#...to get the revenge you so desperately crave? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cannellee · 3 months

Note

omg, i giggle like a schoolgirl whenever i read your abo hcs🤭

can i have bestfriend! mikey who comes over to the reader’s house (not realizing she’s in heat) and ends up mating & claiming her?

ty for all the juicy fics btw 😋

TOKYO REVENGERS OMEGAVERSE ☆

୨୧ alpha! mikey x omega! reader

— mikey claiming omega! reader

my masterlist : ☆

cw: sex, cockwarming, breeding kink

(it's only my third time writing full smut like this, so I hope it's not too bad!!)

you knew mikey since primary school, when innocent friendships bloomed easily. none of you knew your second gender yet, and you actually never gave it too much thought.

you grew up pretty close, the proximity of your houses making it easier for you to bond. mikey was carefree and seemed always sure of himself, these traits of his kept your future omega-self nearby.

being with him felt great. he was a kind friend despite his overly direct behaviour, he always got your back whenever school kids were being mean to you.

you guys were with each other through every stages of life. when you turned out an omega, mikey was quick to drive away students who wanted to have a taste of their freshly presented schoolmate. he was protective, never going overboard either.

it was safe to say you thought you guys would remain in a special relationship all your life. and mikey thought so too. for years, he had never seen you as something more than a friend, qualifying the protective position he took as nothing more than an amicable worry.

but lately, something had begun to shift within mikey. a subtle change that he quite couldn't put his finger on. at first, he brushed it off as nothing more than a passing phase, but days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months and he soon began to realise that his feelings for you were changing in ways he had yet to understand.

it started with small things — the way his heart skipped a bit whenever you laughed, the way his gaze lingered longer than before when you smiled - has your smile always been this bright ? he slowly came to crave your scent, unconsciously leaning towards you and watching the way your soft lips would move each time you talked.

mikey felt a pull at his chest just by thinking of his dear friend with someone else. will they be able to treat you right, and keep you safe ? mikey was just worried. he wanted to hear your voice, to hear your secrets and make sure you were not seeing anyone.

it was a week off, so mikey called you. it wasn't unusual for you to talk over the phone, even if you had a house at a five minutes walk away from the other.

but you didn't pick up your phone. and mikey noted how uncommon it was, you always did. he tried a second time and when he was denied again, he just gave up, giving you some time. upon seeing his missed calls, you'll call him back.

but you didn't, and not even a text was sent his way. he tried multiple times after a while and grew worried. you never were this silent online, not answering him for a whole day was strange, to say the least.

so he went out, took a few brownies emma cooked with him to give him a reason to come over, and crossed the street to your home.

he didn't bother making his arrival announced ; none of you ever bothered for such formalities.

clenching the doorknob, he frowned at how it actually opened, half expecting it to be locked. still, he came in, quietly making his way into your house. it was silent and dark, with the windows all wide opened, a cold breeze hitting his skin.

confused at first, mikey softly called out your name, putting the snacks on the kitchen table and getting rid of his jacket, leaving him in his plain white tshirt. "y/n ? are you in there ?"

the absence of response pushed him to keep going, dangerously approaching your room. he stopped mid way, when a few noises came out from the end of the hallway. "y/n ? is that you, everything fine?"

as he stood right behind the door, mikey could now decipher the said noises. soft desperate cries, erratic breaths and an intoxicating smell embalming the air, seemingly seeping from every hole under your door.

mikey took a deep breath, connecting the dots and cursing himself for coming this far to you —you were in heat. the omega he grew obsessed with, was right in front of him, the wall, the only thing keeping him away from his growing urge to just burst in.

"m-mikey ? is it you ?" despite your weakened state, your friend was close enough for you to recognize a foreign smell inside your house. mikey probably didn't even notice his own pheromones started to spread, instinctively reacting to your erotic ones. fuck you smelled so good.

"I'm sorry I'll leave, I didn't know you were in heat". as overwhelming as his need to claim you was, mikey didn't want to risk your trust.

"n-no please mikey stay!" you were in a haze, too high off of your wish to to be taken to actually have any clear thoughts. and mikey knew that, but he didn't want to take advantage of you.

"I just came here to make sure you were doing fine, and give you some snacks emma made. I'll leave and lock your door, this isn't safe in your state. beside, I don't want you to regret anything, you're not thinking straight" it took a great reasoning for him to actually ignore his instincts screaming at him to just barge into your room and take you right here. breeding you until you're full of cum and exhausted to the point you can't walk straight. dirty thoughts are flooding his mind, the whole situation sending blood to his cock.

"no please, I know I won't ! I'm still clear enough to know what I want, they barely just started today. please mikey". pleas fell out from your mouth. and too overwhelmed by the consuming need for release, you can't even get up to pull him to your nest.

"or is it that you don't want to do it with me ?" mikey sighs heavily, body all tensed up. this sent a growl down his throat, you only whined in response, scared at the prospect of the alpha you desire not wanting to mate with me.

but, of course he does, that's the only thing he can think about right now. and whenever his own ruts hit, he's ashamed to admit your body is the image he pictures each time.

"please mikey, I just really need you right now. I wouldn't do it with anyone else if not you" you begged once more, voice growing even more desperate. a few salty tears rolled down your face at the frustration mikey was submitting you to.

and just like that, mikey was right in front of you. he took in your whole form, shaking and sensitive, desperately awaiting a touch.

you wore only your underwear, the heated room feeling too much. despite your opened windows, some hair stucked to your damp forehead, and the blankets were since then long gone, thrown out of your nest.

you looked heavenly in mikey's eyes. actually, you always looked perfect, not a day passed without mikey admiring your dreamy features secretly. but today particularly, something seemed different.

it was the way your eyes slowly looked up at him, lust and envy clouding your vision, and the way your body seemed to immediately attract him to you, legs spreading as if they had a mind of their own, your heartbeats quickening and scent getting progressively sweeter to tempt him even more.

there was no turning back. after witnessing such a delightful scene, mikey would never be able to turn around, close the door and act like nothing happened. you had him right where you wanted and he was more than willing to comply to your wishes now.

"please mikey, it hurts"

by now, mikey's instincts had fully taken over and an ardent desire burned inside of him, praying him to just take care of the delicate omega laying in front him.

"yes I know baby, and you did really great on your own, waiting for me to find you, all spread out and pretty". you reached out for him instantly when mikey came to join you, you emitted a satisfied purr, happy to finally have the alpha you longed for give in to your demands.

he didn't wait long before starting a short foreplay, kissing, licking and sucking every inch of your skin, leaving tiny bite marks all along your neck, insisting on your scent gland.

he brought his fingers to your entrance while continuing his assault on your neck and collarbone. he massaged it slowly, observing your reactions to know exactly where it felt good. he kept going for a few minutes before stopping, throwing away your bra and finally pushing aside your panty, giving more access to his hands.

and you felt one finger entering you, his mouth now sealed to your nipple. his tongue rolled against it, lapping expertly while drinking in your moans of pleasure. he kept bullying your heterogeneous zones, in hope to hear more of you, to see you completely break under him, just like he always wanted to see you.

"that's it baby, moan for me, let me hear your pretty voice"

and moan you did, especially with how three of his fingers were now sliding in and out of you with a sweet speed you couldn't get enough of. you had tears building up in your eyes and you watched as a string of saliva connected mikey's mouth to yours. his finger felt so great, and his mouth, now attached to your lips, turned you absolutely breathless. but still, it wasn't enough, you needed more.

"please mikey. I want you in me, please I want more" the friction of mikey's fingers felt good, but you were too far into your heat to actually need foreplay. the slick you produced was enough for mikey to just fuck you without any prep.

"I know I know baby, I'll make you feel so good don't worry" he stopped his movements, your fluids coating his fingers. he licked them, looking at your droopy eyelids.

you waited patiently for mikey to undress himself, throwing both his tshirt and your panty aside, before finally getting rid of his bottom. you watched eagerly his length revealing itself to you, a sight which only made you drool. and you could only wait for mikey to give you what you wished for, completely at his mercy.

you were now fully naked, squirming in front of mikey. he contemplated you again, your honeyed scent driving him crazy by the minute, and the way your pulsating core seemed to call out to him was very much a sight mikey could get used to if you let him.

"I've wanted this for so long, God you're so beautiful"

he let his hands travel all around your body, kissing you passionately while whispering praises of how pretty you looked.

"that's it baby, lay nice and still for me. you're doing so good". and you did, waiting expectantly, hungry for his touch and affection. you couldn't care less about your dignity, it just felt great to want him, obey him, beg him. whatever he had to offer your body, you would accept it with a smile on your face.

and with all his restraint, mikey entered you in one painfully slow thrust. you moaned louder, eyes shutting by themselves with the intrusion, and "yes, yes, yes" flowed out from your lips.

he didn't let you any time to adjust, he knew you didn't need any, and immediately started rocking his hips. he let out low growls of pleasure, mouth right next to your ear. you drank them in, feeling pleasure building up inside not only from the relentless pace he was going at, but the satisfaction that your omega had succeeded in making her alpha feel good too.

you were desperate for validation and release, clawing at his back with weak hands, legs spread wide open for your alpha. your tits bounced with each slap and mikey's hips connected with yours in a excruciatingly delightful manner.

with the way your brain was clouded with pleasure, you could only chant his name. if only you knew what your desirous pleas did to him.. knowing you'd let him to anything to you was a major turn on that kept mikey yearning for more.

"you're doing perfect, that feels incredible baby". reassuring you, he maintained his pace, capturing your mouth for a heated kiss before sucking on your skin, whishing for it to leave deep red marks.

fuck, mikey wanted to mark you, claim you and breed you in every way possible. he didn't think he would be satisfied with just one round now that he finally had you under him. he was going to take such good care of his precious omega, fucking you dumb until you can't think of anything else but him.

he felt you clenching around him, your tight hole pushing him closer to the edge. "just like that, good girl, you're gonna make me cum". and you so wished for him to cum inside you, filling you up to the brim with the seeds you desperately wanted.

slapping thighs, wet noises and erratic breaths were the only thing you could here. and the pleasure mikey granted you, the way his strong scent enveloped you and how his fingers found your clit again to help you chase your release made you see stars. not a single thought could make their way into your brain, all you could think about was the heavenly sensations you were experiencing right now and mikey's strong chest on top of you.

you begged for him as soon as you felt it come closer, scratching his back, mouth wide opened and tongue lolled out. your eyes rolled to the back of your skull and you thanked mikey for giving you this much pleasure. "that's right baby, take all of it". his thrusts were getting sloppier with each passing second, announcing your coming climax.

you both came at the same time, with a high pitched moan for you and a deep growl for mikey, which always managed to send shivers down your spine. you felt his cum flow inside of you, painting your insides with a white fluid.

and you took it all, just like he told you, hoping for more praises but too high off of his cock to do anything else. he kissed your temple, looking into your exhausted eyes while slowly going in and out of you. you both tried to catch your breath after bliss took over you.

"you did so good for me angel, such a perfect omega". you chirped happily in response, content about his satisfaction with you. you couldn't talk, heat turned you into a submissive mess.

you let him cuddle you from behind, cockwarming him to make sure you didn't spill any drops of cum, and you stayed put for him to do anything. he kissed your shoulder softly, whispering about how good and obedient you were.

he liked the calming feeling of his cock plugging your wet pussy, taking you like this felt so good and heightened his already possessive thoughts about you.

you were so perfect, you took your alpha so well and now you're staying still for him to pour his cum into you. he wanted to keep you all to himself, fuck you throughout all your heats and never let you go after someone else. the claim he put on you wasn't just out of sexual interest, but genuine love he had for you. and now that he had fucked you, it felt like everything was falling into place, his sense of purpose reaffirmed.

he had you, his lovely and delicate omega, waiting for her alpha to wreck her and turn her into a sobbing mess.

he looked forward to the rest of the day.

"now were not finished baby, we'll need a lot more if we want to go through your heat smoothly, right?"

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sokkadora · 6 months

Text

see you again — mizu x reader

inspired by: see you again; tyler, the creator

summary: can i get a kiss? and can you make it last forever?

a/n: this came to me in a dream and made me wake up in a cold sweat /j

wc: 2.6k

tags/warning(s): allusions to period typical homophobia, angst, afab reader, fluff, arranged marriage, near death

from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸

︿︿︿︿︿︿ ✎ᝰ . . . .

You and Mizu had always been close. You would frequently visit your grandfather out in the thick woods behind Kohama, of whom Mizu was an apprentice of. Your grandfather was grateful of you coming around to give Mizu another outlet, a real friend her age to speak to instead of trailing behind him all day and night.

Mizu was quickly drawn to you the day you first showed up as a small child, but was worried about how you would react to her most potent feature. The first few visits you had that she was there for, she ended up curiously watching you from afar as you would talk to Eiji about your newest skill your mother had taught to you, or watching you play outside in the forest.

The first time you had seen Mizu’s eyes, you were enthralled by them. Of course, you had heard of the onryō haunting Kohama, but you expected them to be taller, have sharp and frightening features. But Mizu was shy and gentle with you, silently greeting you with a small flower every time you came to visit as you started to grow closer. You bonded over your shared want to master a weapon that seemed so far out of reach, you with your bow and Mizu’s sword.

You were her closest friend, the first person beside her mother to know she was a woman. You were never scared or deterred from her or her slowly hardening demeanor, or her sharp blue eyes. She could pinpoint the exact moment she had begun to fall for you; after quietly sharing the fate of her mother on the one day that the bad men had come to take her out of this world.

You were nothing but kind with her, an arm resting on her shoulders as your hand gently carded through her hair that you had helped her tie up so many times. When she turned her head to look at you through nervous eyes and she saw nothing but fondness and warmth, she knew you had her wrapped around your finger.

Your visits started to become more infrequent as your father began preparing you for your duties as a wife in the near future, and Mizu found herself distracting herself from your absence by throwing herself into her sword and fighting techniques. But in the moments before bed, she would lay on her back and stare longingly at the ceiling, wondering what would happen if you and her were to just run off together and start your own life together. But what she yearned for to be possible hurt her, because she knew it could never be. The relationship she so desperately craved to have with you was forbidden; it could get the two of you killed.

So her mind became consumed with her quest for revenge. Her sword was forged from the meteorite she and the swordfather found, and she was marching her way to say goodbye to you. The rain that poured on the day of her departure set the tone for how well the attempt at a goodbye would go. With how stubborn you were when it came to Mizu’s safety, she knew it wasn’t going to be easy.

She stealthily climbed up the tree beside your home, crawling in through a window on the second story floor before quietly in front of your door. Now, she’d never been to your home, but you’d described it to her enough for her to be able to get her bearings. She patted off the front of haori nervously before raising her hand and knocking on your door softly.

She could hear you shuffling around before arriving at the door, opening it and smiling widely at the sight of your friend. She allowed herself to curl her lips into a small smile as you pulled her into your room, the smell of your lavender incense and smoke from the candle crawled it’s way into her nostrils while you shut the door behind the two of you.

While Mizu was glancing around your room for the first time, you smiled before clearing your throat to catch her attention. She turned her head to look over her shoulder at you, her smile dropping at the reminder of what she was here to do. She decided to rip the bandaid off, not bothering with any pleasantries.

“I’ve come to say goodbye.”

Your mood and smile dropped, brows furrowing at Mizu’s sudden words.

You knew of Mizu’s yearning and hunger for revenge, but you figured you’d have more time with her in Kohama before she would depart. You regretted not sneaking out to your grandfather’s when you had the opportunities presented themselves, you felt incredibly guilty for leaving Mizu hanging for so long. She seemed colder now, you wondered what she had been through in the months since you last visited.

You should’ve made time.

Why didn’t you make time?

Now the one you loved more than anything any rich lord could offer was leaving, and you were stuck here to become a docile wife. The thought of it put a horrible taste in your mouth.

You swallowed thickly, “I’m coming with.”

Mizu blinked in surprise, her eyes widening as you began to gather up your bow and quiver that laid hidden beneath the floorboards in front of your sleeping pad. She swiftly moved over to you, kneeling and placing a hand on your bicep to stop you. She could see the tears glistening in your eyes through your hair that draped over your face, brushing it out of your face and tucking it behind your ear softly.

You paused your frantic movements to grab your weapon, glancing towards Mizu, who continued to be nothing but gentle with you as you began to let the tears trail down your cheeks. You wept, feeling homesick for the person who hadn’t even left yet.

“No, you’re not.” Mizu said quietly, but in such a firm tone you knew there was no room to argue about it. “I need you here. I need to know that you’re safe home, in Kohama. Where I’m going… you could get killed. I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to you on my watch.”

“But you could get killed, Mizu.” You whispered, turning into her, almost. Your knees touched, Mizu’s strong hands resting on your biceps while you raised your head just enough to stare at the scarf wrapped around her neck. Slowly reaching up, you fidgeted with the standing end of the knot before letting your hand fall to rest against her binded chest. “You could get killed and I’d… I’d never know. I’d be here waiting for you, and you’d never come back. I can’t…” Your voice shook, and Mizu’s hands began to as well. “I can’t live in a world that doesn’t have you in it.”

Mizu’s eyes widened at the admission, her heart swelling sadly.

“Nothing – and I mean, nothing,” she swallowed her anxieties. Should she be admitting this to you now? What if you’re right? What if she doesn’t come back? She paused briefly before deciding to just spit it out. If she was to die while on her journey, she was not going to die without knowing what it felt to be yours.

Even it was for a few fleeting moments.

“will take me from you before I’ve gotten the chance to give you the life you deserve.” She whispered, hands sliding down your arms to take your hands into hers. She rubbed her thumbs over the tops of your knuckles. “I love you,” She admitted, whispering your name as she reached a hand up to cradle the back of your head and pressing a firm, loving kiss you your forehead. “I’ll come home to you. I promise.”

‘She loves me?’ You thought, your brain swirling with excited thoughts as she pressed a kiss your your forehead. Your grip on her top tightened, and you finally mustered the courage to look into her eyes. Oh, how you loved them.

Seeing how this may be the last time you may every get the pleasure of seeing them, you reached your hands up and cupped her cheeks with a heavy sigh, hands shaking. Her eyes stormed with several emotions. Embarrassment? No… Love? Yes, and you were thrilled that it was openly aimed at you.

With the courage boost of her gaze on you, you shakily traced a thumb over her bottom lip, swallowing down the thick emotions that you felt bottling up. Her breath hitched, but she didn’t shy away from you. She never has.

You slowly leaned up, brushing your lips against her own before finally pressing them together, a mournful whimper leaving Mizu’s throat the second they made contact. Was this the only time she would ever be able to kiss you? She wondered, gripping your wrists softly as she eagerly kissed you back, her stomach flipping.

After what was too soon for either of you, Mizu pulled away, much to her own dismay. It was time.

You swallowed back a cry before pressing your foreheads together, “I love you too.”

———

You didn’t think she’d be gone for so long.

The first day was miserable.

The first month? Miserable.

The first six months? You guessed it!

Miserable.

The first year? Not any better.

You started to visit your grandfather more often to make sure he was cared for and still alive, you often cooked him dinners and stayed the nights to eat with him. He was the only thing besides your concealed weapon that really connected you to Mizu now that she was gone, and your frequent visits to him had interfered with your attempts at an arranged marriage, which resulted in your father doubling down and finally marrying you off to a lord after nearly two years of Mizu’s absence.

He hardly paid any attention to you, which was a blessing for you. It gave you more time to practice your archery and hunting, letting you keep a piece of Mizu with you. It also promised an easier escape for whenever Mizu came back.

Which she did.

Half dead though, which wasn’t ideal.

A man who you now knew as Ringo came crashing into the woods where you practiced archery at the request of your grandfather, and the moment you heard Mizu’s name slip out of his mouth you were sprinting towards your grandfather’s home. He had heard you sprinting through the woods, panting harshly before you slide one of the doors open. He placed the large metal tongs in front of your stomach before you could run to Mizu, guiding you over to the table to grab something to eat.

“You’ll do the boy no good if you cannot take care of yourself while you care for him, child.” He bonked your head with the tool, hobbling away after you walked over to Mizu with the meal, kneeling down beside her and setting it down beside you.

Your hand didn’t dare make contact with the injury on her forehead, but gently settled against her cheek. Your throat tightened from the overwhelming myriad of emotions washing over you the moment you laid eyes on her pale skin, you reminded yourself that she came home to you. Alive. But the look and thought her physical state worried you beyond anything you could reassure yourself with.

You had politely asked and instructed Ringo to deliver a message to your “husband” (to you, he was just some deadbeat you were legally tied to. He was already close to his deathbed before the few days that had gone on before Mizu’s abrupt arrival) that you were staying with your grandfather for a few days, falsifying an injury that he supposedly sustained that you needed to help him with. Which wasn’t exactly a lie, somebody you cared about was injured, it just wasn’t your grandfather.

Of whom made sure to put you to work while you were there, gathering firewood for him and assisting him to make tea and Ringo to make dinners for the three of you until one of the injured had woken up. It wasn’t the person you wanted to wake up most though.

Taigen, had been the first to rouse from his brief coma. You were not his biggest fan, but you knew him from the years you’d spent growing up by his side in the same village. Mizu never went into depth about what Taigen and his friends had done to her before the two of you met, but she said enough to make you strongly dislike the man.

He was surprised to see you, especially in the getup you were in, dressed similarly to Mizu. In your defense to yourself, how were you supposed to hunt in the kimonos that the women usually wore?

Today, Ringo was tailing your grandfather everywhere, claiming to be his new apprentice and Taigen was off exploring Kohama for the first time in years. You leaned against the building and watched as Ringo rambled while pulling out the firewood your grandfather needed, and your grandfather grumbled under his breath in irritation.

You let yourself chuckle, something you hadn’t done in a long while before your head whipped around at the sound of a groan coming from inside the house. You turned on your heel and jogged inside, your jaw dropping as you gasped at the sight of Mizu. She was sitting up, her hand pressing against the injury that had been stitched up by Ringo before you’d been alerted of her presence in your home.

You quickly ran forward and fell to your knees, engulfing her in a tight embrace. You felt her stiffen as you began to cry into her nape, but she seemed to recognize you quickly and returned the embrace, shutting her eyes tightly.

When you felt her warmth beneath your fingertips, it felt like you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. She came home. To you. And she was alive.

“Mizu…” You laughed through a sob, your hands shakily grabbing the fabric covering her shoulders. Relief flooded through your system as she rested a hand at the small of your back, tugging you closer against her. “You’re alive! Oh my god, you’re alive.” You pulled back, shaky hands cupping her cheeks gently.

She brought a hand up to grab one of your own to steady your touch, leaning into your hand tenderly before turning into it and pressing a kiss to your palm. It felt good to be home. You were home, still. After all these years, after Mikio, after everything, you remained constant, unmoving. One of the only people that were consistently by her side after everything.

“I missed you,” She mumbled, her right hand coming up to gently rub your chin with her pointer finger while her left hand rested against one of the hands on her face. “I’m sorry I was gone for so long.”

You laughed through continuous tears, shaking your head softly, “I’m just glad you’re back, dumbass.” You held her face a little tighter, sniffling. “Even if you were half dead.”

“I kept my promise, didn’t I?” She joked, gazing into your eyes. They still held so much kindness and love for her… god, she didn’t deserve you.

“Barely…” You pouted, beginning to litter kisses over her face. She laughed softly, enjoying the affection far too much for her own good. She couldn’t leave you behind again, not now. Two years without you was already enough torture. You finally lingered your mouth over her own when the door opened, and you both turned your gazes to see Taigen awkwardly standing in the doorway.

“Was I…” He clears his throat. “...interrupting something?”

Mizu scoffs, rolling her eyes, “When do you not?” She asked rhetorically, beginning to bicker with the man.

Before he left again, he started mumbling something about how ridiculous Mizu was being and how he didn’t need this today. You couldn’t help but snicker at the mans grumbles, turning to face Mizu again, who was already smiling dotingly at you. She grabbed your face softly in one hand, and you melted into the touch that was missed and yearned for.

“Now where were we?”

#mizu x reader #reader x mizu #mizu x you #you x mizu #blue eye samurai x reader #reader x blue eye samurai #blue eye samurai imagines #bes x reader #reader x bes #SoundCloud #zoe's works #my works

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astarionfreak · 1 month

Note

#9 for Astarion x reader? Please?

Ahh! Yes!! Thank you!

9. "Eyes on me when you come."

Snippet for the smut ask game. | Previous answers here

You didn't start the night getting railed by the most beautiful man you've ever known. No, that came later. Many hours later.

At the start of your day -- night -- you live in reverse now. It wasn't hard to adjust.

At the start of your night, Astarion met you in the kitchen as you made yourself breakfast. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, lips against your warm skin, and mumbled a soft, "Good morning, darling."

He wrapped his hands around your waist, fingers toying with the hem of your pants. You thought, maybe, he'd fuck you right there. But he didn't. You were left wanting.

Later that evening, as you headed out into the city to do -- well, that's private isn't it? -- whatever it is you do. You decided to get a little revenge. You leaned against an alley wall and tugged him flush against your body.

He made a small, surprised noise, and quickly melted into your arms. Your hands were the ones toying with hems of pants this time.

You waited until you felt his lips against your neck, kissing as he searched for a vein -- then you pushed him away and continued on with the very important business you had to attend to.

It was little things all night that built your desire. Your need for him. Little touches. The backs of your hands brushing up against each other. A stolen glance, a knowing smile.

I'm here. I love you. I want you.

It wasn't until the threat of dawn sent you scurrying back home that you finally indulged in each other.

It wasn't until you went all day wanting that you found pleasure in each other.

When you got back home, that's when you found yourself with your hands pinned on either side of your head. Astarion's fingers laced with yours.

"Such a tease," he purred. "Taunting me all day. But you're mine now, aren't you?"

"I'm yours, I'm yours, Astarion," you managed to say.

Your breath came in desperate, needy gasps. Sweat dripped down the curve of your neck, mixing with the rivulets of blood from a messy feed.

You felt -- everything. Every inch of your body craved him, needed his skin against yours.

You threw your head back, squirming beneath him as he fucked into you -- slow, languid, drawing out every thrust. He took his time and felt every inch of you.

"Fuck -- fuck, Astarion," you whimpered. "Don't stop. Please."

Your thoughts became distant. He's all you could see. He was everything. You only knew you want more. Harder, faster, closer.

"Gods, you're so good for me. Aren't you, love? So, so good," he whispered.

There was that low rumble of lust and his voice cracked slightly with desire.

"So good, Astarion," you said.

You squeezed your eyes shut, losing yourself completely to pleasure that quickly reached it's peak. "So close, I'm so close --"

"Eyes on me when you come, darling," he commanded.

You were good. So good. You did exactly as you were told. You opened your eyes to find him watching you.

There was that sly smile that showed just a hint of his fangs. His eyes, red, and dark with lust as he reveled in his control over you --

And something else -- love. Gods. He loved you. And you loved him. More than anything. You built a life together. You trusted each other.

You were happy.

You were so happy as you unraveled beneath the man you loved. You were content as he held you, and fucked you through the orgasm that left your legs weak and your vision blurry.

You felt the deepest satisfaction when he, too, came undone with you.

You lay there, with him in your arms, his ear to your chest. You knew, he was listening and counting each beat of your heart. You didn't ask him what he was thinking.

You didn't have to.

He's your home. And you are is.

#asked #answered #af.op #af.op.fic #smut ask game #astarion fic #astarion x reader #amoremagnificentbastard

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thedaythatwas · 29 days

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I’m just thinking long and hard about the way Akiren and Akechi are written as foils for each other. Because of course, the game drives it home for us that the two are narrative foils: Akiren is the champion of free will who finds power through his friendships, Akechi represents the ways society binds us. He is chained by his desire to be wanted (importantly, by the wrong people– I’ll get to that).

At first glance, Akiren and Akechi’s point of divergence has to do with their relationships– Akiren has confidants, Akechi doesn’t, and this is the deciding factor in Akiren’s victory over Akechi on November 20th and in the engine room. Still, while this is certainly part of what makes their relationship important as a narrative device, it’s not the full picture. That, I think, has more to do with the fact that they both desperately want the very relationships that are used to foil them. They have common ground, and that’s what makes the emotional beats of their differences hit as hard as they do.

Even though Akechi doesn’t have the close bonds that Akiren does with his friends, he is defined as a character by his desire to belong. He wants to be praised and given everything he feels he was denied by Shido’s callous disregard for his mother and society’s unjust treatment of him after her death. He was a self-proclaimed “undesirable child” who spent his young adult life doing everything in his power to never feel unwanted again. He literally spells it out in his engine room monologue– “I was extremely particular about my life, my grades, my public image, so someone would want me around!”

Akiren, like Akechi, begins his character arc as a social outcast. Unlike Akechi, who appeals to systemic power to claim social clout and chase his own sense of belonging (the Shido revenge plot, which would, uhm, theoretically end with Shido acknowledging his son’s worth), Akiren finds family with other outcasts. All of the Phantom Thieves understand his struggle, and because of this they foster a sense of understanding and community that Akechi never gets to experience.

It is important to note that these bonds are deepened when Akiren helps those around him. While there’s absolutely nothing bad about doing things for the people you care about– in fact, most would argue that this is what makes a friendship a good one– we can take a reasonable guess that Akiren craves the love of those around him just a bit more than is healthy for him. He plays therapist for half of Tokyo– he stretches himself absurdly thin for the sake of his friends. That’s a bit much to ask of one person, but Akiren seems to demand it of himself. This is the nature of confidant routes as a game mechanic, of course, but hey, reading into game mechanics is important to getting a solid reading of who Akiren is behind the mask!

The crux of it is, Akiren and Akechi are both lonely characters. Their desire to be loved quite literally drives the narrative of the game, both in terms of plot and gameplay. What makes their foiling so tragic is the fact that Akechi so obviously wants what he has himself determined he can’t have. He says as much in the engine room when he questions why Akiren has things that he doesn’t, despite being (as he says) criminal trash living in an attic.

And yet, Akechi’s isolation is frankly the result of his own decisions. He is the one who chooses to work for Shido. He is the one who acts on a worldview that requires he keep his cards close to his chest to win— against Shido and against the world that wronged him— and to be considered desirable (even despite the fact that this mindset obviously works against satiating his hunger to be loved. He really needs to go to therapy, but I digress).

I don’t think Akechi even knows how to go about claiming what Akiren managed to. Akechi has agency in the actions he takes, absolutely– he would be furious about any suggestion to the contrary– but in many ways, the choices he feels himself able to make are constrained by his circumstances and the lessons imparted to him by his past.

All this to say, Akechi and Akiren aren’t different because Akechi doesn’t want teammates, or even friends. He sincerely wants everything Akiren has. He tells us this in the engine room. He shoots himself in the foot by prioritizing approval from society and love from Shido above other relationships. But thinking from inside his shoes, what else was he going to do? Where else would he have thought to turn to find what he wanted? He was dealt a horrible hand and he played his cards according to the rule book he was given. If the world were just, Akiren and Akechi wouldn’t be foils. It’s the injustice implicit in that that really drives home the point I think P5 is trying to make when it foils Akiren and Akechi in the first place. It also, personally, has been making me want to scream all day.

On a related note, this is also the exact reason that Akechi being the one to bring up that things might have been different if only he met Akiren a few years sooner makes me want to throw things, but this post is long enough. I’ll save all that for later!

#writing this has also had me thinking about the touchy topic that is ‘agency’ in akechi’s narrative #he makes choices AND he’s a victim of circumstance AND neither of those things cancel each other out #I made a post about this a while back but I think I’ll revisit it soon because again— a topic that makes me froth at the mouth #also did y’all notice I got a little foucauldian with my akechi analysis 👀#I can’t resist. maybe more on THAT later too!#anyway this is scattered and left of coherent but hey I had a lot on my mind!#persona 5 #goro akechi

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charmandabear · 7 months

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Ascendn't

Summary

I got mad when the game wouldn't let me hug him after the Cazador fight. So I fixed it. Plus a bit more steaminess in the graveyard scene. (Also, yes, I'm insufferable about this title.)

Pairing: Astarion x GN!Tav Rating: M Word Count: 4.5k Tags/Warnings: post-Cazador fight, Act 3 spoilers, blood kink, biting, hurt/comfort, fluff and angst, soft dom Astarion, enthusiastic consent

It's been a good 10 years since I've written fanfiction and probably about 20 since I've published any online. This boy got me down BAD. I made an AO3 account for this fucker. (Which you can find here.)

“I can do this, but I need your help.”

You’ve never heard him plead like this. He’s usually so cool and confident. He doesn’t need anyone if he can help it. But this is different. Standing over Cazador, dagger in hand, fear and desperation in his eyes.

“I’ll be free - truly, completely free. Isn’t that what you want?”

He knows how to make your heart melt and break all at the same time. Gods, yes, of course that’s what you want, more than anything in the world. For him to be free to live the life that he never got to have, the life that Cazador stole away from him. He was so young when he got turned. And if he doesn’t take this chance, then as soon as you manage to get these damned tadpoles out of your head he’ll be relegated to the shadows once again. You can’t do that to him.

But this isn’t it. This won’t give him the freedom he so desperately craves, no, deserves. It’s just another form of chains. You take a shaky breath and prepare yourself for his disapproving glare.

“I know you think this will set you free, but it won’t. This power will trap you, just like it trapped Cazador.”

Astarion’s face goes slack, the recognition of the cycle of abuse suddenly clear. His eyes on you soften as he murmurs, “You– you’re right. I can be better than him.” He turns a steely gaze back to Cazador.

“But I’m not above enjoying this.”

With a ferocity that you haven’t yet seen in Astarion, he yanks Cazador’s head back and starts viciously stabbing into his neck. Two hundred years of pent up fury and revenge release in a matter of moments. At a certain point, he’s not even stabbing the man, but rather the idea of Cazador and everything he represents.

Eventually he slows and drops Cazador’s limp body to the ground. The dagger falls with a clatter, and Astarion takes a step back. His eyes finally come back into focus and he realizes that it’s over. Really, truly, over. He’s finally free.

His face is awash with an overwhelm of emotions that you can’t identify. He’s panting, first from the physical exertion and then the sobs that wrack his body. He lets out a howling cry filled with pain and suffering and relief and anguish and he falls to his knees, shoulders shaking. Up until this point, you and the rest of your party have been frozen to the spot as you watched Astarion claim his revenge. But something in you breaks free and you rush to his side. Where you need to be. Where you belong.

You grab him tight in your arms and curl into his neck, your own tears mixing with the blood and grime on his bare shoulder. You think with an almost sardonic humor how often your positions have been reversed. Whereas when he leaned into your neck it was often with hunger, or lust, or even just a flirty playfulness, now all you could bring is a shared pain and comfort. You plant a tender kiss just below his ear and he looks at you with tearful eyes, an unidentifiable question present. You wrap your hand around the base of his neck, fingers raking through bloodstained silver curls. Pressing your foreheads together, you sync up your breaths with his, trying to slow them back to an even rhythm. Gods, you love this man so much.

You finally dare to break the silence, whispering, “Let’s get you cleaned up, shall we?” He lets out a weary chuckle and nods. You take one more look into those wet crimson eyes, bloodshot and tired, and smear some of Cazador’s blood left on his cheek in an attempt to wipe away his tears. He takes your hand and kisses your fingertips gently. You suddenly become aware that the other six spawn have been released from their soul-draining chains and are approaching, just as tired and sweaty as the rest of you. The two of you slowly get up to your feet, each helping the other in the process.

“Is… is it over? Is he…?” The woman you vaguely recall meeting in the flophouse in Wyrm’s Crossing, Dalyria, cautiously peers at Cazador’s body. Astarion lets out one final sigh, his breathing finally returning to normal.

“Yes. He’s gone.” He sounds like he can hardly believe it himself. As though saying the words aloud might somehow break a spell and make them untrue.

“What does that mean for us?” Petras, you think, comes up behind Dal. You do remember meeting him, feeling like he was like a knockoff version of Astarion. Trying all the same moves with half of the charm. You feel bad, now, about that judgemental assessment. He looks like such a lost little boy.

“It means you have a choice,” he says with exasperation. Sibling bonds, even when forged in fire, never die. “You can hide here, living in the shadows, like parasites.” His voice is filled with venom. “Or you can be more than what he made us to be. You can choose differently, of course. But the consequences are on your head.”

“What does it mean for them?” Dal asks, and Astarion falters slightly.

“Ah. Now that is a question…” You can tell he had been trying not to think about the seven thousand vampire spawn locked up in the dungeons. He was trying to get Sebastian out of his mind since their conversation. You don’t blame him, honestly. Astarion may have been forced to do Cazador’s bidding, but that doesn’t make the fallout from that any less reprehensible. Worse even that he was good at it.

Astarion had taken a step away from you to talk to his siblings, and you can see him beginning to spiral. You close the distance again and lay a hand on his shoulder. You can feel him start under your touch.

“Let’s release them,” you offer quietly. “They deserve the same chance you got.” You have no idea who Astarion would be right now if he hadn’t gotten kidnapped by the Illithid. If he hadn’t been on this journey, seen everything he had seen. Met you. Honestly, you don’t know who you’d even be if you hadn’t met him either. The thought alone makes you run cold.

“You’re right,” he breathes barely above a whisper. “The poor wretches in the cells are innocent. They shouldn’t have to suffer just because I-” his voice catches in his throat and you see him shake off a dark thought, “lured them here.” He reaches down to pick up Cazador’s staff - Woe, you think it’s called - with a hand still stained reddish black with the vampire’s blood. He looks at it for a moment, considering it carefully, and everything this staff had ever meant. Then he slams it on the ground, red waves of energy emanating from it, using its power to unlock every single one of the cells in the dungeon.

“They’ll need someone to lead them. Take the tunnels into the Underdark. Find somewhere… well, not safe, but less perilous.” Petras eyes light up with fear.

“What? No, we can’t-” he begins desperately, but Astarion cuts him off with a hand.

“Just try to keep them out of trouble.” The exasperated tone is back. How often had he needed to manage Petras’ emotions as much as his own? You vaguely wonder if Petras looked to Astarion as a role model. The other six spawn walk off slowly, exhausted but clearly relieved to be starting anew.

You turn to Astarion, who has just finished redonning his armor that Cazador had stripped him of. His gaze is glassy; you’ve seen this look before, sometimes even when you’re in bed together. He might as well be a million miles away. You gently touch his arm to bring him back to you. He jumps slightly, then a wan smile touches his lips, but not his eyes.

“That’s it. He’s gone. After all these years – these centuries – it’s really over.” He shuffles his feet, antsy and tired at the same time. You hesitate a moment, unsure of the best way to respond, but you finally settle on, “I’m proud of you. You did the right thing.” His smile isn’t free of bitterness.

“I’m glad you think so, because I’m not so sure.” His eyes flick up back to you, but that glassy look has returned. “I just feel numb. What I’ve lost, what I’ve gained – it’s all so much. And gods, all those spawn, free in the Underdark. I need some time, I think. Just to let it all sink in.” You reach out to touch his face comfortingly. Your heart sinks as he gently pushes your hand away, but it settles when he doesn’t let go of it.

“Let’s just go. This place reeks of death and I want to feel alive again.” He gives your fingers a small squeeze and then walks off ahead of your party, making his way down the long corridor into Cazador’s dungeon. Well, not Cazador’s anymore. You briefly wonder what’s going to happen to this place.

At the end of the hallway, you see the Gur standing there, too late to be even remotely useful. You struggle to keep a scowl off your face. You hate how they treated Astarion in your last encounter. You could be sympathetic of their pain, of course; they’ve lost so much to Astarion’s actions. But the fact that they offered no sympathy for him back, the fact that they could barely acknowledge that he was a victim himself? Absolutely despicable.

Ulma stands at the head of the group, and her scowl matches yours. “You killed one vampire, but released seven thousand of his spawn? Have you lost all sense?”

“They were innocents. To kill them would have been an even greater crime.” Astarion couldn’t possibly sound more tired. You don’t blame him, these are the last people he wants to defend himself against right now.

“Some of those innocents are your fucking kids,” you grumble under your breath, hopefully not enough for Ulma to hear, but just enough for Astarion’s benefit. It’s clear that she couldn’t when she retorts, “And our children? What of their fate?”

“Cazador turned everyone we brought him into spawn. I can only assume your children are somewhere in those wretched cells. You’ll find them in the Underdark, although you may not like what you find.” The grief is plain in Ulma’s face, as well as the rest of the Gur. You feel a little more sympathy for them, but still no warmth.

“This is…” Ulma searches for the right word to capture the enormity of the situation, “difficult news.” She probably could’ve done better. “We will need to decide what this means.” She lets out a heavy sigh. “Thank you for what you have done – slaying Cazador was a great justice. As for the rest… well, time will tell.” Astarion nods curtly, and you’re relieved to be able to push past them and leave.

You and your party finally trudge back to Elfsong Tavern to rest. The rest of your companions are eager to gossip about the day’s events, everyone having something to say. You shield Astarion from their nosiness and distract them while he bathes in the tub in the corner, washing away more than just the physical dirt.

Later that evening as everyone else is beginning to tuck into bed, Astarion comes to you, finally ready to talk again. You can smell his signature fragrance, an earthy citrus with an undertone of spice, and it’s positively intoxicating. You’ve grown to really love that smell, and even the slightest whiff makes your head spin. For the first time maybe ever since you met, his eyes look… soft. Almost warm, even.

“I should probably start getting used to the shadows, again,” he muses with a light smile. “Who knows how long I have left in the sun?” Your heart drops. This had been your greatest fear, that he would feel resentful of the fact that you convinced him not to go through with the ritual, thereby committing him to an indefinite lifetime in the darkness. You know how much he’s grown to love the feeling of the sun on his skin. Not to mention how it makes his skin look, soft and kissable.

“Don’t say that,” you plead with him. “We could still find a way to control the tadpole.” He shakes his head, his freshly washed curls bouncing slightly.

“Maybe, but even if I could control it, it’s a dangerous game. I’d spend every day waiting for something to go wrong. For the tadpole to find a new trick, reassert itself, make me a slave again.” His eyes grow lighter, discovering the truth of what he’s saying as he says it. “Maybe never seeing the sun again is just the price of freedom.” You reach out and give his arm a reassuring squeeze, relishing the feel of his cool, toned arm beneath the warm linen. Even after all this time, being this close to him makes you a little lightheaded. You feel the blood rush to your cheeks and neck, almost as though it’s aching to be drunk.

“I’ll be with you either way,” you breathe softly. You can’t help but glance at his lips. “I hope you know that.”

“I think I do.” He sounds genuine, a bit of a rarity for him. Lest anyone believes Astarion to have a sincere bone in his body, he adds, “Assuming we survive, of course. Because a horrible death is always just around the corner with you.” You playfully shove his shoulder for teasing you. He laughs and gently pulls you in by your lower back and you feel the heat rising again. Your breath catches as his eyes rake over your body and face. He lingers on your lips for a moment before darting back up to your eyes.

“There’s… something I’d like to show you, if that’s alright? Something out in the city.” He cocks his head and looks at you with an almost impossible combination of bashfulness and lust. Being this close to him and breathing in his heady scent makes you dizzy. You manage to recover just enough to quip, “If you want to sneak off for a cuddle, you can just ask.” He lets you go and you feel a significant drop in your internal temperature.

“I’ll try to restrain myself if you do,” he says with a cheeky smile. He takes you gently by the hand and leads you out the Elfsong Tavern.

The graveyard is quiet, almost serene. Astarion walks forward towards a tombstone covered in ivy and, with something bordering on reverence, brushes the vines away to reveal the text engraved in the crumbling stone.

Astarion Ancunin 1229 DR - 1268 DR

He wipes the dirt off his hands and steps back next to you to get a better view of the stone. You stand together in silence for a moment, as if in prayer.

“Nearly two hundred years and I never came back. Not since the night I woke up down there.” His gaze is overtaken by that glassy look, the one you recognize to be him reliving his trauma. “I had to punch a hole in the coffin and claw my way through six feet of dirt. Then when I finally broke the surface, retching up dirt and congealed blood, Cazador was waiting. From that day on I was his.” He sneers at the memory. Then he pauses, considering, “Until today.”

He comes back to himself with a shake of his head, and his eyes return to this plane. He adds, as much to himself as to you, “Now I need to figure out who I am. What I want.”

“And what do you want?” Your mouth is dry as you ask the question. You can hope for the answer, but you wouldn’t dare presume. He might need to figure that out on his own, and if that’s the case, you will respect that.

He turns to face you, his red eyes full of more warmth than you’ve ever seen. Your heart leaps into your throat as he smiles and says, “You… I want you.

“You were by my side through all of this. Through bloodlust and pain and misery. You were patient. You cared.” As he’s speaking your heart starts beating loudly, blood pumping through your arteries at an almost vulgar rate. You know he can tell, and he chuckles softly. Cupping his hand below your ear and gently stroking your cheek with his thumb, he adds teasingly, “You trusted me when that was an objectively stupid thing to do.” He pulls you even closer and rests his forehead against yours. You could never get tired of this. As much as you love those moments filled with heat and lust, there’s something so tender about these intimate gestures that aren’t about sex.

“I feel safe with you. Seen. And whatever the future holds for me, I don’t want to lose that.” You grasp at the back of his shirt, looking for purchase as you fall so much more deeply for him. Your voice is barely above a whisper as you breathe, “You won’t. Whatever comes next, I’ve got you.”

“Thank you.”

You two stand there for what feels like both an eternity and a fraction of a second before he pulls away and looks at the grave again.

“Well. I should probably fix this.” He pulls a dagger from his belt with practiced fingers and kneels beside the stone, carving something into it. You kneel beside him and see that it now reads

Astarion Ancunin 1229 DR - 1268 DR 1492 DR -

His new life. For the first time in two hundred years, he can call it his own. You find yourself at a loss of what to do, or what to add, so you self-consciously pick up a nearby wildflower and gently place it at the base of his gravestone. He glances at you sideways and smirks, “Cute.” You both sit back on your heels to admire his work. He heaves a great sigh, letting go of centuries of tension and fear.

“I’ve been dead in the ground for long enough. It’s time to start living again.” He turns to you and takes your hands. “With everything life has to offer.” His voice has taken on that gravelly tone that sends a shiver up your spine. You don’t want to pressure him, of course, but your desire for his touch is getting harder to ignore. These gentle grazes, lovely though they’ve been, have set your skin aflame.

“Meaning…?”

His eyes glint mischievously and that familiar flirty lilt comes back to his voice. “If a night of passion is on offer, I could be persuaded.” Your body leans toward him instinctively, breath heavy in your chest. The words are out of your mouth before your brain catches up, “Sounds good to me.” He gets close to your face and you can feel his breath on your lips before he pulls away suddenly. He’s teasing you, and you know that he’s relishing in the satisfaction of it.

“You know,” he says with a feigned innocence, as though he doesn’t know the effect he has on you, “I didn’t care for you when we first met.” The sudden shift in tone knocks you back to reality, and you can’t help but laugh. He impishly glances up at you through his lashes.

“But I do now. Being with you is about more than lust or manipulating you into a tactical alliance.” He takes your hand, cheekiness gone, and looks you squarely in the eye with a rare earnestness. “I love you. I love this. And I want it all.” You will never tire of hearing those words. He reaches behind your ear and tenderly pulls you closer to him, finally giving your lips the reprieve they’ve been so desperate for. It’s a soft kiss, gentle, yet it still makes you burn up inside.

He pulls away far too soon, and you gaze back at him with starry eyes. His features is soft and smiley, but in an instant he raises on his knees so he’s towering over you and he takes on that stern expression that makes your temperature rise. He shoves you back onto your elbows before bending down to crawl up your torso hungrily. He kisses you again, this time with more intensity. He pins you down with the weight of his chest and then traps you further by nudging your leg up with his knee, eliciting a small gasp of surprise from you. You couldn’t escape even if you wanted to. And you most certainly don’t want to.

His body presses against yours and you curl your leg around him, pulling him tighter. An almost imperceptible grunt escapes his lips and you smile through your kiss. You can feel his smile in return and you lace your fingers into his silvery hair. He deepens the kiss, rolling his hips harder against you and your mouth opens involuntarily. He takes advantage of this momentary lapse and makes his way toward your neck, marking the trail with kisses. You seize up and your fingers tighten in his hair, encouraging him silently. But he needs more than that, and you know exactly how he’ll respond.

“Use your words,” he hums between kisses. You squirm beneath him, trying to sound even remotely dignified.

“You can,” you manage to gasp out as you try to suppress the moans that his lips are tearing from your throat. He flicks his tongue right over his usual puncture wounds and then gently trails it up the shell of your ear. You shiver with the intensity of it all.

“I can… what? I can’t know unless you tell me.” How the fuck does his voice stay this even? You can bearly even think straight, let alone string full sentences together. And yet he remains calm, nigh indifferent to the effect he’s having on you. But as cool as he is on the surface, you know how much he wants it. You both love the teasing, each night a challenge to see who can outlast the other.

“You can bite me,” you breathe and he nips at your ear ever so lightly, causing you to choke out the last few words, “if you want.”

“If I want? But what do you want?” He emphasizes the pronouns in a singsongy tone, and even hearing “I” and “you” in the same sentence does it for you. He’s still grinding against you all while assaulting your neck with filthy kisses. You try to remember what words are.

“I want you,” you gasp, trying to keep your words legible, “to bite me.” You suck in sharply through your teeth as he hitches your leg up a little higher. He grabs both of your wrists in one hand and pins them above your head.

“Are you sure?” his tone is still infuriatingly innocent. He knows how much you want this, and you know what he wants in return. You’re not quite ready to give it to him yet. But gods how you wish he would break first tonight. Odds aren’t looking great as his free hand slips behind your lower back causing you to arch it off the ground slightly.

“Yes,” you groan in agony as his lips continues their heinous walk up and down your neck and collarbone. “Please, Astarion. I want you to.” He nips you again at the same time that he presses his thigh right at the apex between your legs. He tightens his grip on your wrists and whispers sharply in your ear.

“Beg for it.”

That’s it. You’ve lost. You cry out in a delicious mix of pain and pleasure. The words come tumbling out of you, unbidden and unburdened.

“Please, Astarion, bite me. Please please please. Bite me. I want to feel your fangs pierce my skin. I want to know the feeling of my blood inside you. Gods, please, I can’t take it any longer and if you don’t bite me soon I think I might-”

Thank the realms that he cuts you off in that moment, acquiescing to your begging, because you have no idea how you planned to finish that sentence. The sharp moment of pleasure as he sinks in, followed by the loveliness of feeling your blood flow into his mouth. It makes you feel slightly lightheaded, and the high it gives you is better than any you might hope to achieve on Elendren pipeweed. The gentle feeling of his tongue lapping at your neck contrasts beautifully with the sharp tension of him sucking the blood out of you. You can feel him starting to get lost in your neck, his grip on your wrists loosening. You use this moment of vulnerability in Astarion to get him back by arching your back even more to move your hips against his. You hear the sudden intake of breath through his nose and you smile to yourself smugly. He knows what you did and isn’t about to take it lying down, metaphorically speaking.

Once he’s had his fill he draws away from your neck, lips stained red with your blood. He sits up again, one knee between your legs as he looks down on you. He tsks quietly as he shakes his head, drawling, “So naughty. What am I to do with you?” You prop yourself up on your elbows and return his gaze wickedly, your blood tickling your neck as it drips down toward your shoulder. He swipes at the drop with a long pale finger and lasciviously sucks your blood off his fingertip. Your smug grin is back, knowing how weak he is for you.

His face drops into that stern expression again, but this time a devilish smile plays on his lips. He puts his hand on your chest gently, then takes a hard turn as he grabs you by the throat. Not enough to be painful, nor enough to constrict your breathing, but just enough for him to have control. He studies your face for a moment, admiring its beauty, before he yanks you upward commanding you to look him in the eye. He leans in for a forceful kiss as he keeps his hand tight beneath your jaw. You start to lose yourself in the kiss, melting into him, and he takes the opportunity to sharply push you away, his pointer lingering on your chin to show that he’s still in control of where you look. He lets you go and leans back confidently, enjoying how you’ve become extremely pliable in his hands.

He stands to loom over you for a second more, then reaches for your hand to pull you up. You’re completely under his power and couldn’t be more than happy to give him whatever he wants. You take his hand and he pulls it behind his back, pressing your chest into his.

“You’d better be good for me,” he murmurs against your lips, once again denying the kiss you ache for. “We wouldn’t want to punish any bad behavior, now would we?” He caresses your face momentarily and then turns with your hand still in his and pulls you toward… somewhere. Honestly, you couldn’t care where. You love him, and you love this, and you’ll go wherever he leads.

#astarion fanfiction #astarion ancunin #astarion bg3 #baldurs gate astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x you #astarion x gn reader #astarion x gn!tav #bg3 spoilers #baldur's gate 3 spoilers #astarion angst #astarion fluff

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strawberri-blonde · 9 months

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Making Up For Lost Time - Neteyam

Praise mother @cinetrix 🧎‍♀️for this creation and let’s all thank @amora16447 for this request of a part 2 or otherwise I really wouldn’t have made a part 2 for swaynivi. Hope you enjoy now sit back and relax and enjoy this 7K read. (Can be read at a stand alone)

Summary: after not seeing each other for a week, Neteyam gifts you with a surprise and makes up for lost time.

Warning: PORNNNN WITH A PLOT BABY. oral (f), fingering, dry humping, grinding, overstimulation , sex and a little fluff ( cause I’m a sucker for a soft Neteyam sue me)

Masterlist

"The boy moves down your body, leaving open-mouthed kisses lingering. His mouth just hovers over where you need him the most. 'Don't worry, Y/n. Once I'm done with you, you won't be able to move or even think of leaving this place.'"

Feeling Neteyam's hot breath flush against your skin sent excitement to course through your veins. "So pretty, Y/n." Your back arched off the surface of the swaynivi; you still couldn't get over the fact that Neteyam had crafted this beautiful woven nest just for the two of you. With strong hands, Neteyam lifted your slender legs slightly to throw them over his shoulder to better access your mound. Your loincloth was long gone, exposing your glistening heat to his greedy eyes. "Did I do this, Yawne, or was it from Lo'ak?"

The question threw you off, causing your mind to spin with anticipation. Neteyam's lips had yet to meet the place that craved his touch the most, and just when you thought it couldn't get any more frustrating, he mentioned his brother. But then it hit you. Earlier, in an act of revenge for Neteyam's absence from training, Lo'ak drenched both of you with a bucket of water. He tried to sabotage Neteyam's special gift for you, but nothing could dampen the intensity of this moment. As your hands glided over the silky texture of the swaynivi, you couldn't help but yearn for Neteyam's embrace, hoping to convey just how desperate you were becoming.

"It was you, Ma'Teyam." You moaned out, reaching your hands towards his hair as he pressed open-mouth kisses along the inner of your thighs. "Always gonna be you, baby."

The man's eyes shined with excitement, seeing you grow with need. "That's right syulang." He moaned out, then pressed a kiss to the top of your mound, making you squirm, but Neteyam's huge hands slid from your thighs to your hips, keeping you in place on top of the branch-like structure. The sun shined down onto your sweaty bodies, and you could feel the breeze against your blue bodies. "Always gonna be the one making this pussy wet." Finally, his soft lips pressed a kiss onto your velvet skin.

You gasped out, feeling his kiss on your outer lips which turned into a high pitch whine as he licked straight from the small patch of flesh located just under your opening to flatten his tongue against you entirely, licking a form but sensual lick up towards your clit circling the tip of his tongue against it before sucking down onto the little swollen bud. "Praise Ewya, holyshot." Hearing your broken English, Neteyam couldn't help but lose himself in the sounds of your pleasure. It drove him crazy. He moved his hands from your hips to your legs that were still thrown over his shoulder and pinned them to the nest, putting your legs in the butterfly position, stretching you out, allowing him to completely bury himself deep in your cunt.

Your back couldn't help but arch as the pressure from his tongue was almost too much. Feeling his tongue ravishing your heat was an unworldly experience. The soft textured muscle flickered around your clit, continuously. Your hands reached for his braids, needing to touch him. "Neteyam, it's so good." Once you felt the silky soft braids, you clenched around them. Neteyam's amber eyes locked down onto your own. He pulled away from your mound with a kiss, then held onto his blinding smile.

"I've got you, baby girl." His swollen lips caught your attention, and his face was wet, not from Lo'ak's bucket of water this time. Your slick covers him, from his broad nose to his chin. "Making up for lost time," he says.

Your busy schedules have made it challenging to find intimate moments together. You often wake up and go to sleep alone because Neteyam leaves early and comes home late. But the sweet notes and tiny gifts he leaves for you, along with your efforts to ensure he has food, even if it's cold, keep you connected. Packing him goodies baskets with a heart-stitched cloth you made yourself, filled with his favorite fruits and nuts, shows how much you care for him. It's these thoughtful gestures that strengthen your bond.

Without the constant touch of Neteyam's lips and the warmth of his body against yours, your days feel dull and lacking that spark. Waking up without his arms wrapped around you leaves your heart longing for something important. The nights have been lonely as you wait for him in bed, with your limbs yearning for his touch. While spending time with the other clan women helps keep you occupied, they just can't compare to Neteyam. Your nights are filled with dreams of him, and your mind often wanders to the times your lips were locked together.

"Been so long since I've seen my pretty girl’s pussy. Too long." A loud screech-like moan left your mouth as Neteyam sucked down onto your clit, circling your opening with his pointer finger teasing you.

"Nete, please, I'm almost-" Your words were caught in your throat as his tongue dropped, slurping your juices, and moaning against your heat while kneading your soft skin. His tongue poked at your entrance, making Neteyam moan more from your taste. You were better than anything the man had eaten in his life.

The vibrations from his tongue sent goosebumps to litter your skin. Your hips buckled against his face while your eyes rolled in the back of your head, feeling the familiar hot coil forming in the pit of your stomach.

Your body tensed up, making Neteyam quicken his pace thrusting his tongue deeply within you, smothering himself within your wet cunt to the point where his nose nuzzled your swollen bud. "Teyammm." You dragged on, feeling his wide nose add such delicious press into your clit, sending you to orgasm. Your body arched itself off the floor, tensing through your pleasure's haze. Neteyam, however, wasn’t giving up his tongue swirling. He wanted to drink you dry. Seeing your body convulse on his tongue had him pulling away from your sweet cunt with a winning smile but holding such a scary lustful look in his eyes.

"Was that good, Yawne?" Your body still switched here and there as his hands left your legs to rest while he climbed over your sweaty body to kiss your lips.

A tingle spread through your insides as his open-mouth kisses trailed your hot skin. The sensation and his loving touches filled your heart. His mouth lingered on your cheek, quickly kissing your lips, allowing you to get some juice in your mouth. "Ma'Y/n, I need words."

Your hands flew towards his face, pulling him into a kiss, mumbling against him, "So good, Neteyam." Your mouths moved together intensely in unison before he pulled away to kiss along your jaw. "You always make me feel so good." Your voice sounded strained, but neither of you took notice.

"Not recently," Neteyam confessed, his guilty expression causing you to prop yourself up on your elbows. He pulled away momentarily, only to settle himself back into his rightful place between your legs. His eyes met yours, filled with a mix of longing and anticipation.

"Muntxatan," you reached out to caress his wet cheek, making him lean into your touch. "You've been busy-" Neteyam silences your protests with a passionate kiss filled with lust and passion, pushing you back onto the structure. His lips press firmly against yours, and his tongue forcefully enters your mouth, claiming you as his prize. His hands slide down your sides, then slowly begin to tease you. Your body responds to his touch, your heart beating faster as the blood rushes to your cheeks. You try to pull away, but Neteyam holds you in place. You utterly surrendered to him.

"I should never be too busy for you ever." He pulls away to run his hands through your loose hair. "Without you, I'd be nothing, yawne." He kisses you with the same passion as his hands cupped your boobs in his warm grasp, making you crave his touch again. "When was the last time I'd taken care of my girl? I have to make it up to you." You knew he remembered the last time you were intimate, but he wanted to see you squirm for him, and honestly, who were you to deny your handsome husband?

"7 days." This made Neteyam shake his head in disbelief as if he couldn't believe he hadn't been with you intimately for a week.

"7 days." The warrior mumbles, disappointed with himself. "7 days since I've sunk my cock into that warm cunt." Your breath caught in your throat as his lips caressed your jaw, making his way back down your body, leaving you trembling from need. "7 days since I took care of my girl, but don't worry, yawne; I'll make up for lost time."

Truthfully, you had missed the feel of Neteyam's intimate touch; you longed for his skin, lips, caresses, and breath against your neck. You craved how his fingers gently glide up your thighs, teasing you and building anticipation. Just one touch from him sets your body on fire, making your heart flutter joyfully.

"I've missed you, Teyam." You close your eyes as he kisses your hips while his hands gently part your legs, sliding a finger through your folds and sending shivers down your spine.

"Mmm," he hummed, taking his time kissing every tiny part of your skin, making patterns along your blue strips, nearing where you needed him the most. "Well, good thing we now have a place to make up for lost time." Finally, his middle finger circled your opening before sinking into your wet, warm entrance.

You immediately moaned his name, reaching your hand to your face while the other reached for his touch. The muscles in his arms bulged as his arm wrapped itself under your leg to your extended hand, causing some of his hair strains to fall perfectly in front of his face. The way he didn't even have to try and look good always amazed you.

"Keep looking at me." You didn't mean for the words to escape your lips, but it seemed that they had a mind of their own.

Neteyam's eyes are piercing with a desire to yours as your words tumble out of your mouth. He looks into your bright blue eyes and smiles seductively, and his finger pulls out only to add another to stroke your insides softly. His intense and passionate gaze sends a hot flush across your cheeks. You feel your toes curl and hear a slight moan escape your lips, not knowing where it came from. "You want my attention, baby girl?" Neteyam kissed the skin of your mound continuously, the slow and steady pace of his fingers pumping in and out of your sweet pussy. "Didn't have it for a week, so you don't know how to act?" His words had you tighten your grip on his fingers in your wet walls.

"Just so goddamn handsome." You bellowed, watching as he grinned at your compliment and continued looking at you with his intense, smoldering gaze. He slowly lowers himself back to you, his tongue trailing across your velvet lips in a slow, provocative kiss. His lips meet your skin again, his mouth open as his tongue probes its way into your folds.

Neteyam's hands tighten on yours as his fingers begin to scissor inside your vagina, plunging as far back as his fingertips feel the soft sponge within. Your flesh is warm and wet to his touch, tingling his spine.

The sensation had you tilted your head back against the soft surface of the swaynivi. Neteyam sucked hard on your clit, making you jerk your attention back down towards your husband. His eyes pierced towards you, entirely darkened by lust, only allowing the slightest ring of fire to be seen. "Keep looking at me." He took your words out of your mouth. "Just so goddamn sexy."

"Ma'teyam." You moaned out with loud cries, whimpers, and other embarrassing sounds, but Neteyam's fingers pumped into you, and the work of his flicking tongue on your bud was so intense. Your stomach tensed as heat increased within your walls. "Te- Teyam-yam." Your stutter moan fell through your oval-shaped, open expression. Your eyebrows were bunched together, and you looked dazed as you watched him completely devour you. Noticing how close you were, Neteyam made sure not to change his form pace, only perfecting the hits to your g-spot over and over until. "Ne-"A loud squeal cut you short as another orgasm seemed to rush over your entire body like your nerve’s fireworks.

Your blue eyes glossed over, and your hand was interlocked with his. You tried to squirm away, but his stronghold kept you in place to help you work through your high. His lips continued to caress your sensitive, wet skin as he felt that your orgasm had run its course.

Your skin is covered with sweat, and you still have this achy kind of burning sensation within your clit, but it feels good. He made you feel so good. You didn't move as you watched him slowly climb over your flattened body to press kisses against your hot nipples, mended with the heat of his mouth.

"Teyam." You squeal, feeling the sensation, especially since you have just come off your second high for the evening. He chuckled against your skin, sending vibrations against your breast, causing you to gasp breathlessly. "Too sensitive." Neteyam's lips slipped off you with a pop, instantly bringing his eyes back in yours, searching for your attention to check for reassurance.

As you and Neteyam shared a tender moment, he gently sucked off the juices from his fingers before caressing your face. Your eyes, still droopy, revealed the aftermath of your shared intimacy. However, what truly made Neteyam's heart swell was the silly grin that adorned your sweet lips. His love for you was evident as he chuckled, feeling intoxicated by your sweet taste. Neteyam's tender lips pressed against the corners of your lips, his nose playfully nudging against yours. "You still with me, muntxate?" He whispered making you let out soft giggles.

"You make me feel so good." Your voice was a soft, cheeky whisper.

Neteyam kisses you softly, he looks down at you and smiles. His hands caress your arms, and he strokes your hair gently. Neteyam looks into your eyes and gazes at you with love and affection. He then kisses you softly, filling you with passion and desire. This is exactly what you need: his warm, comforting, sensual embrace. He takes your breath away, and you don't want to let him go. You are his, and he is yours.

You feel him nimble on your bottom lip, accidentally grinding his painfully hard cock against your sweaty skin. His loincloth was still on, keeping his dick from springing to action. You moan, feeling the familiar bulge and wanting to see it. "Neteyam," you whimpered against his mouth, wrapping your arms around his neck, and wiggling your hips, trying to feel his clothed cock against your pussy.

Neteyam pulls away from the passionate kiss and trails a couple of soft caresses up your neck and to your ear. "Still not ready to stop?" He slowly rocked his hips back into yours, allowing him to feel that friction. He wanted to rip his loincloth off and fuck into you so bad, but he was on a mission to make up for lost time.

"Neteyam, I want you inside of me so bad." You growl out to your mate. Making him smile down at you, then gently tap your jaw with a finger.

"Relax, and let me explore your body some more." He whispers seductively into your ear, and you shiver as your body responds to his touch and the way his hips rocked against your own.

Neteyam then kisses your neck, slowly down to your chest. As the warm breeze drifts over your skin, he takes a moment to admire your exposed flesh before slowly gliding his lips and tongue across your sensitive skin. He pulls back slightly and meets your gaze, with a smile of satisfaction on his face as he watches you take in the sensation of his touch.

"Gotta be the luckiest warrior ever to have you be my mate, Y/n. So pretty." His praises did more work, riling you back up more than you expected. But Neteyam's words always made you feel incredible.

"Oh, Teyam." Your breaths come in quick, like shallow gasps as his lips explore your body more intimately. His tongue teases over your breasts, and his lips gently nibble your skin. He slowly sucks on your sensitive spots, caressing your body with firm yet gentle hands. He takes his time, thoroughly enjoying every inch of your beautiful body as he moves slowly down your curves. His kisses get hungrier, more passionate.

"Oh my," you gasped as his tongue licked up from the bottom of your breast to latch himself onto your left nipple. The most sensitive one. Exotic sounds or some form of Neteyam's name was all you could muster out from the pleasure, then to add fire to the fiery, his cock was grinding in all the right spots on your very sensitive mound.

"Teyam, please." He moaned against you, sending shockwaves through your body toward your heat, which paralyzed you due to the sensation. "Cock-" words choked from your lips as his thrust became quicker, harder.

Neteyam was fighting so hard not to cum as he looked up at you with your eyes rolled in the back of your head with your teeth biting your now swollen lips. His hand flew towards your hips and started to add more grinding force feeling a little precum cover the inside of his loincloth while the exterior was all soaked due to your wet pussy. She was swollen and sensitive but greedy after not having her man for so long, willing to take anything Neteyam was doing to her, especially if that meant coming again.

Between his tongue latching into your nip, flickering in a fast motion, and his dick gliding against your clit, darkness covered your vision as fire spread through you. Every nerve in your body tingles with pleasure, sending goosebumps down from another high. Neteyam slammed his hips against yours abruptly stalling his motions to keep himself from coming, almost like he was punishing himself from pleasure.

His lips pulled away from you. "Good girl, yawne. You did amazing for me. Can't get over how blessed I am." He whispers sweet praises, staring down at your closed eyes, just waiting to get a glimpse of those blue eyes.

As he tenderly brushed away the strands of hair from your face, a mix of sweat and anticipation filled the air. You slowly opened your eyes with a mischievous grin, meeting his gaze. Blushing, your body still tingling from his touch, you couldn't help but playfully tease him. "I should be saying 'blessed,'" you chuckled, leaning closer. Gently kissing his lips, you whispered seductively, "If you were a god, I would definitely be worshiping you right now."

Neteyam grins and gently places his fingers on your chin, lifting it so you are forced to look back at him. He brings his face closer, and his lips meet yours again in a fierce and passionate kiss. There is no holding back; all there is desire and pure want. You can taste his lust as it flows over your tongue. You can feel his heart pounding in his chest as it thuds against yours. You are drowning in his touch, your body trembling with pleasure.

Your mound felt sore, but your walls ached for a different reason. They needed him; more specifically, they needed the girth between his legs, which always seemed to ease the pain. "Neteyam." Hearing you mumble his name against his lips, the warrior pulled away to stare back into your ocean eyes.

"Yes, Yawne?" Neteyam asks, his eyes filled with desire as he watches your lips move against his. You want him. You need him. Your voice sounds distant as if it's coming from another place, another time. You can feel your body wanting him and your heart needing him. You are lost, lost in Neteyam and his touch.

"I want your cock." Seeing the mischievous sprinkle in his eyes, you couldn't stop rambling. "Like I want your cock Teyam. I've been such a good girl, haven't I been? Just like…" You're a mess from his touch and couldn’t get enough of him. "Just fuck me already."

Neteyam let a cursed moan escape his lips upon hearing those sinful words. Your words instantly flush his face with passion, and he bites his lips in an attempt to hold back his emotions. "You've been so good, baby. My perfect girl." He looks down at you momentarily before leaning down and kissing you passionately, running his fingers through your long hair. Your hands ran down his back until they reached over towards his loincloths, loosing it for him, making him chuckle into the heated kiss. "Wanted to make it up for you, yawne." If you weren't so fucked out, you would swoon over his words, but you felt almost animalistic for this man.

Your sweaty hands yanked onto the material, clawing at his skin, until you pulled it down the curve of his toned ass. Before Neteyam could process, he felt your tiny hand palm at his butt, then felt your right hand grip the base of his tail immediately, causing him to thrust into you. "Didn't know you wanted it that bad, Y/n?" You let out a playful whine, causing him to chuckle, and you couldn't help but join in, laughing along with him.

"Neteyam, please stop making me beg." Your mate's eyes widen, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth, pulling away from your body to sit on the back of his legs. Your eyes instantly trailed down his handsome face to reach his broad shoulders. Your eyes trailed down his sculpted chest to his toned abs, taking him in and making your mouth water. However, as your eyes followed down his lean build, you stopped once you landed on his still-covered cock.

The navy-blue material hung loose off his erect penis. And the way it seemed to drape over the considerable bulge had your hands squeezing from anticipation. Your mouth watering just thinking of it. Neteyam couldn't help but let a smirk appear as he looked at your hungry gaze. "If you stare any longer, you'll burn a hole through the fabric."

You wiggle your hips while reaching toward the cloth. "What if I wanted that to happen." You grabbed onto the silk material, slowly pulling it away, and watched with widened eyes. Once the material left his member, his dick bounced in the air, practically screaming for attention. "Oh, Eywa."

His once soft purplish/pink tip is now a hot pink, and the blue base of his cock looked rock solid with veins running along the length. It looks so painfully that you swear you can see the veins pulsing even from your position with your back on the floor of the swaynivi. "Neteyam, I need it."

Your hand reached out to grab his swollen tip seeing his pre-cum glisten in the sunshine. As your fingertips barely graze the skin, Neteyam gently pushed you away from him, taking himself in hand to slip his coated tip against your sensitive cunt. Your legs squirmed at the sensation, and your hands flew to your face.

"Does this feel good, my pretty girl?" He lays his neglected throbbing cock between your folds, rolling his hip at an experimental pace causing whimpers to escape both of your mouths.

"Neteyam." You could only muster out his name as he found his rhythm between your velvet lips. Your slick covered his member, making it easy for him to slide up and down onto your clit. You were so sensitive that your body started shaking from the pleasure.

The way your breast jiggled with his thrust Neteyam was losing his composure. One hand left your hip to guide the tip of his cock towards your gaping hole, sinking just his tip in before pulling back to run it back to your bud. "Put it in." You whined, feeling his tip tease you back and forth. Neteyam fused his nonexistent eyebrows, causing a crinkle on the top of his nose. He was concentrating.

Neteyam slapped his tip against your bud again, having you arch off the floor. "Yawne, I think you can give me one more, then I'll stuff you full to the rim." Immediately you groaned in despair, anger, and pleasure all in one. "Oh, don't be like that after I've given you three orgasms, my flower." Your arms felt shaky as you tried to sit up, but Neteyam immediately shut that down by placing a hand on your chest. He knew you were getting antsy and loved every frustrated groan leaving your lips. "Just one more, yawne, and I promise you'll have me. I just need you to cum again for me, baby girl." Meanwhile, this is happening. Neteyam never stopped running his tip through and over your folds.

Your body jerked and spasmed as his hips rotated into you, hitting all the right angles against your sensitive area. Your eyes closed, taking in the pleasure of his hard cock humping against your clit, creating delicious friction. "So pretty Yawne." Your heart pounds in your chest as it doesn't take long for you to feel that hot tension within you again for the fourth time tonight.

Hearing those sweet moans escape your lips, Neteyam's senses were overrun with desire. The way your soft wet skin felt against his member had him leaking pre-cum all over your sweet folds. With the amount of slick forming from you both, you could feel it drip down your cheeks to pool around your tail to leak in the smooth structure of the hand-crafted nest. Your breath hitched in your throat as his hand slipped towards your breast fumbling them in his hand while thrusting his tip over your swollen clit.

Your curses mixed with his name echoed through the air as your body reacted to the intense build-up within you. With a sudden jolt, your vivid blue eyes burst open, locking onto Neteyam's captivating presence. His braids danced before his face, while the glistening sweat on his body created a halo of sunlight, casting him in a godly light. And oh, those eyes of his, dark and primal, seemed to pierce your very soul. He looked absolutely irresistible, and the sight of him pushed you beyond the edge of control. It was a moment of raw desire and primal attraction.

"Teyam." You manage to moan out, feeling the intensity of the orgasm wash over you and blur your vision. Your skin felt like it was on fire. There was a buildup of tension in your abdomen that arches your back and curls your toes, almost like a clenching feeling.

Without warning, Neteyam trailed the tip of his cock down from your clit, to your opening, ramming himself in your warm and wet hole. A broken loud moan escaped your lips, causing birds to fly out of the enormous tree.

“Fucking shit," Neteyam moaned and grabbed your legs to wrap them around his waist, wasting no time jackhammering inside your overstimulated clenched walls. You were unbelievably tight, squeezing his member as you were settling from your high, but the way Neteyam positioned your hips, lifting them up to meet his thrust, your eyes rolled in the back of your head from the sensation.

Neteyam was completely lost in you, his murmurs filled with the sheer pleasure of your touch. By denying himself earlier, he had built up an exquisite anticipation that only intensified the ecstasy between you. It was as if the very essence of your connection ignited a passionate fire, reminiscent of the heat that consumes both of you.

Your gummy walls bared down onto him, suffocating his thick cock, but that only made his thrust harder, more profound. His hips were mercilessly pounding into you, hitting your cervix, making your mouth widen as if a scream was sprouting from your lungs, but your body had completely shut down with pleasure. Between the multiple orgasms and how Neteyam continued to make you feel, your body took over, letting your mind fall back a little.

Seeing your closed eyes and open mouth, Neteyam immediately leaned down, not stopping his pace to cover your mouth with his in a heated kiss. Your body instantly responded as your swollen lips mended with your mates. Neteyam grunted and groaned into your mouth, making you pant out.

"My pretty girl." The warrior moaned against your lips, pulling away with a nimble to your bottom lip, then rested his forehead against yours, looking down at you as he bent your legs into your chest wall, also widening your thighs, giving him more leverage to the warm tight center. Your hands flew to his back surly, leaving scratch marks on his beautiful blue skin. "Pussy's always so tight." Your mind was fog, only taking in his praises, not having the energy to respond, feeling the tender, incredible sensation of his cock thrusting into you, hitting all your sensitive spots. "I love this pussy. I love you." his hand flew toward your nipple, pinching the skin and making your vocal cords come alive. Your throat hurt from your screams of pleasure, but it didn't matter as your body started to convulse.

Neteyam bit his lip, trying to contain his pathetic whimpers, but they were no match to the feeling of you clenching down on his cock. He knew you were close, and even more embarrassingly, Neteyam felt like he was going to cum soon too. His lips sloppily kissed over the skin as his nimble fingers twirled the soft bundle of nerves of your nipple in his grasp, which caused you to clench around him while holding onto his body for dear life. "Nete-" you manage to squeal as you reach another orgasm.

"Fuck, baby, I'm-” Neteyam’s thrusts became sloppy as his own orgasm reached its highest peak chasing after yours. His face scrunched together, and his hands left your nipples to place them on the flooring beside your head, locking you in his embrace. Pants escaped his lips as his seed painted by your walls, claiming you to him.

Your body ached, but it was a good pain. You didn't move your arms from around him as you attempted to catch your breath. Neteyam felt your shaky body against his and pressed kisses along your face before grabbing his queue to bring it over his shoulder. He needed to feel your emotions to be one with you. "Muntxate." His words vibrated against your cheek, but your mind was still dazed over from the constant highs. "Tsaheylu?" Without saying anything, you reached for your long braid, but Neteyam stopped you with a kiss to grab it for you.

"Need to be one with you." You didn't need him to explain himself. You never needed him to explain himself when it came to Tsaheylu.

"Please.” You watched in awe as Neteyam skillfully brought the ends of the braids together, and the swirling pink tendrils eagerly intertwined as if they were longing for connection.

Once, the nerve endings met frantically intertwined with one another. Neteyam's eyes rolled in the back of his head as he felt the hot, tiresome tension within his soul. He could feel the pleasure pumping through your veins and the amount of love radiating between you. He couldn't help bucking his hips into your warm, used hole.

Your body tingles with sensations as the adrenaline still rushes through your blood. You feel closer to Neteyam than before, as the intimate moment has strengthened your bond. You feel deeply grateful for his affection and want to be close to him physically and emotionally.

"My good girl." Neteyam began to praise you as his mind swirled with your emotions being consumed with you entirely. Even with sweat covering your entire body, you still manage to smell like the sweetest flower, and let's not forget the whimpers escaping your lips, it all had him runt into your unmercifully. You were so tired that you couldn't do anything but cling to him, letting him use you to his demise. Your pussy felt raw as his hips slammed into yours repeatedly but curse him for hitting all the right spots. "You're so tight. How are you still tight." You had no idea because your hole felt stretched from his size.

It seemed that the longer he was inside you, the more he grew despite just coming minutes earlier. Feeling him through the bond and how good you made him feel, your legs shook, making Neteyam swiftly lay your left leg down, and while he was still buried so deep inside you, he lifted your right leg over his body to flip you on your side.

You thought you could've come again from the way his dick twisted inside of your guts, and his sounds alone have you squeezing around him letting out a whine that ended with a hiss from the stinging of your sensitive mound. "Teyam." You moaned out as he settled behind you, leaving sloppy kisses everywhere on your skin. The forest air was hot, and the moment's intensity didn't help the tension, making your bodies feel like they were on fire.

His lower hand was behind your back, helping him lean over you slightly, causing you to position yourself more on your stomach but still mainly on your side. His right hand lifted your leg towards your stomach, resting it there for a moment but finding that it caused his thrusts to become sloppy. So Neteyam grabbed onto your hip, adding a few more forceful thrusts to make up for the fact that he was going to cum again soon.

Your walls squeezed around his cock as his hand slipped from your waist towards your breast. Your body shook as your whole body tensed, including your pulsing walls. Neteyam spewed praises out his mouth as he spilled himself inside with a loud moan. “Fuck, Y/n.” Feeling Neteyam fill your hole and the pleasure he was experiencing through Tsaheylu immediately transferred through every fiber of your soul. “So fucking good.” Your vision blackened, and your body collapsed against the floor of the swaynivi as you both let the high course through your bodies.

Neteyam could feel the exhaustion from your body, so he pressed kisses to the back of your head, feeling himself soften inside your warm embrace. Slowly he pulled out of you, instantly causing you to whine, feeling so empty. "Shh yawne." Your mate hummed as he helped you onto your back, making you feel the combined juices spill from your opening, running down towards your butt towards your tail. “We made such a mess.”

You couldn’t even hum out a response from how tired you were. Neteyam had put your body through a workout, making you have multiple orgasms within one night, and you loved every second of it. Your eyelids were heavy, allowing you to open them for a split second before closing them again. “You tired, baby?” Neteyam didn’t have to ask. He could feel how exhausted you were through the bond, and he didn’t know if he was proud of himself or hated that he made you like this.

His worry and pride enveloped you, prompting your eyes to flutter open, curiosity guiding your gaze towards him. "You took such good care of me," you whispered, confessing your gratitude. Neteyam's face lit up with a radiant grin, his hand reaching out to grasp yours. Leaning down, he tenderly pressed a kiss to your damp forehead, a gesture filled with love and affection.

“You deserve the best, yawne, but stay awake for a little while longer. Let me clean you up and feed you.” Your eyes dropped again, satisfied with his answer, and you felt him move away from you causing the swaynivi to sway from the movement. His hands caressed your smooth skin as he pulled himself back towards your messy heat. “Poor girl took so much. Let me clean you up.” You couldn’t process his words, still a little cockdrunk and overwhelmed from the constant stimulation that you didn’t notice him setting himself between your legs. Your mind was in a haze until you let a clear lick at your folds.

Your body jerked from the motion, clearly still sensitive over the multiple orgasms, but Neteyam’s hands gripped your hips, keeping you in place. “Nete too sensitive.” You whined out as he continued to lick you clean of the mix of juices.

“Last time yawne, just cleaning my girl up, that’s all.” If you weren’t so fucked out, you could hear the malicious tone in his voice.

He buried himself deep within your cunt, swirling his tip over your opening and dropping his tongue to your butthole, collecting the juices, and making you reach your hand down to push him away, but Neteyam was strong. Your delicate hands pawing at his scalp did nothing but make him quicken his pace lapping up the combined taste of the two of you, and he couldn’t help but moan. You taste amazing together.

Having him moan around your mound sent chills down your spine. “Neteyam, I can’t.” Your eyes couldn’t even open from the sensation of his tongue swirling around your opening to flickering your clit. “Please, I’m too sensitive.”

Your hand reaches down your queue to grasp the connecting point of your bond, squeezing down as a silent scream sprung from your lips. His lips sucked down on your entire mound like he was a starved animal. “Teyam.” You barely managed to mumble out his name as his tongue lapped you up as your last high washed over you for the night.

Neteyam gave your velvet lips one final, tender kiss before reaching for the long-forgotten fruit basket he had prepared just for you. It was his way of reciprocating the thoughtful goodie baskets you had been making for him during his busy week. As he reached for the basket, a wave of euphoria washed over your body, rendering you momentarily immobility. Sensing your need, Neteyam swiftly grabbed the water poof leaf-canteen and opened the top to quench your thirst. His large hands lovingly caressed your flushed face, his silly smile and crinkled eyes showing his affection.

“Yawne, I’m so sorry did I go too rough? Just wanted to make up for lost time,” Neteyam apologized. He definitely succeeded in bringing you to new heights of pleasure. Skillfully, his fingers moved from behind your head to your neck, providing a comforting embrace after a passionate night. "Open your mouth," he softly instructed, catching your attention. As you slowly opened your eyes, you felt the smooth texture of the canteen and the refreshing coldness of the water.

Once your dark vision met the lightness of the sky, nothing could compare to the first gaze of those amber eyes you loved so dearly. “There’s my girl.” You clenched your legs together; from the throbbing pain of the your vagina; and his praises didn’t help.

The cool breeze from Pandora brushed against your glistening skin as the water quenched your parched throat. A contented moan escaped your lips, instantly revitalizing your body. Neteyam's worries melted away as he saw your consciousness returning. "Y/n, my love, you were incredible for me," he expressed with admiration. As you finished drinking, you returned the water to Neteyam, who placed it back in a basket resembling the ones you made for him. The heartfelt gesture filled your heart with warmth.

Neteyam gently slid the woven basket closer, offering you some berries. "Eat it," he murmured softly. Without hesitation, you found the strength to chew on the sweet fruit, earning a tender kiss on your forehead from Neteyam. "You're doing so well, yawne.” You hummed, savoring his touch, you closed your eyes, needing a rest after your passionate encounter. "But you never answered my question?" he reminded, curious for your response.

You hummed, nodding your head, but Neteyam wasn't satisfied. He wanted to make sure you were okay and investigate your face. He gently held your chin, turning your head to meet his gaze. Your eyes were soft, your breathing still rapid from the intense release, but they also had a twinkle in them. "Was it too much for you, baby girl?" he whispered softly, concerned for your well-being.

Your heart fills with love and affection for Neteyam as you know he deeply cares for you. Looking into his eyes, you see the same contentment, satisfaction, and peace reflected back at you. You gently take his hand and bring it to your lips with a smile, showering kisses along his skin. "Neteyam, it was incredible. You are truly amazing," you cooed, causing the warrior to blush. "I mean every word," you whispered, feeling your eyes betray you as exhaustion washed over your body. "Not only did you create this beautiful swaynivi for me, but you also gave me multiple mind-blowing orgasms. And now you're feeding me as I fall asleep." Neteyam chuckled and planted a kiss on your unruly hair, cherishing the moment.

"It was actually 7 times," he whispered, making your heart race, realizing how much pleasure Neteyam had brought you. Your body was exhausted, and though you wanted to speak, you found comfort in snuggling closer to him, drifting off to sleep to the sound of Neteyam's murmurs. "Just wanted to make up for lost time," he whispered, his words lulling you into a peaceful slumber.'?

#neteyam x reader #neteyam imagine #neteyam x na'vi!reader #neteyam x y/n #neteyam smut #neteyam x omaticaya!reader #neteyam x you #neteyam #neteyam fanfiction #neteyam sully x reader #neteyam suli x reader #neteyam sully smut #neteyam sully imagine #neteyam sully #neteyam fluff #neteyam scenario

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daydreamsandcrashingwaves · 6 months

Text

Keeping It Close To The Chest Pt 1

Edited 12/25/23 ~~ Here's Part Two ~~

Part Three Part Four

I devoured the Damian Wayne and Danny Fenton are Twins tags and had to make something of my own to add. This is my first fanfic I've decided to post. I'm much more familiar with the DP side of things but I gave it my best shot. Hope this brings joy anyway. If I decide to post this on A03 I will have it beta'd since I made this in like four parts and then wove them together so the flow may not always be there whoopps.. but for now I just wanted to share this with all you!

TW/CW: Medical experimentation and trauma, parental abuse/neglect, wound description, blood-ectoplasm and human, death (it's danny, he's the culprit lol will apply to Jason too if I add to this), body horror (to be safe), PTSD and flashbacks, childhood trauma and abuse, dehumanization

If I missed a tag/warning please let me know! I've never been an extensive tagger so i tried real hard to get everything, but I am human and could've missed something. Much love, stay safe.

~Ren

He had to keep moving. He could still hear their screams of rage ringing in his ears. Faster, he had to be faster. His blind panic had created an opportunity, a sliver of hope Danyal was determined to twist to his advantage. He was limping forward on uncertain legs. His vision swayed with the movement, and he fought to keep upright. His chest was on fire, Danny pressed his hands tightly to the wound there in a desperate attempt to keep his organs from spilling out like confetti. He kept his arms tucked close and rounded his shoulders to try and keep his torso still while he moved quickly through the empty streets of his once home. His chest was by far injured the worst, but he had paid no mind to the others. If he dared to stop, he would fully die.

Even in his human form, Danny just knows he's leaving a glowing blood trail behind him, the ectoplasm burning into the ground behind him. Whatever side of his transformation his body was currently showing it didn't matter, he was simultaneously both, always. The trail was evidence he transformed due to necessity, he became so durable after dying that it took a lot to hurt him. Danny risked a glance down and paled further. The green he spilled as Phantom mixed with red. A fucked up corrosive bread trail right to him. He was sure he truly was in deep shit. He just had to get to his go bag. Over time with his parent's inventions getting more dangerous the more Danny had to think about putting into motion The Great Escape.

Anything important he had always kept hidden, but Danny had taken everything out of his room once he had died the second time, and Danny was grateful for the convenience to be able to phase things into walls, floors, ceilings. It made his things pretty secure; no human could find it and any ghost that came through was too focused on their obsession or fighting him to go on a treasure hunt for his hidden things.

Danny's willful ignorance of his body as he stumbles farther from FentonWorks doesn’t stop the slight burn of his ectoplasm against the edges of his wounds and the tatters of his hazmat suit pulling on the scabbing blood or the smell. Ancients the smell. It’s rancid, he hasn’t been able to cycle it properly without his normal supply of fresh ectoplasm from the Zone. Only provided in small bursts when his parents wanted to see how his body healed with and without ectoplasm. He can feel the whispers of his terror, anger, grief that’s flowing through his blood.

He had been overconfident way back when he had threatened Vlad with exposing his secret. He had thought they'd love him despite having kept his halfa status from them, he hadn't been prepared for the distrust, the hatred, the way they moved farther and farther from thought out experiments to revenge. Danny knows Maddie and Jack still see him as the quiet, shaken child so desperate to be good, craving acceptance by the eccentric family that took him in when they look at him. If Danny had to guess they had been so blinded in their rage to even realized it was their machine, their failure that made him this way. Now they really did want him dead.

He’s whole somehow, despite their best effort, he just needs time. Ancients, He’s not exactly the monster they pictured, but He's not human... He’s whole.

The thought tastes bitter and Danny strangles it before it can expand. He must be focused. Taking a measured breath Danny turns down a familiar alley, he goes intangible with a slight twinge in his core, slipping into the bathroom of Nasty Burger. He’s done this so many times the familiar path brings comfort, reassurance. Like maybe things will start to turn for the better. Making his way over to the stall Danny debated whether it was worth climbing the toilet or floating up there. No, it was better to grit his teeth and bare it. There were only three containers of ectoplasm in his bag, he needed to preserve what strength he had. He would soon have no way to access the Zone for a refill.

Danny took one hand and placed it on the wall before careful stepping up. Lifting his leg had sent waves of pain across his nerves but with a grunt he leveraged himself up. His vision went black at the edges, he was dizzy, and bile clawed at the back of his throat. Danny took a few breaths, while he might not need to breathe, he’s been human longer than not, and well.. he’s only half ghost so the habit carried over to when he's Phantom. Danny was immensely grateful for his time in the League, the training was brutal, he still has nightmares about dying the first time but.. he did learn how to survive in situations that if he was truly a Fenton, would've killed him many times over. As Danny was Danyal Al Ghul Fenton, he always had back up plans. His Mother had been heavy handed with those lessons.

It was painful to think about Talia. She had been Grandfather’s favored child and the weight of his expectations of his grandsons was enforced by her. Lessons or punishment, very rarely praise was given to Danny by his Mother's hand. Each milestone was meticulously observed and reported back, doubly so for their failures. Tiny bodies with too big of weapons, green and blue eyes, a face mirroring his own but twisted in determination, competition. His older brother, his twin. They were inseparable, until they weren't.

Danny's core throbs in his chest, he wanted to shy away from the thought, yet the inconsolable part of him screams at the injustice of being the only one to escape their Grandfather. If only Danny could've proven himself, perhaps his brother would've had a chance to leave in his stead, but Danny knows just how much he was lacking in comparison to his brother, and it was their skill, or lack thereof in Danny's case, that sealed their fates. Danny was able to avoid Ra's overseeing eyes when they moved off the failure of a Spare and homed in on his true Heir. The grandson who took to their lessons like a duck in water. Deathly beautiful, Danny used to think as he watched his brother dance and fly through his training. Talia couldn't defy Ra's orders but if she just.. misplaced.. the Spare that was abandoned, well, no one has come for him yet.

Danny knows she loved him, somewhere hidden, deep inside his Grandfather's perfect pet assassin. She loved him enough to send him away when it became clear Ra’s saw no need in the Spare that was no longer needed, she had loved him when she had beaten him and left mortal wounds-their only chance to fool Grandfather, she loved him when she had given him his packed bag and left him outside that orphanage in Chicago with lazarus water raging in his veins, and she loved him when she told him to forget.

Forget about the League her and his brother, his family.

With brief tight squeeze to his small shoulder her she told him if he was in danger to find Bruce Wayne and then Talia Al Ghul was gone and Danyal-just Danyal now- was left truly on his own for the first time ever.

Danny was definitely in danger now; his situation was grave and despite everything the pun brought a small smile to his face. He couldn’t go back home to the Fenton's. He tries to forget how he froze in his surprise when he realized his parents didn’t take his reveal as Phantom as well as they had let on. They had smiled and stalled until they had found a way to contain him. By then it was too late, he had gotten too complacent in his run on a normal life.

Only after Ancients knows how long he had been resisting, pleading, screaming-I’m still Danny, it hurts mom please, I’m still me, Dad I’m alive- did Maddie find his core. Too tired to move it away from her gaze any longer and when her fingers brushed it the wave of mind-numbing terror exploded out of him. Something must've been on her gloves because his core burned. It ripped a wail from his throat while he writhed on the table. Ice responded like it never was taken from him by the anti-ghost restraints.

Danny could still distantly feel the ghostly ice that had trapped them in place and shattered his restraints under the pressure the frozen water bursting into existence. Even trapped in his ghost ice they were steadily working on getting out and would be on the hunt for him again soon. He wouldn't allow them to catch him again.

The mere idea they’d be on their way already spurred Danny back into action. Slipping his hand into the wall he grabbed the strap and pulled his bag out, careful to keep it weightless, and slid off the toilet and back down to the floor. He hasn't seen his dagger in months, it hurt too much to practice without Dami, his other half. Here it is though, innocently tied to his bag and his gaze traced it lovingly, before searching inside the biggest pocket for his first aid kit. He didn't have time for stiches, so he reaches for the butterfly bandages and starts to pull the skin together before securing it. It's really the first proper look he gets, it's... unsettling at the very least, horrifying, to see a wound reserved for autopsies on his chest.

The Y incision is inflamed and still bleeding so he carefully follows its path until he's done. Grabbing gauze, he starts to reinforce pad, wrapping a roll of bandages around to hold everything in place. Danny bites his lip and thinks for a moment, he will need stitches, he's been wounded enough in this half-life to know that. The likelihood for his work to stay in place while he flies is less than he'd like. Making a decision and with a mental shrug he takes an ectoshot from the smaller pocket and stabbed it into his thigh before pressing the depressor. Pure energy zapped through his system hard, angerly surges to settle in his chest. Feeling a bit better but more.. wired Danny takes a second to calm. Steeling himself he tries to nudge his core, it responds in a weak pulse.

Danny's body protests, he can feel his muscles shred and reform, his bones twist like taffy, his organs melt together before settling to form his ectobody. It's all over in a flash of bright light, yet the pain felt endless. Overwhelming in its intensity but gone just as quickly as it came leaving Danny sweaty and panting. Transforming injured was tricky, he had to carefully picture where the bandages were, so he didn't lose all his hard work.

Confusion settled as a fog, clinging to his thoughts, making them murky. His hands were covered in blood, his body hurt, and he couldn't quite remember why, there was a siren coming closer. Everything in him screamed to run, to escape, but his hunters were too close now, freed from his ice to kill him fully. On instinct Danny's nails grew to claws, ripping into space to create a portal. He was weak, always had been, but he was good at running, hiding away in the shadows. Ghost was once a name of his, a proud title, not just what he is now.

Just as the doors burst open in a teal and orange blur Danny dove into the swirling green and hoped Clockwork was watching so at least someone knew things had exploded here in Amity. He hasn't needed to be on his own like this since after Jazz first saw him and demanded that her parents bring Danny home with them. He misses her now as the path out of Nasty Burger closes behind him. Danny's falling, dropping towards the ground too fast for eyes to track but his impact had definitely shaken the room. With a pained whine and a flash Danny was back to being human again, his landing had pulled at whatever scab was able to form in the twentyish minutes it took him to drag himself away from the basement. Danny was going to be sick, the sticky cool liquid that had his clothes clinging to him, was going to be very alarming when he finally could give himself a proper once over. He could feel the new bruises as he tried to roll off the pallets he had crushed.

"Oh! Someone decided to drop by! " A man called out with glee as he sauntered in his direction. "Shall we see who our special guest is?" Danny could feel the rotten soul as he got closer. Too close. Forgoing moving Danny tensed in anticipation. He was hurt, yes, but he would go down fighting. He could do that much to make his brother proud, even if he never realized Danny lived to 15 not 5. Before he could uncurl to swing at the man there was the soft sound of fabric rustling and a blade being drawn. Curling tighter Danny hoped he had enough juice to go intangible.

"You will not reach your goal Joker; Do you not get sick of trying?" The voice was smooth, deeper than he remembered but it's been 10 years, it's understandable that puberty changed his brother's voice. Danny would recognize it anywhere. Danny jinxed himself, somehow. How he ended up in the same room as the brother he hadn't seen in a decade, Danny wasn't sure. He was terrified though. Where Damian was the League and their Grandfather wasn't far behind. Damian had carefully hidden away his care as a child but would shower Danny in it in the darkness of their room. After years apart and Grandfather's continued influence Danny was uncertain how much of Damian truly remained.

There was a burst of noise, of movement and a struggle then silence covered the room. Danny's hands were shaking. "Nightwing, first aid is required inside, bring the kit." His brother paused, "No, a civilian, a metahuman if his unusually colored blood is to be taken into account."

Danny could feel his brother's scrutiny, his gaze held weight as it scanned over his collapsed form, he tried to curl more but a hand brushing his shoulder had Danny screaming and scrambling away.

Damian's hands twitched at his side, an aborted motion to draw his sword. He seemed to pause then they flew up empty, placating- it didn't bring Danny any comfort.

An assassin's greatest tool was always their hands. Green eyes tracked him, narrowing at the way Danny was shrinking into the shadows. Dread swam down his spine to settle hard in his gut. Of all the ways to meet his brother again, it had to be when he was dying, for a third time. Danny reached blindly for whatever was next to him to pull himself up, his knees wobbled precariously but he would be standing for this. He had to be. Black spots were now in his vision, but he forced a smirk onto his face. Danny was sure he was a sight to see, torn clothes, skin riddled with bruises, green and red blood splattered all over like a kindergartener's messy painting of Christmas, limp dirty hair.

Danny knows Damian is assessing him, taking in what he can see in front of him to efficiently deal with it as they were trained to do. potential strengths and weaknesses. Behind both the domino mask and his calm exterior Damian is taking in a snapshot. Danny wonders what he sees, if his brother recognizes the boy he’s grown into, Danny’s core thrums wildly and he tries not to fidget. The slight frown that pulls at Damian’s mouth means he caught the aborted motion.

"Damn, green, yellow and red... You look like a traffic light!" He gets one giggle in before he chokes on it. Danny can't breathe. His brother had gone deathly still when Danny spoke. He could see the war of emotions fighting through his brother, suspicion was quickly doused with rage. "How dare she." The Arabic was an unexpected comfort, but Danny felt confusion at the words. He's severely out of practice, he thought he understood but doubt settled in. He wasn't sure.

Damian had always stood firm next to him in the League, calm, driven and decisive, the perfect heir for their Grandfather. He was always warm to Danny though, would allow traces of his true feelings to be visible when Damian would inevitably catch Danny sneaking out of his bed to stargaze. Danny would get scolded, every time. Grandfather would punish him harshly for such indulgences, he knew it. Attachments were weaknesses and Grandfather would not grow weakness in the League, in his heirs. Danny may be weak and the Spare but he was smart. He knows what the looks of distaste meant from his Grandfather. He knew how his failures would catch up to him and how Grandfather disapproved of his influence on Damian. Yet Danny kept going back, hiding in the shadows to gaze at the stars and wait for his brother to come find him.

Danny had braced for Damian to be mad when he realizes Danny didn’t truly die that day and has stayed away from his brother, but Danny couldn’t have expected this.

Pure hatred lights up in Damian’s eyes when he finally realizes what is in front of him. It's Danny’s undoing. Everything else that has happened seemed like a cakewalk compared to being rejected by the person who had always understood him most. Ghosts are the manifestation of their emotions. Frostbite had explained once how injuries can manifest in a ghost's form on their own. Emotional pain could make them unravel down to their cores, until even that disappeared.

For Danny, there was uncertainty, halfas were so rare that there wasn’t much off hand knowledge, but Danny has always known from the second he died. There was no separation between his human and ghost halves. He just was. What fancy wrapping he showed off hardly mattered. Things bleed so easily between them, Danny Fenton and Phantom.

"I'll kill her painfully for this, but you abomination it will be swift." Damian has balanced on his toes, ready for a quick burst of speed. His sword now clenched so tightly in his hands it almost shakes.

An abomination the words looped through Danny's mind. The wounded sob that came forth when he opened his mouth to reply was unexpected. Danny took halting steps back from his twin. The hitching breath brought his attention back to his chest. This wasn't how Danny had pictured this moment, all those years of stolen daydreams. His core felt wrong in his chest. He felt cold, cold and brittle but his chest was on fire-and wet. The surgical cut seeping like its minutes fresh, this was by far Danny’s worst idea, to believe to ever hope, his brother would ever keep a monster by his side Danny was a fool to hope even for a moment-hands hands reaching for him to bring him back, grabbing his arm-

“No! I don't know! No please” Danny gasps as he flails weakly “I’m sorry I’m sorry!”

Damian hesitates again, before his resolve firms, "Danyal-" His name cracks over his brother's tongue. Danny isn't aware enough to unpack the way his brother's face twists in heartbreak the longer he watches Danny bleed. A warm body comes up behind him, blocking him in, he’s crying now, a weakness that he never could smother. "No!" Danny avoids his gaze scrambling to grip onto whatever fabric is in his hands. Danny wants the moment to last but he knows what’s coming. Damian won’t protect him now. His older brother had been steadfast by his side in their childhood, but now… now maybe it was better he’s bleeding out.

Danny vaguely registered the man behind him cutting off his shirt, kit at the ready besides him. Pressure on his wound forces a long high whine from his throat. He wants to shove it away, his hand swatting at it but he missed, and it thuds uselessly on the ground. He doesn't have the energy to try again.

The shock of a hot hand against his face brings everything into abrupt focus. Danny flinches but can’t move, the body unyielding behind him. He sees the room is covered in his frost and ice. Batman and Red Robin are farther back, their feet trapped in the ghostly ice, they had things in hand to try and hack away at the ice trapping them in place.

“Danyal” The pain in his twin's voice has him turning in that direction; his brother was there. For how well they could read each other in childhood Danny had no clue what his brother was thinking now. His twice dead brother, back to only die again at his feet. “Are you destabilizing? Why were you sent here? What does Mother want?”

“What?” Danny can’t help the laugh that bursts out of him, even if it hurts, it seems his ice kept his organs in place while he tumbled through his hastily made portal. He must've lost consciousness at some point though; his ice seems to have melted to leaving him fully exposed. “That bitch- She has nothing to do with this- wait. You think-” Danny laughs even harder until he can’t breathe and he’s hacking and spitting up more ectoplasm. He’s pulled more fully against the warm body behind him, his head lulls-oh it’s Nightwing, the blatant concern radiating from the man stings Danny’s eyes and a few tears scatter down his face.

“I’m not a clone Dami, I didn’t even know you weren’t with the League anymore." Danny's speech slurs more the harder he tries to piece sentences together, "I'm sorry I don't know how I ended up here.” Danny is growing quieter the longer he talks- can feel his life draining onto the floor and there’s panic in the air now, Batman had sprung up next to Damian's side. Seemed to say something to Damian before he retreated slightly. Batman was hovering ready to interfere but unsure in what actions needed to take place.

Damian is staring at him intently, looking to match his scars to the one's he remembers. He taps his fingers insistently on Danny's cheek and Danny doesn't fight looking back at him. The fingers linger against the scar hidden behind his hair next to his ear, traces the edges. Damian was the one to give it to him, a training error. He had looked at Danny similarly to how he was now. Fear, regret, panic. Words are being said, they blend together, warp, so Danny just hums in response. Everything is more distant now. Danny's own fear floating out of reach. He knows death intimately, he's not afraid to greet her a third time.

The words became frantic as he struggles to stay awake, and someone was talking again. “-ood to see you though- no tss okay no pain.. mma be cold soon-" Oh. That's Danny. The face he has ached to see for years fills his vision. The shade of green he could never replace. Danny was picked up and hustled out a door into the by Nightwing while a harsh discussion flew over his head. They were in some sort of vehicle now, the door shutting causes silence to blanket the group. His head is in Damian's lap, and it takes a second, but Danny realizes Damian is carting his fingers through his greasy hair. His other hand was holding Danny's, playing with his fingers like he did as children. Danny's vision fills with tears and spills down his face.

"Danyal? Can you hear me?" Damian calls his attention softly, his sweet, sweet brother tries to keep the concern out of his voice, off his face. Once he sees Danny focus on him a trembling smile makes its home on Damian's face. His domino mask is gone, Danny drinks in the unobscured view of his brother. "We'll be back to the Cave shortly, Alfred will attend to you, then you're going to tell me exactly how this happened so I can make sure it never does again." Danny can tell Damian is scared, the minute tremble in his petting only confirmed it. Danny let a smile tug at his lips too, "It's gonna be okay Dami" Danny slurred, he hears Damian insisting they were almost home.

Home with Damian. That was a fool's dream, just out of reach. Danny never indulged in the idea; he wouldn't put Dami in danger by reappearing. But- Danny was with him now, a twitch of his fingers against Damian's proves it. Danny went limp as the Batmobile skidded into the Cave, Damian was a silent statue watching Alfred take his brother away from him. Batman saddled up next to him- Damian should shower and change, whatever it was that changed his brother was making his skin itch- but he couldn't move. His baby brother was in there, dying, again.

"Damian, chum... what was all that?" Damian ignores his eyes itching as tears built, he clears his throat to report- reporting was vital with their nighttime activities, Father needed information to help Danny. He couldn't take his eyes of the little glowing red 'In Use' sign above the surgery door though.

Damian cuts a glance at the man next to him, more Bat than Father at the moment. "Once Danyal is stable, I will give you an explanation Father."

~~~~

I thought of a name, added it to the tags, I'll add a link to the next post if I write one, will tag future posts with 'Keeping It Close To The Chest' as well

much love

~Ren

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delicate-moon-princess · 2 years

Note

omg hi i was the one who asked about your masterlist , your blog looks SO PRETTY IM IN LOVE !!!! ❤️

also if your requests are open here's one from me , if not that's completely fine . For once I just want to see this big beefy bulky man losing control , like hes just full on railing the reader and the reader does not stop even after they've both come so he's very overstimulated . There's something about big dominant men shaking with pleasure im gonna go eat some grass now

Revenge

Summary: Henry is always pushing your body to the limit. So, you decide to give him a taste of his own medicine.

Pairing: Henry Cavill x Reader

Warnings: 18+ RPF, smut, unprotected p in v, overstimulation, male sub vibes, dirty talk, ball squeezing, bodily fluids, hyperspermia (it gets a little filthy hehe)- Let me know if I forgot anything!

Word Count: 1.4k

Any typos are my own!

A/N: Hi, nonnie! I’m so happy you like my blog 🥰 And thank you so much for the request! I’m stuck at home with covid and nothing to do but write so luckily I was able to get this out pretty quickly. Anywho, I present to you a very overstimulated Henry. I hope you enjoy, love you! ❤️

Your body was still buzzing after both of you had reached your climax. Henry groaned when your nails dug into his back, his hips slowing as he rode out his orgasm. Desperately, you let out a whimper and shook your head.

His cum was so hot inside of you, and it did nothing to extinguish the fire in your center. All it did was make it burn greater. You still needed more. He couldn’t stop now. No way.

“N-No, don’t stop.” You panted, trying to bring him closer when he went to pull away. “Again.”

“Again? Needy, are you?” Henry breathed, raising a brow with a grin. Although his refractory period was short, he hadn’t even pulled out of you yet. He needed a minute.

You two had been going for hours. The fact that he could make you so needy pleased him. He laughed, trying to catch his breath so he could continue

“Yes, again.” You grunted, narrowing your eyes while he grinned.

He knew the things he did to you. He knew the constant craving your body had for him. And he loved it. Sick of his triumphant smirk, you pushed him off you.

It was obvious he let you over power him. There was no other way you could have pushed him around. Henry fell onto his back beside you with a hearty laugh, watching as you moved to straddle him. He moaned when you gripped his still hard cock.

Dripping with his cum, you placed one hand over your pussy. This effectively trapped whatever threatened to escape your hole. His cum needed to be savored. You wanted him to double the load already inside you.

You slid down onto him without giving him a chance to recover. Both of you gasped. He went in nice and easy with all of his cum still inside you. You rested for a second, leaning your head back with a moan. When you looked back at him, it was your turn to smirk

“W-Wait…” He whispered, holding you still with his hands on your hips. It looked like he was still trying to recover.

“Sensitive?” You grinned impishly, earning a warning snarl in response.

Henry’s face twisted. His full lips parted and his brows furrowed. You knew he had forced the same expression on your face dozens of times before. When he kept going, despite your overstimulated body.

It was time for a little bit of revenge.

Once more, you started to grind on him with your hips. He squeezed your flesh while letting out a feeble moan. You returned his sound with your own whimper, your hands coming down to rest on his chest. Henry growled when you lightly tugged on his chest hair.

“Watch it.” He warned you, hissing through his teeth as his eyes still remained closed.

“How many times have you made me cum in one night?” You questioned him rhetorically as he groaned under his breath. The answer was a lot. “And you want to stop after just one?”

“It’s different with men.” He grunted at you, making you scoff a little.

“If you can’t handle it, just say so.” You giggled breathlessly, watching his face. His eyes snapped open at that, exactly like you thought they would.

Henry never backed down from a challenge. He lightly dug his nails into the skin of your ass as he growled.

“I can handle it.” He snarled.

Not willing to back down either, you smirked, “We’ll see. You won’t last long.”

His mouth dropped open when you clenched down onto him. Your pussy’s firm hold on him caused him to yelp. He didn’t seem so confident anymore. Although you could tell he wanted to argue, the vice grip you had on his cock prevented him from saying anything.

You began to bounce. Henry let out loud moans while laying under you. All he could do was hold onto you and let you ride him. So you rode him like your life depended on it.

He bottomed out inside of you each time you shoved yourself down onto his length. The little nubbin at the top of your slit scraped against the heated flesh of his shaft, causing you to gasp. Your walls pulsated around his throbbing dick.

By the way his jaw clenched and his eyes were pinched shut, it was obvious that all of his effort went into not cumming. However, you weren’t about to give up. He wasn’t going to outlast you.

You increased your effort tenfold. Your breasts swung back and forth as you bounced. You knew Henry would have drooled over them had he been looking.

His skin slapped against your own as you yanked yourself up and down his entire length. The loud moans you both let out almost rattled the windows.

When Henry started to shake, you knew you were winning this little battle. You slowed your hips to a grind and reached behind you to place your hand on his undercarriage. His eyes sprung open when he felt your touch on his balls.

You grinned proudly. As you gave his sack a gentle squeeze, you watched his expression. It made the big, beefy man whimper.

“Ah, fuck…” He hissed when you gave another squeeze, his back arching off the bed. He had to be aching by the way his balls swelled in your palm.

“These are just throbbing, puppy.” You cooed, teasing as your hips never stopped rolling. The nickname made a harsh tremble rip through him.

“Seems like you’re about ready to cum again. So soon, too…” Your other hand fell to his chest, grazing your thumb over his nipple. He jumped again with a low whine.

The sound only made you squeeze him again. His thighs were trembling, his muscles straining as he desperately tried not to cum. Still, he tried to outlast you. So stubborn. You knew how to break him.

Pausing for a split second, you rolled your lower half in the way you knew always made him weak. If you were being honest, it also made you weak. His tip grazed the most sensitive spot inside you repeatedly. It was enough to make you cry out loudly.

“You want to fill me up again? I can feel how bad you’re aching for it.” You gasped.

He loved it when you talked dirty with him. So you gave him filth.

“Can’t you feel all that cum still inside? Don’t you wanna bust another load in me, puppy? C’mon, do it. One more time, fill me up.” You panted, desperately trying to work both of your overstimulated bodies to climax.

Your dirty talk worked. With one loud howl, he emptied himself inside you. The sensation was enough to push you over the edge again. Your orgasm ripped through you right after his, making you fall forward onto his chest.

For the first time ever, you recovered before him. You listened to his pitiful whimpers. He shook violently under you as you slowed the winding of your hips. His hands frantically gripped at you, clinging to your form.

You looked at his face while resting your head on his shoulder. His skin dripped in sweat and brows were furrowed in what looked like pain. The mouthwatering pain of overstimulation, which he made you feel so many times before. It felt good being on the other side of the treatment.

Trailing your lips up and done his neck, you sweetly pulled him out of his orgasmic trance. Your lips softly smooched against his skin. You showed him the same affection he gave you after he worked your body to the limit.

Eventually, his heavy breathing slowed and he opened his eyes. You hummed when he groaned. He pressed his forehead against yours as he tried to recover. His breath tickled your lips, making you lazily kiss him.

“Revenge is so sweet.” You murmured with a smile, tracing his collarbone.

“You’re evil.” He huffed and chuckled as his hand rubbed your lower back.

“Yeah, but you love it.” You giggled, leaning back up.

Both of you hissed when he slipped out of you. Finally, his tender cock was able to begin softening. You stayed hovering over him for a moment, leaving your dripping pussy over his v-line.

Henry watched as his cum slipped out of you in thick dollops. He moaned when it dripped onto his flesh, looking up at you when you sighed softly.

“Look at the mess you made, puppy. Filthy boy.” You clicked your tongue, still on a power high from hearing him whine for you.

Your words made him twitch again, gearing up for yet another round. How could his body still not be satisfied? His eyes rolled back with a groan. It was going to be a long night.

A/N: I better go eat some grass after this one too 😅

Taglist: @sunshine-with-daisy @leigh70 @islacharlotte @lysarria @kebabgirl67 @pandaxnienke @identity2212 Credits: Divider- @firefly-graphics

#anon request #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill fic #henry cavill characters #henry cavill smut #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill x you #henry cavill x y/n #masterlist #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fandom

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venus-haze · 1 year

Text

Got No Reason To Run (Homelander x Supervillain!Reader)

Summary: Homelander fantasizes about you, his supervillain arch-enemy, and getting the revenge he so desperately craves.

Note: Female reader, but no other descriptors are used. This is based on some of the headcanons I wrote here. I’m definitely open to writing more of a supervillain!Reader with Homelander. This is short because it's PWP, honestly. Do not interact if you’re under 18 or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 2k

Warnings: Sexually explicit content which includes masturbation. Non-con, violence, intentional scarring, mild bloodplay, and dacryphilia in the context of a fantasy. Do not interact if you’re under 18.

Homelander’s eyes were glued to the television as soon as the story about you began to run. Rosethorn. More like a thorn in his fucking side. Ever since Vought decided to let you wreak havoc on the streets of New York because having an arch-enemy was good marketing, you were inescapable. Every interview inevitably derailed into questions about you, the Homelander Vs. Rosethorn comic series was almost out-selling his solo ones, and to make matters worse, half of the internet seemed to ship you, the marketing team bafflingly thrilled the first time #Roselander trended on Twitter.

All of those things he could reasonably deal with, but among the people who regarded you as an anti-hero rather than a supervillain, they’d developed a conspiracy theory of sorts that you were somehow as powerful as, if not more so than, him. He often seethed in rage over it. You were only alive because you were useful to Vought. At least, that’s what he told himself after the first time the two of you were face-to-face, and you spit your venom at him, burning through his costume and blistering his skin, to both of your shock. The faint scar on his arm became a point of sensitivity for him, few people had ever seen it. To him, it was a symbol of failure, but even worse, it fed into the paranoia that what your handful of supporters were saying was true.

He watched the news replay the security footage of you and your accomplices, a rotation of other, less powerful supes, robbing a bank. You could secrete incredibly potent, acidic poison through your saliva and breath at will, though most people were too scared to put up a fight and see what damage you could do to the human body. You practically skipped over to the vault, spitting on the metal door which quickly melted into twisted scrap. Your goons wasted no time in collecting the money and valuables that were then ripe for the taking.

Your gaze landed on the security camera that had caught the whole crime in action, and you grinned, staring directly at it—eyes crystal clear and haunting, as if you were looking into his soul as you stalked over like a tiger waiting to strike.

“Homelander, you can come and get me,” you said with a playful wink at the camera before disappearing in a toxic haze.

Something stirred in him at that. He grabbed the remote, playing the clip back over and over until his cock was half-hard. If he were there, that bank robbery would have gone a hell of a lot differently. He licked his lips as he thought about how he would have made his appearance, crash through the ceiling or laser through the wall—no, he would’ve walked through the doors like he owned the damn place.

He had a firm grip on his cock as he pumped the length, imagining the bank was empty and dark, after hours with no hostages in sight. You grinned at him from inside the bank vault you’d just half-obliterated. It was all a game, as usual, playing cat and mouse until you’d make your escape. Not this time.

Vought’s orders to avoid grievously harming you were endlessly frustrating, but in this instance, he was the one calling the shots. If he had his way, he’d make sure you faced the specific brand of justice a supervillain like you deserved after years of getting away with countless crimes with little more than bruises and scratches. You were too cocky, too smug. He’d be more than happy to knock you down a few notches and remind you who exactly your arch-enemy was and what he was capable of.

“Homelander, come and get me,” you repeated, voice light and airy, clueless as to what his true intentions were.

He strode across the threshold of the bank, his steps strong and purposeful as he closed the distance between you. The ensuing fight was laughably easy since he was actually trying to cause some damage, and from your place on the floor, disheveled with blood trickling from the corner of your mouth, you looked betrayed.

You attempted to push yourself off the ground, only to be met with his boot on your chest, his gaze nothing short of mean.

“Do you have any idea who the fuck I am?”

Your confused silence infuriated him.

“Answer me!” he shouted, his eyes glowing red.

“You’re—you’re The Homelander.”

“That’s right. So I don’t know who the fuck you think you are, Rosethorn, but injuring me? Scarring me? I don’t bleed. I don’t break. I sure as hell don’t scar,” he raged, droplets of spit flying in your face. “I can’t let that stand.”

“I’m sorry,” you whimpered pathetically.

He scoffed. “You can do better than that.”

“Homelander, please, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to scar you. Forgive me.”

His silence was accented with the sound of your racing heart, the blood rushing through your veins. You were terrified. Good.

“We both know you’re not sorry. You loved every second of it, didn’t you?”

“No, Homelander I didn’t–”

“I think I should return the favor.”

Your eyes widened, and you began shaking your head frantically upon realizing what he intended to do. He grabbed your arm, and his teeth broke the skin with ease, just a bit of pressure from his razor blade smile to cut you open. Your blood on his lips almost tasted sweet, at least, he imagined it would.

"Scream all you want, there’s no one to hear you," he would snarl at your weeping figure. Now you had matching scars, now you couldn’t look at yourself in the mirror without being reminded of him too. In a disturbing display of dominance and possession, he licked your open wound. You wailed. He squeezed your arm tighter. You should have been grateful he didn’t try to cauterize it himself. Finally, he released you, but this temporary freedom wouldn’t last.

“You’re a monster,” you sobbed, clutching your injured arm.

“Me? No, I’m The Homelander. I might as well be god. You? You’re only around to make me look good.”

Then he heard it, the way only he can, the sound of your spit collecting in your mouth. He grabbed you by the throat, hauling you to your feet. “Try it, and I promise I’ll take all the time in the world to kill you.”

Teary-eyed, you nodded. When he released your throat, he heard you swallow.

“Now, how to properly serve you justice for being caught red-handed robbing a bank," he mused.

“Fuck you.”

“That’s not a bad idea at all.”

The fear that would glaze over those eyes that he couldn’t get out of his mind made him jerk his hips, and he slowed how quickly he was pumping his leaking cock. He didn’t want to cum, not yet. Digging his teeth into his bottom lip, he exhaled through his nostrils, trying to ground himself.

Where was he? Fear. You were afraid of him, of what he’d do to you, as you should be. You weren’t rivals, the implication that you were as powerful as him was outright offensive. His lip curled in disdain.

He pushed you against the wall, tearing off your clothing with little effort, reveling in the way your body shook against his as it was suddenly exposed to the cool air in the vault. He reached from behind, his gloved hands feeling how wet you’d gotten. The squelch of leather squeezing into your wet pussy made him moan out loud, but in his fantasy he was in control, mocking you for being turned on and how easily he was able to fit two–no, now it was three fingers inside you.

Tears streamed down your face as you begged him to be gentle, to slow down. Your legs were shaking as you tried to stay standing despite the overstimulation from his strong fingers curling inside you and pumping in and out. He wouldn’t get exhausted, not from brutally fingering you until you were little more than a blubbering mess. You begged him to stop, to at least have some mercy and give you a break.

“What’s the matter? You told me to come and get you, and here I am,” he taunted. “Don’t think I’m even close to being done with you.”

You cried out in response, or maybe you’d just cum. It didn’t matter, this was about his pleasure. In that moment, watching you sob and struggle got his proverbial rocks off, and he turned your head to capture your lips in a messy kiss. Your mouth stayed open as your desperate protests disappeared down his throat. His tongue curled. He wanted to swallow the noise, digest it, let it sit in his stomach. A wave of pleasure rocked through him. He was close, dangerously so.

He pulled his hand from your cunt, soaked and stretched out for him. Your juices glistened on his gloves, and he broke the kiss to suck each of his fingers as you utilized the time to catch your breath, or at least try to while he gave you this short break. You’d taste perfect, and he’d lick his fingers clean, his mind almost wandering to what it’d be like to eat you out.

Instead, he unbuckled his belt, observing the way you clenched your thighs at the sound of the metal hitting the floor as he rid himself of his spandex bottoms. His hands gripped your hips tightly, and you gasped as he pulled your ass to press against his hard cock. You tried wiggling out of his grasp, and he almost laughed. Stupid girl.

“Beg me not to break you in half right now,” he ordered, his voice low and husky.

You choked out your plea through sobs. “Homelander—don’t do this—don’t—please don’t break me in half.”

“No promises.”

With that, he slammed his cock into your wet cunt, grinning to himself as your eyes squeezed shut and you clawed at the wall, a near-animalistic howl tearing from your throat. He kept a steady, unforgiving pace that made your legs finally give out on you, relying on him wrapping a strong arm around your middle to keep you up. He dipped his head down to press a kiss to your temple.

“C’mon baby, you’ve made it this far,” he purred. “Why not see this thing out to the end?”

He kissed down the side of your face, his lips lingering along your cheek and jaw, covering them in open-mouthed kisses as he moaned into your skin. Your pussy clenched around his cock, and when he glanced at the wound he’d inflicted on your arm, he gave a forceful thrust that had you reaching back to grab some part of him to hold onto.

You were his. You wanted to be his. You wouldn’t have permanently marked his skin if you didn’t. You laid claim to him first. It was only a matter of time before he reciprocated, showing you what you were really in for. Part of him wanted so badly to just kill you, but the part of him that was winning out was buried deep inside your cunt with the intention of filling you with his cum.

Briefly, his mind wandered to keeping you in the tower, maybe in his own suite, tied up pretty like a present for him to come home to at the end of each day, or maybe isolated in one of the supe containment cells where through time and pressure you’d be begging for him to use you, just to get some physical contact.

As much as he could dream, the main event beckoned him back to that bank vault he’d conjured up, his thrusts into you still strong, but more erratic, and he felt your pussy milking his cock as you came, your voice strained as you cried out his name.

Homelander, you can come and get me.

He orgasmed, and you were gone. Back to reality, just him, his hand, and the remote control he’d accidentally crushed. Fuck. He ran his clean hand through his hair, taking another look at the paused frame of you smiling in the security footage.

Maybe he would come and get you.

#homelander x reader #homelander x you #the boys x reader #the boys x you #the boys #the boys tv #the boys amazon #homelander

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cannellee · 2 months

Text

TOKYO REVENGERS OMEGAVERSE ☆

୨୧ alpha! draken x omega! reader x omega! emma

— you and emma are both dating and you try everything to court your crush, draken.

cw : reader and emma are flirty ++, the ending is bad

my masterlist: ☆

you and emma were the oh so coveted omega couple of the town. so unusual for two fragile things like you to actually turn to another omega rather than an alpha who can properly take care of you.

but whatever people could think about the stability of your relationship, the both of you were a happy little pair who wanted nothing more than to stay together.

you thought that none of you would ever come to crave the touch of an alpha, to try and attract one. but here you were, desperately looking for the tall man working at his bike shop.

you met him at emma's house, he's a friend of her brother and comes rather regularly. still, emma never actually took the time to properly talk with him so she didn't really knew what he was like.

but a few weeks prior, when you were waiting for emma to get dressed, draken offered to escort the both of you to your destination. his eyes were filled with nothing but genuine concern and you found the three of you enjoying the conversation upon your walk there.

kind, strong, reliable and respectful. draken was definitely a change. not that you or emma was getting tired of your relationship, but your love was big enough to be shared with an extra person.

you didn't need to have a serious talk together, your mind and desires were so in tunes you knew exactly what the other was thinking. you thought having an alpha by your side wasn't so bad after all.

so you spent most of your days courting him. it was subtle, more like attempts at being friendly and appearing small in hopes to spark his protective instincts.

unexpectedly, draken was hard to get. the lovely mixture of both your vanilla scent and emma's honey one usually made people stop in their tracks and whip their heads into your direction. but draken remained stoic, never flinching when your chest brushed against his big arm just a little too close and emma's hand lingered a while longer on his biceps.

so you decided you had to take things further and got even bolder.

you once mindlessly 'forgot' your sweater over when you had to give him the homework he had missed the day before. your scent was sure to be spreading inside his whole room if he didn't throw it out. but he gave it to you the next day, clothe neatly folded in a bag as if your serious courting gift didn't happen. similarly, emma and you would bake a few of your favourite treats, showing off your cooking skills and handing it to him in a pretty box all cutely tied up with pink ribbons and glitters. he ate all of it and thanked you with a neutral smile, not even hinting that he might be just a tiny bit interested.

draken's self control was insane, making you actually question if he was an alpha for how little response he showed when you nearly drowned him in your sugary sweet pheromones. you swore you once saw his eyebrows twitch but you couldn't say anything else as he left you there right after.

you were so upset he wasn't responding accordingly and emma felt as frustrated as you. "what the hell is so disgusting about us that he won't even look our way", she huffed, cuddling closer to you in your nest, feeling vexed at his lack of reaction.

"don't say that emma! I'm sure with a little more time he'll finally give in", she looked at you unconvinced, but didn't say anything, preferring to let you stay optimistic about it.

and how right you were. it has only been two weeks of intensive courting and draken's patience was running thin. he didn't know how to feel, he didn't know how to react, but most importantly, he didn't know if you were aware of how unusually tempting the both of you were being.

draken knew you were dating, and he respected that. he opted for the role of a guard dog, chasing away people who thought you were easy preys and a real walking fantasy.

draken would've lied if he said seeing his two omega friends so close to him and giving him extra attention didn't flatter him. it made him soften up more than he'd like to admit.

he'd taken the habit of buying you guys food and sweets along with pastries, he had your tastes figured out and couldn't help but worry about whether you took care of yourselves properly.

he knew that was probably disrespectful and he didn't want any of you to know how he felt. he wanted to preserve that precious friendship and for you not to associate him with those lust-driven alphas.

when you invited him over to your house in one ultimate attempt to make him crumble, draken thought he was going to explode.

you guided him inside your nest room, forced him down next to the blankets and plushies – which you drowned in your scents a few minutes before – and proceeded to sit next to him on each side.

you settled on watching a movie after all but begging draken to actually stay over even if your little plumbing problem had been solved by him soon after he arrived. he gulped as he watched the two of you reach for the popcorn bowl you put in his lap, bending over each time you reached for a fist of your favourite treat.

draken kept growing hotter with each passing minutes as, weirdly, problems after problems seemed to arise. first, you mysteriously cut yourself, "draken, my finger hurts a lot. I think you should kiss it better". and emma watches with an amused smile how the big man softly treats your tiny wound, gently blowing on it after putting a bandage on it.

draken feels himself lose his patience even more after emma undresses herself, claiming it's always too hot when there are multiple people in the nest. removing her sweater, she's left with nothing but a tight top which barely covers her tits.

draken's scent is getting stronger and you take that as your first little victory as he always was so composed. you turn to emma who gives you a knowing look and you both agree to try something else. you were ready to risk it all, draken was either gonna accept your courting or your friendship was over !

"draken..." you start, "don't you like us?" the question came out more hesitantly than you expected and you waited for his response.

"... what?" he looks at you with visible confusion.

"oh come on, don't tell us you didn't notice how serious it was for us. it's like you don't even care" the annoyance in emma's voice is quickly replaced by hurt, her omega growing sadder at the rejection of her alpha.

draken felt himself panicking, almost clueless until he finally connects the dots. no wonder you were so clingy and acted this cute with him.

draken didn't know how to feel about having your full attention on him, but your little confession had him weak in the knees.

draken wasn't usually one to be this dumb about such topics. he'd say he's actually rather observant. but your attachment to him had totally been misunderstood, thinking you just liked him as a friend. he had forced himself to the point he tried to keep his distance with you because he didn't want to be a homewrecker, even with how his instincts nearly killed him each time he had to watch you close your door leaving him outside when all he wanted was to join you and take care of you like you deserved.

after the initial confusion, draken was ecstatic, like he had finally accomplished his utmost dream.

"if you don't like us courting you, just say it !"

"w-what? oh no, please don't believe that", he quickly denied your accusations, "I just didn't catch on it, I thought you liked me but not like..."

emma huffed, angry that draken was so slow. he noted both of your frustration and made it his priority to appease you.

"I'm sorry. i didn't mean to upset you. and I... really love you"

god, it felt like a weight had been lifted off of your shoulders. you looked at emma's sparkling eyes, your own scent growing sweeter by the joy you felt.

you took that as his permission to cuddle so you shimmied closer to him, strong arms falling on the both of you, shielding you like never before.

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itsalwaysteatimeinwonderland · 2 months

Text

Hope (Spike x y/n)

Requested: No

TW: none

Word count: 2.3k

Previous | Next

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He felt horrible. Destroyed. Lesser than what he wanted to be. He continued to hurt himself by making bad choices. Choices that he knew were detrimental to him. Never good enough for others, he was doomed to not be good enough for himself.

Spike walked the cemetery looking for trouble. A vampire or demon to entertain him, that’s all he needed. Soon he would find no one to entertain his self-destruction.

"Bloody slayer, doin' her job.” He moped at the loss of companionship.

He desperately wanted to visit y/n but he knew he had no business there. She wanted to rest and he wanted to not be reminded of his worthlessness. If only he was enough or more, he could prove to her that he deserved to be by her side. To be hers. However, he still craves violence and destruction. He reminds himself that if the chip wasn't in place that he would choose to kill for fun. And she knew that, which made him lesser than what she deserved.

He hoped Buffy was hurt or low so that she could take her frustration out on him. Make him feel the pain. The only thing that he deserved.

He continues to wander and ends up in town looking for something to do. What can a chipped vampire do in a hellmouth? He hates it when he finds himself walking down y/n's street. He was attracted to her like a moth to a flame. He gave in and gave up. If Buffy brought him pain, y/n brought him peace. Even when he didn't deserve it, he craved it.

As he walks up to y/n's house his attention is caught by the overwhelming stench of werewolf. Again, she was seeing that damned werewolf. What did she see in him? Why did she choose him, when Spike was right there, ready, and willing? He can hear the rustle of bedsheets from the open window. Lustful sighs and laughter. All things that he will never have.

He waited outside on the porch. Heated. Angry. Hurt. He was going to catch this werewolf and... what? Hurt him? Threaten him? In every scenario y/n would scold him. But he didn't give a damn. He was blinded by passion and revenge.

Hours passed but he waited patiently until the front door opened. It was Matteo. Spike's blood boiled but he stood, frozen, speechless. He simply gave Matteo a head nod as Matteo walked away from the house. Spike caught the door before it closed. He refused to knock to let y/n know he was there. He wanted to catch her red handed, satiated and vulnerable. All the feelings that he wanted to make her feel.

He walked into your bedroom and sat on the bed. The scene of the crime. You were showering so he waited. When you came out in a towel you gasped.

"Spike!"

"Somethin' wrong, love?" He played it cool.

He could sense her nervousness. He breathed in her panic.

"What are you doing here? I didn't hear you knock." You scrambled to get clothes.

"That's cause I didn' knock."

You stand there in a towel, clothes in hand. You decide it’s best to go back to the bathroom to change. Spike is aware of your dilemma.

"Don't let me stop you." He grins.

"Just turn around." You sigh giving up.

He does as you ask. He feels giddy knowing that your naked body was mere feet away from him. How he longed to look. But he was a gentleman and respected your wishes.

"Done" he turns back around.

"Havin' fun, are we?"

You stammer looking for the right answer. "A girl has needs."

He stood up and moved faster than you expected. He put his hand on your hip and pulled you to him. Bodies flushed together. You could feel every inch of him. His other hand trailed your face with the back of his hand.

"If your needs were bein’ neglected, why didn' you come to me?" He was feeling bold, brash.

You forget to breathe. Your head is spinning. You remind yourself to take it slow. To think before reacting, but your body betrays you and your thoughts go haywire.

You wrap your arms around his neck, settling into his hold. Feeling the comfort of his body.

"You know why..." was all you said. It was enough for Spike to falter, to almost loosen his grip. He steadies himself and holds you tighter, hoping you feel his resolve.

"It could be different." He tries.

"We're too far apart." You hold your ground.

"Let's close the gap, then." He insists.

You both stay as you are, staring into each other’s eyes. Fighting a lost battle. Too much is at stake and there's not enough space for mistakes.

His eyes beg you to reconsider, but your resolve never waivers. He has so much to say but not enough words. How to ask for you to choose him when he couldn't even choose himself?

"What would it take?" He was determined.

You faltered. What would it take? You hold your silence, mulling the question over. Spike grew impatient, afraid.

Spike sighs, defeated. He lets go of your body, putting distance between you two.

You stand there in ruins. You could have it all but at what cost. You were not meant to be loved. And he wasn't mean to be good. If these two situations were to dissipate, the difference it would make. You wondered if this change would bring you peace and break the curse. You didn't dare entertain the idea.

You both stood silent, waiting for the other to speak first. The seconds felt like hours.

"Want to dance?" You cave.

He looks up at you. He wondered if that was all you were capable of giving him. He wonders if that was all he could have. He assents.

You find a slow song playlist. Something smooth and personal.

"No waltz tonight, pet?" He smiles softly.

You shake your head. You wanted him to hold you.

You lay your head on his chest, while he wraps his arms around you. The proximity was killing him. He has you so close and yet you were so far away from his grasp.

The music plays softly as your bodies sway. Spike makes sure to memorize every second of your time together. He may not have you forever but he has you right now, and that is pure bliss.

A knock is heard on the bedroom door. You both are startled but don't break contact.

Matteo stood at the doorway, annoyed. At the sight of him you let go of Spike and straighten yourself. Spike smiles smugly at him.

"Matteo... what's wrong?"

"I left my phone." He points to it on your nightstand.

You stand there as he gets his phone, walking past Spike who refused to move. You swear you hear Matteo growl lowly, but you brush it off.

"Sorry to interrupt." He squares up to Spike and walks out of the room.

You palm your face out of embarrassment.

"What's wrong with your boyfriend?" Spike asks, still smug.

"He's not my boyfriend."

"Sorry, your lover." Spike spoke the last word through gritted teeth.

"Not that either." You busy yourself by making the bed.

"What would you call him, then?" He laid down on the bed impeding you from completing your task.

You sigh in frustration, "what do you call Buffy?" You bite back.

"By her name." He smiles his shit eating grin.

You look at him. You remind yourself to breathe. This man was going to be the end of you on so many levels. You walk out of the room into the kitchen. He follows you to the kitchen.

"Worked ourselves an appetite, did we?" Spike was still grinning, sitting on your counter.

You turn to him thinking of ways to shut him up, to catch him off guard. The only thought in your head was how badly you wanted to taste his words, to kiss him senseless. That, in itself, would bring more trouble and confusion than just sending him away. You're passion quickly turns bitter as you remember his choices.

"Don't you have a slayer to take care of?" You insinuate.

"That's why I’m here." Spike is feeling flirty and needy. Tonight was not a night for Buffy. Tonight he had to prove that he was the only one in y/n's life. Tonight, Matteo had your body but Spike had your heart.

You sigh. "I can't keep doing this with you." You turn to him, defeated.

He's caught off guard by your confession. He stutters and fails to find something to say. What did you mean by that? Was this you pushing him away? Anger bubbles in his stomach.

"But you can with that werewolf?" Spike said venomously.

"I already told you, he's a distraction. Just like the others, he has an expiration date."

"Others?!" Spike raises his voice.

"What do you want from me? I have needs. I can't just settle down. Not while I’m cursed."

"Am I not good enough? Am I too beneath you?" Spike was closer to you, closing the gap.

"What? No. It's just... you're different." You waiver.

"Different. You mean evil."

You raise your chin in defiance. Who was he to be questioning your choices.

"You're being quite bold for someone who is openly fucking someone else."

He's incredulous.

"You want something with me but not enough to let Buffy go. You don't want me. You want what you can't have." You spit out, angry and hurt.

"Is that what you think? That I’m only here because you're unreachable?"

"Why else would you not commit? Why else would you play with me, make me feel?"

He scoffs. In some level she was right. He couldn't let go of Buffy. He needed the punishment, the constant reminder he was only dirt. But he craved y/n because she brought him hope. He needed to feel the light even when he hadn’t earned it. But he wasn't ready to admit all of this to himself. He wanted to be selfish. To move through two worlds, to be balanced. To feel.

"I've heard enough." He states.

"So, what now?" You were determined, you needed closure.

"Keep your werewolf. Live in your fantasy. You want to find peace so bad but you're too busy escaping what you have." He told the truth, unafraid of the repercussions.

Before you could provide a rebuttal he stepped away and went for the door.

"You want to feel something so bad but you're too busy punishing yourself." You yelled after him, wanting the last word.

You hear the door slam. He's gone. You feel tears roll down your face. A thousand years and you had never cried for man. You stand there feeling sorry for yourself. Hating how things ended.

Spike storms down to his crypt. Angry and hurt. He made the first move, and he was shot down. What else did he think was going to happen? He wanted to be bold and flirty in the hopes you would reciprocate but it blew up in his face, just like he deserved. Pain through Buffy and pain through y/n, just desserts. He knew better but he needed something, anything to hold onto hope. This just proved that he wasn't good enough. He didn't deserve the light, the hope, the love. At least, not as he is now. Soulless and evil. He is reminded that the chip was the only thing keeping him in your world. He could never be the key to your curse but he wanted to be your respite, your companion. He dreamed of that much. He was but half a man and half a vampire. He craved to be whole but that would mean a sacrifice.

He enters his crypt in a haste. He quickly picks up after himself, determined to leave and find what he’s looking for. Buffy busts through the door. Focused and wanting. She throws herself on Spike. Rough kisses and wandering hands. Spike is unresponsive, holding his ground. He feared the repercussions of his choice, but if he wanted more for himself he would have to sacrifice immediate gratification.

"What?" Buffy spit out disdainfully.

"Not tonight, love." He pries himself from her grasp.

He fears a fight will break out. He is ready to endure her rage.

Enraged, she pushes him away. “What? Too caught up on y/n?

He’s taken aback. He refuses to answer. Buffy gets closer, menacingly.

“You keep dreaming of her as if you deserved her. You’re nothing to her, like you’re nothing to me.”

Spike stands his ground, tears burning in his eyes.

Buffy gives up and walks away. "Don't expect me to come back."

Buffy exits the crypt leaving Spike alone with his thoughts. He is glad that there was no physical altercation but can’t help but feel beat down and bruised.

"Fuck..." he mumbled under his breath.

Alone by force and alone by choice. He felt like he couldn’t catch a break. So many thoughts and none conducive to an answer or solution. Spike stood frozen, afraid. He knew what would get him to the person of his desire. However, was he strong enough to conquer his own demons? Was he strong enough to become who he wanted to be? He pondered this as he wrote a quick note to y/n. He needed answers. He needed to re-inhabit his body. No more dancing on the edge of pain and punishment. No more lust and violence. If he wanted an answer from you, the answer he craved, he had to give up the chains that kept him drowning in an ocean of despair.

He got on his motorcycle and drove to your house. He dropped off the note in your mailbox and drove off.

He hoped that you would read the note. He hoped you would wait for him. He hoped.

#buffy the vampire slayer #william the bloody #btvs #spike #spike btvs #buffyverse #spike the bloody #spike x y/n #spike x yn #spike x reader #spike x you

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chuuyaswifeandhoe · 3 months

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If only

Pairing: Chuuya x femreader Warnings: swearing, mention of suicide attempts, language, hated, gunshots, death, mentions of killing, violence This is the second part of Not today. Enjoy!

Wake up, survive, kill, sleep, repeat. Wake up, exist, betray, sleep, repeat. Wake up, get yourself almost killed, sleep, repeat. Wake up, die.

One year and a half has passed since Chuuya decided that you didn't have any value for him. You decided to celebrate it at the old apartment, exactly where it happened, so you would not forget why you're still alive. Revenge. No, you laughed at the flickers of the candles around the living room. Revenge was too kind for him. You wanted to make him hate himself. To feel useless, used, an incapable body having to survive with the consequences of his own actions. That's what you had been doing for the last year so he had to go through it for the rest of his life. Seemed only fair, an eye for an eye, a broken soul for another one. Even better, a broken soul to crush another. You blame yourself for the break up. If only you wouldn't have opened the discussion about marriage and kids. If only you would have been happy with the situation you were in, not craving for more, not wanting more from life, maybe he wouldn't have said those words to you. If only you would have acted differently. If only you would have changed to suit him better. If only…

You sipped another gulp from the expensive bottle of wine, his courtesy when he left you the apartment. No need to cry over spilled milk. Still, tears fell down your cheeks without warning. It stung, it is not like you could get rid of the feelings of betrayal and disappointment. In the dim lights of the candles you let yourself feel human again. It was a long year for you, one where you made permanent changes in your life. No more good girl behavior. Only a cruel bitch without a heart. One of the most interesting evolutions within the Mafia. That's what they called you. You had your underground name as well, Shadow. The one who kills her victims in their sleep, walking right behind you, living in the dark, never knowing when is going to hit. People don't fear their own shadows, so you took advantage of that. Befriending the target, using your innocence to make them trust you then slashing their heart in the sheets. Literally.

You sighed, he should be back in two days. You found out after joining that the executive was sent on a suicide mission, having no communication with the outside world. A mission that has been extended longer than anyone anticipated. But everyone trusted him to accomplish the impossible and come back alive and successful, destroying some gangs, scoring some diamond deals, and bringing back the prize of the rarest diamond in the world. Easy, for the most powerful ability user in the Mafia. Not so easy to understand why he acted like that more than a year ago. You saw the reasoning behind it, but still, there were other options if he wanted to protect you. You shake your head, no, he did not want to protect you, he wanted to get rid of you.

In retrospect, he tried to protect you after his departure, after the breakup. You were desperate, you wanted to turn off your feelings so bad, everything hurt. In a desperate attempt, a message was sent to Dazai if his offer for the double suicide was still up. But he expected the message when he met you on the roof of the building his scope was to get you down, to hold you, and to make sure you didn't do it. What an ass, Chuuya informed him and knew already you'd try to kill yourself. “Bella, is not worthy, I promise you I'd take your offer under other circumstances, but now I know for sure that is going to get better.”

After that night you laid out your options on a piece of paper. The first was to get over with this life. Not an option anymore, Dazai did not help you and suddenly members of the agency bumped randomly into you at the grocery store. Atsushi wanted to accompany you and Yosano wanted to go shopping. Nice of them but it was making you feel worse. You wanted to root under a rock. Fragile. You felt fragile, ready to break if someone looked at you the wrong way. You wanted to move out of the apartment, but couldn't, you were between jobs and you were in no shape to start looking for one. To put on a fake smiling face… no. And ironically after three weeks, a position was available at the agency, for a secretary. What a lovely coincidence. And for a bit you even considered it, to have them around wasn't a bad idea after all and would also comply with Chuuya's demand to never get in his face again. But then, after the “interview”, while at the caffè, Atsushi -bless his innocent heart- left out a secret in his blabbering “Chuuya must really love you Y/N-san, kneeling to ask the president for the Agency to protect you”. He received a smack over his head from Kyoka and you acted like you did not hear him, but it was the moment you decided you weren't going to take the job at the agency.

Bastard. Thinking he can control your life after breaking you like that. To make sure you were having a good life, that you would be under Dazai’s careful eye. The second option was to move back to your village, back with your not-so-close family. Not really an option, but more a desperate attempt to get the attention off the agony present in your life. And you tried it, with a short visit, wanting to understand if it would do you any good. But at the news that you and Chuuya broke up, your family started blaming you and accused you of being such a stuck-up bitch. Everything good about you was your relationship with Chuuya and you screwed everything up and your life did not have any value anymore. And maybe, to a certain extent, you started to believe it. So after that weekend, you got back, having to deal with life again.

The next option was to just get on with your life. Going out, dating, meeting new people, living again. Well, you got yourself somehow functioning in those six weeks before deciding that there was a fourth option that was more suitable. You tried looking for other jobs, and you got yourself on two random blind dates which were absolutely horrible, but a friend of yours decided it was a good idea to get you out of your slumber so you accepted. You decided you were going to be single forever because there was no way you were going to deal with all that. And you also wanted revenge and when the opportunity arose, you went straight for it.

The fourth option you never envisioned or dreamed of. Joining the Mafia. A friend, of a friend, of another friend found out from some underground source about a recruitment process going on so you decided to join. You started preparing for it, hitting the gym and having shooting training on Chuuya’s money, because if he left you the card you might as well use it. One of your biggest qualities was the attention to detail and to anyone’s surprise shooting a gun. You remember the ‘basic training’ Chuuya gave you after telling you about his job so you could shoot a gun if you ever needed to protect yourself and he was amazed by your skills to not miss any of the targets he put in place. So, until the recruitment stage came around you trained. It was not like you had any better to do, apart from moping around in your sadness.

You started as a weakling, a mere nobody. No particular skill, apart from a good aim. The rest was hard work, broken bones, lots of cuts and bruises, not getting in your own way, being in constant fear for your life, and learning to kill. The first time was the hardest. Then you went on autopilot. No regrets, no remorse, no feelings. Exactly what you were looking for, a way to numb out your heart. No more worrying about a lover, a relationship, a breakup, or a future. Then, it was a question of being in the right place at the right time and saving Mori’s life in an altercation. The boss rarely participated in those things, but there were times he wanted to feel the thrill of fear and descend into the dirty underground. Obviously, some Black Lizard mission you were involved in by accident, but they did not fully clear the perimeter and a sniper got away.

You were feeling very suspicious about the whole deal, it was intuition, and you just knew something was wrong. Luckily, you saw the red dot on Mori’s chest, had enough balls to push him aside, and got yourself two beautiful bullets in your chest. You survived and got the permission to have one wish granted. You could ask whatever you want. You thanked your new direct Boss and asked him to keep this for the future when you would find a wish worthy of the occasion. You got yourself noticed, what weakling would dare touch the Boss in such a manner? So you started to be involved in more high-profiling missions. You received special training from the Black Lizards, transforming you into one of the finest assassins the Mafia had at its disposal. A killing machine, who did not ask twice about the victim, just got the job done. ‘’No hard feelings’’ was the last phrase every one of your victims heard. And your way of doing your job was very interesting to Mori. Approaching the targets in plain sight, gaining their trust in so little time, then breaking it when killing them. Every one of your missions seemed like a personal revenge you took. And Mori was definitely pleased, his mind coming up with different plans on how he could use his new pawn.

How ironic everything seemed to you. To be in front of the man Chuuya was trying to protect you from. Saving said man with your own life and getting your hands dirty just like him. Definitely, he did not expect his plan to backfire like that. You were dying to see his reaction when he would find out. Well, you will not be there, probably, as you were set to have some solo missions, which started exactly the day he was going to return. You were grateful, it would give you a bit more time. For what? You didn’t know. But you did not feel ready to see him again. Well, it was something you’ll worry about another day, now, you let yourself cry, be desperate again, and hope for the release of death. Tomorrow, you’ll get your knives and guns attached to you again.

The days rolled around and you departed to your new series of missions first thing in the morning. Little did you know that at the same time, in Mori’s office, a meeting regarding your future was happening.

‘’Chuuya-kun, as always your results are impeccable. You’ll get days off until your new partner will return from her missions’’.

Chuuya raised an eyebrow. He was tired and done with it all. But he definitely did not expect to have a new partner upon his return. He liked his solo missions and did not want to have to carry someone’s slack around. But he had little to no energy to fight. He just wanted to get in contact with Dazai right now and ask about her. His mind was only about her and how to make things right again, in case she did not move on.

‘’Thank you and who is her?’’

‘’ Her name is Shadow’’.

#chuuya x reader #bsd x reader #chuuya nakahara x reader #chuuyaswifeandhoe #angst #chuuya x you #chuuya angst #bsd chuuya #chuuyaswife #bungo stray dogs #imagine #plotwist

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nyctoaerah · 1 month

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𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋

“𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐀𝐌𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐀 𝐈𝐓𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐅”

╰┈➤𝐒𝐘𝐏𝐍𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐒: Who would've known that the man you spent a night with was the very same man that you're planning to kill? It was a cruel twist of fate, cause as you spent more time with him, you found yourself growing attached-inlove even. But, you ended up knowing the truth about suguru’s death, and the thirst for justice and redemption for Suguru consumed you. The pursuit of absolution drove you to consider any means necessary, even if it meant risking your own well-being, your sanity, your very essence. You were willing to sacrifice everything just to obtain the revenge you so desperately craved, even going as far as to ignore your feelings for Satoru. After all, it doesn't really matter, because Gojo Satoru was yours, he was yours to play with, he was yours to manipulate, and yours to kill, and he’s not complaining about it.

╰┈➤𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: suggestive themes, racism towards non-sorcerers, aftermath of one-night-stand

╰┈➤𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: Yandere! Gojo Satoru x Fem! Op! Assassin! Suguru's adopted daughter! Reader

╰┈➤𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: This story is the revamped version of my previous fic “Devil in Disguise” it has the same plot, but this one just has a better story flow in my point of view;) also available in Wattpad and Quotev! Hearts and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

Masterlist

Previous chapter

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍𝐄

━━𝐃𝐄𝐂𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝟐𝟕 𝟐𝟎𝟏𝟕

YOU STIRRED INTO CONSCIOUSNESS as the sunlight caressed your bare skin, rousing your sluggish body from slumbering. Your body felt sore for some reasons, especially your thighs, but you didn’t mind it that much.

Lifting your chin, your eyes fluttered open to take in an ornate chamber paneled in gleaming ivory, its lofty ceiling adorned by a glittering chandelier.

Beneath the sheets, your flesh prickled with awareness of your half-nudity yet also a lingering heat that suffused your pore, recalling the fevered embrace of the previous night.

Lavish scents assaulted your senses—the heady perfume of jasmine mingling with masculine musk. Disoriented, you blinked away the veil of slumber, gazing about in a daze.

Slowly pushing up onto your elbows, your mind awakened in fragments—an argument with your sisters, you going on a club, getting drugged.. And him.

Satoru.

You shuddered as sensations washed over your body, recalling his touch last night. The ghost of his kisses lingered on your skin, tingling your thighs, stomach and lips. Merely remembering elicited a renewed flush of heat that spread from your cheeks down your neck.

While you bore no regrets, uncertainty nagged at you. How had you measured up to his experienced caresses? Fragments were all that remained—his worship of your flesh, Thrilling pinpricks rose goose bumps where his adulating mouth had bade your body ignite with each kiss and nibble. The feel of his mouth exploring your private places, his hands grasping your hips to pull you ever closer.

The taste of strawberries on his tongue, lips tracing ardent paths across your skin and literally everything.

Drawn back to wakefulness by such vivid recollections, you became aware of your state— lightly clad in merely underclothing, fastenings loosened—not in the way you would put it on.

A question appeared on your head.

Was he the one who dressed you up? Your Fingertips rose to trace the marks left on your skin, purpling love-bites grip of grasping fingers on your thigh, and some bite marks.

You would’ve frowned until you remembered that you gave him the permission to leave marks.

Something you shouldn’t have done, probably, because it’s probably gonna be hard to hide.

Though sated, You can’t help but wonder, You knew that you sucked at these kind of things, and you wanted something, not repetition but rather clarification.

Had you pleased him fully as he had so fully worshiped you?

“Stop thinking about that.. s’just a one-night stand..”

you mumble as you pressed your palm to your brow, despising how your mind stubbornly clings to the stupid memories.

“Stupid hormones...”

On unsteady feet, you got off the bed and padded the plush floor, surveying the place to find your clothing. Finding nothing, your gaze wandered the opulent interior, committing each exquisite feature to memory—slate and marble, gilt and glass conspiring in sensuous splendor.

Steeling your shaking sinews, you reached for the door, cool metal kissing your fevered skin. Light assaulted you and you winced as you peered into it.

You blinked slowly as you took in your unfamiliar surroundings. An ornate foyer stretched above you, Fresh flowers accented various surfaces, their sweet perfume. Rolling your aching head gingerly from side to side, you sought some clue as to your location amid the opulence, but alas, everything remained hazy and indistinct.

Stupid fucking hangovers. You thought as you went towards the stairs.

Struggling to balance yourself, a wave of dizziness and nausea overcame you, your stomach roiling in protest. Clammy-palmed, you steadied yourself against the polished balustrade as you walked down, letting the smooth stairs guide your unsteady steps.

When you were finally down, you felt mortified as you realized that you’re half naked. Fuck, you forgot.

Maybe you should go back on the room? You hesitated, not really wanting to walk around half naked.

Just then, a familiar voice cut through your distressed haze.

“Oh, you’re awake.”

You knew that voice—it belonged to Satoru. Squaring your shoulders to muster what shreds of dignity you could, you turned to face him. His hair was damp, a towel draped across his shoulders, below which his torso was similarly bare. Meeting his eyes, you asked the inevitable question to break the awkward silence.

“Oh...uhm...where are my clothes?”

“Oh, I still haven’t finished washing it. You puked on it yesterday.” Satoru mentioned nonchalantly, causing your eyes to widen as the recollection of your vomit soaking the fine silk assaulted your senses once more, filling you with even more shame.

You forgot, you really did vomited on the poor dress when you arrived here.

“You don’t have to wash it, y’know...” You mumble sheepishly.

“Hmm, nope, i’ll wash it. That dress is pretty on you, it looks exquisitely nice to rip it off your body though, but it’s still nice.”

Your face flushed in embarrassment at his bluntness.

Your face flushed at his blunt candor, a fierce heat swelling within your cheeks. Crimson-tinged and agitated, you averted your eyes from him.

Fuck, you’re not used to people telling you such things.

“I-i can do it myself , you don’t have to do it. I don’t wanna be a burden.” you responded, shaking your head in embarrassment , not wanting to impose. You’ve already embarrassed yourself last night, probably , and now you would have him wash your fucking dress?

Satoru chuckled in response. “No, it's alright. I insist on doing it.”

His persistence made your brows draw together

“I don’t wanna be a burden,” you firmly stated jaw set slightly, causing him to roll his eyes, and place a hand on his hip sassily.

“I can do it promise. I kinda ruined it too, so seems fair for me to do it, hm?” He drawls.

“No fair,” You shot him a playful glare.

“Well, life isn’t fair, princess.”

“Just give me the dress, i’ll clean it—”

You began only to be cut off.

“Nuh uh. I’m cleanin’ that. No more arguments.” He said. Your eye twitched at that, yet it somehow made your stomach flutter a bit, from some reason you didn’t knew.

“Anywayss, You should also consider taking a bath, you know?” he murmured softly, sky blue eyes fixed on the ceiling, deliberately avoiding eye contact.

Your face fell. Shit, do you smell bad? As if sensing your doubt, Satoru began to elucidate.

“Don’t worry, i cleaned you up yesterday, made sure to clean everything! But still, I’m sure you'd like a bath too... to ease your er.. sore muscles..”

He said, a cordial smile on his lips.

“I like aftercare, after all, so you don’t have to worry about you smelling like....” he said, twisting the damp towel between deft fingers. A roguish smirk curled his lips. Your gaze traced the lean lines of his form outlined by the thin fabric, lingering on his corded neck.

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence, Satoru.”

“I meant sweat. Pervert. You’re thinking about something else, aren’t you?” He giggled.

“Heh? You didn’t expect that, did you?” he crooned, idly twining a damp lock around his finger like a school girl getting approached by their crush.

Speech evaded you, your thoughts scattered like leaves before an autumn gale in embarrassment.

He fixated you with an intense gaze, his blue eyes seeming to appraise your every subtle movement and reaction. A sly smirk tugged at the corners of his lips.

“Hm? Why are you staring at me like that?” he questioned with feigned innocence, though his teasing tone implied far more clandestine intentions.

You blinked, brows twitching slightly.

“I didn't knew that you’re such a pervert, princess. now you’re making me all shy.”

Satoru giggled, his words a contrast to his obvious actions again. In no way was he shy, he was shameless after all.

Satoru Gojo has no shame after all.

You struggled to collect your frazzled thoughts.

“I’m uh, staring at the ceiling, you’re just tall so it looks like i’m staring at you.” you replied lamely, cursing your inability to formulate a wittier response internally.

He released a throaty chuckle, clearly unconvinced by your flimsy excuse.

“Yeah, yeah, you gotta take a bath now, let’s yap later after you finished taking a bath, yeah?” His lascivious grin remained firmly in place.

Your cheeks burned anew as you realized your sorry state.

“Er.. i don’t have clothes... My dress is already.. you know...”

The words scratched painfully in your parched throat as you crossed your arms tightly over your exposed torso

“Mhmm. Don’t worry princess.” He hums.

“You can borrow some of mine, i think i have smaller ones” Satoru shifts his gaze towards a door.

“I’ll get it for you, yeah? Just wait f’me.”

Without delay, he strode from the room with purposeful steps.

Finally.

You exhaled a slow, lengthy breath, letting your tingling fingers trace delicate trails across your scalp as the heat of mortification warmed your cheeks once again, out of embarrassment and sheepishness.

You didn’t expected him to be this caring, cause he’s giving the fuck boy vibes—plus you’re a total stranger in here too.

Maybe he does this to other girls too, You pondered before your shoulders slackened, upon remembering that you’re not really that special—cause he’s probably bedded a lot of girls and does this to them.

Nonetheless, it’s still quite pleasant.

You looked at the lavish surroundings, taking in exquisite details. Gilded trim and intricately carved furnishings was everywhere, it looked fancy and all. Your gaze drifted and lingered on portraits adorning the white walls, peering into the pictures within gilded frames. One picture , though, seized your attention—it was about two people, and one just looked like suguru—but you’re not sure about it yet.

You wanted to confirm, so you strode forward trance-like, but then, satoru’s voice jarred your walking.

“What are you doing?” Satoru's lilting tones roused you. You turned to find him regarding you with questioning eyes, hands cradling fresh linens and some sort of pills that says “Plan B” atop the pristine fabric.

“Nothing...just looking around,” You murmured vaguely, brows furrowed slightly.

“Ah well. Here is it.” he says.

“I brought you Plan B too. Ugh.. i think i went raw last night, but don’t worry, i’m clean. Sorry [Name].”

You were about to ask him what he meant by that, but stopped when he practically placed the clothes in your hands.

As your hands grasped the unfamiliar fabrics, a weight dropped into your palm—a phone, your phone, to be specific.

“I think this is yours, i found it lying on my couch.” He said, arching an eyebrow.

“Yeah.. it’s mine. Thanks ”

Your fingertips traced over the cracked screen, appraising the damage done whilst gripped in oblivion and you wince.

“Damn...”

Notifications assailed your distracted eyes, your siblings’ concerns, there were so many missed calls and texts from them.

A grimace formed on your face, muscles tensing.

Your brat of a sisters is definitely gonna lecture you.

━━𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋

You sunk low into the bath, letting the warmth envelop you and melting away the tension from your muscles. Closing your eyes, you drew in a deep breath, reveling in the soothing scent of jasmine that perfumed the steam. Your fingers idly traced patterns in the surface, disturbing the drifting bubbles.

As you dragged your hands upwards over your skin, the bubbles popped, leaving trails of moisture in their wake. Your cellphone rested on the smooth tiles bordering the tub, its waterproof casing ensuring it would not come to harm.

Nanako’s tinny voice emanated from the device, pulling your mind from its half-formed reverie.

“Where were you, sister??” she whined petulantly. A sigh escaped your lips; you were in no mood for her querulous nagging.

“You sound like an angry mother,” you replied wryly.

“Not funny! We were so worried about you,” she retorted, concern lacing her words.

“Where’s mimiko?” You questioned, for you haven’t heard mimiko, after all, normally, it was always the both of them talking to you through phone, now though, it was solely nanako.

“I was uh.. at a friend’s house right now.” You lied feebly.

“She’s with me. She’s sleeping, and come back sister, we gotta tell you something important.”

Silence fell as you considered her statement, your thoughts inevitably turning to darker matters.

“Just say it on the phone, please?”

“Fine. We can’t find master geto’s body...” Nanako said solemnly, her voice taut with unease. Her words struck like icy blades into your core, and you froze momentarily amidst the comforting warmth, your blood chilling in your veins as you felt your mood suddenly fell. His body had yet to be found? Your jaw clenched involuntarily as restless questions swirled within your mind.

“Why?” you demanded, brows furrowed in consternation.

“Do you already know his killer then...?” The implications were grim, and you sat rigid, mind racing.

“I... I think it’s that okkotsu kid.”

“What the fuck? No way.” You were flabbergasted.

“You mean that kid?”

You frowned deeply, eyebrows furrowing in a look of utter repugnance as feelings of incredulity and revulsion washed over you. That meek urchin having bested Suguru was an affront to reason itself—the notion was positively preposterous. The lad seemed scarcely capable of lifting his own limbs after all!

“I can’t believe this.” You sighed in disappointment.

“But. I’m gonna avenge master suguru, don’t worry.”

“Those monkeys... Are the reason he’s dead... ugh.. those okkotsu brat used to be a monkey too, didn’t he? Then became a sorcerer ‘cause of the special grade cursed spirit.. riki? Was it? Or rika..?”

Your fingers curled into tight fists at your sides, nails digging crescents into your palms. That was a trait you got from suguru, albeit you were influenced by him, as you had the same loathing he held for non-sorcerers.

“True, true, i still can’t believe that he managed to defeat master geto... with that kind of physique...”

“Such a bodyshamer you are, nanako.” You mumble.

“It’s true!” Nanako replied.

“But then.. why would the other sorcerers protect them again...? I mean.. the monkeys... They’re the sole reason why curses are born anyways...” you muttered through clenched teeth, slumping against the wall of the washroom as soothing bubbles danced across your aching limbs.

“They probably got manipulated and can’t see the truth. They’re seriously brainwashed by them.” Nanako replied bitterly.

“Seriously. I told you guys that you should’ve just waited for me... Cause you know... We might stand a chance..” You added.

“After all, i’m unregistered, aren’t i? So they won’t know how my cursed techniques works.”

━━𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋

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