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guacamoleroll · 28 days

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ꜱᴡᴇᴇᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ʀɪɢʜᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴇʀᴄɪꜰᴜʟ, ɪ’ᴍ ᴀʟʟ ʙᴜᴛ ᴡᴀꜱʜᴇᴅ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛɪᴅᴇ ᴏꜰ ʜᴇʀ ʙʀᴇᴀᴛʜɪɴɢ · ꜰʏᴏᴅᴏʀ ᴅᴏꜱᴛᴏᴇᴠꜱᴋʏ

content. f!reader. discussions of existentialism, small themes of bodily harm, minor suggestive themes, protectiveness, pre-relationship, jealousy, fyodor is bad at feelings. nikolai has a crush on the reader. huge manga spoilers (bsd 114.5). 4k+ words.

author's note. guess who's back .ᐟ can you believe it's been almost two months since i've written a oneshot? crazy. i have multiple updates, but i'll be quick. am i working on my 1k+ event drabbles? yes! am i making a discord server? also yes (but only open to mutuals for the moment). am i working on my fyodor-fic? yes, yes, yes!

would you like to see more? join the taglist or comment under this post!

˚.⁺⊹ ꒱ 𝐚 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰. what happens when an immortal man is met with unwavering, unconditional human compassion and doesn't know what to do.

OR fyodor has never been treated as a human until he met her.

Fyodor rarely lingered on thoughts of the past. He never permitted himself to bide beyond the threshold of a mere glimpse, to observe under the guise of such mortal qualities as attachment and resentment. In truth, he did not remember his first death, the incident only an imperceivable splinter in the mind he had perfected. But the pain, a bittersweet edge as the mind scattered and the body ceased to function—he would be a fool to forget it. Death was not as merciful as the poets described. They comforted themselves with ideas of fulfillment and eternal rest, but they would not know. Poetry is written by the living, and the dead do not remember.

The sensation of foreign flesh encasing his metamorphizing body like a malleable cocoon became ritual. His complex existence became an easier pill to swallow with each death, and with it, his consternation towards the mangled reflection staring emptily back at him drifted away. Crumbled with stabs, pinned with nails, hung with ropes—humanity relished the thrill of the kill.

Sinful and foolish. Those painful betrayals of yesteryear evolved into the occasional reminder, lost of sentiment as he released his bond with mortal toils like companionship and love. He had taken his life, and subsequently his death, into his own hands. It made each treachery predictable and left his stilled heart impenetrable.

His most human aspect lay in his most monstrous one—his ability. Abilities were a two-edged sword, both a burden and a blessing. He was no different. Forced to remain outside the binds of mortality, as his existence remained a constant reminder of the cycle of life and death. Within and without in every sense of the phrase. A paradox.

He could not deny the isolation, but he would bear it for the sake of a sinless world. His brushes with enemies and allies alike became his only source of company. Yokohama had been his favorite; he craved each new day, testing their limits as his mortal mind yearned to find someone like him, someone on the brink of true existence—but he did not find it in his battles, nor did he expect to.

No matter the desperation of his centuries-long searches, he knew he would not find his match—they likely did not exist or would not for centuries to come. He observed the lives of hundreds over the years, yet, through generations, they did not stray from routine. No amount of transformation in the world could shake innate human composition, selfish and starved from birth. From dust they were formed, and like all before them, to dust they became. The monotony dullened his spirit—some said he believed himself to be God, but who wouldn't think of themself better if they were in his shoes? But he allowed the criticism, for he could not expect a mortal soul to understand immortality.

But he found a fissure in his journey.

Your first encounter had not been one of coincidence—the seeds had been intricately planted for months—and you were identical to everyone else, down on your luck with nowhere to turn. A talented individual primed for the picking, with no choice but to take the hand of a demon, who soothed your worries with sweet lies and a benevolent smile. Each of his subordinates had their own aspirations, easy to interweave into his own intricate plans, with them none the wiser. It was simple.

You were supposed to be that simple.

No one knew his true ability, whether he considered them an ally or an enemy. It made the truth pliable to his words and actions, leading others down one assumption or another without shining light on the truth. And he had drafted his subsequent death without a hitch, shot by a rash officer in the midst of a violent standoff, which would allow access to documents the man had been in the middle of delivering. But no draft of his death predicted a witness.

Your eyes were wide, frozen as your mind frazzled, but he did not think much of your initial reaction. It was not the first time he had an audience, but he loathed to end the show so soon—a performance without an encore was lackluster, but he couldn't spoil the surprise for the rest of the world. However, before he reached for the holstered gun on his belt, you scrambled towards him. It wouldn't have taken but a second to shoot you, but the contorted expression on your face, the tilt of your brow, and the contemplative purse of your lips had him pause. You had halted before him, your hands hovering over his shoulders, scanning his body.

"Are you okay?"

Those three measly words, such a straightforward question, drew out an unfathomable amount of irritation from the depths of his soul. Was it possible for a person to be so naïve? Anyone who had witnessed his ability had at least the insight to cower or run and be terrified for their life. It had always happened—people were predictable. His eyes bore into your own with more scrutiny than you had ever possibly received, but as if dissecting his most prevalent thoughts, you adjusted the wrinkled collar of his new uniform and spoke with a troubled frown.

"He killed you. You killed him. An eye-for-an-eye. A crime served with its equal punishment." Your eyes scanned over his clothes before lingering on his features, tracing across them with such, dare he think, care. As if ensuring this was the same man you had made a deal with many weeks before.

When was the last time you had spoken directly to him—he realizes never. He was unfamiliar with your hushed tone, one that was scolding yet tepid. Others shook his hand in conjunction with cheap words and boisterous gestures as if to intimidate a predator, but you had mustered the courage to do one thing they couldn't. You looked him in the eye.

"Our world rarely follows that equilibrium," you said in the silence, inching from him to allow space. "I find it refreshing."

He raised a brow, words leaving him. "...You have quite a fascinating mind, Ms. (Surname)."

Your smile made the warmth return to his fingertips. "I would hope so. Wouldn't want to bore you."

For the following weeks, he found himself enveloped in ideas of coincidence. It had been eons since he left a variable to pure chance, though he supposed his modified routine had not allowed fate to prosper—but it wasn't like he was constructing moments to seek your presence on purpose. To have one measly interaction, an opening to prod at the folds of your delicate mind. No, of course not.

In fact, a trace of your familiar hairstyle or the flutter of your narrow array of outfits imbued with him the impulse to squash you like an insect, to erase your existence from the world's canvas and return to his monotony. You wouldn't see his approach, or perhaps you would, but you wouldn't stop him. Instead, you'd look upon him again with those same eyes, all-knowing yet completely clueless—but it was the thought of that expression that quieted those thoughts, a breeched sensation of carnal impulses gripping his heart like a vice. However, he remained curious, and you remained fascinating.

You met each interaction with hospitality like an ever-burning hearth that sparked a foreign warmth upon his skin, but not out of dread or devotion—those were the extremes in his subordinates, and no one strayed from them. They either bowed or cowered at his feet, but you did not falter to your knees, at least not in the way he expected.

You remained at a respectable distance, especially in comparison to your almost intimate touch prior. Still, it was not out of wariness at his ability's capabilities but rather out of knowledge of your own expendability. You understood your role as a subordinate but had no issue meeting his gaze, speaking level to him whenever permitted, yet respecting his authority in observation.

His first judgment of your character, a naive and thoughtless woman, had been unfounded. You spoke with an intellect not found in many underneath him but did not utilize it as a weapon against others. Your awareness of the dangerous circumstances of your agreement seemed to contradict your actions, with no will to take out frustration towards your dealer. You seemed to, in fact, respect his artifice for its purpose and reap the perks of your deal rather than focus on the consequences—unlike most, you knew you weren't an exception to repercussions and accepted them as they were.

Your deal had not been one of much thought—he barely remembered it himself. You would work under him for an undecided amount of time and, in turn, receive shelter from the crimes of the outside world. It allowed for a menagerie of loopholes and interpretations, but it was of mutual understanding that he would not prevent your demise at the hands of enemy fire. Instead, you would only be allowed to live for as long as you were useful. Despite that knowledge, you met each moment with gratitude, relieved without the burden of death on your shoulders.

But your demise, supposedly so near, seemed to dwindle into the distance. He found alternate methods, better ones, to fulfill missions, other paths to follow, and subordinates to sacrifice in the name of salvation. Before long, you had worked for him for an entire year.

It was a week before your anniversary when you dared to surpass the threshold of his office's doorway, if you could call it that, and leaned against the frame to observe from behind, quiet as a mouse. He was surprised you hadn't been in here sooner.

"Do you need something?" he mused, a lilt of strange enjoyment in his tone. He didn't bother to pause in his motions, the strokes of his fingers against the keyboard only intensifying with every passing moment. He had been stripped of his normal coat, and ushanka sat on the side, which allowed for an almost softer appearance.

"I wanted to ask you a question."

He caught the unmistakable reluctance in your tone, a quiver in your voice, and he sighed. It was not the first time someone reconsidered their deal—it was quite common. He would appease their worries with those same sweet lies from before, before twisting them into a scheme so they would no longer become a problem. There was no use keeping around a subordinate who was bound to waver—but for the endless intrigue you provided, he would be merciful in his answer. Truthful, even.

"I'm afraid there's no budging on your deal, Ms. (Surname)." The air of the office had staled, and he was sure you had stiffened from horror, primed to turn tail and scutter to your room to wallow in self-pity and despair.

"Uh, I actually just wanted to know if you had any book recommendations."

He paused in his typing, staring down at his hands. "Book recommendations."

"Forgive me," you muttered, tone loosened of its typical confidence as it brimmed with embarrassment. "It's just…you don't hire the most well-read company, and I'd assumed you'd have a more expansive catalog than any of us would."

It was quiet for an instant until an almost unheard chuckle relinquished from his tightened lips after the comprehension of such a unique request. You had subverted his expectation once more, such a strange little thing, and he twisted around to devour the view of your expression, which remained sheepish in the aftermath of your meek inquiry, softened moreso as the luminescent light of screens wavered to draw decadent lines across your features.

"I'm certain I have something you'd enjoy."

You had not expected him to rise from his chair, standing like a deer in headlights as he approached the doorway. Only an amused lift of his brow and a smirk led you to realize that you blocked his path, and you scampered to the side. He led you through a narrowed path, one that turned unrecognizable after only a minute. The entire hall was dedicated to rooms you had never seen, isolated from everything else.

His hand settled against a rusted knob, the metal door groaning with a boisterous shriek that undoubtedly led to your doom—that was until you stepped inside, mouth gaping in awe at the treasure of reading material. It was enormous, at least with the finite amount of space. His lips twisted into something uncharacteristically fond as your eyes lingered from book to book, practically sparkling at the array of texts, some of which only he could provide.

He selected a couple of volumes from varied genres, and you were about to thank him, but the following words that came from his mouth surprised you both. "Feel free to come here whenever you see fit." The books he handed over were old but well-cherished if the creased spines were of any evidence. "I'm curious to hear your thoughts."

Most wouldn't have dared to make their presence known after a chance interaction with him, but he knew it would be foolish to assume that you were like most or even to predict your next move. Even though he would never admit it, he was anticipating your presence in his office, and you arrived like a saving grace, primed with thoughts and annotations.

"He may be extreme, but he embodies the pinnacle of the human condition," you started, locked in on the main protagonist. "He's a paradox, morally virtuous yet rotten."

He held the returned book in his hand, refusing to acknowledge the subtle thump of his heart as his touch brushed over the impressions in the leather cover made by your fingers. Those imprints seemed to ground him, and he only allowed himself to embrace the sensation rather than consider why he felt so calm.

"I see you enjoyed the story."

"I wouldn't put it like that," you argued, and he found himself only further encompassed in your discourse. "Enjoyment is easy to come by, but for a book to fulfill its purpose, it's supposed to make you think beyond its pages."

He leaned forward on his hand, humming as he yearned for more, homing in on every word and notation, for a chance to catch another delicious conviction spurned from your lips, hypnotized as you unpacked layers of moral conflict and human turmoil with ease. Your deconstruction was breathtaking, especially once you adjusted to your space, circling around his office and inching closer and closer. But then, you stopped.

"Hm."

He almost melted at the glimpse of that familiar expression—those furrowed brows and pursed lips. In further analysis, you resembled a bunny more than a human, and he almost expected a twitch in the tip of your nose as you became lost in thought. But the next look you struck him with, to his utter disdain, made him cave on instinct, like a predator about to sink his teeth in.

"A thought?"

You shook your head, clearing the air. "I forgot it as quick as it came."

But, like the sly prey you were, you slipped out of his queries with wit and once more avoided satisfying his curiosity, leaving him stranded in a position with no illusive way to question you for more. If it were anyone else, truly, he would have no desire for answers—they would be evident before they opened their mouths. Yet, every time he felt close to unraveling your secrets, you shrunk back. Almost as if you were teasing him.

Two could play at that.

Months passed, and your discussions became daily occurrences, the topic shifting from philosophical debates to the beautiful world outside. Your presence was like sweet manna to the starved, and he found himself pacified but not fulfilled. But he did not consider one aspect of the alteration of his routine—that it would place a target on your back—not by his enemies but by other subordinates.

A few of them had cornered you on a mission, planning to report back to him that you had died in the enemy crossfire—foolish that they didn't realize every death was always explicitly planned. Their insubordination would be met with fatal consequences, and while he wished in his heart to torment them for their witlessness, he knew that they would only cause further issues if they were allowed to remain alive.

Luck had accompanied you on your errands, a watchful, frosted-haired jester performing a fantastical rescue in your final moments. It was not without injuries, as you lay in a bed with several sprains and bruises, but your rest was accompanied by the same man who had saved you, for curiosity was one of his main traits. He had been curious about you for a while, much like everyone else, and stated to Fyodor that he could not help but personally prod at his newfound "tether," whatever that meant.

But Fyodor knew, from the moment you exchanged your first few words, that Nikolai would become enamored with your inquisitiveness and warmth. Your approach to thought had been spell-binding to anyone who would listen, not only himself. You had an analytical approach similar to his, but it did not hold the same intent or technique. It sung with empathy, your personal philosophies shining through while allowing others to shape your opinions into a far more informed one. You reveled in a change—a most inhuman and most alluring feature.

No one found more joy in that feature than Nikolai himself, who deemed you a dearest companion he must have lost and forgotten in the past—because where had you possibly been his entire life? His jokes made you laugh without restraint, but you didn't look at him as if he were a fool.

"That pitiful clown didn't stand a chance," Fyodor noted to himself, though not without resentment towards the strain in his chest as Nikolai braced a hand on your shoulder.

But the moment you leant your ear to the man and listened with an open mind to his ideals and demonstrated a drop of compassion towards his need to be free, Fyodor could recognize the familiar thoughts racing in Nikolai's mind. The same shock of finding someone who understood him and his purpose without repulsing his approach and the same impulse to sever the connection it created.

He knew it all too well. And he hated it, despised that he knew the sensation intimately, such a mortal affliction that it was reflected in another. He knew these emotions, at least some of them, but he did not think of them until another soul dared to encroach upon them. Upon you.

Oh, how he despised you.

He did not fathom why Nikolai had not done away with you—at least, he refused to. His stomach emptied with an insatiable hunger as the jester rushed away in a turn of his overcoat, with Fyodor not able to disregard the one visible eye of the man that looked upon him with an understanding far too founded.

He entered the room, your room, with an unease unlike him. You glanced from your reading material, another book from his collection, your expression of contentment shifting from content, to confusion, to land on concern, thinly veiled by a polite nod and 'hello.' He had never checked on any of his subordinates before and was almost willed to leave as quickly as he came.

"The antagonist is certainly intriguing, wouldn't you say?"

But you did not acknowledge his behavior. He never thought of himself witless enough to be in a position in which he could be called out for making such instinctual, carnal decisions—only for the subject of those to dismiss his intentions entirely. To not take advantage of his obvious vulnerabilities. You must have noticed it, but he realized it was never fear nor respect that made you avoid questioning him.

He had never noted it prior, but you did not back out of conversations because you displayed discomfort. You were rather easy to read, and you knew that, but it had seemed you were concealing some further. It was not a part of yourself that you had hidden, but instead, you had allowed him to hide his own susceptibilities under the guise of them being yours, not prodding him from your own observations out of respect for his boundaries. He was not an open book to many, but he had become another novel to you. Another character to dissect. But you didn't.

He left with more questions than any answers he had ever received, having found the answer to his first question, but only at a cost that left him to spiral in his own contemplations. What would cause you to be so considerate? He was left distracted by your presence more than ever before, even when you were not in the room. You were a nuisance, yet so refreshing. A paradox, as you would've cleverly pointed out—and he loathed that he had become so intimately familiar with you that he knew that.

He ceased to note your mannerisms as an alley to exploit you, but it seemed he hadn't in months. Instead, he had found them a constance he looked forward to. The soul that he had been seeking—was it indeed you?

And to his immortal horror and human content, he knew that your roles had been reversed. That if you had approached with a blade and asked him for his heart, he would carve it out himself without another thought. It would only take a smile and the brush of your hand, and he would be your puppet.

It had been another month, and you were permitted to walk the harbor docks without accompaniment; not that many were allowed to accompany you in the first place. You were satisfied with watching the water from a distance, stilled by the winter wind that whipped around with a bite. In deep thought, as you considered the past few months, almost two years of the same routine, and you smiled. Life had not been monotonous since becoming a member of the Rats, and your strange companionship with your boss left you relishing each new interaction. There was a bittersweetness to that man, and it had not taken much to reach it—it wasn't like you had done that on purpose.

But there was no need to ponder over that—it was cold. Your clothes were far too thin, but it wasn't like you were paid a normal salary like most people. You stuck with the clothes you had been able to take, always either too thin or too thick before the seasons, but you would make do like you always did.

That was until you felt the pressure of heavy fabric swallow you whole. You didn't even think to look up, too overwhelmed by the scent of old ink and the warmth of roughened fabric, marred with imperfections that could only be seen close up, and you brushed your fingers over them and simply relished in the sensation that the impressions grounded you. The puffed collar tickled your neck, and you couldn't restrain your laughter as you tried to wipe the water away from your eyes. But it was warm, so warm despite its exterior, and that was all that mattered to you.

You finally looked up.

"Fyodor?" you whispered, your voice almost lost in the wind.

He knew the questions in your gaze and the familiar contemplation as you debated whether to say anything more. You knew, in the depths of your kindred soul, that he would not answer your questions, nor did he have the answers himself, despite his longevity. Some things were best left unsaid. He was determined to uncover everything about you and this illness, an affliction that you had marred him with, to quell the rapid beat of his heart, a heart that finally belonged to him again.

"It's cold," he replied, sat beside you.

Neither of you looked at each other as you gazed out into the harbor, but for the first time, neither of you were bothered by the cold anymore.

ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ: @aureatchi @betweensinners @imhandicapableofmath @lovedazai @osameowdazai @ruru-kiss @ishqani @zyilas @lovesick-fairy @fedyascoffin @squigglewigglewoo @kelperspelt @miloofc @s1eepybunny @dazaisms @deepseafragments @crayonssz @himikoslove @little-miss-chaoss @justcallmesakira @number1morihater @fyorina

#muse's anthology ‧₊˚ ⋅#starring: fyodor .ೃ࿐#f!reader #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #bsd #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #bsd x reader #fyodor bsd #fyodor dostoevsky #fyodor x reader #fyodor dostoevsky x reader #bsd 114.5 #bsd spoilers

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lovetei · 11 months

Note

Heyyy,

I saw your toxic things the demon bros will do to keep you with them and i absolutely fell in love with. More of, my mental health issues felll in love with- ANYGAYSzz

I was wondering if you could maybe do the same for the side characters¿¿¿¿

Also did you drink water today? Cuz if thats a no here you go 💧💧💧💧

And some cookies just incase 🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪

Love anonymous 👑

I'm not actually supposed to post anything for tonight, because I don't know? I didn't get to start anything this morning so I crammed this post T_T

But love lots! Hope you enjoy this piece ^^

But seriously, I was like "Oh shit, the algorithm I don't have!" And proceed to finish this.

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

What are the most toxic thing they will do in a relationship just to make you stay with them?

Versions: Demon brothers, Side Characters

Warnings: Manipulation, yandere themes, execution, mention of torture, psychological torture, love potions, Mentions of murder, framing, alcohol

Links: Masterlist

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

DIAVOLO will use his authority

He's already so happy to have you by his side

And by staying there you already secured the position of the next ruler that will stand beside him

So, why do you have to leave..?

And the reasons

"I'm not fit enough..."

"I don't deserve this much..!"

"There are more people out there that are more worthy than me..."

Won't cut it.

He knows your worth and he's sure you do too.

So why?

Perhaps you're just nervous that you won't be able to match his grace?

You don't need to.

His grace is unmatched among the demons and yours is too among the mortals.

You both are on the same chapter, just on different pages.

So why make things hard for yourself?!

All you need to do is say yes and everything will be taken care of.

Clothes, food, money, status, security and literally anything.

He loves you and you does too so it's not going to be a marriage with no love...

SO WHY?

You're starting to drive him insane, MC.

And he might just do the same to you

So he'll invite you over for a fancy dinner and a few drinks

You accepted, despite knowing that Diavolo might try something after he got you drunk

Thinking that Diavolo forgot that you can't get drunk by just a basic demonus

Fool

That's what you are for thinking Diavolo actually misses something, anything about you

So he changed the bottle of demonus to an actual human liquor but neutralized it's taste by the help of his one, loyal servant

Barbatos

Not even two hour passed by and you're already putty in his hands

Dancing just like how he wants it on his palms

Then he'll slide a paper into the table to you, together with a beautiful pen

He then point at an empty line with his finger and said "Look at that MC, this line right here wants your signature."

"Hmm, why?~"

"Because it's such a huge fan of you and it needs you to become something, someone better, so why don't you give it a sign?" Is what he said while smirking.

And there you are, signing the papers while your mind is clouded with alcohol

Oh what is it?

Just a marriage contract

You don't want it?

Look into rules and regulations, Claus 5

It's against your human rights?

How foolish, you're not in the human world.

You will tell the whole Devildom about it?

Lèse majesté

And what's the punishment for committing that? Simple.

Death.

BARBATOS and his timeline power

He loves you

So much actually

At first, it was fun to be in a relationship with him

It's fun, slowly opening him up like a present and seeing the gift, a part of him that only you know.

He builds up trust for you and so do you for him

Then it started to get suffocating

He won't admit it openly but you know,

You know that the one who kills anyone who dared act close with you is him

And it terrifies you

You may allow it if it actually harms you, severely

But it's not for your protection anymore

He's doing it out of pure annoyance now

He doesn't like you around the brothers

The angels

Solomon

Thirteen

Or even Lord Diavolo

In fact, he doesn't want you around anyone.

And it's making you feel more unsafe

He's starting to isolate you from everyone and everything

He's trying to isolate you from the world

So you decided to end things with him

And he doesn't seem to take it lightly like how you expected...

How did you know?

Simple.

You woke up weeks before that break up happened

You know how it happened and you know who made it happen

It's none other than your boyfriend of course

You thought that maybe if you talk nicely with him he'll actually understand the problem

But he didn't

He started to get more and more aggressive with you

Then when the week end

It repeats

And repeats

And repeats again

And again

But it will keep going on like that until you learn

Until you learn that there's no other option than him

No other ending than him

He doesn't mind driving you crazy if it means you'll continue to love him

So good luck, MC.

SIMEON might just ask Father for help

Ho doesn't understand!

Why would you want to break up with him?!

He did everything, MC!

It's not clear!

Nothing is clear!

You just belive that you two are not fit together..?

You don't want him to end up like Lilith..?

He doesn't care!

He'll burn these precious, white wings for you!

He'll kill for you!

He'd actually prefer to end up like Lilith rather than this!

Because, at least, Lilith managed to be with her love until her life ended...

He'd rather be a demon or a human rather then live like the adored angel he is without you...

...

You'll still leave huh?

Alright then.

I guess he has no choice but to ask Father for help

What do you mean it will cause him to fall? Oh dear, it won't.

It might actually even promote him into a higher rank.

Father wants you in his side.

In fact, the whole celestial realm want you on this side

So when he asked "Father, it seems that we need to take even larger measure to have MC side with us. What do you think we can do?"

...oh?

Luke?

What a brilliant plan.

Now,

Let's see if you can still leave knowing an innocent life, Luke, will be put under danger because of this tantrum,

Because of you.

SOLOMON and his hidden antics

Oh dear, angel

His little devil

His most prized possession

His favorite concubine,

You won't be leaving him anytime soon, dear.

When you told him that "I want to break up with you."

He kept himself quite for a while before answering "Let me give it some thought, MC. For now, stay with me."

And just as he expected you listened obediently.

But then, his grip around your waits became more rough

And the hand he used to playfully wrap around your neck became more tight

It's hard...

It's hard to feed you his love laced cooking

But he found out that you just loves, adored even, Luke's baked cookies...

And since you're a human, he knows that Luke creates special cookies just for you

One that don't contain exotic ingredients that will upset your stomach

And it just made the work of latching love potions easier for him

He'll just add a few drops and it will do the magic for him

So, all he has to do sit tight

And wait for you to crawl back to his lap yourself.

RAPHAEL will use spears for example

Haha...

But he loves you, MC..?

He might just start crying if you say more

"Sure... But I'll make sure you'll come back to me..!"

At first, it sounded like a joke and it's funny enough to make you giggle

The beautiful memories of peaceful separation didn't last long after you saw a dead body pinned by spears though

His spears, to be specific

It doesn't even make sense

You don't even know this guy...

He hasn't talk to you and you don't even know him

Hell, you don't even recognize his face...

So what's the catch?

Why is he killing completely random people...

That's what have been running around your mind

You haven't seen him around RAD anymore

And if you do he refuse to answer your questions

Except his face will lightly flush and he'll even smile a little before sa say "Ah~ It's nice hearing your voice..."

His tone, the way he says it, none of theme are innocent

And he made it known that he knows what he's doing

The curiosity didn't last long

Until you found out that the corpses aren't for you from him as a threat

It was for the families of the victims

You found out that each of them have high power among the nobilities of Devildom

And he killed them to make the families think that you're telling him to do so

It's not to make you feel guilty, it for them to start attacking you

Until you're pushed back to a corner where no one else can save you

Except for him.

MEPHISTOPHELES's way only

Ha...

Man he loves you so much...

But all he do is stare at you blankly after you told him you ant to break up

Staring at you like you're just some kid throwing a tantrum

It's Mephistopheles in front of you, I mean, he's rich, handsome, tall, smart and has good family background

If he's a human everybody would have gone crazy over him already

Plus he wears heels and he has a sexy cane

What more could you ask for?

But yeah...

You don't want to be with him forever?

Sure, he'll talk to Diavolo.

"I'll buy MC's contract and I'll put them under my wing." Is all the reason he needs to say and a few more to have Diavolo selling you

What about your family?

This amount will do right?

I mean...

He paid for what your worth so don't expect it to be much.

Anyways, you're his now

By the eyes of the law, money and his

He'll never let you get away?

And if you did try to?

He'll simply frame you for treason and let's see if you won't come crawling back to him

After finding out that he can choose what type of punishment, torture method, to give you.

But don't worry.

He likes the game cat and mouse

He don't like playing it for a long time though

So be careful

His patience isn't as long as the line of money and connection ahead of him

THIRTEEN basically holds your life

Break up?

"You're not." Is all she said as she holds your candle

She's grinning widely as she let your candle melt, its 's wax falling directly in her hands

"Why would you even want to?" She asked even though she knows, no reason can separate the two of you

And if you did say "I don't care." as she holds you candle

She might just accidentally extinguish one of your loved ones candles

So be careful, MC.

Among everyone

She's the only one who won't joke around.

And just so you know

Her patience is shorter than the amount of time it requires to kill someone's fire off of their candle.

#obey me fluff #obey me headcanons #obey me nightbringer #obey me scenarios #obey me shall we date #obey me #obey me x reader #obey me angst #obey me Diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me simeon #obey me solomon #obey me luke #obey me Raphael #obey me Mephistopheles #obey me thirteen #obey me yandere

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jemiswumbo · 7 days

Text

she’s out of her mind

luke castellan x daughter of hades!reader

anon prompt: Hey babes! I saw your post about wanting prompts and I was wondering you could write Luke Castellan x Daughter of Hades! Reader where it's like sunshine (Luke) x grumpy (Reader) trope?

authors note: hello i am back with a small drabble for the cute prompt above! i got drunk off of applebees dollaritas and wrote this in 15mins so do with that information what you will. hope you enjoy! :)

title is from she’s out of her mind by blink-182. lyrics are a lil fitting.

warnings: none? i think? it’s just fluff, i think. sort of.

“Wake up, sunshine.”

You groaned low and deep, releasing a guttural sound full of pure agony. Rolling over on your (extremely warm, cozy, sleep inducing) bed, you came face to face with your boyfriend, Luke Castellan, who was currently opening up the curtains in your cabin.

Being the only child of Hades at the camp, the entire cabin was sparse and empty, save for the corner you called home. There was a bed with black sheets and blanket, a side table full of the few memorabilia you had to your name, and a dresser beside that which held your extensive collection of black clothing. The walls resembled the inner workings of a cavern; slick rock prodded with small bones and beautiful jewels encapsulated the bedroom areas. Sconces held lit torches burning bright with turquoise Greek fire.

Your favourite part of the cabin, though, was the specially-crafted blackout curtains that were typically drawn tight over the windows. Not even a sliver of light could penetrate the thick, black, velvet drapes. That was, until, your idiot boyfriend took it upon himself to draw them open. The harsh blades of sunlight violated your eyes, illiciting your pained groan. You hated it when people interrupted your sleep.

“Luke,” You whined, shoving your face into your pillow, hoping to evade the blinding light. “Let me sleep, please, for the love of the gods.”

“Fuck the gods,” Luke said, and you could hear the smirk in his voice without needing to see his (cute, devilishly handsome) face. “Anyways, it’s 9am! You’ve slept in long enough and I wanna have breakfast with you and your pretty face.” Luke flopped down on the bed beside you and flipped your body back over with ease, in a foolish attempt to force you into the world of the living.

Typical for a child of Death, you kept your eyes squeezed shut and pounded the bedsheet with your fist. “I will literally, genuinely, actually murder you without hesitation if you don’t leave me the fuck alone.”

“That’s no way to talk to your boyfriend.” Luke said, pressed a small kiss to your nose. You swatted him away with anger.

Any other (normal, rational, smart) kid at camp would’ve soiled their pants and fled in terror from such a threat uttered by the one and only daughter of Hades. You were capable of a simple killing — you were graciously bestowed the gift of sucking out the souls of mortals with a mere flick of the wrist — and so it was only logical to fear such a ghastly claim. Luke, however, had realized early on in your Camp days that you were full of shit and would never hurt a fly. He took an opportunity to befriend you and you’d been dating for a few years now. You were (truly, madly, deeply) in love with him and yes, despite your immense hatred for morning sunlight, you would never actually hurt him.

“Come on,” he prodded again, cuddling up beside you and tapping your forehead mischievously. You mustered the courage to crack open one eye (barely) and saw him grinning down at you. “Wake up, baby. Let’s get breakfast and then spend the day at the docks. We can swim and sun bathe and have a picnic—“

“Gods, you’re ambitious today,” you grumbled, rolling back over to face the opposite direction of Luke (and, the open windows), allowing him to grab your waist and pull you up against his chest. “I hate being in the sun. You know this.”

“Yeah, but I like to try new things with you,” Luke said, peppering a few kisses down your jaw and the side of your neck, squeezing his taut arm around your torso. “And I’m dying to see you in a bikini.”

“Perv,” you mumbled, but deep down you felt butterflies erupt in your stomach, causing a crimson blush to bloom over your chest. “Give me another hour to sleep.”

“No,” Luke said, and now it was his turn to groan impatiently. “Please, now, for me? I love you and want to spend time with you.”

“I hate you and want you to leave me alone,” you replied, pulling your fluffy duvet back up over your shoulders. “Bed time.”

“Beach time,” Luke decided. He sat up slightly and ripped the blankets entirely off your form, exposing your body to the cold air of the morning.

You shrieked. “Luke, you asshole—“

Luke jumped out of the bed, smiling wide. He gathered up all the blankets up into his arms, much to your dismay, and held them away from you. You only wore shorts and a tank top to sleep last night, and the chill in the room froze you right to your bones. Luke bundled up the bedding into a ball and fired it across the room. “There, now you’re acclimated.”

“You’re dumb as hell.”

“You are a grouchy, sleepy demon who needs breakfast and vitamin D.”

“Ugh!” You exploded, finally shoving yourself out of bed in a fit of exasperation. Luke had the audacity to applaud you. “Okay, there, I’m up!”

“So proud of you, my sleeping beauty,” Luke remarked. He crossed the room to you and placed a tender kiss to your lips, making sure to nip at your pouty bottom lip.

“Sorry for being rude,” You murmured, after having kissed him back. “I love you. I just don’t love being woken up.”

“I know,” Luke said with a grin. “I actually think you’re cute when your grumpy, so I do it on purpose to bug you.”

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t stop the small smirk from appearing on your cheeks. “Whatever. You promised breakfast and I’m starving, so let’s go.”

Luke mimicked your playful eyeroll. He took your hand, leading you out the door and towards the dining pavilion.

note 2: hi hi! if you read this and enjoyed it and maybe want to read more from me, i would super appreciate prompts and requests sent to my inbox! can’t guarantee i’ll write them all but i will for sure try my best! thanks for reading! :)

#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #pjo #percy jackon and the olympians #luke castellan #jemiswriting

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doki-doki-imagines · 4 months

Note

Hey I like your writing! I’d like to request headcanons if you are still taking them? I follow you on a separate account, so that’s why I had the courage to ask this with anonymous off.

I was thinking of the men competing for the reader? It would be like: Raiden/Kung Lao, Kenshi/Johnny, Lin Kuei brothers are each other’s rivals and they do their own things to one up each other or to gain the reader’s favor more 😆

author note: Don't worry! Anyway you don't need to follow me to request something!🫡

Raiden vs Kung Lao: -Ohhh the sparks. No way Raiden will back down, and Lao knows it. -The fight for your heart starts now. -Their approaches are different. Raiden is all soft words and quiet dates (masked as friendly outing). Raiden bets everything on his sweet personality because he thinks he doesn't look good enough for you. -Lao is all for showing off his physique. Biceps always exposed, smiling more than usual to show off the dimples you seem to like so much (and also because Lao is just happier when next to you). -He has no doubt you can fall just for his amazing personality too, but you know, since he has such a great physique, it would be stupid not to use it. -Lao is like a peacock showing off his round tail, hoping to impress you. -Raiden doesn't show off, but he'll always pay when he takes you out to eat or will make you win bets on purpose. -His proud smile makes your knees go jello. -They won't play dirty tricks to each other because, after all, they are friends! -The choice is yours!

Johnny vs Kenshi: -Master rizzer vs Secret rizzer. -Johnny knows about his friend's crush on you, but doesn't mind. No way his introvert friend can woo you! -What he doesn't count is that his friend is an ex-yakuza, and as one, had to seduce people and get into their pants to steal information more than once. -And Kenshi was always successful. -Johnny doesn't mind fighting for your love; he fully believes you'll reciprocate his crush! -He is all sweet smiles and warm eyes gazing into yours. Johnny tries to show off every time you are near him. -Johnny asks you out daily, and sometimes you accept. His smile on those occasions could light up an entire mansion. -He acts like a big lazy cat. If you compliment him back, you can hear a purr blossoming from Johnny's chest. -Everyone can tell that he is wrapped around your fingers. -Kenshi is way more subtle but much more intense. -He'd share a meal with you under a blossoming tree in complete silence. -"I love spring. The flowers on the trees are beautiful." Kenshi would chuckle at your words. Then he'll grip your chin, his hand going so smoothly on it you almost forgot he is blind. "I'm sure it's a way to thank you for blessing them with your beauty every day." Kenshi says it so naturally that you believe him. No comeback goes through your brain. -He is gonna use all his knowledge to woo you. -He is there for you, but never clingy. Kenshi is all subtle touches that leave you hanging. You need to miss him. -Also more prone to talk down Johnny. Kenshi is a man with a mission and needs to brush away all the obstacles to reach his goal. -The tomcat or the sneaky ninja? Okay, maybe the comparison doesn't sound fair… -Welp! It's your choice!

Bi-Han vs Kuai Liang vs Tomas Vrbada: -Mortal Kombat begins now! With the difference that, this is really mortal. -Every day is a brawl. They try to bring the other down all the time. -When Liang thought he had to win just against Tomas, he was quieter. He still wants to conquer your heart, but he doesn't try to bring his brother down. -The same could be said of Tomas. He wants to win your heart fair and square, not spreading lies about his rival and brother. Simply making you fall for him. -But when they noticed how Bi-Han looks at you… -They both look at each other in the eyes, and realisation hit them both like a brick. -Bi-Han really doesn't care about them and will also try to brush his crush for you off. He is grandmaster he doesn't have time for foolish stuff like love. -But when Bi-Han noticed his brothers crush for you… now he absolutely wants you. -Oh, Liang stood you up? "Damn, I'm so sorry. Come with me! I'll pay for everything you want at Madame Bo!" Tomas replies, voice thrilling full of happiness. -If only you knew that Liang didn't arrive because somebody trapped him in the woods. -Tomas forgot about your birthday. "That fool only cares for himself. Take this. My gift for you." Bi-Han pushes it toward your chest, fake indifference dripping from his gestures. The "By Tomas" note carefully replaced with "By Bi-Han". -That ass of Bi-Han froze the walls of your house? Don't worry, dear Liang will help you out warming the house up. And if you don't mind, he'll embrace you "So at least you can warm up." His handsome face dangerously close to yours. -If only you knew Bi-Han and Liang bickered before and the pyromancer made sure for Bi-Han's attack to hit exactly your house… -They are like beasts always going at each other thorats. Sadly, this make them all grumpier. -If they keep going like this, you won't end up with either of them. -But if you are interested, move fast! Or the world will have fewer ninjas soon…

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scuttlingcrab · 2 months

Note

Raphael telling Tav, "I've grown quite fond of you, in my way. Perhaps too fond."

Thank you so much for this prompt! I thought it would be fun to feature Tailor Tav, from A Perfect Fit and Dressed to Kill, as there is another prompt I recieved I'm hoping to feature her in soon. x

Summary: Raphael shares a drink with Tav at the Last Light Inn, hoping to entice her with a new proposition.

Link to my other work in the Devil's Archive.

Shadowy Deals

(Image via adevilyoudo)

Raphael reclined in his chair, watching Tav from across the entranceway of the Last Light Inn. He crossed his legs, comfortably resting an arm on the table as he studied the creature; his eyes gleaming, gazing with focus.

She was such an odd, clumsy little thing. Traipsing through the Sword Coast, narrowly surviving one fight, one obvious hazard after another. The foolish creature had nearly gotten herself killed by that True Soul Gut, somehow believing the Priestess would actually help with the parasite.

He shouldn’t be surprised at the blatant stupidity, afterall a drowning mortal will clutch at a twig. If it wasn’t for Raphael, her corpse and his recent schemes would be rotting away in that cell. And all for naught. His blood seethed at the thought of being set back another century if this current ploy was foiled.

Tav had failed to acknowledge Raphael’s presence the entire evening as she conducted her dealings in the lodging, continuously stomping up and down the stairs with her ragtag companions following suit. He had purposely positioned himself in a perfect location, one where no one would miss him upon entering the Inn, or so he thought. He even proudly donned the new doublet, never leaving his House of Hope without it since Tav had it delivered to him. The little mouse could do with more perceptive eyes.

There was no need for Raphael’s mood to be soured due to Tav’s negligence. He was still quite content after his lanceboard victory against Mol. He had effortlessly presented that cheeky tiefling with her proposition, and now all he had to do was wait. It was a cushy contract and one that offered Raphael heaps of benefits. Mol was a cunning wee thing, and Raphael always needed ambitious creatures under his employment. It was a win for them both.

However, all of that was merely to pass the time. He did find pleasure in dipping into his past successes in the Shadow-Cursed Lands, but there was only so much reminiscing he could do in one evening before he bored himself to death. Raphael had mortals to skin, souls to collect; he needed to make better use of his time than sit there, waiting to be noticed. He was only present for that coy creature, and he will get an audience. Needs must when the devil drives…

Shouting unexpectedly came from the other room, pulling Raphael’s focus away from Tav. Shadowheart and Lae'zel were in some sort of disagreement; they were screaming down each other's throats, swords drawn, and on the verge of bloodshed.

Raphael let out a dramatic sigh, he had no interest in their petty mortal qualms. He tilted his head, eyes returning to Tav. He took her in with a newfound satisfaction; captivated by the sudden air of authority she had over her companions as she jumped in between the bickering imbeciles in an attempt to quiet them. The creature did have her charms, whether Raphael liked to admit it or not.

Jaheira slammed a fist on her desk, lights flickering sporadically around the Inn.

“Silence!” Her voice boomed through every room of the establishment, causing bottles and bookshelves to tremble.

Harpers rose from their seats, drawing swords and readying bows at Jaheira’s change of temper. Raphael smirked, amused by the growing tension. He could hear each erratic heartbeat, smell the treacly scent of fear leaking from nearly every mortal within the vicinity.

Jaheira scowled at the adventurers, eyeing each of the companions in turn as she spoke.

“We do not fight amongst ourselves here. If you want to bicker like cubs then take it back to your camp. This will be your only warning.”

Jaheira stared at Shadowheart and Lae'zel a moment longer before returning to the desk, continuing her work.

Shadowheart and Lae'zel hissed like a pair of feral cats and stomped their separate ways. The vampire spawn, who always seemed to lurk about, just rolled his eyes, muttering something to himself before disappearing into the shadows.

Tav’s posture slumped as she watched her friends leave. Her face sagged, the brightness in her eyes fading. For the first time all evening she looked exhausted, no longer forced to wear the cracked facade she had built up around her companions.

After a moment of silence, the tired creature shook her head and dragged herself to the bar.

Raphael clapped his hands together, sparks flying from his fingertips. He had waited so long for this moment he thought it would never come, relieved he no longer had to make another visit to that squalid camp in order to speak with Tav. Despite his heart thundering in his chest, he rose gracefully from the seat, slowly pushing in the chair.

Raphael straightened his doublet, making sure it was flawless; no creases or wrinkles in sight, and sauntered his way towards the little mouse.

The hour had grown late and most of the surrounding area towards the back of the Last Light Inn was vacant, leaving Raphael alone with Tav. Any Harpers still awake cleared out after the scuffle, some returning to their posts scattered around the Inn.

Tav poured herself some ale and took a massive sip. She groaned in frustration, refilling the tankard and plopping down on the nearest stool. Raphael followed her lead, filling up his own mug before slithering to the other side of the bar.

Tav stared intensely into the tankard, as if searching for a greater meaning in the liquid. She was still covered in blood, her dainty hands caked in dirt and grime. Her clothes were torn and faded, far from the immaculate article of clothing she had gifted Raphael weeks prior. When was the last time she bathed? Did his little mouse have no ounce of dignity showing herself in such a manner outside of camp? Raphael made a note to himself to rectify this error if he was to continue with his antics.

“On a night most foul, the weary traveller sought refuge, searching for answers hidden in plain sight…” Raphael projected his voice to Tav from across the counter, twirling his fingers along the edges of the mug.

Tav took a sip of ale as she glanced up in the direction of Raphael’s voice. She goggled in disbelief when she locked eyes with him. The creature choked, nearly coughing up the beverage. She haphazardly used her sleeve to wipe away the ale dripping from her nose and mouth, trying to save herself from the embarrassment. Worry not, little mouse, your self respect was lost long ago.

“R-Raphael?!”

Raphael tilted his head, bowing slightly.

“If it isn’t my esteemed tadpoled friend. It’s so good to see you again and surprisingly still with your wits about you. How have you been managing as of late? By the ghastly state of your clothing, my guess is not very well.”

Tav’s cheeks flushed, as if a fire had been lit underneath her. She hid behind her tankard, taking another massive drink of ale.

“To be honest, this area is a bit more trouble than we expected… and you know, we’re a bit pressed for time with these, uh…” Tav pointed to her skull, wiggling her fingers in a cheap attempt at imitating the tadpoles. “Things, swimming around.”

“Very true. Time is of the essence, but that doesn’t mean we need to be reckless, my dear. On that note, I have been meaning to pick your brain, on a small matter…”

The creature opened her mouth as if to respond to Raphael, but he continued.

“Did you really think the Priestess would remove your tadpole without consequence? Did I not warn you there is no cure outside of my assistance?”

Tav shrugged. She squeezed the tankard in between her hands, her knuckles turning white.

“I was... just exploring my options and that Priestess was pretty damn convincing, just didn’t think she’d lock me up. I’m surprised Korrilla managed to find me in time.”

“I see, not even a thank you for my aid. It’s never too late, even for you, to learn a few manners.”

Tav narrowed her eyes. Raphael grinned, raising his mug. He took a sip of ale and shuddered, a chill crawling up his spine. The ale somehow burned his infernal tongue, leaving an acidic taste in his mouth.

“Truly a horrid substance…” Raphael sputtered.

He snapped his fingers, replacing the so-called ale with a finer, richer red wine. He took a sample of the new beverage to clean his palate, nodding to himself in approval.

”So, Korrilla…” Tav began.

“One moment please, if you would allow me… ”

Raphael snapped his fingers again and Tav’s tankard burst into flames. She jumped back, nearly falling off her stool. Moments later, the fire subsided, revealing a sparkling silver chalice in its wake.

“Your theatrics will be the death of me, Raphael.”

”I cannot sit here and willingly allow you to drink such filth in my presence. My apologies for the interruption, you may proceed.”

Tav gave Raphael a chiding stare and hesitantly picked up the chalice, smelling the wine.

“I take offence you think I would stoop so low, even after you indulged in my sumptuous spread at the House of Hope. It is safe, I assure you.”

Tav tasted the wine, her posture straightening as soon as it touched her lips. She let herself relax, leaning her elbows on the bar.

“Fair enough… I still prefer the ale.”

Raphael scoffed, contemplating snapping the remaining ale out of existence to spite the little mouse. He made another mental note to track down the mortal who deemed that abominable ale acceptable.

“Anyways, as I was saying, if Korrilla has been sneaking around all this time, watching us… then why didn’t she help with that Giyanki ambush? We were nearly wiped out earlier.”

”She was preoccupied.”

“And what were you bloody doing? If you have such an interest in us, I’d expect some more participation, at least.”

“Why I was in this very Inn, catching up with friends old and new. If you merely learned to open your eyes, you would see my presence is everywhere. You had a Psionic Detector, did you not? That should’ve given you a sufficient amount of warning. I will not be able to watch you every waking hour, no matter the temptation.”

There was a pause, Tav avoided Raphael’s eyes as she continued with her drink. Raphael covertly twirled a finger, refilling Tav’s chalice so it always remained full, unbeknownst to the creature.

Tav was starting to sway slightly, her eyes glazing over only just. She was frowning less the more she drank, that smile he enjoyed returning to her lips.

“Besides, my auspicious friend, why charge gallantly into battle when you can be focusing on more meaningful pursuits?”

Tav laughed into her cup, taking another mouthful.

“You’re mad. What more could I possibly do when there’s a fight with bloody Ketheric Thorm waiting for us around the corner? And not to mention the fate of the entire world is at stake!”

Raphael considered her outburst for a moment, enjoying the little mouse unravelling before his eyes.

“Perhaps I should have been more frank in our last conversation. My proposal still stands. I am itching for something new, something fresh…”

Raphael gestured towards the doublet by extending his arm and flicking his wrist. Tav rested her chin on her palm, squinting as she attempted to focus on Raphael. She continued to sway, side to side, dancing to a phantom tune. Her mouth fell open, eyes growing in size when she finally put two and two together.

“Oh gods! I didn’t realise you were still wearing it.”

“My dear, I would have you know I’ve done nothing but show off this doublet. You’ve caused quite the stir in my inner circles. I know a devil or two who might be keen on getting their claws on something similar.” And let them try, let them be jealous. Raphael would not allow it. The little mouse belonged to him, there would be no clothing like his in the Hells or on any other plane.

“Ha! You want me to make clothes for your devil friends?” Tav’s laughter grew more rambunctious.

Raphael clenched his teeth and slowly inhaled. He interlaced his fingers on the countertop in hopes of keeping his composure. Conversing with drunkards was more tortuous than dealing with insipid children! Raphael loathed repeating himself, it was a waste of his breath and talent as a devil. The mortals were to blame if they were too daft to keep up with his terms, or failed to understand the meaning behind his bespoke rhymes.

“No, my presumptuous little mouse. I want you to make clothes for me and only me. Permanently.”

“Oh, uh… wait, aren’t you supposed to offer me something in return?”

“I will make sure you are handsomely rewarded. There are some additional objectives that I will present to you and your companions in due time, but that is a separate matter.”

“Hmmm… right, right! You did ask me this before.”

Tav stared at Raphael, burrows furrowed in thought. He returned her gaze, allowing himself to disappear into her eyes, loosening up as he drowned in those blue irises. His skin prickled in anticipation of her answer. He took a sip of wine, wetting his drying mouth.

“Yea… y-you know what, it could be fun, why… the hell not!”

Tav reached towards her chalice but accidentally hit it, causing it to spill over the countertop. Her elbow slipped off the counter and she toppled backwards.

Raphael snapped his fingers and instantly appeared behind Tav, catching her. She was lighter than a feather and landed softly in his arms. She started cackling, pointing towards the wine slowly dripping onto the floor.

“Oooops. R-really sorry for the mess. Rapha… Hey, you… you know, you’re really fast.” Tav’s eyes tried to focus on Raphael but instead were moving around the ceiling. The creature had been reduced to a babbling infant.

“Tut, tut, the little mouse cannot handle her drink. What are we to do?”

“It…one drink… was only one.”

Tav’s eyes fluttered, yet her giggling carried on. She tried to raise her head but it lolled sideways, causing those luscious brown curls to obstruct half of her face.

There was a faint twinkle in Raphael’s eyes as he stared at the creature so helpless in his arms, her intoxicated daze was a most welcoming sight indeed. He grinned. There was so much promise in this moment; so many things he wished he could do, places he yearned to whisk her away to… but that was for another time. He needed to gain her trust, solidify their relationship.

"I've grown quite fond of you, in my way…” Raphael moved Tav’s hair out of her face, carefully tucking it behind her ear. “Perhaps too fond.”

“Mmm… Clothes, so nice… I, craft you… anything, always…” Her incoherent drivel faded before she melted into his arms, her body becoming limp.

Raphael observed the little mouse as he continued to caress her hair. She breathed slowly, blissfully unaware of the devil holding her in his fiery embrace, or the delicious deal she had just agreed to. Raphael pulled Tav closer, his fingers tingling as they held her.

He would sort the contract on the morrow and present it to the little mouse when she was of a clearer mind. He needed to see her face when she realised what she had done, when she understood what was truly expected of her. For now, let the creature sleep. She needed all the rest she could get for what awaited her in the coming days.

Raphael huffed, it seemed he would be forced to revisit that decrepit camp after all. The creature will need to repay him for his kindness. He stood back from the bar, concentrating on an open space in front of him. A blistering portal materialised, flames crackling as it waited for him to step through.

He approached the portal, pondering what sort of commission he would demand first.

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egginround · 6 months

Text

Thaw

Gale wrestles insecurity in an intimate moment with Tav. Gale x GN!Reader - CW: None.

For all his flowery words, Gale feels tongue-tied when you're near. Even the traitorous air from his lungs rushes out to greet you as you step into his tent, a bright shine in your eyes as if he's ever earned the right to be looked at like that. A phantom of a touch as you brush the wisps of hair from his face, a startingly natural slip of your hand into his. Not even his endless years of study could catalogue the swell of magic in his blood - it's moments like these that have him spellbound.

Your hands leave a delicious trail of warmth up his skin. His shoulders, his arms, the sides of his body. Not one inch is left untouched, not under your curious hands. As the two of you lie together, a sinking chill starts to frost over in his mind, a nagging guilt that claws into the back of his head. He takes a shuddering breath and wrestles it down as your touches whisper over him. A voice hissing sick poison - telling him he has done nothing to earn this, that you will leave at his next mistake - floods into his thoughts. His breathing quickens but not for pleasure. As his eyes dart across the tent, hands starting to tremble as if to cast Misty Step, he feels ready to escape - and yet he can't.

It is impossible to tear his gaze from yours once you see him.

Shivers dot the back of his neck, but still he cannot look away. All the brilliance of the morning dawn could not compare to the way you peer up at him. Your gaze seems to burn his very soul - past the bravado, the confidence. The heat radiating off your palms sinks deep into his chest, flooding his every vein, and threatens to choke him as it washes up his throat. His tongue, usually well-practised from his propensity towards verbosity, suddenly feels large and foolish in his mouth as he struggles to free a coherent sentence. He can only hold your hand to his chest just as he did all those months ago. It feels poetic in some way. Again, he is at your mercy, pleading, desperate, aching for you to understand him in a way he cannot trust himself to say.

He hopes that somehow you will understand the depth of his feelings for you. Even the Astral Plane seems insufficient. Shifting, you slide into a more comfortable position and lay across him, your cheek resting on his shoulder as if his orb doesn't thrum a stuttering beat. As if your fingertips would not melt away his sickening mortal flesh, and there he would lay - stripped to mere bone and gasping for breath all the same.

The same fingertips reach to tease the wrinkles from his brow, and he snaps out of his reverie. They tangle themselves in his hair before tracing a near-scorching path down his cheek, ghosting over the corner of his lips and oh, it must certainly be the orb that lurches so in his chest. Again, he endeavours to loosen a word from his lips, but - ever the tactician - you read him before he has the chance.

As Mystra's Chosen, Gale had tasted the highs and lows of all the Weave could offer. The electrifying sensation of power, the soul-piercing loneliness without it. The endless weeks where he locked himself away has left him brittle as ice when confronted with the mortifying idea of being known to another. So much of his heart has wasted away in his chase for the cold wisps of Mystra's perfect favour.

He grunts as your nails accidently scratch his skin, the pain bringing him back to the moment, and your cheeks faintly colour in embarrassment. A hoarse chuckle is all he can let out as he finally reaches out to you fully. He thinks he'll take the blistering warmth of your mortal touch any day.

Author Notes: I thought it'd be interesting to write a Gale situation where he doesn't fucking talk LOL. Much love for our rizzard (who i am convinced is actually a sorceror ahaha) - maybe one day I'll write something actually happening instead of lovesick fools. I might expand this when I post on ao3 hmmm.

#gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #gale x reader #gale x tav #gale fluff #drabble #edited bc i noticed a lotta mistakes 💀#eggin writes

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withered-blossoms · 6 months

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(Withered-Blossoms) SAGAU Scheming Creator! Reader Imposter AU Part 5

A/N: First and foremost, this AU is by @sena-shi

I do not own this series, nor the idea.

Secondly, I absolutely love this series, it is amazingly written and I would highly recommend checking it out to those who haven't. Third, after reading part 4, I suddenly had a tiny bit of inspiration and I wanted to try writing my version of part 5 of it (this will not affect the original author in writing part 5 of the series, worry not).

Edit: The original author has given me her consent to write my version of this series, admittedly I should have dm'ed her beforehand, and I will never make this mistake again.

Also this is not proofread, so apologies for some typos/spelling mistakes. The word count is 3878 words or so Google Docs says.

Anyways, enjoy :DDDD

꧁༺Main Page | Angst Masterlist | Fluff Masterlist༻꧂

If every year of not being graced with your divine presence acts as a tiny blade that cuts a fibre of the impossibly thin thread known as Zhongli's sanity, then seeing you allowing these.....unworthy, mortal commoners to bask in the holy light you radiate would be the pair of scissors that snips the thread in half.

How dare they, when those foolish mortals are unable and consequently have not worshipped you for thousands of years, flit around you like the pesky flies they were? How dare they, not having devoted their entire being, their entire life, their existence's purpose to you, drink up your attention so hungrily? How dare they take the place that belonged, rightfully so, to him and only him when what they have done for you are nothing but specks of dust compared to the glorious acts he carried out in your name?

So why were you choosing to stay with them? When they have done nothing worthy of your grace? Why were you looking at him with a gaze that carried the heavy disappointment and disapproval that you never voiced? Zhongli does not understand, and neither do the adepti now standing beside him in a neat, uniform line, waiting for their archon's commands.

You find it amusing though. One would think that for someone who has lived for so long like Zhongli, he would be an expert at hiding his emotions and maintaining that mask of cool, indifferent politeness that he took pride in. And yet look at him now, losing that ability and reverting back to a child who knows not about keeping emotions from twisting their features into an ugly snarl.

Ganyu, on the other hand, looked pale and regretful. Under normal circumstances, should such a look appear on a face as pretty as Ganyu's, anyone else would have gone soft and thrown in the towel. But yet that sight filled your heart with this twisted sort of satisfaction. The desire for them to beg and grovel at your feet for forgiveness was thinly veiled behind a mask of betrayal and shock, and you were starting to find it hard not to let your eyes crinkle from the smirk threatening to curve your lips.

Not now, you reminded yourself, it's not the time for your facade to shatter.

And Xiao, your sweet, sweet child, who also happens to be the one responsible for the wound scabbed over on your leg. He, who was so persistent on making sure you were unable to escape, could not even look at your eyes now, amber orbs choosing to lock onto their targets instead. He couldn't bring himself to check your form, not when the chance of your bloody bandages catching his attention was so great.

After all, Rex Lapis needs his finely-honed weapon to carry out his commands now, and he couldn't break down in front of his divine creator. He's already shown such a horrifying part of him to you, one that slaughtered and knew nothing else, he would really go insane if you started fearing his more unsightly sides.

You would have applauded Morax and his little clique for the entertaining display of emotions had the boat not started to rock even more. It truly was a shame that they did not take up Sichuan Opera face-changing; they would have done so well even without the masks.

Meanwhile, Beidou was busy commanding the crew and making preparations for a possible tsunami, and Kazuha was ready to scoop you into his arms and bring you under deck. You, however, were not willing to miss this act, and thus stopped him by placing a hand over his. Temporarily ignoring how he froze up and blushed, you turned to the defenders of Liyue.

You could tell that the only reason why Zhongli kept up the intensity of the earthquake was because Xiao or the Cloud Retainer would immediately pluck you out of the ship before it was swallowed by the massive waves, but would you really just let yourself be taken to Liyue like this? Before even seeing the famed Inazuma? Of course not, after all you still had to see how Raiden Shogun, the one you personally raised alongside Zhongli, would react after seeing your face.

Choosing to let the winds carry your seemingly heartbroken words to their ears, you muttered, "Are you.....here to capture me? Is Liyue really unable to tolerate my existence?" And oh how much delight their flinches brought, especially the one coming from the ever-composed Geo Archon. Upon hearing your words, the group dropped to their knees, the seabed stilling as apologies and pleads spilled from their lips.

Beidou and her crew on the other hand though, you really got to give it to them. As if sensing your intentions to leave quickly, they took the chance to sail away as quickly as possible, with the winds guiding the ship. And of course, you were not going to let their efforts go to waste, choosing to keep the crazed adepti at bay with your sorrowful words.

"I've already given you my word to stay out of your sight, Morax. I apologise for breaking my promise to you, and if Liyue wishes so, I will disappear here and now. However, if you are still willing to listen to me, then I wish not for any harm to befall on these kind souls." You sighed, motioning to the Alcor's crew.

You weren't dumb; you could practically see the sparks forming from their clashing gazes. Beidou and Kazuha's were filled with hatred— disdain, even— and the adepti's a beautiful mix of hesitation and jealousy. What a wonderful sight it was, seeing the high and mighty adepti almost grovelling at your feet, and watching them struggle internally between their twisted desires and your commands.

The quirk of your lips was getting harder and harder to hide even behind your veil, and you had to turn your head before you burst out laughing at their foolish attempt at redemption.

But even the turn of your head was planned, not that they needed to know anyways. You know their rotten brains will just automatically decipher this action as a small try to hide your disappointment. Adding the facts that Zhongli had made you cry and Xiao had wounded you personally into the equation, the tides would no doubt turn to your favour.

Seeing how Zhongli's grip on his weapon tightened then loosened, you knew you had won the bet. He could only keep his head down low and motion for the adepti to retreat while stilling the earth, though his burning gaze stayed on your form until The Alcor all but disappeared into the horizon. He simply couldn't risk you leaving Teyvat for good, not when he finally had you in his grasp, and so he will wait patiently for the right time, just as he had for the past thousands of years.

"It is time for our divine grace to take back their throne." He muttered, the adepti bowing when they realised what his words entailed. He knew they would not run their mouth in front of the others; this was a matter only for the adepti to know. Not long after, Zhongli was left alone, the others returning to their posts and duties. He watched as the Alcor gradually disappeared from his sights, vowing that he would bring you back no matter what.

And with that grand finale, you finally left Liyue.

The journey to Inazuma was relatively pleasant, save for the terrifying thunderstorms at the lower-half of the trip. But eventually the ship docked, and you saw that familiar teleport waypoint where you once met the capable and friendly housekeeper named Thoma, except that he was nowhere to be seen this time. Oh well, it does not matter, he is probably at the Kamisato estate, waiting for his Lord's commands as usual. What was more important was playing your part as the kind and benevolent creator, and so you turned to the crew and smiled sweetly, thanking them for getting you to Inazuma safely with as much sincerity as you could muster to make it more convincing.

Travelling along the streets, without a friendly local guide this time, you could not help but subtly glance around. From the game, you always knew how the locals here treated foreigners, but experiencing it yourself turned that knowledge into the understatement of the year. It wasn't just overcharging you to a ridiculous degree; there were also the stares that never seemed to leave your figure and the whispers that revolved around you as if you were the eye of a tornado.

But it matters not. As long as they don't stop you from "vacationing" in this gorgeous nation, then you won't pay any mind to their actions.

However, this time the plot happened faster. You had no idea just how The Shogun managed to grasp the news of a fake creator being present when she was so....closed-off from the world, but clearly she had some amazing news sources. The streets were filled with even more patrolling officers than you recalled, and even the people on the streets had taken to scattering when the Doushin came around.

Well, this was clearly not a good time to be a foreigner huh? Because a Doushin was already heading your way, and in a condescending tone had asked for your identity, or any documents related to it. You did not have any, though this time even Kazuha could not save you with his smooth-talking, which in fact seemed to annoy the officer more.

Instead, the officer reached out to remove your veil, but Kazuha wasn't going to let him. Half because he knew you were going to get taken away, and the other half was due to the slight possessivenes swirling in his chest. Why should he have to let other people be graced by your beauty and light?

Although shielding you from the guard did seem to wear his patience thinner than the thread that made up Zhongli's sanity.

Sensing Kazuha's worry when the officer roughly grabbed your arm to take you away, you slyly patted the back of his hand and shook your head, putting on a comforting smile and whispering for him to go back to the Crux.

Despite his initial hesitation, you knew he'd listen to you anyways. After all, he couldn't fight the Doushin here and risk getting his kind, caring and benevolent creator injured or even exposed here could he?

Hence he retreated, hungrily drinking up your sweet smile as you were dragged away. He feared that this might be the last time he'll ever see of you and so he did his best to engrave the soft and beautiful curve of your lips into his memory as he went back to find Beidou.

You, on the other hand, weren't too worried. After making sure you had fooled Kazuha with a convincing smile, you opted to follow the guard instead. He was essentially your one-way ticket to the Raiden, so why not? Even though you would have to be thrown into a prison cell, you supposed that it wouldn't be the worst thing on Earth.

In the end, you will be the one seeing their arrogance and triumph morph into an amusing combination of regret and desperation anyways, and you certainly weren't in a rush to speed up the process.

".....Is this the order of The Shogun?" You asked, knowing that he most likely weren't going to give you an answer, but you still have to keep up the role, which was as fake as they had deemed your identity to be. So, you let out a seemingly self-mocking chuckle.

"First Mondstadt, then Liyue, and now Inazuma. It would seem that I am truly not wanted by my children. But at least they look happy and content. After all, even baby birds leave their nests one day...."

Muttering to yourself, you didn't miss the slight flinch from the officer, though it only earned you his panic, hidden behind a harsh shove into your cell once he's done reporting to his higher-ups.

"Do not act like you're the real creator, Their Grace may be forgiving and benevolent, but we certainly will not be merciful."

He snorted and walked off. Good lord, you have never seen anyone as arrogant as that. And of course you weren't complaining, it just makes their begging afterwards more.....satisfying, wouldn't you agree?

That doesn't make your time in the cell any more pleasant though, seeing how they saved the worst one for you.

You didn't have to wait long though, since it only took an hour or two before Kujou Sara was standing before you, peering down at your curled up form as if you were the most repulsive being she's ever laid her eyes on.

Instead, she settled for ordering the guards to free you from confinement and had them escort you while she lead the way to the Shogun's residence. Sara spoke not a word to you as usual, and you busied yourself with looking around subtly while keeping your head low to mask your lack of fear. The scenery was more beautiful than what you had seen in game; the colours were more vivid, and even the lavender melon that hadn't looked appetising were practically tempting you to take a bite out of their orchid bodies. Unfortunately, you didn't get to take in the beautiful view a little longer, for they had already brought you into the Tenshukaku.

It would seem that Raiden is eager to meet you, seeing how swiftly her subordinates dragged you to the Tenshukaku. Upon entering the room, your eyes landed on the puppet sitting serenly on her throne, eyes closed and meditating. Hah, what a nice facade to disguise the anger practically radiating off of her.

You weren't scared though. After all, even dogs don't bite the hand that feeds them, and you could easily take back everything you've ever graced them with.

Thus, 'long time no see, my strongest battery.' was your first thought, though you could not let that spill past your lips. Hence, you let out a small but sweet smile and mumbled in the sweetest voice you could let flow from your vocal chords.

"How have you been, Ei?"

The archon in question slowly opened her eyes, elegant and refined as always. Although, from the fury burning in her purple irises alone, you could already tell that she wanted your existence to cease, and that if it weren't for the fact that the creator had asked to bring you back alive, you feared she may have slashed you with her elemental burst right here and now.

You could sense how the Doushin and Sara froze upon hearing you address their archon by her real name. However, before Sara could reprimand you, a look from Raiden sent them bowing and leaving the room. And now, it was just you and her.

You were just wondering why she demanded to meet you alone when a thought popped up in your brain — could it be that because she couldn't execute you personally without the other archons present, she wishes to hurt you in a non-lethal way instead? Seeing the confirmation in the lilac eyes you once found beautiful, you almost let out a snort. My my, who knew that the almighty Raiden Ei was actually such a sadist?

You refused to let her hurt you though. How dare they hurt the actual divine being who had given them life and created this beautiful world for them to live in for a mere phony? How dare they give you scars just because they were too ignorant to see who's the real deal?

With that in mind, you raised your eyes to meet hers, yours ever so subtly showing the galaxies they hold, and hers slowly filling with slight confusion when she noticed the depth of your orbs. It did not hinder her from holding her precious sword to your neck though, so you cut her off before she could speak.

"You mentioned that when we meet, you wished for us to enjoy some tricolour dango together along with the finest tea you have. It is such a shame that we had to meet like this." You smiled, keeping your gaze and voice level as you took in every change in her expression from suspect, to shock, to disbelief and finally distrust.

"....I do not know how you dug up that information. It matters not, for that only applies to their Grace. You are but an imposter who is undeserving and yet seeks to take over the throne, and I shall not be deceived so easily. Since their Grace is too kind to the likes of you, I will take it upon myself as their loyal devotee to punish you for your atrocious attempt."

Before she could lift her blade, you grabbed it with a hand. You thanked the high heavens that it was as sharp as you hoped it to be, since you did not have to dig the blade too deeply into your skin for your blood to show. You weren't willing to leave scars because of their foolishness after all, and God knows that those maniacs would be more delighted knowing that they had marked you in some way, albeit under less ideal circumstances.

The two of you watched as the ichor slid down your arm before one, two, three drops of it splattered onto the pristine white clothing you had. It shimmered an ethereal gold before being absorbed, and Raiden had finally gone still for once. You could almost hear the non-existent gears turning in the puppet's head, where a brain was supposed to be, and before you could react, she had gently removed your injured hand from her blade and tossed the sword aside.

Kneeling before you, she fretted over your injury while keeping her head low as Zhongli and the adepti had, desperately trying to heal you. Frantic apologies flowed from her lips like a river, and she panicked slightly more when she noticed that you were still bleeding. She was selfish, not wanting others to know about your existence, but your well-being and health eventually won the mental debate taking place in the puppet's head.

"Your grace, I did not realise it was you. My sincerest apologies for being ignorant, and I am aware of how unworthy I am to touch you but I beg of you, do let me heal your injuries before you decide to take your anger out on me." Having said that, she called for Sara to bring a medical kit, and the lady swiftly came in worth one in her hand. She showed neither shock nor regret as she helped the Shogun patch up your hand, though you supposed that it was only normal considering the number of years she's had in learning how to keep her emotions from showing on her face.

Huh, even a short-lived mortal is more capable than long-lived archons in this aspect.

You were tempted to stay and see how Ei and Inazuma would react and repent for their sins, yet the beginnings of an earthquake warned you to leave quickly. Your time in the Tenshukaku was almost up, so you quickly grabbed a brush and paper and left a note for a certain angy dragon. Or maybe it was an angy Teyvat, you didn't know. Just in case it was the former though, you could only hope that a note would prevent the people of this gorgeous nation from being decimated.

'Morax, I wish not for the citizens of Inazuma to face your wrath. With that, I hope you spare them from death and suffering alike.'

The note was short and sweet, as you had liked. There was nothing else to say to him anyways, so you rolled up the paper and turned to Ei, placing it into her hands.

"If you wish for your people and nation to live on, pass this to Morax if he arrives. Do not fight, your people should take priority. I'm terribly sorry for ruining your eternity, but it seems that you are favoured by luck itself, for my time is up." You lifted the corners of your lips into a gentle curve as you patted her hand.

You really were too kind, so benevolent and so bright that Ei could not believe her eyes nor ears. Her people watched and talked about you behind your back, dragged and tossed you into the filthiest cell they had, and she herself had injured you personally. She wanted to make it up to you, to proceed and lavish you in the best luxuries Inazuma, no, Teyvat could provide. She did not want you to be absent from her side, so why was it that even though you were in her hold now, it seemed like you would disappear any second?

What did she have to do to make you stay? Did you want her heart? Her head? Or should she injure her hand the way she had injured you? Tell her, what did you want from the Raiden Shogun? She would give you everything and anything, from her eternity to the stars in the sky. So why? Why did you still want to leave? Why not stay with her for eternity?

Seeing the crazed looks in those purple orbs, you removed yourself from her tightening grasp and avoided her attempts to hold onto you to ensure your stay. You still had to visit either Sumeru or Watatsumi Island anyways, and being held in captivity was not a price you were willing to pay. You knew that she could and would easily pull you into her consciousness, and you sincerely did not want to live your life there.

Reminding yourself that, your eyelids fluttered shut and you let the wisps of power engulfing you take you away, finding yourself in front of the Alcor again. Technically speaking, you also did owe the crew an explanation for your sudden disappearance and some reassurance, the sudden hug from Kazuha only proving you right. Even though you weren't close to him or Beidou, you still felt a little guilty when you realised that he was shaking.

To make it up to him, you patted his back and offered Beidou to join in on the hug, which she appeared to accept begrudgingly but you knew better, especially from the way her shoulders sagged in relief. Once they had both calmed their nerves, you ushered them back to work. Despite them questioning your next destination, you knew it would be impractical for them to sail to the other nations with you, and teleport waypoints were a godsend. You told the two that, and as disappointed as they were to not be able to accompany you, they still respected your wishes unlike a certain duo, possibly trio, which you greatly appreciated.

Hence,for the first time since arriving in Teyvat, you gave your first genuine smile, making Kazuha swoon internally and Beidou turn away in order to hide her burning cheeks. You were very well aware that the archons could possibly see this, though you weren't worried. In spite of the lightning flashing in the background and the rumble of the earth, you knew that they wish not to end up in your bad books just for a few mortals. Having confirmed the safety of the people who had helped you, you could finally retreat to your room on the ship and decide your next destination.

Now, where should you grace with your presence next?

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maple-seed · 8 months

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Thrown - Chapter 40: Foolish Mortal

Summary: You make a terrible mistake.

Word Count: 4,036

Author's Notes: :)

Thrown Masterlist Loki Masterlist

It was a routine market day. You took a moment to laugh to yourself that this was now what you considered to be routine. You woke up early and a god showed up on your doorstep to help you with your chores. Completely routine. He was sitting beside you now as Breidr pulled the wagon to town. Loki had his arm stretched across the back of the seat. He had been doing that lately. You would never breathe a word about that, and hoped he couldn't hear how your heart beat skipped every time.

And it did happen every time. It was ridiculous. A part of you wanted to say that you really should have gotten this under control by now. The rest of you knew it was a losing battle. You did your best to keep it from being obvious (you hoped), but your feelings were there and they weren't budging. If anything, they had grown stronger. Especially recently. You weren't sure how you would have made it through these past weeks without him. He had been there without you even needing to ask. You glanced over at him as he was admiring the scenery, and felt incredibly grateful that this was now your normal.

When you arrive at the market the two of you go to work without discussion. Loki knew how to set up the booth by now, though he was never above making a suggestion for improvement. You would roll your eyes and remind him that you have been doing this for years and he would insist that your business had increased dramatically with his input.

Khadija and Hani arrived. You told Hani about the time you tamed a lion (a mixed success, naturally). She asked to see Loki's magic and he knelt to show her something in his hands. This was your favorite part of the day. The magic was wonderful, of course, but what you really loved was watching his face. It was so open and earnest when he shared his talent with this eager audience. You loved the way they huddled together, like two conspirators. A small white bird flew away from them and you watched his smile spread in response to Hani's laughter. She bounded away back to her mother, Loki looked up and caught you staring. He often did. You tried not to react immediately, hoping that you wouldn't be given away. The way he kept his eyes on you as he stood, his face still soft, made your stomach flip. Once you felt it wouldn't be suspicious, you turned away to sort the cash box.

"Did you enjoy the show?" You could hear the smirk he was wearing as he leaned back against the counter. "I've seen better." You steeled yourself to look at him, then returned the smirk. He only chuckled.

The market was open and the day continued with your new normal. An alien prince sweet-talked customers into buying your dishes. He ate a sandwich you made for him. The two of you shared a packet of candied nuts.

After lunch you spotted a familiar face approaching your booth, Fredrik Larsen, an ever-friendly middle-aged man. You smiled as he reached the counter. "Hello, Mr. Larsen. How are you doing today?" He grimaced. "I have been better, I'm afraid. I'm here to redeem myself." You raised your eyebrows. "Oh?" "Yes." He was looking over the items in front of him. "This morning at breakfast, fool that I am, I manage to knock over Anja's favorite vase." He looked up at you over his glasses. "One of yours, you know it? It was blue, with speckles?" You slowly nodded while trying to recall. "Yes, I think I remember." "Well, it is no more." He sighed. "She forgives me, of course, but I would like to bring home a replacement." "And maybe some flowers to go in it?" You grinned. He chuckled and tapped his nose. "Clever girl. Precisely."

You helped him select a vase that was judged to be similar enough to the one that was broken and began wrapping it, with a little extra padding just in case. He peered at you over his glasses again with a wry smile. "Terna, aren't you married yet?" You laughed. "No sir, not me." He heaved a disappointed sigh. "I'll never understand the men in this town." He pointed a finger at you. "But someone has stolen your heart, surely?" You laughed again, shaking your head. "No, not yet." From the corner of your eye you saw Loki's head snap in your direction. "Ah, well," he idly scratched his jaw with a shrug, "the men in this town... you may be better off." "That's how I see it." You gave him a wink as you handed over the vase. "Give my love to Anja. I hope the rest of your day goes well." "It's much improved already." He smiled and waved as he left.

You turned around to see Loki watching you with his arms crossed, wearing a slightly amused expression. There was a glint in his eye that worried you. You couldn't help but feel it's the sort of look a fox might give a cornered rabbit. "What?" He narrowed his eyes, but his smile remained. "You lied to that man." You frowned. "No I didn't. I do hope his day goes well." He rolled his eyes. "Not that. Before." There was a pause while you tried to recall the conversation you just had. "You told him no one had stolen your heart." Ice ran through your veins, your eyes wide. "What? No. That's not...." He grinned. "Oh, darling, surely you aren't going to attempt a second lie to cover the first?" "I-" You started, then stopped. It was too late. There was no way to salvage this now. You pressed your lips together and turned away from him, busying yourself by straightening items on the counter. "Forget about it." He laughed, and you heard him cross behind you to stand by your side. "Come now, we're friends, aren't we? Why would you keep this from me?" "I don't want to talk about it." You turned away from him again. He moved to your other side. "You must tell me who it is." "No." You said flatly. "Very well."

He turned around and called out to the booth next door. "Khadija! Who is Terna in love with?" You frantically spun around and clapped your hand over his mouth. "Loki!" You felt him grinning beneath your palm. For her part, Khadija laughed and gave a smile that was a little too knowing for your comfort. "I can't say that I know." Hani was beside herself with giggles. Loki removed your hand and turned, looking at other stalls. "Hmm. Who else might we ask?" "No!" You hissed, tugging his arm. "Stop!" "Darling, I'm just trying to get to the bottom of this. I do love a mystery." You sighed in frustration. "Come on. Not here at the market. You're going to start rumors about me." His eyebrows raised. "Oh, so the topic is open for discussion elsewhere?" You winced. There was no choice but to step into the grave you had dug. "Yes. Fine. Just no more talk here with half the town around." "You have my word." His smile was victorious. You settled into defeat.

A weight rested in your chest as you went about your business. How could you have been so careless? You were so conscientious when you were talking to Loki. You were very aware of topics to avoid and you were sure to word things around the truth. The failing, of course, was that you hadn't been talking to Loki. You cringed, replaying the moment again in your mind. It was so obvious in hindsight. You should have paid more attention. You should have responded differently when Loki brought it up. A hundred solutions came to mind now.

Nevermind it. It's over now. Nothing to be done. You glanced at Loki, he was helping someone choose a mug. You didn't want to lose this. How would you get by without him now? Maybe, maybe he wouldn't leave. Maybe he would just mercilessly mock you for it. Maybe it would even be fun for him. You could deal with that. Something in you doubted that's how this would play out. You had a little time, at least. You knew he would keep his word, he wouldn't bring it up again at the market. Maybe if you were lucky he wouldn't mention it again today. But he wouldn't forget it. He would ask about it soon. You tried to carry on and enjoy the time with him that you had, but a dark cloud settled over your heart and hung there for the rest of the day.

****

No good could come of it, this he knew. Still, he had to know who it was. Something inside him drove incessantly forward after the idea. Outwardly, he performed as he would on any other day at the market. He laughed with you and helped as needed. Inwardly, he was tied in knots. Who had stolen your heart? Did he know them? Were they worthy of your attention? Almost certainly not. It was hard to imagine a mortal that could be. Then again, it might not be a mortal at all. You were thoroughly embedded in the community of New Asgard, any number of Æsir might have caught your eye. None immediately came to mind as someone you mentioned more than others, which led him back to the local humans. His mind drifted to the man behind the counter at the cafe. You never mentioned him either, but he stood out in Loki's mind as someone with clear intentions toward you.

He wondered how this had slipped past him. How could such a significant part of your life have gone unnoticed? There should have been some clue. Perhaps there had been. Perhaps he only saw what he wanted to.

As promised, he did not prod you any further at the market. After the lie and its revelation you weren't quite yourself, which brought him to another train of thought. Why wouldn't you tell him who it was? Was it something you were ashamed of? Was it someone you felt he wouldn't approve? And if you were to name this person, what then? What would change? He certainly couldn't do anything about it. He couldn't announce his feelings and ask you to forget yours. He couldn't take that away from you. You deserved this sort of happiness, and he wished it for you. Knowing who it was wouldn't change anything. Perhaps he just needed a target at which to direct his envy.

An alarming thought occurred to him: perhaps you wouldn't tell him who it was because you were aware of his feelings, and feared he would retaliate against your lover. This put a lump in his throat and he prayed to the Norns that it wasn't the case. The only thing he could currently imagine as worse than someone else holding your heart is the thought that you knew he wanted to hold it instead. Humiliation atop devastation. Perhaps your assumption of his reaction wouldn't be wrong. He found it difficult to imagine himself being friendly with the one who owned your affections. It was petty, he knew, but he doubted he could change that part of himself.

He briefly cursed himself for not telling you sooner how he felt. Perhaps all of this misery could have been avoided. He soon shook the thought away. It likely wouldn't have changed anything. This had progressed to the point where the truth was that this person had stolen your heart. This likely began long before he had even recognized the stirrings of his own feelings. Perhaps before he even met you. It was better he hadn't said anything. There was a chance he could keep your friendship, try to be happy for you.

Still, he needed to know who it was.

The wagon was well outside of town, trundling along the road to your home. Loki had his arm stretched across the back of the seat and his feet were propped on the dashboard. For all appearances he was casually relaxed, though his insides were wound tight. You appeared similarly calm, if slightly glum.

He examined his fingers and kept his tone light. "So, about this thief of your heart..." You groaned and slumped forward. "Loki, can't you let it go? Is it really that important?" "I can think of few things more important." He stated plainly. "I would think a god would have more serious things to worry about than mortals' love lives." He smirked. "I respect your ploy but it won't work." He gestured to the open landscape. "We're no longer at the market. Tell me who it is." You shook your head. "No, thank you." "Is it that boy at the cafe?" You looked at him quizzically. "Who?" "At the cafe, the boy behind the counter." Your brow creased with thought. "Johan?" "I suppose that could be his name." You laughed. "Why would it be him?" "He is clearly carrying a torch for you." You chuckled again. "I think you're mistaken." "I am certain I'm not." You shook your head. "It's not Johan."

It was true. Loki felt a sense of relief but still frowned. That had been his most likely suspect. "Lukas, then? From the woodworking stall?" "It's not Lukas." He thought for a moment, then feigned a scandalized gasp. "It's not Khadija, is it? She's married!" You rolled your eyes. "You know it's not Khadija." He shrugged. "Infidelity seemed a likely reason why you might be so guarded about the subject." "I just don't see how it's any of your business." He narrowed his eyes. "That was a lie." You huffed and hunched forward in your seat. "Very well. Next candidate...."

As the horse drew the wagon onward Loki offered the name of every human he could think of, each met with an honest denial from you. He had exhausted his list of mortals just as the farm came into view, and had named most of the Æsir as well by the time he had helped you unharness Breidr.

"Perhaps Sven?" He stroked Breidr's neck, leaning forward to speak to the horse. "What say you? Sven is a handsome enough fellow, isn't he?" The horse seemed entirely disinterested in the conversation, plodding forward into the field to graze. Loki followed you as you carried the equipment into the stable. "Is it Thor?" "Yes, it's Thor." You said flatly as you stepped into the tack room.

He knew it was a lie, of course, but that didn't stop his stomach from dropping like a stone when he heard it. The thought that you were in love with his golden brother was more than he could bear. It wasn't true. Of course it wasn't true. He recovered quickly enough, painting on a smile by the time you exited the stable. "Hah. I know that even you couldn't have such poor taste." "Well I wouldn't be the first mortal to succumb to his charms, right?" "The poor girl wasn't well in the head, I'm sure." "I heard she was really smart. Didn't she-" He held up a finger. "You are trying to change the subject." You frowned and stomped across the grass to your cottage. "Could it be the Valkyrie?" "Do you think she'd have me?" You swooned wistfully as you stepped through your back door. "Ah, so I've found it." He closed the door with an air of triumph. You rolled your eyes. "It's not Val. Why are you pushing this so hard?" "Why does anyone seek an answer that eludes them? Why do your people probe the distant stars or the depths of the ocean?" "I'm not a galaxy or an ocean." You mumbled. You were shifting items around in the kitchen now, Loki couldn't determine why. "You are no less full of wonder." He said quietly, leaning forward on your table. He worried the frayed corner of a towel, and spoke louder as he addressed you. "I still don't understand why you wish to conceal this from me." "Because you don't need to know!" You muttered. He returned his attention to the towel, pulling a thread free from its neighbors. "Darling, this is getting a bit ridiculous. I would say you know me quite well by now. You know that I will get to the bottom of this. Why not end this frustration and simply tell me now? I will find the answer eventually."

He looked up at you and was taken aback. You had your arms braced on the counter, your head hung. Your eyes were closed and your face was tight. You looked miserable. Guilt washed over him. He straightened and started to tell you to forget the entire mess when your voice interrupted.

"It's you."

Loki froze. "What?"

"It's you, okay?" You lifted your head but didn't look at him. "I've got feelings for you that are more than friendly and I'm sorry and it doesn't matter. It's stupid and I've known it's stupid and it really doesn't have to change anything." Your eyes looked anywhere but his direction, wringing your hands. "But I understand if you're uncomfortable and you don't want to be friends anymore. I just... I was trying to keep it to myself. And I can keep it to myself. It doesn't have to mean anything." You closed your eyes and took a breath. "And I know, I know this is the part where you call me a 'foolish mortal' or something and make fun of me. And that's fine, really. I just... don't want anything to change."

Your rambling finally came to a stop, you were still and quiet. You looked small, with your arms folded over yourself, staring at your countertop. Loki stood and stared as his mind caught up with your words. It was him. The answer he would never have dared to hope for. The most impossible answer. Your heart belonged to him.

A weightlessness filled him, and he breathed a laugh. Loki saw you wince, but it was no matter. Finally, this was a hurt that he could heal. He crossed the room to you and you tried to shrink away from him but he caught you, bringing his hands up to cup your face. His eyes were soft as you looked up at him at last.

He smiled a gentle smile and spoke with every tenderness. "Foolish mortal."

He waited as your expression eventually shifted from confusion to realization, then he finally brought his lips to yours. The urgency in your response, the way he felt your fists tangle in his shirt, removed any remnant of uncertainty and he pulled you closer into him. He couldn't be sure how much time had passed before he finally broke away from you. He didn't go far--he couldn't, you still clutched his shirt--and simply hovered close with his arms around you.

You took a moment to compose yourself before looking up at him. "I don't understand." "Really? I thought I had made myself clear. Allow me to try again..." With a smirk, he leaned in to kiss you again. You laughed and pushed him back. "No! I mean, me? I'm... I'm just...." He tutted, trailing a finger along your jaw. "Oh, my little bird. You are never just anything." "I'm human." "I can forgive that." He cut off your laugh with another kiss, and relished the feeling of your arms finding their way around his neck. You pulled yourself closer this time, and Loki wondered if he could ever be compelled to draw himself away from this. Perhaps he wouldn't have to. Your eager touch, your quiet breaths, these might be enough to sustain him for eternity. He was willing to try, but wasn't given the opportunity. You pulled back with a sigh, and lay your head against his shoulder while your hands snaked around his waist.

"This isn't a trick, right?" He might have been hurt, had it not been clear you weren't serious. He smiled. "Certainly not." "This is... a lot." He rested his head against yours. "It has been a taxing day." You scoffed. "Yeah, for me. I've been given the third degree." "How do you think it was for me? I was turning over every stone and coming up with nothing." You chuckled, then. "You ran through two towns' worth of people and never guessed yourself." "Oh, I would never have assumed I was worthy of your affections." You looked up at him, incredulous. "And Johan was?" He shook his head. "No, of course not, but the boy clearly has an interest. I thought it might be requited." "You're imagining things." "I will prove it." He pointed to the door. "Let us go down the cafe right now." You rolled your eyes. "No. I am hungry, though."

Rather than sit at the table, you brought the dishes to the couch and the two of you sat close while you ate. As soon as dinner was set aside his arms were around you again, he didn't see the sense in waiting. He had kept himself waiting so long already. You responded by maneuvering yourself until your legs were draped across his lap. What pleased him the most, perhaps, was how little felt different. Your hands found his and conversation carried on as it typically did. Everything had changed, certainly, but when he held you it felt like the most natural thing in the world. As if the two of you had done this every night for all your lives.

"Did you ever think I knew?" You looked up at him curiously. "Only today, for the most part. Though there were a few other occasions when I considered the way you avoided the topic of romance, and thought you might be doing so to spare my feelings." You nodded. "That week when you stopped talking to me, I was sure you had figured it out." Loki grimaced. "Yes, that was... a misguided attempt at quelling my own feelings." You did not look impressed. "That was stupid." "I did say it was misguided." "No, it was stupid." He chuckled. "I will concede the point."

You jumped when he suddenly gasped and gripped you tightly. "I've only just realized...." "What!?" He was smirking now. "The day we met." You narrowed your eyes. "Yes...?" "It's no wonder you were so flustered." You groaned. "Loki." "You must have been so overwhelmed, struck as you were by your desire for me." He held you firmly in his lap as you began squirming to get away. You muttered through gritted teeth. "You are the most irritating-" He was thrilled by your efforts to escape, grinning. "Poor little mortal. It's a wonder you stood upright in my presence. Your constitution is truly commendable." "I take it all back!" You were now wriggling and clawing for purchase on the couch. "I don't love you at all!" Loki stilled, his hands still holding you in place. You didn't seem to notice and continued your fruitless struggle. "Did you say you love me?" "No! Weren't you listening? I said-" He reached out to turn your face in his direction, when you saw his expression you stopped. Your faux-scowl gave way to a soft smile. You brought your hands up to cradle his face. "I thought we had covered this." He pressed his forehead to yours and closed his eyes. "Not in so many words."

He sat with you like this for some time, heads bent together and speaking softly. A conversation of quiet promises and whispered devotions. The night grew late, and then later still. Both of you found that you didn't feel like parting, so it was decided that you wouldn't. Loki settled into your bed and you joined him, curling close against his side. He pressed a kiss to your forehead and as he began to drift off to sleep his mind wandered back to that first peaceful dream he had of you, all those months ago.

It did not compare.

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dearly-dreaming · 2 years

Text

•𝐓𝐎 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏 𝐀 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆•

Title: To worship a king.

Pairing: Dream of the Endless x fem!dream!reader.

Word count: 8003.

Warnings: Smut(18+ only - minors don’t interact) Oral (Male and fem receiving) unprotected sex(Remember to be safe!) Hair pulling, mentions of throat fucking, a little bit of angst and fluff.

Summary: You were Morpheus’ greatest creation and then you strayed from your purpose. You’re separated for a century and suddenly anger makes way for something else.

Author’s note: My first smut!!! Please tell me what you all think and if I should do more! I hope you enjoy and remember the gif isn’t mine!!!

•𝐓𝐎 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏 𝐀 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆•

18+ Only. Minors do not interact!

You were lustful, Morpheus had made you that way.

He made you for the dreamers that dreamt of fantasies so intimate or seemingly impossible that they could only live them within their sleep. He made you to be passionate, sensual and intense. He made you with the ability to see one's wants and pleasures.

You were lustful and you were content with that knowledge. You enjoyed travelling through dreams and partaking in the pleasure humans felt so strongly, you enjoyed the euphoria and ecstasy of sex.

In the beginning, anyway.

You adored being able to pick up only any wants and desires, you relished in your experience and you prided yourself in the way you would leave dreamers gasping and missing some foreign touch when they woke.

But you soon realised lust and love were two sides of the same coin.

Especially when you discovered you were in love with your creator, your king, Morpheus.

It was a slow process. You doubted you would have figured it out if you hadn't watched those who dreamed of love, an entirely different intimacy than you were used to. You saw their dreams of lovers and crushes and with sly words from a certain golden-eyed being, you realised you acted much the same.

You always longed to be beside your king, to impress him and have him look at you with those proud eyes. You wanted him to tell you things only you knew. You wanted to know his mind and body in a way no one else did. You wanted him to love in a way no one else did.

Though, of course, you knew your feelings were foolish. Unrequited was the word.

You were just his creation, after all.

So you silently stood by as your king took other lovers, Nada and Calliope for example, and you stood by his side as all of those relationships ended in tragedy. You never said a word, hiding away your jealousy so deep that he could never sense it.

It went that way for centuries, millennia, aeons.

You thought your feelings would crumble, how terribly wrong you were.

They only grew and grew and your longed and longed. You just wanted him to look at you, stare into your soul and make his home there. You just wanted to be loved the way that mortals were loved.

Was that so much to ask?"

At some point, it had begun to get too much and you took to avoiding your master whenever you could, biting your tongue when you were forced to be beside him.

You just wanted affection.

The type mortals had when they danced under the stars and kissed on their wedding days. You wanted to be loved unconditionally, to have someone stand by your side just as you had done with Morpheus all this time.

And with some words from another one of Dream's proudest creations - The Corinthian- who also wanted to experience humanity. You decided you would.

You needed to.

You would break if you didn't.

It had worked for the first six months. You had met a charming human by the name of James Calton and you were taken by him in an instant. He was kind and thoughtful and pushed Morpheus to the very back of your mind.

It was wonderful, he treated you like a queen, kissed you tenderly, and always wrapped an arm around you when you laid in bed together, bare and peaceful.

You were in bliss.

And then it all came crashing down.

You had been skilful in your secrecy, telling your king you were needed by some other dreamfolk but never specifying who. You made sure to run errands and do chores to make it seem truthful, deepening the lie.

Then one fateful day, Morpheus had decided to change his schedule -something you always worked around - and went to library, where you said you were working. He couldn't find you, so naturally he asked Lucienne and she said you weren't there. He went to find you.

You had been seeing James off to work.

"I'll see you later, dear," You smiled sweetly, the ribbon he had tried in your hair whipping in the wind.

"Aren't you forgetting something?"James grinned softly, patting his lips.

You laughed, blissfully unaware as you pressed your lips to his, relishing in contentment. This is what love was.

"Goodbye, my love," He hummed gently, slipping into his car and driving off.

Then, you turned.

And your heart stopped.

Morpheus was standing a little ways behind you, face darker than you'd ever seen it. He was furious, enraged, it burned in his eyes, searing. He took a step closer and you knew your punishment was imminent.

You ran.

You knew it would only make him angrier but you were terrified, you didn't want to die. You didn't want to be banished into the darkness, or thrown into hell like Nada.

The shadows distorted.

You sprinted as fast as you could, heart thundering, chest heaving.

You darted around a corner but he was already waiting for you.

A cry was wretched from your lips.

A flurry of sand surrounded you like chains, tethering you to your excution. You knew he was taking you back to the Dreaming. You would never see James again.

It was worth it, you couldn't help but think, at least you knew what love felt like.

When the cutting sand cleared you were in the throne room. Morpheus stood before the steps leading to his throne, eyes glitning, demanding you got your knees and begged for mercy.

You clenched your hands as his pericing glare snatched onto your skin, burning. You tightened your jaw, you would not speak first, you refused.

You didn't need to.

Morpheus glared at you, voice harmfully sharp, "Prancing around with humans?"

You flinched at his condescending lily, waiting for him to continue.

He did, "Why?" His voice was brutal and you remained silent, "Answer me."

You could not resist his imposing command, "I..."

He glared, stepping closer, "You what?"

You shuddered, taking a deep breath as you forced yourself to meet his eyes, "I wanted to know what love was like."

His nostrils flared, and his eyes narrowed into slits, darkening monsterously. He spoke slowly, danger rippling in his voice, "Love? You wanted to know what love was like? You are a creature of lust and lust only."

It was your turn to glare, "Why can't I be more!? Why can't I be allowed to love and want affection!? To wake up to someone every day!? To spend the rest of my life with someone who shippers to my soul!? Why am I not allowed to be something more than lust!?"

You were screaming now, breath ragged as you stepped forward, almost chest to chest with Dream, finger pointed, glower painted across your face.

You had already dug your grave, why not make it deeper?

"Come on, Dream King, answer me that," You hissed, barely realising how close you were.

Morpheus glowered down at you, words coming out as a snarl, "Remember your place."

"My place!?" You barked a rueful laugh, "My place has been beside you since the beginning! I was created before this realm! I have been with you through it all, not only have I doubted you or left your side, entirely loyal! And you want me to remember my place!?"

Tears were beginning to spring to your eyes.

Remember your place.

No, you refused to accept that, "I have stood next to you through all of your desicions and you will not allow me the joy of love!?"

"How dare you?" He snarled, "The joy of love? You know nothing of love, y/n."

You huffed, "Oh, really, Dream King?"

You draped to step closer, chest flush against his, faces mere inches apart. His breath fanned your face, and god's, how you had imagined being this close to him.

He did say anything, rage flaring furiously.

Grabbing his hand, you pressed it to your chest, where your heat beat erratically. You were far too gone now, might as well finally tell the truth.

You breathed, chest heaving harshly, "You created me. I am as connected to you as you are me. Can you feel it? The way I burn for every part of you."

His eyes flickered down to your chest, fixated on where his hand was pressed against it, feeling the intensity of your emotions. The longing, the desire, the passion and the love.

He clenched his jaw, wrenching his hand away as he forced out the word, "No."

Few could understand the Dream King's emotions and you were one of them.

"Liar," You spit.

And then you did the stupidest thing you had ever done.

You kissed Dream of the Endless.

You yanked him down by his coat, pressing your lips to his. Passionate was an understatement. His lips were soft, tasting faintly of berries and you found yourself wondering what the rest of him tasted like.

If this was your last moment, you were glad you finally knew what it was like to kiss him.

You expected him to push you away and banish you into the darkness.

Instead, he gripped your jaw, pressing your lips closer to his. His pace was bruising, the intensity of his kiss was burning. It was delicious and you welcomed the heat without hesitation.

You pressed closer still, groaning into the kiss when his other hand came to clutch at your neck. It kept you in the position he wanted as he slotted his leg between yours, something hard pressing against you.

A gasp.

You felt him smirk against your lips as he jutted his leg again, smug bastard.

His kiss made you dizzy with desire, intoxicated you. Dream consumed you in everything that he was, his bruising passion, his relentless onslaught of hypnotic kisses, his teasing brutality as he bit your lip.

Shit, why had you waited so long to do this.

Finally, he seemed to realise what he was doing and halted. His eyes were wide, pupils blown as gasped for are. His grip on your jaw and neck didn't loosen, in fact, they tightened deliciously.

Your chest heaved in time with his.

The words slipped from your tounge, "Are you sure you don't feel it, Morpheus?"

His eyes ignited and you knew his earlier rage just flickered back to life.

Never challenge Dream of the Endless.

But you refused to let him have the last word, even if meant furthering his anger.

So, you snapped forward, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips before pulling away.

There was a sway in your hips as you turned, sauntering toward the imposing doors, lips bruised and blushing. Smugness filled your veins as the king made no move to stop you, still in shock.

You relished in it. Someone had rendered Dream of the Endless silent for the first time. You grinned in pride.

Once you reache the doors you allowe dyour head to turn to look over your shoulders.

A smirk teased at your lips, words sharp and taunting, "No one else will be able to compare with me, Morpheus. No one."

And then you slipped away, leaving Morpheus wanting and arouses.

No one wounded the Dream King's pride and got away with it.

You knew that all too well.

Merely having delayed your punishment, you relished in your last moments of freedom because you knew once Dream got back with The Corinthian he would end you with ease.

But he never came back.

He and Jessamy went silent. You could only faintly sense her but it was like she could not sense you at all, the ability to travel through realms somehow ripped away from her. There was nothing you could do, you didn't know where she was.

The Dream weakened without it's master, walls began to crumble and everyone began to wither, their creator no longer fueling them with his power. Soon it fell to Lucienne and you to command the Dreaming, as best you could.

Neither of you gave up, search parties were sent out. Saint's, you had even tried to find Death and ask for her help. Nothing worked. And ten years into it, you felt it.

Jessamy had died.

That was when most gave up, if one of Dream's most trusted companions was dead then he was far beyond any sort of reach.

Then, with no one to control them, the nightmares ran rampant.

Some had run to Delirum's realm, she did love dreams, after all. Others went to Asgard or the Fae realm. Lots fled to the Waking World and you went with them.

You were terrified they would be harmed, unknowing of humanity's violence and the other creatures that roamed. You helped them settle, protected them and taught them, you spent most of your time doing it.

Perhaps as a distraction, the Dreaming was falling to pieces and there was nothing you could do. The truth of that fact settled in the day you had gone to visit your dear friend and she ran into your arms, sniffling.

Her library was gone.

It remained that way for over a century. Then, one day, there was a title on a newspaper that made you freeze.

Sleeping beauty wakes up.

The King was back.

And most ran back to the Dreaming without hesitation. Yes, they had grown comfortable in the Waking World but they had to hide who they really were. The Dreaminf was home and the thought of home was wonderful.

One dream, Daphe, had said to come with them, that once Dream had heard of how you helped them and protected them he would spare you. You laughed and shook your head.

You were going to be punished for involving yourself with humans. You were going to stay here until the end, head held high and true to your desire for love.

You were going to die so why not go out with a bang?

Literally.

You spent almost every night this month at a different night club, taking different people home, sometimes multiple at once. You were being what Dream had made you to be, lustful. He could not blame you for following your sole purpose.

That led you to now.

The lights were bright against the dark shadows, the smell of sweat, alcohol and sex familiar to you as you danced in the crowd. You were having the time of your life, grinding against random men and women, kissing in dark corners and participating in body shots.

Then, you saw it.

A raven, watching you from the window, flying away when it knew you caught it.

Morpheus was close, then.

You sighed, and wormed your way out of the crowd, twisting around the bodies pressed together slowly. The cold night air struck your skin smoothly. You shivered slightly, perhaps it wasn't the best idea to wear a dress with a plunging v-line made from a flimsy fabric that barely covered the curve of your arse.

Too late now.

"Who are you, cause I know you're not Jessamy," Your voice was calm, light and uncaring, hiding the truth well.

The raven flew down, settling on the wall beside you awkwardly, not used to the wings, "I'm Matthew. How did you know I wasn't Jessamy."

You snorted, "Because she's dead," Then a fond smile slipped onto her face, "And because she wouldn't fly away when she'd been caught, she'd just stare you down, almost as intimidating as the king himself."

"I see," Matthew hummed, "You and she were close weren't you?"

Yes, you were.

Ignoring the burn in your eyes, you lifted your head to the twinkling sky, "He's coming for me, isn't he?"

He paused, "Yes..."

Your shoulders dropped, "Alright,"

And then you began to walk away.

"Hey! Where are you going!? If you run it'll just make it worse! The dreams don't want you to die! Not Merv or Gault or Lucienne or the brothers! They want you to live with them!" Matthew cried.

You laughed then, "It's not running when he already knows where I am. I just need to do something before I am punished."

The raven didn't respond but you felt his eyes on you as you called for a taxi, telling the driver the address to your luxurious flat.

When you finally got to said flat you almost flinched at the silence. You almost allowed yourself to break down into tears, everything you had done, learnt and lived for would be snatched away.

But you would not leave those you had come to leave wonder where you had gone.

Cathy would be the first, she always forgot to buy something at the shops and came knocking to see if you had it. Sam would be next, the cheeky bastard bored and asking you out for a good time. Amelia would be last. Oh, dear Amelia. She was your favourite, king and thoughtful but always ready to call you out on your bullshit.

Your hands shook as you wrote the letters someone would eventually find, pressing a kiss to each of them. You silently wished that they got everything and anything they wanted in life.

Then, your poured yourself a glass of wine and stared out the window, waiting.

And then, you felt it.

He was silent, pulling at your soul just like he always did as he appeared in your flat, presence as strong and dominating as you remembered it.

You swallowed harshly, this was it.

You forced yourself to turn.

The breath was knocked out of your throat at the sight of him.

Gods, you had forgotten just how glorious he looked.

Chizzled chin, alabaster skin that would look perfect covered in scratches and hickeys, silver eyes so deep you could see the universe in them. he was demanding as a king should be but you noticed a difference. He had changed somehow...well-hidden was the haunted look in his eyes, the tenseness of his body and the quiver of his soul.

Your heart lept in your chest, wanting nothing more than to comfort as you did so many aeons before. When no one could see him and he could allow himself to relax with one of his oldest creations. When he was willing to rest his head in the crook of your neck and reveal his true feelings.

You spoke first, more of a whisper, really, "Morpheus."

His name felt heavenly on your tongue.

"Y/n," He murmured in response, voice deep and raspy, it rumbled with thunder and the heaviness of stars.

The silence was imposing. You couldn't bare it.

"Are you...?" You couldn't get the question out, your lips wouldn't let you, "How is the Dreaming?"

How is the Dreaming? How is Lucienne? How are you?

You knew he caught onto the silent message in your words, he always did, "The Dreaming is well. As you know I was gone for a long time but I have returned, stronger than I have been in aeons."

Your heart hammered against your chest, "I suppose I won't be getting a quick punishment, then."

He stilled, staring at you.

Then his eyes shifted to the side.

You followed his gaze. He was staring at the pictures on the wall, honouring the two people you had loved most.

This was going to make him angry.

Oh well.

You sighed gently, "That woman was called Eliza, we had a good relationship in the eighties before she realised I didn't age. The man was called Charles, I nearly married him. but..."

"But what?" He questioned sharply.

"But he wasn't you," You told him simply.

You were not ashamed, you would never be.

You loved Dream of the Endless.

But many had loved Morpheus and none had ever survived the flame of his passion or the fires that came with wounding his heart.

He did not respond, as prideful as ever. Not even bothering to acknowledge your confession or what happened the last time you were together.

Your lips prickled at the thought, they missed his lips on theirs.

You scoffed, "Why are you asking me questions? Is this some kind of scare tactic, to get me scared before you punish me?" You hissed, "Just fucking kill me."

His eyes darkened at the thought.

This was it.

Then he said something that shocked you to your very core.

"You are frightened of me," His words confused you.

Then a hollow laugh escaped your lips, "Of course I am! I know what happens to those who defy you. I know the fate that awaits me!"

"No. You do not," He didn't yell but it felt like he did.

You froze. At first, you thought your min was consoling you before you end or that it had already come. But it hadn't and you weren't dead.

Morpheus stared at you from the other side of the room, goldy features glimmering in the moonlight as he studied you intently. A shiver ran down your spine at his predatory gaze, arousal whispering in the back of your mind.

Gods, you wanted nothing more than to kiss him until his mark was all that was left on your lips.

"You're not going to kill me?" You gasped, carefully.

He nodded, "No. I will not do anything to you."

An elated laugh escaped your mouth, almost hysterical. Soul reeling in surprise. You sipped the rest of your wine, a smirk on your face as you sashayed forward, "When I am going to celebrate by having sex with the biggest orgy I can find."

You passed Dream.

His hand latched onto your wrist, firm as he forced you to still.

His words almost came out as a growl, "No."

"Here we go," You muttered, you were definitely treading down the wrong path but Dream had made you impulsive and who were you if not his greatest creation?

He stared down at you, gaze so heated you felt it in your chest, "I will not have you pleasuring mortals."

You glowered, "I'm being lustful. One second you're angry at me for wanting something more and the next your angry at me for doing what I was made to."

Morpheus' grip on your wrist loosened, only to tighten again as he spoke, "I am not angry at you. But I will not have mortals indulging themselves in all that is you."

"Why? Because I am nothing but a dream?" You snapped.

His gaze was piercing, words even more so, "Because you are my dream and mine alone.

You stared at him, wide-eyed. All words dying on your tongue.

"We will return to the Dreaming, "He told you not acknowledging his words.

You narrowed your eyes and wretched your arm from his grasp furiously, "No."

"No?" He spat.

Over a century had gone by and he was still surprised by how insolent you were. And by how strongly he reacted when you grew closer to him, the fabric of your dress seeming so easily tearable.

"No," You spoke firmly, "You can't just say that and brush it off. I won't let you."

Dream was quick to make your suspicion seem foolish as he scoffed lightly, forcing an offended expression onto his face. He glowered down at you, "Dreams should not indulge themselves with mortals. Your implication is wrong. You're wrong."

You huffed, daring to take a step closer, feeling the heat of his body welcoming you, "Really? Because I think..." You smiled slyly, feline eyes glinting, "You want to repeat what happened in the throne room. You want to grab my chin, kiss me so hard you leave bruises as you put your leg between mine, pressing closer and closer..."

You knew you were right. Not even the Dream Lord himself was immune to your powers. You felt it rippling off of him, waves of desire and want flowing over you deliciously. You wanted more.

He remained silent, glaring down at you as his nostrils flared, dark eyes shimmering dangerously. His jaw was clenched and his body tense, holding himself back.

He was Dream of the Endless, he would not be bested by one of his creations.

You grinned slyly, "You do..."

He glowered, "I am your king..."

"And a king deserves to be worshipped, does he not?"

You dropped to your knees.

Morpheus' chest heaved as he watched you, making no move to stop you, daring you, challenging you.

Well, the challenge was accepted.

Slowly, you trailed your hands up his legs, sliding them toward the buckle of his belt, never moving your eyes from his own. You paused for a moment, letting him take in the sight of you, kneeling before him, hands grasping his belt.

You were letting him decide if he wanted this.

He made no move to stop you.

You smirked.

Your hands made quick work of his belt, skilful as they moved swiftly. You relished in the clink of the metal clasp as it fell to the floor beside you, a sharp noise in the tense silence. Easily, you pulled down his slacks, a sultry look glimmering in your eyes.

He shivered against the cold of your nails as you gently scratched up his bare legs, teasing around the band of his underwear, tight around his quickly hardening dick.

You saw the look in his eyes, silently demanding you stop your teasing.

You obliged without hesitation.

Hooking your fingers around the band of his underwear you pulled it down, finally daring to break your gaze.

A sound you had no idea you could make slipped from your mouth, barely above a whisper as your eyes fixated on his dick. It was lengthy and thick, as dominating as the rest of him was.

You shivered in delight.

Slowly, you lifted your hand and glided it across his cock, memorised. A sound escaped Morpheus' lips and a fire ignited in your chest, you wanted to draw every sound he could possibly make out of him.

His eyes were dark, intense with want when you looked at him, containing to run your hand along his erection. You delighted in how his muscles spasmed, his entire body racing to your slightest touch.

If he reacted this way to your hand, how would he react to your mouth?

You needed to find out.

You refused to break eye contact as you opened your mouth slowly, lips parting delicately. You quickly guided his cock to your mouth, lips fitting around the tip smoothly.

Morpheus' hand gripped the marble counter, fixated on the way your lips wrapped so perfectly around him.

So very perfect.

You took more of him. Slowly swiping your tongue along the base of his length. He shivered against you, pressing further into you. You smirked, moving so that all of him was in your mouth. A quiet groan escaped his lips, pretty and pink.

You wanted more sounds, louder sounds.

You bobbed your head once, twice, before you only had the tip of him in your mouth, tongue swirling against it. He stared at you, wide-eyed, drunken on pleasure, waiting for you to move again.

But you wouldn't, you wanted to draw everything out of him.

He groaned softly, knowing so well what you wanted.

"More," He grunted, "Give me more, y/n."

You lifted away only to say, "Yes, my king."

And then you fit him into your mouth in one go.

Morpheus hissed.

Your pace was quick, tantalizing as your tongue ran along every sensitive part it could. You relished in the darkness in his eyes as he watched you take him so very well. The shakiness in his breath delighted you. The heave in his chest excited you.

Dream of the Endless was falling apart because of you and you alone.

One of his hands was gripping the counter, the other tense, unsure of where to go. Quickly, you grabbed it and guided it to your hair, staring up at Morpheus with a siren's eyes. And you were a siren, drawing him in, intoxicating him like you had been doing for aeons.

He let his hand rest there for a moment. Then you licked the underside of his dick and his hand tightened into a fist, yanking at your hair as he groaned, becoming breathless so very easily.

You moaned at the stinging sensation.

Morpheus gasped, whined, and bucked into your mouth.

His dark eyes shimmered, "Again."

You moaned around him again, and he bucked into you again.

You could see it, Morpheus was chasing his high, pleasure streaming strongly through his veins, desperation clawing at him for release. he was losing himself to pleasure, consumed by you.

You took your head away.

Morpheus' chest heaved, slight confusion breaking through the haze of desire. He did not dare say a word, waiting for you.

You smiled prettily.

"Do you want it?" You hummed, "My king."

A raspy groan escaped his throat, and his hand tightened its grip on your hair, hypnotized by all that was you.

Yes, the answer was.

He wanted it all.

He wanted you to pleasure him then he wanted to make you fall apart over and over again until you knew nothing but his name. Until it was the only thing you could say. Until your body only knew his touch.

He wanted your legs around him, whines falling free from your pretty mouth as he thrust into you, arms desperately clinging to his shoulders, gasping his name. Morpheus.

Fuck, he wanted that.

His voice was deep, intoxicating, as he yanked your hair, eyes dark, "I am your king and you will please me."

You shivered, he was ordering you.

"Yes sir," You were a dutiful subject and would give anything he so desired.

A sound akin to a growl tore from Morpheus' throat instantly. he bucked his hips, using you just how he wanted to, chasing his release. And, fuck, was he chasing it. He grew louder and louder, moans echoing in the quiet, making your core burn for him.

You bobbed your head fervently, desperate for your king to spill into your mouth, to still in his euphoria, sweat coating his skin. Gods, you wanted it.

"Yesyesyes..." He panted, midnight hair clinging to his forehead.

He was so close.

You groaned against him, eyes unable or willing to break contact.

The hand that had been gripping the counter come to your cheek, brushing against your brow as Morpheus gasped, "Keep going, my dream. Make your king cum. Make your king cum."

Oh, fuck.

His sharp breaths filled the air, almost overpowering the sound of your pretty lips sucking his cock.

Suddenly, he became breathless, the loudest groan you had ever heard flying from his lips.

And he was cumming. Hard. Harder than he ever had before.

his grip on your hair kept you from moving, not that you wanted to. You wanted every last drop, every part of him. Morpheus' head was thrown back, lips parted in a silent scream, eyes screwed closed.

Gently, your hands ran up and down his legs, slowly drawing him from his high.

His chest heaved again and slowly he looked down at you, eyes glimmering like blown stars. His grip on your hair loosened, his other hand tenderly stroking your temple. You leaned into it openly, you would always accept affection from him.

Slowly, you pulled away, letting his length fall from your mouth with a delicious pop, Dream following your every move. You refused to break eye contact as you swallowed.

His eyes widened, the hand tracing your face gliding toward your lips, silently demanding that you open them. You did so. A quiet gasp fell from his divine mouth, you had swallowed it all. His eyes shimmered.

"Did I please you, my king?" You questioned both teasingly and not.

And suddenly, Morpheus was yanking you up, not allowing you time to blink as were pressed against the cold, marble counter.

You barely had a chance to gasp before his lips were on yours.

You met him with equal desperation. Aeons of pining and a century apart mixing together. You had missed one another dearly, more so than either of you realised before now.

He bit your lip teasingly, tongue battling with yours for dominance that you easily gave up. It was easy to become undone for the King of Dreams and you'd do it whenever he wanted you to.

Your legs wrapped around his waist as you jumped onto the counter, pulling him flush against you as you continued to kiss his blushing lips, memorising his taste. Berries, just like the throne room.

You moaned into his mouth, one hand tangling itself in his soft hair and the other desperately gripping his shoulder, his very bare shoulder. You forced yourself to break the kiss for a mere moment and looked him up and down, all of his clothes were gone.

You felt him smirk against you.

You relished in it, whispering in his ear, "Now that's a trick I like. Clothes can be such a nuisance."

A raspy chuckle came from him, bright eyes dark, "Not in this case."

And then you felt his hands on your thighs, "Would you rather my fingers or my tongue?"

"Fuck..." You murmured, shivering, "I want both."

"Then you shall have both," He hummed and with startling ease, your underwear was ripped off and it went straight to your core, pulsing.

Teasingly, his fingers ran across your thighs, drawing closer and closer to the place you wanted him to touch you most. You arched into him, desperate.

A sly grin made its way onto his lips as he darted toward your neck, latching on with a fierce kiss. He'd litter your neck in marks, and the whole of creation would know you were his.

He did not allow a word to escape your lips, one of his fingers twirling around your clit and the other slipping into your soaked heat with ease.

"Morpheus!" You cried with a whine, bucking into his hand.

You felt him smirk against your skin and were suddenly reminded of your earlier thought. His moonlight skin would look even more delicious when it was covered in your marks.

You were quick to pepper kisses to his jaw than his neck and when you came to his ear you got a very interesting reaction indeed.

He tensed, a gasp escaping his lips.

You didn't hesitate to bite it, kissing it teasingly.

Morpheus retaliated. Another finger drove into you, curling and twisting so perfectly you could already feel your high call on the horizon.

And then, he pressed against that spot of nerves.

You moaned, gripping his hair tighter as your chest pressed flush against his, "There."

He lifted his head from your neck, eyes teasing as he pressed against that spot once more, watching in fascination as you whined, "There?"

He pressed against it again.

You cried out, "Yes! Right fucking there!" Your forehead fell against his, "You're going to make me cum."

Suddenly, he stopped. You gasped in upset.

He gazed at you, wonder-struck, he had created you and yet all of these expressions were new to him. He wanted to see all of the expressions you could make.

He slowly pulled his fingers away and up to his mouth, sucking your juices off of them. You watched, hypnotized. He groaned quietly at the taste of you on his tongue, desperate to have more.

He wanted more.

He needed more.

And he dropped to his knees.

"Morpheus!" You gasped in surprise.

Dream of the Endless never kneeled for anyone.

Your hand came to grip his milky-white arm. It was wrong for a being such as him to kneel before one of his creations, a mere fragment of his power.

His eyes shimmered, taking a softer shine as he felt your emotions course through him.

Gently, he lifted your hand, staring up at you intently, "You are far more than my creation, y/n. Far more," His voice dropped, "Now, please don't stop me again."

You shivered, hands coming to grip the counter.

Morpheus smirked, "So good for me."

Then, he hiked your legs over his slender shoulders. And, fuck, his face was framed so perfectly in between them. Dark hair was swept across his forehead, dark eyes glittering brighter than the universe, and dark desire painted his lips.

The king didn't hesitate.

His tongue licked a strip along your folds and you gasped. Bloody hell. His mouth came to tease around your clit, sucking and slurping, eliciting sounds unknown to you from your lips. Your legs closed tighter around his head, forcing his face closer to your heat.

You felt him smirk against you and you shivered. Eyes seared in amusement. Oh, how he loved the way you fell apart for him.

Suddenly, he delved in.

Skillful was his tongue as it caressed you, licking every sensitive spot it could as your taste spilt down his chin. He could care less. He relished in it. To him, you were greater than anything else, he would never tire of you, he would want you for all eternity.

He could imagine it now, his tongue making you writhe on his thrown as he pleasured you. His tongue igniting something in you as you struggled to keep quiet in the halls. His tongue making you cry out as you cum over and over again on his bed.

Those thoughts fueled him. His tongue moved faster, the slurping noise so sinful growing deliciously louder.

You yelped in delight rutting against his face.

He rose a brow and his arm came up to hold your hips down, forcing you still for him. You whined at his pace, you had never felt euphoria as strong as this.

Morpheus was a god, greater than a god and he was yours.

You could feel your release coming.

"You're so good," You just managed to gasp, fixated on him, "So, so good. I'm gonna cum. I'm gonna cum just for you, my king."

His eyes glinted.

He continued fervently. Whines spilt from your mouth like prayer as you grew further and further consumed by Morpheus. Fuck, the man knew how to use his tongue.

Your chest heaved, hands struggling to grip the counter as your body flooded with pleasure.

You were so close. So fucking close.

And then you were cumming.

The air was knocked out of you as your body shook with the strongest orgasm you had ever had. A broken whine fell from your lips as you fell apart against Morpheus, only aware of the delicious warmth of his body and the tantalizing chill of the counter.

The king, like a starving man, lapped up every drop of your release, almost cumming himself because of how divine you tasted on his tongue.

Softly, his hand came to clutch yours as he pulled you down from your high. Slowly, his tongue swirled around your heat, drawing you back into reality.

Through hooded eyes and a bleary mind, you gripped Morpheus' hand tighter, chest heaving as you stared down at him. His regal cheekbones glittered with the light of the moon, his eyes glimmered like galaxies, and his lips formed into a proud smirk as he admired his work.

A harsh kiss was pressed to your inner thigh, his teeth biting into your skin, marking you. You whined and a soft, caring kiss followed after.

"Come here...please..."You gasped breathlessly.

Morpheus followed your request without hesitation.

You sighed and your arms carefully came to wrap around his slender shoulders. He moved closer, the ridge of his nose brushing yours, gliding along your cheek as he swept some hair out of your face.

"I missed you," You whispered, almost hesitantly.

Morpheus' eyes fluttered closed, eyelashes like strands of the night sky as he murmured, "And I missed you," His forehead pressed against yours, "Come to the Dreaming with me."

It was a request, you realised. He was not ordering you.

"I will," You spoke softly.

Then you grinned mischievously, pressing closer to him.

Your lips found the shell of his ear, voice a tantalizing whisper, "Is that where you will have me?"

He shivered against you. Bright eyes darkening once more with lust, "I will have you everywhere. On my throne. Against the halls. In my chambers. But at this moment I cannot wait. I will have you here, now."

You giggled, "My bedroom's down the hall."

Morpheus smirked, hands coming down to tap your thighs, silently commanding you. You jumped up. His firm hands gripped your legs, pressing you as close to him as possible, groaning quietly in your ear.

And suddenly, it was impossible to be apart from him.

Your lips were acting fervently, pressing desperate kisses to his as he skilfully walked the two of you to your bed where he would ravish you entirely. Your lips attack his neck, playfully biting his ear as you sucked hickeys into his creamy white skin, the redness a beautiful contrast.

You were so consumed by kissing him and he, you, that neither of you realised you had made it to your bed. You fell onto it, Morpheus easily hovering over you with wonderous, intense eyes.

He looked godly. He looked perfect. He looked like your dream.

Your hand brushed his cheek, "You're beautiful."

His hand caught yours and he pressed the softest of kisses to your palm, "And you're enamouring."

Your heart fluttered. Your hands grasped his shoulders, slowly drifting along the curve of his collar-bones and then to the hardness of his chest.

He allowed you to feel him, slowly lowering himself to whisper, "I want your dress off, now."

"So demanding," You teased.

"I am a king," He rose a brow in response, hands easily gripping the hem of your dress and tugging it off your perfect body. As soon as your dream was thrown into a random corner, Dream's eyes darkened as he studied your body, entirely bare.

You smiled at his expression smugly, "You created all of this, Morpheus. Moulded me, shaped me, it's all yours."

"Yes, it is," He murmured, lips stealing a kiss from you, "And I will take it."

A fire burned in your stomach, igniting in your core as you stroked his length, hard once again. You lifted your head, lips brushing against his, "Then do it."

Morpheus' eyes darkened and with a speed only he possessed, your legs were hooked around his waist and he was hovering over you once more, caging you in his arms.

You shivered in delight.

He groaned lightly as one of his hands stroked his cock, easily lining it up with your burning heat, teasing you. You whined as his length ran across your folds, twirling around your clit, not yet filling you.

"Don't tease..." You gasped, desperate.

He smiled, amused, "Very well."

And the tip of his dick pressed into you.

You flung your head back, and a silent sound escaped your lips as your chest heaved. Fuck, if that's how his tip felt you couldn't wait to know what the rest of him felt like.

Your hands gripped the sheets, tight enough to tear them.

"Look at you," Morpheus' voice rumbled like lightning, "I've barely entered you and you're already a mess."

"Only for you," You mused, "Unless you would like me to tell you about my other--"

A whorish moan flood from your lips.

Your back arched.

Morpheus was inside. All of him.

A swear fell from his lips, an ancient language you know only faintly, and fuck, did it sound good. It was almost as good as how full you felt, how he stretched you so deliciously, how you fit him so fucking perfectly.

Morpheus' chest heaved as he reeled from the pleasure of having you squeeze around him, consuming him, taking him in a way no one else ever could.

Your hands flew to his shoulders, nails gripping his skin hard.

He shivered, fuck, he enjoyed that.

"Fuck me," Gasped, breathless, "Fuck me, Morpheus."

The god of a man chuckled above you, "Such a demanding little thing."

He didn't let you respond, bucking into you slowly, intensely.

You moaned, loudly.

"Now, now. You wouldn't want to disturb your neighbours, would you, my dream?" He ground against you, eyes glinting mischievously.

Your nails scratched up his back, eliciting a sound from him as you spoke, "I don't give two shits if they hear us, I just want you to fuck me."

"And I will," His voice was husky, deep with lust, "Until you know nothing but my name."

You didn't get a chance to respond to that. Dream's hips rutted deeply against yours, fucking into you perfectly. His thrusts were powerful, waves of pleasure shooting across you as he set his pace.

And fuck, it was brutal.

his body snapped against yours. Your headboard banged against the wall. You couldn't think of anything but him. He was relentless, fucking you so deeply the sound of slapping skin almost overpowered your moans.

You had never moaned so loud, body powerless against his body and will. You'd do whatever he wanted. Anything he wanted.

Morpheus' strong hands gripped your hips hard enough to leave bruises and you welcomed his mark on you. Your nails scraped along his back. Tangled themselves in his hair as you whined and moaned.

"No other being can make you feel the I way do," He hissed in your ear, a king, as he hammered into you, "No other being will ever be able to have you the way I do. No one."

You nodded feverishly as his body rocked against yours, "No one. Only you. Only fucking you."

"That's right, my dream. My y/n," Morpheus moaned, gripping your legs tighter, pulling you closer, fucking you deeper.

You wanted to speak but words could not escape your mouth. Whines fell from your lips instead, loud and free as you arched your back.

He was too good. Dream was a passionate lover and you fucking loved it.

"Possessive," You just managed to gasp.

"Entirely," He smirked breathlessly.

You could feel your high storming toward you, faster than any orgasm before and you chased it. You bucked against him, somehow managing to match his impossibly animalistic pace as he fucked into roughly.

Your hands desperately clutched his shoulders.

He lowered his body, pressing it flush against yours as he groaned against your skin, "Are you going to cum, my dream? Are you going to cum with your king? Are you going to cum with me?"

Oh, fuck yes.

You frantically nodded your head, "Inside."

The thought of him leaving you now almost made you want to cry. You wanted him inside of you, wanted him to still against you as his cock twitched and he cummed.

Morpheus groaned, "As you wish."

You whined as loud as possible, body wrapped tightly around him as he fucked you. He filled you so deliciously, so perfectly. No one else could ever compare. You were almost screaming in pleasure now, consumed by your king.

You were on the verge, so very close.

"Morpheus," You whimpered.

Morpheus' head burrowed into the crook of your neck, lips flush against your skin as he panted a mantra, "Mine."

Your head pressed against his neck in response, lips brushing over the shell of his ear, "Yours. All fucking yours. Just like your mine."

He nodded erratically, barely able to collect a thought, drunken on the pleasure you gave him. So strong and unlike anything he had ever felt before, he was addicted.

His breaths were shallow, "Yours. All yours."

His hips canted against yours, both of you desperately chasing the releases that were riding toward you. He fucked you ferally, pace bruising and grips even more so, you loved it.

So close.

You pressed feverish kisses to his skin, gasping breathless breaths.

So, so close.

His face buried into your neck, moan wrenching from his lips.

And you shattered.

Your mouth opened into a scream of his name, "Morpheus!"

Your orgasm ripped through you. Stronger than anything before. Better than anything before. Morpheus' cum filled you as he nested deep within, groan filling the air.

You were floating, disconnected from reality, only aware of Morpheus and his touch.

Your chest heaved. Eyes wide, blurry. Mind dizzy with ecstasy. The delirium of desire easily consumes you.

Morpheus' voice rang deeply in your ear, "I have you, my dream. I have you, y/n."

And he did have you, body flush against yours, one hand still gripping your hip as the other reached forward, pulling your hair out of your face as he tenderly placed his forehead against yours.

Slowly, you opened your eyes, meeting his intense ones. They shone like creation, burned with passion and seared with something deeper. Something much deeper.

Your breath hitched.

The only sounds between you were your heavy breaths.

Morpheus pressed his forehead further against yours, nose and lips brushing against yours as he stared at you deeply.

His words were soft, slow, almost hesitant.

"I love you, y/n."

Your heart warmed, an uncontrollable smile spreading across your face.

You giggled lightly, "And it only took you almost all of existence to say it."

His pout was adorable.

Your hand came to cup his cheek, lips almost flush against his, "And I love you, Morpheus."

He pressed his lips to yours fervently, two souls separated no longer, finding their homes within each other, just like the fates decided it would be long ago. And Destiny, of course.

For the first time in a long time, Morpheus, the King of Dreams, Dream of the Endless was completely and utterly awake.

And he never wanted to be away from your side again.

Tags:

@kisses4kitty @kittycatcait219 @we-love-our-bandz

#dream of the endless #fanfic #morpheus x reader #morpheus x y/n #the sandman #imagine #fanfiction #the sandman fanfic #fluff #morpheus smut #dream of the endless imagine #dream the endless x reader #the sandman imagine #the sandman x you #the sandman x reader

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wangxianficrecs · 1 month

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💙 These Mortal Treasures by ChilianXianzi

These Mortal Treasures

by ChilianXianzi

T, 9k, Wangxian

Summary: "Is that something that Wei Ying would like?" Lan Wangji asks softly, carefully, "To be kept?" There's that fleeting, lost look in Wei Ying's eyes once more, and Lan Wangji thinks it's unacceptable - That Wei Ying had not felt welcomed in his own home, so much so that he decided to wander the world away from it. So much so that he is afraid that he would be unwelcome as well elsewhere. Lan Wangji barely stops himself from hissing, from letting the steam of his icy breath escape in the close air between them. He only vaguely remembers the Jiangs, a young Cultivation Clan barely a century old, but his disdain towards them feels ancient now in the wake of all this. How foolish of them, to simply let go of someone so bright, someone so unfailingly kind and giving. How convenient, for Lan Wangji's own gain. Kay's comments: I adore this story. The excerpt that's in the summary already encapsulates perfectly what I adore so much about it, Lan Wangji's and Wei Wuxian's relationship in this one is *chef's kiss*. Dragon Lan Wangji watching mortal Wei Wuxian and making sure he feels safe and happy in his home and that he wants to become part of his hoard, being absolutely enraged at the thought that anyone hadn't treated Wei Wuxian as the treasure he is in the past and of course, egg!Yuan!! And eggnancy!! Love that for them and love Lan Wangji tearing the Jins a new one as well.

pov lan wangji, canon divergence, dragon lan wangji, rogue cultivator wei wuxian, wei wuxian leaves the yunmeng jiang sect, possessive lan wangji, domestic fluff, angst with a happy ending, cultivation sect politics, not jiang cheng friendly, mpreg, eggpreg, eggnancy, developing relationship, strangers to lovers

~*~

(Please REBLOG as a signal boost for this hard-working author if you like – or think others might like – this story.)

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torutorubaby · 2 months

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“...my place is... before you..”

tags: hierophilia; angst; kinda mindfuck?; sfw; worshipping; ambiguous ending;

mentions of: body and soul merging (?); blood; feminine pronouns

author's note: if you can't tell already, i have no idea how to tag this. enjoy!! this is my first fic, so kinda rough but i hope you'll enjoy. feel free to drop any criticism/feedback or ideas/suggestions in the replies. <3 p.s i don't mind dropping versions with other pronouns so just lmk!!

She admired his face wordlessly as they, caressing his hair as she laid propped up against his chest.

Satoru opened one eye as he spoke with his signature arrogant smirk. His blindfold was off, folded neatly on the bedside table beside them.

“Careful now, sweetheart, you might start falling in love.”

She smiled bitter sweetly, looking away.

“A sweet smile and sad eyes, I know that look well." He spoke, using his index finger to lift her chin up and look at him.

"Would it be so bad if I did?" She asked unsurely, her head pressing back against his chest.

His smirk faded as he stared at her, he spoke softly.

“There’s nothing wrong with it, but I doubt you would be that foolish.”

“What if I was?” She looked to him for reassurance. They had been having this on and off 'relationship'.. if you could call it that going on for months now. She just.. wanted something. Anything.

He sighed a bit, his body stiffening as his arms untangled themselves from around her.

“I care for you as well, but you know that this can’t become more. With my status as the strongest there are expectations of me, I can’t be with just anyone.”

“Just anyone?”

That hurt. Is that all he thought of her?

“Right.. of course. I apologise.”

She spoke softly, getting up off the bed. Maybe it was time for her to leave now.

He looked up at her as she got up, his eyes were filled with regret as she moved away from him.

He cleared his throat as he sat up and spoke. “You know that’s not what I meant…”

“I.. it's okay. I get it. I'm not even a sorcerer so.. it makes sense. Not good enough for it I guess.” She whispered softly, putting on her clothes.

"Yeah.. I uh.. I get it." She nodded, fixing her hair in the mirror.

Gojo sighed yet again looking at her back, his voice was still cold.

“I think it might be better if you left…”

As he felt her pull away from him, his entire body tensed up. The thought of her leaving him, he already felt his heart beating fast and it was becoming even faster. He wanted to stop her, he wanted to beg her to stay but he couldn’t, not with anything he had right now. He took a deep breath as he watched her, his eyes were sad, and full of pain.

“..just.. don’t forget about me..”

“Will you visit me?” She asked, looking back at him one last time.

His heart skipped a beat, her sudden question left him flustered for a second. He looked up at her, his gaze was still filled with pain but this time, it was also full of longing.

“..I will.” He spoke softly.

She leaned up to kiss him one last time. Satoru could only think of one thing;

“What was the point of being the strongest if he could not use that strength and influence to love and cherish his dearest?”

Satoru channeled his pure, unbridled longing and need in that kiss. This wasn't sexual or just romantic, this was beyond any words. Fuck, it even hurt really bad as he bot down on her lips, pushing and pulling, drawing blood. It was need, pure need. Like he needed her to complete his soul, needed her in the air he breathed, needed her to be the infinity that lingered on his body all the time. It was divinity. The age old tale of a god falling for a mortal.

The kiss was like none other before. It was as if they were one. It was need, it was desperation, this was divinity. He felt as if she was the missing piece. The two of them fit together like puzzle pieces, her pure essence made him feel whole. He felt as if he could breathe again, as if she had brought life back into him. He was the honored one but right now.. he saw nothing else but her. She was his need, she was his life and she was his heart.

She was the opposite of him. He was strong, she was fragile. He was tough, she was delicate. He was divine, she was.. just a girl. At this very moment, though.. all the honoured one could think about was her. He wanted his soul to merge with her, his body to belong to hers, his smell to linger around hers... He needed her like a life needs water.

He had never felt this way before, he had never experienced anything of the sort. His need for her became greater, he wanted to be with her, spend every second of his time with her. This was beyond love, beyond desire, beyond obsession, this was divinity. The two of them were opposites but together they were two pieces of a whole, he needed her, his heart needed her. He craved her, he wanted her to be with him until the end of time. He was the honored one, but right now, she was his honour.

In the intimacy and privacy of their home, of their aloneness.. He was the worshipper, she was his god.

This was love.. this was their love. The two of them were opposites who became one. She was divinity to his honour, light to his darkness. This was more than the strongest warrior could ask for, to be with her in this intimate manner.. this was his heaven. He was a god, the strongest, the honored one but with her, he was just a man.. just like everyone else.. all because of her, all because he needed her.

All the emotions she gave him, the pure essence of her being was heaven to him. In a world where he stood atop all of it, he was able to be vulnerable to her. This was his weakness, this was his flaw, this was his secret that had been exposed. He felt as if she could take away everything from him and he would give it to her in an instant. He was the honoured one but just when he was with her.. he felt as if he was the weak and she was honoured.

He almost felt ashamed of the fact that he had fallen for a mortal woman. His entire existence was built around being strong, being the strongest, being honoured but with her.. he broke every single rule he had ever made. Without even thinking, he exposed his weaknesses and his flaws to her. He gave her his secrets and his emotions, she was the only one who had been able to break the unbreakable. He was the honoured one, the one who stood above all but with her, with her alone, they were just two normal people, he was just normal.. just a man.

Satoru kneeled before, looking up at her with utter devotion and yearning even more intensely than what all the people before him felt combined. He kissed her gracious hands, wordlessly offering himself and all that he had up to her.

He was a divine being, the highest existence and yet here he was. Kneeing before her, offering himself, and everything he had up to her. She had become his goddess, his divinity, his love. With his hands wrapped around her perfect hands, he kissed them. He continued to kneel as he looked up at her with intense love and longing. He was a strong god but with her, when he was with her, he was weak, she had become all that he knew the definition of. He worshipped her. He loved her...

She kneeled down to his level, seeming instantly smaller as she was.. Her small, delicate and gentle hands cupped his cheek, looking up at him with love and care.

“What are you doing, Satoru?” She asked softly, searching his eyes for any thoughts beyond the intensity of his emotions.

“..this is where I belong.” He spoke softly, the power in his voice was gone, replaced with a soft and calm tone. This was where he belonged, before her, he had no ego in his voice and no dominance. With her, he was nothing.

“..my place is.. before you.. with you.. wherever you may be.. that’s my place, with you..” His eyes were soft, he had no other thought at the moment except his overwhelming desire for her love as well as his devotion.

#jujutsu gojo #jujustu kaisen #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #jjk satoru #satorugojo #gojou satoru x reader #jujutsu satoru #hierophilia #divinity #worshipping #first fic #torutorubaby

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nerdpoe · 1 year

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Of Kindness and Empathy 5

First, Second, Third, Fourth, AO3

Discrimination Hidden in Fantastical Law?

Is our government taking away the rights of Metas by pretending they aren’t Metas at all?

Lois Lane . Daily Planet . Updated 15th of April 20XX

Recently brought to light, the Anti-Ecto Acts are rife with controversy. They appear to be centered on one young teenage Meta Hero, Phantom, and mandate reporting others ‘like him’ to the ‘correct authorities’ for mandatory study and testing.

But the definition of ‘like him’ is open ended, and under current interpretation even Superman or The Flash could fall under that. Is this another attempt by Lex Luthor? The answer may surprise many, but the answer to that is no.

The Laws appear to have been backed by a billionaire named Vlad Masters, who sells inventions oddly specific to tormenting the teenage meta trying to save his small town.

Why is Masters so against this child? What is the end-game of the Anti-Ecto Acts? Is this another attempt to enslave or discriminate against Metas?

We went to the scene of Phantom’s rise to Heroics and got the story from those who were there first-hand, and to potentially find answers for why Masters is behind those Acts.

“Oh, those laws are flim flam, and everybody knows it,” one concerned citizen is quoted as saying, who’s name will not be disclosed for their safety, “Boxy here is the best sorter I’ve ever had, my warehouse has never been so organized! Who cares if he floats a little?”

…

“Phantom is the best,” a local high school student said, “Better than Superman! I bet if they got in a fight Phantom would lay him out!”

…

“Oh, Phantom? No, I have no intention of turning in my co-Hero,” Red Huntress, the other town hero, said, “those laws were just passed because the government wants to make deadlier weapons, and Phantom and his species are pretty much power houses.”

…

The members of the so called ‘Ghost Investigation Ward’ stated that they had no comment.

…

The Drs. Fenton are the loudest proponents that Phantom is dangerous. However after sitting down with them and running through the Anti-Ecto Acts and how they affect other Metas, and that Phantom was likely just a Meta trying to help, they admit that perhaps they forgot the humanity required for science.

“We just want our baby boy and little princess to be safe,” Dr Jack Fenton said, “but I guess we got so caught up in it that we forgot about everything else. We do that a lot, just look at us, blathering on about ghosts. Hey, do you want to see a portal to another dimension?”

Down in the basement there is, indeed, a portal to another dimension. This reporter stood outside of it and, after they prepared their RV, took a small tour as well.

Which leads to even more questions for these laws. Are they meant to target aliens instead? Would this dimension attempt to go to war with ours for these Acts?

The Drs graciously allowed us to search for a ‘Ghost’ to ask.

“Our King is not bothered by weaklings such as you,” Ghost Entity ‘Fright Knight’ said, “Your foolish laws could not begin to interfere with our Realm. They are but an annoyance that you greatly exaggerate to feel that you are more important than you are. Leave, mortal, lest our patience wear thin.”

Other ‘Ghosts’ reported that their King was likely not to seek war at all, and was a more peaceful sort who tended to avoid conflict if it was unnecessary.

They did assure us, however, that he was fun to spar against.

We declined invitations to ‘test our mettle’.

“Baby Bop is a pretty great King,” Ghost Entity ‘Ember’ said, “He’s not all snobby or self-important, and he lets us govern ourselves pretty much. It’s actually pretty nice. You’d know if he was angry, don’t worry; he’d just crack your planet open like an egg.”

…

In conclusion, these Laws that were passed were done so by corruption and bribes. Why would the government need ‘deadlier’ weapons? Do they intend to go back on the many intergalactic treaties we have thanks to the Justice League?

Next issue, we at the Daily Planet will do a deeper dive to find the corrupted politicians responsible for passing such an Act.

@spooky-fm @markus209 @osnii @samgirl98 @skulld3mort-1fan @gabrielandjackthenephilim @suppengott @glow-worms-are-believers @zeldomnyo @everest-nightshade @learning-to-fly-on-my-own @spoopyspoony @deatlive @hnymp @latheevening226 @roseinbloom02 @tsukihimeyfan @arsonpotato @wanderingrutabaga @nanepet @bjurnberg @mentalcarebear @amuseofminds @fire-glass @thewondersoflebanon @ascetic-orange @botwadtict @notforyoucloudheads @idfk-man10 @leftmiraclechaos @midnightenigma

@dannyisababyking @oliocelottafanfics @redafi @distractedducky @aconitewolfsbane @onyxlightdragon @blankliferain @theywontletmeusetheoneiwant @thedragonqueen1998 @bitchydragonninja @u-a-wizard-jamie @dodekakophonie @ashenfairytale @reach-for-the-horizon @quirky-gardener @thegatorsgoose @sknerd101 @stargirl1331 @andreaissy @leap-ing @plotwholls

#dcxdp #dpxdc #dc x dp #dp x dc #phanfic #danny phantom #lois lane #daily planet #fright knight #ember (danny phantom)#vlad masters #maddie fenton #jack fenton

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contentloadingandstuff · 7 months

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Dark Days - Kujou Sara x Male!Reader

CW: Violence, reader death.

Sara still couldn't believe the change in her life. She always pictured herself (and was viewed as) stoic, unmoving, emotionless - a perfect subject of the Shogun, dedicated and committed to the cause. Rejecting all distractions - both petty and grand. After all, she decided to follow a path of absolute devotion to Eternity, in the face of which all mortal matters are infinitely small.

But love strikes without warning. It was just a few careful glances at first, but in a matter of a few years love bloomed between you and her into something more permanent, and you placed the ring on her finger on that fateful day. You shook her world, her views and her life to the core. Every night with you by her side, every gentle touch, every gentle kiss left her ascetic ideas dazed and reeling, until her perception of duty changed drastically. Sara understood that loyalty to the Shogunate is not as two-dimensional as she imagined it.

There is nothing to be gained from limiting herself so radically in the long run. More - love reinforces her resolve, pushing her to work twice as hard towards the safety of Inazuma, the safety of you. When she can drop her guard down and indulge herself with the love you shower her with daily, all doubts and fears are eradicated, letting her focus once again. A pillar to rely on provides her a safe, stable base to build her sense of comfort and security on.

Sara understood that she can serve in a different way too. She can defend Inazuma with every second of her life, every bit of strength, but hers or your life isn't eternal. The youth needs to take your place when the time comes - someone intelligent, sharp and full of energy. With the brains and talents you have, there is no doubt that your heir will be worthy of serving Inazuma, whichever area they will choose. Except for destroying as a general, Sara thinks that, as a woman, her duty is to build. Build a family that will serve the state and the Shogun beyond her lifespan, a bloodline that will be the pride of the country, and a shining example for others in terms of courage and merit of its members.

Even if she approaches her life mostly with stoic resolve, this thought never fails to rouse excitement in her. “Kujou” is a name of the past now. Finally she can build something for herself, something just yours and hers. A safe place to withdraw to, and a fire to stoke her resolve. It has been a few months since you started trying for a child, but Sara is patient. Her eagerness, though, is hard to contain. She has dreamed so long of this - to carry her child within herself, and then in her own arms. To see them smile, to make them laugh, to teach and to guide. To be the parent she herself never had.

But then the war came.

The Vision Hunt Decree came as a huge surprise for you two. Despite working in the second highest ring of authority, no drafts or warnings of this ever reached you. Still, Sara accepted it. If this is the wish of the Archon, then who is she, a foolish mortal, to disagree?

Quickly this controversial order turned into a civil war when Watatsumi Island refused to hand out their Visions. Sara understood this decision, yet it was her duty to enforce it. She trusted the Shogun with her life. After rallying the armies of the Tenryu Commission, she led them south through the island chain, and forward onto Watatsumi Island.

Unfortunately, with you by her side.

According to the law, every family under the jurisdiction of the Shogunate was to send out one male of fighting age to join the army. With no small effort, Sara was able to delay your draft. But a few weeks into the war proved that Watatsumi was not willing to back down; their resistance was fierce, and losses kept mounting. She could no longer bend her authority to shield you without risk of drawing attention. Doing what she could, Sara got you to fight in her regiment as an officer - the small glimmer of hope was that you were of noble blood, and thus could be granted the privilege of a commanding position and the personal protection that was provided by it.

Still, it brought no peace of mind to her. She knew what the reality was.

—

“Stay in formation!” You shout, looking at the battlefield through the small slit between your helmet and your broad shield. Three hundred paces away stands the enemy, with deadly spears and sturdy shields in hand.

They look almost identical to your men. Only the colors are different.

Though cold winds and biting rain falls upon you, you're sweating. You had to march, almost run to face the assault banner the enemy had fielded this morning. Stress builds up in your body as you move forward, your men following in your footsteps. There's one man on your left, one on your right, and one behind you - carrying the unit’s standard.

You steady your breath. Although the enemy is in clear view, you find comfort in the company of your subordinates. They have both the same fear and the same motivation. None of you want to die. For every one of them there's someone waiting back home, praying to the Sacred Sakura their husbands, fathers, brothers and lovers and friends return safely. But not for you. Your wife is here with you - standing safely behind two rows of infantry, keeping a careful watch over how the fighting will proceed. She will be fine and you know it. She's intelligent and capable in combat. She's strong.

Although officially you are to fight for the Shogunate, your motivation lies somewhere else. You are here to keep Sara safe by ensuring the line never breaks. At least not your regiment.

“Advance!” The commander of the unit behind you shouts, passing on Sara’s order. With all your might, you repeat the command.

“Advance!”

The slow step turns into a jog. The air is filled with the sounds of the many armors’ metallic clicking. Your heart speeds up when you spot a flock of thin, black lines in the sky.

You scream. “Arrows!”

Several other warnings resonate thought-out the ranks. You raise your shield in unison with your men, and lean forward to ensure your torso and legs are safe. The missiles fall harmlessly on your shield, but a few slide off of your back. Many land in front of you, impaled into the sands of Nazuchi Beach.

Just a few more moments and you'll be out of range. You speed up, and your men follow suit.

Unbeknownst to you, a single, Geo-infused arrow was high in the air, just a few seconds from impact.

Without warning, it hits the shield right above your forearm.

Without much trouble, the weighted shot passes through the wood as if it was one of the paper walls back home.

It punches through your armor and caves in your chest, knocking out all the air from your lungs, just as her kisses always did.

You stumble and spit blood from your butchered lungs. Your head spins and you fall back onto the sand, your spear falling from your grasp.

Your vision fades - not much is left of your heart, the one she valued so dearly.

Your body spasms and gargles for a moment, your warm, red blood staining the pale sand below you.

Two sets of arms grab your body, and drag it back behind the lines.

—

Your body, and the information of your passing, were withheld from Sara until the battle was over - by command of her lieutenant. Only when the dust settled and the broken forces of Watatsumi Island retreated was this news handed to her.

“What?” She says, her voice quite unsure. “Are you certain it's him? The vanguard is still cleaning up the remains of the resistance. This must be some sort of a misunderstanding?”

Her officers shift uneasily, and exchange anxious glances between each other. Sara stiffens, her expression turning stone cold.

Silence falls in the room. Sara blinks a few times, the thought rolling around in her mind. She nods once. Twice.

She lifts her hand to her mouth in an attempt to cover her trembling lips. Quickly, warm tears start making their way down her smooth features. She tries to rub them away with her hand, but fails to do so. She stifles a sob.

“Out.”

This single word is enough to make the men turn and leave as quick as they can. Sara just stands in place, looking around the tent with tears flowing from her golden eyes. Like a lost girl.

Lost. That's what she is. Lost.

She can't-

She stumbles to the nearest chair on trembling legs and plops down on it. Sara leans in. Her hands cover her face.

Words flood her mind. Single thoughts. That's all her mind is capable of.

Y/N.

You.

Husband.

Family.

Children.

Safety.

Comfort.

Happiness.

Love.

Life.

Her vision blurs, black spots dancing before her eyes. Her legs feel weak. Her arms feel weak. Her body, her entire being is weak.

Gone.

Trampled.

War.

She takes a shaky breath. Her hands, still bearing the golden ring you placed on her finger, climb up to her scalp. Her nails dig into her scalp, fingers grabbing and pulling at her hair in whatever spots they can reach. She's shuddering. Sara screams soundlessly, pulling out her own hair in helplessness.

Hell.

Thanks for reading.

#genshin impact #genshin #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x male reader #genshin impact x male reader #genshin impact angst #genshin angst #angst #genshin impact kujou sara #kujo sara #kujou sara x male reader #kujou sara #kujou sara angst #kujou sara x reader #kujou sara x you #kujou sara x y/n #reader death

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theostrophywife · 1 year

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the prince of hell | part two.

we might just get away with it, the altar is my hips even if it's a false god, we'd still worship this love

author's note: i have chosen violence today and i won't apologize for it. anyways, enjoy this soft fluff.

song inspiration: false god by taylor swift.

The underworld was nothing like you expected it to be.

It was a land of perpetual night, but it wasn’t the frightening unending darkness of nightmares, instead it was moonlight and constellations, twinkling stars and violet skies. Never in a million years would you have predicted hell to be dreamy.

But it was. Everything about the place was an absolute dream. None more so than the winged male carrying you in his arms.

The Prince of Hell smiled softly as he cut through the cumulus clouds, flying towards an enormous castle perched atop an obsidian mountain. The peaks glittered like dark diamonds, the gothic spires and turrets spearing through the endless night as you floated through the sea of stars. The moon shimmered overhead as Azriel landed on the open balcony.

Though his feet hit the chequerboard floor, Azriel made no move to release you from his grip. He merely continued carrying you through his home, past the moonstone walls and marble pillars, through countless rooms full of lavish furniture and extravagant paintings, and underneath a crystal chandelier that projected starlight onto the polished onyx floors.

You gaped in wonder as he slipped past mahogany doors and into a bedchamber with a four poster bed. The sheets felt like silk to the touch as he carefully set you down. Across the room, you stared at your bewildered expression through a gilded mirror, your hair wild and unbound, your wedding dress smeared with blood and ash.

Azriel’s brows furrowed in concern as he wiped a streak of dried blood from your cheek. “Are you sure you’re alright, my heart?” His fingers skirted over your hairline, brushing a stray strand behind your ear with surprising gentleness. “You’re shaking.”

You gave him a watery smile. “I’m fine. Just a little rattled, that’s all.”

“I won’t apologize for what I did to that mortal, but I am sorry if it frightened you. The way he spoke about you, the way he grabbed you—” he released a shaky breath as if the memory still stoked his anger. “I wanted to do more than just rip out his wretched heart.”

You grabbed his hand and squeezed in reassurance. “You saved me.” Honey eyes dawned on you like sunset, disbelief dancing in Azriel’s gaze as though no one has ever said such a thing to him. “You saved me and I owe you my life.”

“You owe me nothing,” Azriel declared with determination. “You will never owe anyone anything ever again.”

Those words released another floodgate of tears. As the Prince of Hell cradled you in his arms, his soft voice a soothing lullaby in your ears, the realization that you were free—truly free slammed into you. You didn’t know how long you stayed like that, maybe minutes, maybe hours, but what you did know was that Azriel was a refuge in the storm.

As he had been in your dreams for far longer than you could remember.

“I thought I’d dreamt you up,” you said, looking up at this stranger who really wasn’t a stranger at all. “How are you real?”

There was something about the way those golden eyes softened that made your heart leap in your chest. Azriel brushed a tear away and took a deep breath. “Once upon a time, there was a raven with a broken wing. It searched high and wide for shelter, but because of its injuries, the raven couldn’t fly very far. One day it landed in the countryside, half-frozen and half-starved, where a girl found it buried amongst the snowbanks. The girl took pity on the raven and brought the bird home, offering it shelter and mending its broken wing. As she nursed the raven back to health, he did something very foolish. He fell in love with the girl. The raven knew it was a mistake. She was beautiful and gentle and kind and he was a creature of nightmares. Eventually, he healed and she set him free. That should have been the end of the story, but the raven was a selfish bastard. It kept coming back—watching over her, leaving her gifts, and visiting her dreams.”

Your breath hitched in your throat as you listened, realization slowly washing over you as Azriel spoke. “Then one day, the raven heard the girl’s father praying to the old gods. Heaven ignored his pleas, but Hell listened. The raven listened because he had never forgotten the girl’s kindness. What the girl didn’t know was that the raven wasn’t a raven at all. He was the Prince of Hell. The day she found him, he had been attacked by his step brothers who sought his throne for themselves. They held him down and drove a spear through his wing, nearly severing it.”

His right wing flared out and you saw a large scar running through the underside of the red and gold membrane. “Before they could kill him, the Prince of Hell shifted into his raven form and fate took him to the small village where the kind girl rescued him. The raven would have died if it weren’t for her. When she set him free, he knew it killed her to do so. But the girl understood what it was like to be in a cage and she didn’t want him to have the same fate as her, so she let him go. As the girl watched the raven fly away with a heavy heart, he promised that one day, he’d set her free too.”

The room was silent as Azriel’s fingers raked through your scalp. “So the raven bided his time. Bargained with the girl’s father. Slaughtered his greedy step brothers. Reclaimed his throne. Then finally, the raven fulfilled his promise. The girl thought that he had set her free, that he had saved her, but what she didn’t know was that she saved him first. Before he met her, everyone always said that the raven had no heart and they were right because his heart was tucked away in that small, snowy village.”

The Prince of Hell brushed his lips over your temple. “That’s what you are to me,” Azriel said softly. “My heart.”

“Why me?” you asked. The memories flashed through your mind. Finding him in that snowbank. Bandaging up his wing. Your father had scolded you for it. Called you soft hearted. Always bringing in the strays of this world. The girl who desperately clung onto magic and fairy tales to escape the harsh reality of her own life. “I’m just a girl who has a weakness for the wild things.”

“Being kind is not a weakness,” Azriel said firmly. “I used to think it was. My father taught me as much and so did his father before him. But they were wrong. It was the kindness of a stranger that brought me back to life. A girl who gave me everything when I had nothing to give in return. That is true strength.”

Tears fell from your eyes like raindrops. It felt good to be seen. To have the whole of you reflected so clearly in someone else’s eyes. “You’re my freedom. You’re my salvation,” you stroked his cheek almost reverently. “I think I’ve been waiting for you my whole life.”

“As have I, my heart,” Azriel whispered softly, pressing his forehead against yours. “As have I.”

“You saved me,” you said once again.

“We saved each other.”

Your heart thundered in your chest as he traced the outline of your jaw, his thumb brushing against your lips. His touch was featherlight, but it set your entire body on fire. Azriel’s gaze marked you, burned you. It felt like he was embedding himself upon your soul.

“Azriel?” Your voice came out in a whisper, low and breathless.

“Yes, my heart?”

“Kiss me. Please.”

The Prince of Hell shuddered a breath. Then his hand slid into your hair, tilting you back. There was nothing but tenderness in his eyes as he closed the gap between you. Lips brushed against lips, tasting, testing—it was excruciating agony, it was sweet release. The kiss sparked a fire in you and you burned for Azriel, arms wrapping around his neck, fingers tangling through his silky locks like you were trying to get lost in the dark paradise that was him with no desire to ever escape.

Azriel pulled you into his lap, his lips never leaving yours. The way your bodies moved in perfect synchrony, melding together, melting together seamlessly made you think that maybe you were created just for this purpose. He was intoxicating; there was nothing more divine, nothing more sacred than the feel of his mouth against yours. Kissing him was an act of worship.

You had the vague sense that you’ve never felt true hunger until Azriel’s tongue slipped past your parted lips and filled you with lust and desire so strong it made you feel like a depraved hedonist. There was Azriel and only Azriel.

Desire was a lit match catching fire on a field soaked with gasoline. The need for Azriel was endless, like staring into an empty abyss and realizing for the first time in your life that you were finally seeing what lay inside this whole time. You were hungry.

Azriel groaned as you rolled your hips against him. His hands found your waist, gripping you like his life depended on it. The gold dancing in his irises flickered to black. His eyes fluttered close as he nuzzled his nose against yours, reeling himself back to reality.

Then, in a voice full of care and restraint, Azriel said, “We don’t have to do anything you aren’t ready to do. It’s your choice, my heart.” The words cracked your heart open, letting sunlight into the shadowy crevices. “From this point forward, it will always be your choice.”

You cupped his cheek, marveling at all that he was. “My entire life, every decision has been made for me. Other people have always told me how to dress, how to speak, how to act. Tonight is the first time that I actually get to choose something for myself. I want my first choice to be you, Azriel.”

The words seemed to unleash something within the Prince of Hell. Azriel surged forward and kissed you, his mouth full of passion and heat. You arched into him and he took the opportunity to graze his teeth against the column of your throat before flicking his tongue over the sensitive spot just below your ear.

“I choose you, too,” he said softly.

You smiled, tugging him down until you both tumbled against the mattress. Azriel pinned you underneath him, taking his time to stroke your curves, his featherlight touch awakening goosebumps along your arms. He peeled the dress off of you gently, kissing your collarbones, your breasts, your stomach, and your thighs. You helped him out of his clothes, peeling layer after layer until the two of you were bare to one another.

You had no idea where to look first. Azriel was a work of art, a sculpture carved out of marble, every inch of him perfectly crafted by the gods themselves. The forbidden fruit seducing you to taste, to bite, to savor. He shuddered as you pressed your palm against his chest, feeling the beat of his heart as if it were your own.

“You will be my undoing,” the Prince of Hell declared. “I would worship at your altar tonight. You are my own little piece of heaven.”

“I don’t want to be your heaven,” you said, voice stern and unwavering. “I want to be your hell, because their god is the only one who has ever answered my prayers.”

Azriel looked down at you as though you were a god yourself. A treasure that he would give his life to guard and cherish. With your legs wrapped around his trim waist, Azriel hovered above you. His gaze was contemplative, searching for any sign of hesitation.

When he found none, Azriel kissed you gently while easing his way in. You were wet, soaking with arousal, and the length of him stretching your walls was a welcomed sting. He kept his eyes on you as his cock filled you deliciously. You moaned into his mouth and the sound seemed to completely unravel him.

It was ruin and restoration, life and death, pain and pleasure combined in one single act. Azriel twined your fingers together, holding your arms above your head as he made love to you. His wings flared behind his back just as his shadows swirled above his head, encircling him like a crown of smoke. The Prince of Hell was a dark god. He was night and mist and shadow. The space between the stars.

You would pray to him a thousand times over.

“Gods,” you moaned, the word falling from your lips like a solemn prayer. “It feels too good. You are too good, Azriel.”

He kissed you deeply, fusing your very souls together. A white hot heat seized your body and suddenly you were careening towards the cliffs, falling hand in hand with Azriel. The Prince of Hell growled into your mouth, his forehead pressed against yours as you both surrendered to release.

For a moment, nothing else in the realm existed besides the two of you.

Azriel opened his eyes and it was like staring directly into the sun after centuries of darkness. With a soft smile, he pulled you into his arms and kissed your temple. Like pieces of a puzzle falling into place, your limbs locked and something within you just clicked.

This was right.

He was right.

You nestled against Azriel like you belonged there all along. “You never told me.”

“Told you what, my heart?”

“How the story of the girl and her raven ends.”

Azriel smiled, pulling you into his arms. “It doesn’t. They just find a new beginning instead.”

taglist: @viradeity @moony-thoughts @i-opened-the-chamber-of-secrets @demirunner @swansworth @heart-defendor @momlo @mali22 @roselensage @searchingford@nessianxgwynriel@azriels-angels@brekkershadowsinger@morelovemorepeacemoretattoo-blog @mattte-black @marina468 @lillithathecathecat @highladyofillyria

#i am so emo over this #prince of hell az is such an angel but the demon will come out in the bedroom soon hehe #azriel #azriel smut #azriel fic #azriel fluff #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel fanfic #azriel fanfiction #azriel spymaster #azriel x reader #azriel x you

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crxshed-skxlls · 9 months

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May I request a Zalgo x Male reader fic? No other requests for it, just that you go all out with the kinks 🤭 (If you don't want to do a fic, headcanons would be great as well)

Ooo such a intriguing request! Dont worry, your sins are my command 🙏

— ❝ Technical Difficulties

Zalgo x Male!Reader fanfic

Word Count: 2k+

Plot: You had been an internet sleuth and explorer for a long time. While you scroll a forum you are met with an interesting "ritual" of an internet entity. You decide out of curiosity to follow such steps, and that was when you were faced with a lustrous entity...

Authors note; This fic is based a little more into the original Zalgo creepypasta, but it's a mix between fanon and canon Zalgo.

NSFW tags: Dubcon, Teratophilia, Dacryphilia, BDSM elements, "Sir" kink, Degradation, ass eating, anal sex, and breath play

Click, click, click went your keyboard as you mindlessly type and search. You weren't always this interested and curious about such trivial urban legends, but something about it made it all the more alluring. You had read up on a forum about a mysterious seeming virus or something that corrupted old Garfield and kid cartoons. At first, you couldn't believe what you were hearing about. After all, a demonic internet entity wasn't exactly the most sane and convincing narrative. Though, forums suggested that you could easily "summon" this sort of demonic malware. You sigh as you brush back the hair that stood lazily in your face as you scroll through reddit for more information.

Soon, you're met with a reluctant link from a user. You became a little suspicious, brows furrowing as you read the small message. "I believe that I found the site. If you view this image, you will summon Zalgo. Be warned," you haphazardly space out as you read the rest. Was this some sort of scam or malware? You didn't bother to heed whatever warning this user had as you clicked the link. You prayed that you didn't get a virus as the site slowly booted up. You're met with a simple Garfield comic, along with some scandalous advertising on the sides. You weren't familiar with the url, .xyz at the end of the link.

The Garfield comic wasn't super to say the least, and the set up was sketchy at best. It was the one where Jon was at his breaking point with Garfield and Odie, the final panel of him being dragged off in a straight jacket. It was unnerving, but you managed to pull through a bit. Your eyes wander the advertisements on the page, swallowing as you watch the promiscuous cartoon girls in compromised positions. For a second you notice a flash of black in the panel's image in the corner of your eye. You whip back to the panel but– nothing. It wasn't out of place at all. You had assumed it was just the late night scrambles of the caffeine intake you took.

Overall, you were slightly disappointed. You thought this was the real deal, and even refreshing the page did nothing but flash you with digital tiddies and the overwhelmed look of Jon's face. Your computer soon pings with a notification, which sends you to a very interesting feeling. Garfield.xyz wishes permission for audio reads in the small box. You are skeptical of what may happen, but you feverishly click the allow button. Nothing happens. Silence fills the room as you anticipate something, but nothing comes but the whispers of the night. You furrow your brows, becoming frustrated as you get up from your swivel seat. Little did you know that once your back turned to go grab some water, that all hell would break loose.

You grabbed the water bottle you had from the nightstand before you hear a gargled, metallic voice hum in the room.

"Y/N."

You can hear distinctly over the static crackles. Your blood runs cold as you are paralyzed with fear, your blood rushing through your body. You hear dark chuckles, the sounds of static and pixelated sounds grew louder. You shiver as your adrenaline readies you to dart out the room.

"Foolish mortals. You all just have to give into curiosity, do you?."

"Who–"

You whip your head back to find a horrendous sight. A black and red mass had crawled halfway out from the screen. You can see its massive horns and pixelated mouth as it attempts to crawl from the tiny screen. It wasn't long until the tall figure finally emerged, several mouths crossing it's body. It watches you with gleaming red eyes. You can feel yourself drop the water bottle, fumbling backwards before you fall into your bed. The being walks– no, prowls in your direction. It licks its sinister lips as it wanders over. You feel yourself stumble over your bed, your breathing becoming shallow.

"Wait – wait what I didn't know that was–"

"But you did. You knew deep down that you did."

The being hisses at your pleas as it stands over you. Your small form compared to his own was staggering. You couldn't believe your eyes as you watched Zalgo with a terrified look in your eyes. His giant hand quickly grabs you, pushing you further onto the bed with black claws. You can feel yourself tear up in fear and disbelief. This couldn't be happening, this was theoretically impossible. Zalgo's mouth curls into a mischievous grin at your pitiful struggle against his hand.

"You poor sack of flesh."

"Please don't –"

"Quit whining or I'll gut you right here."

You let out a whimper as you close your eyes, your hands grabbing the being's claws. You can soon feel a weird sound, the sound of ripping. You couldn't even process it, your eyes blurring your surroundings. Before you could even know it, your shirt was off. You feel a sense of confusion as you slowly flutter your eyes back open, just to watch Zalgo lick his lips. His other hand gently glides a clawed finger down your chest to your abdomen as the being examines you. You can feel your heart rate accelerate as your surroundings mute into blurs and dissociated colors at such an unreal event. You feel a strange heat pull into your body as you feel the rough touch of such an entity.

His claws were so rough, but they were firm in handling you. You feel yourself choke on your own words as you shiver in the being's grasp, hearing his dark words cut your dissociated thoughts.

"You're quite a compliant mortal, aren't you?"

You manage to croak nothing but terrified babbling at the weird compliment, gasping as you feel a claw tug at your sweatpants. You sheepishly try to kick away the monster to no avail, feeling his monstrous grip tighten slightly. You let out a squeak, making Zalgo chuckle under your pathetic struggle. The crimson orbs that stared hungrily at you made you gulp, your Adam's apple bobbing as you swallow.

"If you quit struggling, you'll feel much better than right now."

Zalgo's softer words hit your ears with a confused unfamiliarity, your eyes staring with a glint of puzzlement. His clawed finger soon pushes down under the hem of your sweats and boxers, making you gasp from the complicated touch that hits your hot body. The revealing your half hard cock makes you flush red, averting eye contact as Zalgo oggles your form. His eyes trail down your body, his hand laying plush against your inner thigh.

"You have such a soft yet alluring complexion. Who knew you would be into me."

"What– no, no I'm not. What are you doing? Why are you doing this?"

"For my own pleasures of course, why else would I ever do something so carnal?"

Zalgo trails off as his hands glide upward, his clawed digit tracing the growing cock in front of him. You suck a breath in, letting out a whimper as Zalgo teases your aroused organ. His touch was gentle yet sharp, and you can feel yourself warming up for such a foul tease like the devil in front of you. You want to deny it, a sick feeling of shame hitting you as you struggle to contain your hitched breaths and choked moans. You can feel Zalgo take his time toying with you, pulling you close. Your calves hit the sides of the devil's hips as he sits between you, toying with his newest possession.

"No, no I'm not into this, yet your anatomy says otherwise Y/N."

"You– You have no idea what I want."

"Oh, why yes I do. I know everything."

Zalgo's glitched tone hums in the room as his hand wraps around your penis. You feel yourself physically arch as he starts moving his hand up and down. You let out a moan, whimpering as you dig your nails into the plush sheets below you. Zalgo watches in amusement, chuckling at your miserable attempts of denial. You bit your lip, your hips sputtering into Zalgo's hand as you lose your composure. Zalgo patently watches, his other hand resting on your plush thigh.

"See, isn't that much better than defiance?"

"Mmnh–"

You shake your head, refusing to answer the teasing question before Zalgo rips another moan out of you. You cock throbs in his giant hand, dribbling some pre-cum that smeared on Zalgo's hand. You feel his hands leave your body, making you pause slightly. You gasp as you feel yourself lifted slightly from the bed, your legs instinctively wrapping onto Zalgo's shoulders. His claws grip your plush thighs so hard it threatens to break skin, leaving you whimpering in cowardice. You look up to meet with those same crimson eyes between your legs, dazzling like dark rubies. You open your mouth to say something, but–

"If you start whining now, I'll completely stop."

Your interrupted by his dark voice's commands. You shakily nod, hesitantly watching as the devil's tongue slithers out of his mouth. His warm, wet tongue laps at your ass. The weird sensation causes you to let out a hitched squeak, feeling his tongue rim your soft hole with a curious hum. You shiver as you helplessly feel Zalgo's tongue trace your bottom side, only for him to slowly insert his large tongue into you.

"Oh – oh God–"

You moan out loudly as you feel the light stretch of the wet tongue, his saliva providing a little bit of lubricant to get used to. He hums with a glitched sound, his tongue exploring your inside as he stretches you out. You feel yourself tremble as you moan and whimper, gripping the sheets until your knuckles turn white.

"Wait– wait it's too good, Zalgo please–"

You plead with a whimper, throwing your head back as you feel Zalgo tease your prostate with his inhuman tongue. Your cock drips pre cum slightly, dribbling from your urethra as Zalgo plays with your ass. His tongue slowly stretches you out, humming pleasantly as you quiver in his hands.You whimper, your breath hitching as Zalgo's tongue slithers out of you. You pant, eyes dilated as you watch Zalgo lewdly lick his lips.

"Hmmn, for a mortal you're much more delectable than I thought."

The devil practically purrs, his dark voice sending shivers down your spine. You soon are dragged more onto your bed, the devil between your legs. Your face reddened as you pant, catching your breath as your cock twitches with neediness. Zalgo's clawed hand scales your figure upwards, moving across the plush skin of your body. You soon feel something wet glide across your cock, making you gasp and gaze downward. Zalgo's slick cock laid with your penis, immensely bigger than yours. The small veins and textured sides of Zalgo's cock throb, making him let out a guttural groan.

"Wh– you expect that to fit?"

"I would assume so, I know your fleshy body can take it."

"No you don't!"

You snap back hesitantly, only to lay in fear as Zalgo narrows his eyes at you. You gasp as you feel his clawed hand wrap around your neck, pressing against the sweet spots that made you lightheaded. Your hands shoot up to the hand, the obvious slight choking making you distracted. Zalgo opens your legs wider, presenting your saliva slicked hole to him as you pant and groan. Panic fills your senses for a moment as you feel the tip of the devil's penis rub gently at your hole. Your eyes are set on Zalgo's, peering red eyes laying upon your figure.

"You are going to listen to me, got it? You will take it, and you will like it. Do you understand?"

"Y– yes, yes– "

You nod as you attempt to relax, Zalgo's hand releasing your delicate neck. You cough, swallowing the thick air around you as you watch intently. Before you knew it, Zalgo had slammed himself entirely inside of your walls. You let out a Yelp, hands grasping onto Zalgo's shoulders as you arch into him. Zalgo huffs, guttural groans and moans left in the air as you clench onto him.

"Breathe.. Relax…"

Zalgo slightly murmurs, making your cock twitch. Your hitched breathing slows slightly, only before Zalgo lifts and slams back into you again. Your body trembles as heat pools into your stomach, swirling with a pleasant pain. Your head spun as Zalgo shoves you back into the bed, his hand splayed out onto your chest as he thrust into you again. You both let out a moan, yours being a little pained as you feel the stretch of Zalgo making your body adjust to him. You whine as he puts a slow, almost painful pace.

"S- sir please–"

You whimper out, Zalgo's attention snapping into reality as his eyes wander your face in a bit of surprise. You grip your sheets again, looking at the small bulge that appeared everytime Zalgo sank his dick inside of you. Zalgo grunts, his breathing shallow as he thrusts into your tight ass.

"I– I need more sir, please–"

"You mortals and your words."

Zalgo hisses, effectively cutting you off with a hitched breath. The devious soon gradually picked up the pace, lifting your leg to dig deeper inside of you. You can tell how much he adored the pet name as his cock twitches inside of you. His red eyes peering into your eyes as he thrusts roughly into you.

"You just love being my personal fleshlight, isn't that right Mortal? Letting me have my way with your ass so shamelessly."

The carnal nature that dripped from Zalgo's dirty lips makes your cock tremble with precum. You let out your shameless whimpers, each moan bouncing in the room as you chase your high. The devil soon hits your prostate, allowing you to lose yourself more. Your chest heavily rises and falls against Zalgo's hand, tears glinting your pretty eyes. Zalgo gutturally growls, slamming himself into your prostate at a faster pace.

"My, my… Such a slut you are."

It wasn't long until you couldn't take it anymore, crying out as you finally shot translucent white ropes onto yourself. Your own cum leaves your abdomen a sticky mess, making Zalgo's breathing become faster. He continues to mercilessly slam into your ass, causing sparks of overstimulation to hit you. Rough panting and slapping of flesh fills the room as Zalgo continues to play with you. You can tell he enjoyed your painful pleasure as he groans and moans into your ears.

"Aah fuck, si- sir please–"

You whimper and whine as you feel a second orgasm approaching, feeling Zalgo's cock bury into you more with each thrust. Zalgo soon grasps at your hips, lifting you up slightly as he sputters his hips into your ass. Soon enough, Zalgo buries himself deep into you, groaning as he shoots hot ropes into you. You twitch and squirm, moaning out as you cum for a second time. Soft panting and trembling breathes echo through the room. Sweat, sex, and heat lifted in the air as Zalgo clings to you. You grimace as you feel Zalgo leave your entrance, a slight spark of ache running through you. Zalgo keeps you in his claws as he wraps his arms around you, practically coiling around your body. His glitched, dark voice erupts from the silent room.

"You did well dear mortal… If you're ever that good again, I might just have to keep you."

#creepypasta #creepypasta smut #not safe for minors #creepypasta x reader #creepypasta x you #mdni #smut #creepypasta x y/n #zalgo creepypasta #zalgo x reader #m!reader #male reader #creative writing #creepypasta fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #terato x reader #not proofread

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