#got asked to walk through a sewer | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yanderenightmare · 5 months

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Mahito x darling

TW: NSFW, noncon, psychological torture, Mahito in and of himself

fem reader

Mahito is so scary because you're the only one who sees him.

You can't tell your friends, you can't call the cops, you can't even discuss it with your therapist for fear of being committed.

You're all alone with him – half the time convinced you’re going insane.

He doesn't even need to kidnap you. Why would he? He likes your cozy apartment. To see you in your natural habitat with all your personal trinkets. Your books, your decorations, the contents of your fridge, your makeup, your clothes, not to mention the soft warmth of your bed…

Sure, his sewer has its charm, but you probably wouldn’t like it there very much. Not that it would stop him, but he’s sure you’d be boring if all you did was stay cooped up there all day.

This is much more interesting. To be there when you come home from work, having trifled through all your belongings, dragged everything out – made a mess like a new puppy would. To watch you try to cling to your sanity, going about life, trying to live it normally even when he’s right there on your sofa wanting to dish about how much you loath your pissy boss or that loud neighbor and what fun it might be to kill them.

You brush him off as intrusive thoughts – a manifestation within your mind. That’s the only explanation that allows you to keep your wits with you.

But it’s become hard to bring anyone home. Even though others can't see him, he’ll walk about your friends and the odd date and comment on all the things they do, ridiculing them when they say something cheesy, feigning puking before giving it away with a snicker, then asking you why you bother hanging out with them at all. And you wonder if that’s what you really think… why else would a figment of your imagination say something like that?

No. You decide. He doesn’t represent your thoughts. He’s just… a roommate who knows no boundaries.

Funny enough, you don’t really recognize that he’s any dangerous before you’re getting dressed after a shower, opening a drawer on your dresser you rarely look in – only to find it overfilled with dozens of tiny shrunken heads.

You scurry back on the floor with your hand clasped over your mouth until your back meets your bed – skin crawling. There’s no air left in your lungs from the shock to produce any such thing as a scream – so instead, you start heaving – then crying.

“Oh – I was wondering when you’d find them!” A cheer is heard from your bedroom threshold.

Your eyes pan to look at him – or it. Mahito, with a big grin on his face – clapping as though impressed by your performance.

“Wh-what – what is this?” You splutter, trying not to throw up – casting shifty glances over at the lump that had fallen to the floor – its face twisted with agony, unrecognizable, but you think you still knew… “What have you done?”

It doesn’t smell of rot, but something else – like unwashed clothing – sweat and piss and shit – you don’t understand how you hadn’t smelled it before. You don’t understand how you hadn’t heard it before – the moaning, though only in hoarse weak voices, still there, in a chorus, crying in pain.

“I’ve been studying them.” He says – casually, padding across the floor before bending down to pick the one up.

He looked at it with disappointment, throwing it up and catching it like one would a baseball – then clicked his tongue.

“But I must say you’ve got boring taste… I don’t feel like I learned much of use from any of them at all.”

He drops it to the floor in a fleshy splat, and you cringed anew – wanting to crawl away, wanting to get out, to call the police – maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea to be committed – maybe there was something genuinely wrong with you…

Mahito doesn't share your concerns, though. He’s got his mind on other things.

“I think I’ll learn better through practice.”

You don’t realize what he’s talking about before you’re being lifted up on the bed and then pushed down against it.

His lean but muscular frame has you dwarfed as he crawls after you – caging you between his arms and legs.

“I wouldn’t mind the floor, but I’m sure you’d prefer the bed. That’s how you humans usually like it, right?” He smiles – as though he’s doing you a favor.

He’s taken off his usual tunic – showcasing a pale grey chest patchworked together in crude stitches – and you don’t really understand why you’d ever conjure something that looked like it. So human, yet still… so not.

“I didn’t know what size you’d want – they were all so different – but I think bigger is better, isn’t it?”

It doesn’t register before you feel the weight of it on your stomach.

Fat and warm, ridged with veins and hard against you.

Looking down, feeling the situation settle on your skin like the raw cold – you realize, though you don’t understand it – Mahito isn’t just some imaginary friend.

Whatever he is – he’s no such thing as a friend at all.

Your chest flares. “Mahito, no – ”

Your hands fly to try and push him off, but they’re easily caught. His fingers stretch inhumanly like playdough, using only one hand to reign in both wrists, pinning them to the pillow above you.

“No? Still too small?” He asks, as though your uproar had been a cry for more – his voice in a playful lilt. “I can make it bigger if you like~”

You squirm when the thing between your thighs grows an inch – swelling up into something fatter than your wrist – weighty and twitching atop you.

It alone churns your guts, but the sight of his face gleaming so innocently makes it all so much worse.

You whimper as he drags a rude finger through your folds – bluntly poking at your hole.

“You’re supposed to be wet, no?” He posed, keen eyes watching your face grimace in discomfort – drilling his digit inside you despite it.

When knuckle-deep, he curled it, nail scraping into the gummy of your tender walls – making your whole body twist with an ache, shaking your head while sinking your teeth into your lip.

“Stop-” You croaked pitifully, still trying to wring your wrists free – but the hand keeping them jailed had hardened into something that was no longer skin.

He just yawned at your struggle. “So noisy...” Bored while looking down at you and the ugly way your lips curled at his crude fingering – but then his eyes widened. “Wait – oh! I get it now! So, this is what kissing is for…”

He didn’t give you much time to turn away before his mouth locked on yours – more in an attempt to swallow than to kiss, feeding you his tongue – which felt so much longer than it should be – winding through you until it licked your gag-reflex and made you choke.

You tensed in response, clenching the finger prodding you – and he took it as an invitation to squeeze another in – making you squeal out a sob in his mouth.

But though it was a cruel ministration, it was enough to tickle the instinct – dragging wet out from within you, bathing the digits that now slid with greater ease in and out.

“See~ I told you I’d learn better through practice...” He mumbled against your lips – having felt the change – also noticing the quiet that befell you… looking so cute beneath him.

He chuckled – the taste of your kiss still warm and wet on his lips.

“That really did shut you up, hm~ you humans are so funny.”

That thing resting heavily on your belly does a little jump, and you flinch with it. Left panting after being throat-fucked by a tongue – you’re really only able to shake your head as he slips the beastly thing down between your thighs – its fat head licking your clit on its way until kissing your entrance.

Two fingers haven't done you any justice – nothing could – to prep you for something of that size.

“I think this is correct…” He muses, nudging himself against the slim coin-sized hole – looking a little confused while he did so – though not exactly unsure of himself… more as though it was the whole procedure in and of itself that was at fault and not him. He was just following instructions, after all.

Sucking his teeth at the tautness, he continued to press the tip through you.

A whine was ripped from your chest as it arched off the bed – thighs quaking on each side of his hips, kept spread despite wanting to force themselves shut.

“It’s better if you relax.” He offered then, though without much sympathy. Sounding almost jaded – as though you were keeping him waiting.

But then a thumb pressed down on your clit, forcing another jolt to rush through you.

“Women like to be touched here, right?” He rubbed crass circles into it – worse than amateurishly – rough patterns that bore no real intention of making you feel good.

Then his mouth slid from your mouth, down your neck – only to sink teeth in your tit.

“And here~” He giggled while nomming your nipple, rolling the little nib between his teeth before flicking over it with his tongue again and again, sucking on it harshly.

None of it made you relax like he’d suggested. Either way, he continued to sink his length one thick chub at a time as fast as your hole allowed. And soon enough, he reached your end before your hole could reach his. But that was no issue…

The hand on your clit, cupped your mound instead – and beneath it, where warmth pooled, you felt inner things alter – change, rearrange, allowing the giant member inside you to sink deeper even though you knew there couldn’t possibly be any deeper to go.

“Wow~ look at that…” He awed when his pelvis smushed against your mound – kneading into your clit as he pressed a curious hand down on the bulge he was making in your belly.

Strings of drool stuck from his lips to your chest – and a sick look pooled in his eyes.

Thicker and thicker breaths left him. He swallowed thickly. Barely blinking.

“I think I get it now…” His voice had shed its humorous tone, now sounding soft with something you didn’t want to have the attention of. “It’s like our souls are playing together…”

His hand stroked your stomach – like he was petting something.

“Feels good.”

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just-some-random-blogger · 2 months

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Accidental Targ

Scene III: i told you to hold my hand! | Masterlist

Daemon Targaryen x Modern!Reader

Summary: After coming to terms with the fact you were in King's Landing some two thousand years before your birth, you get reunited with your friend and try to manifest your way back to the present. For the meantime, Harwin Strong is your bodyguard.

Word Count: 4k+

Warnings: fem!reader, time travel au, descriptions of reader's hair, incestuous gremlin!daemon, very sus and innappropriate boss-employee dynamics, low key sugar daddy!otto hightower vibes, crackfic, typos, etc.

A/N: GUYS I DID IT. I FINISHED IT 😫 Also, its come to my attention that perhaps the way i planned out everything geographically is ??? bad but no its not just roll with it AND!! remember yall voted for him ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ i have a feeling you didnt read the prompt fully but whatever HAHAHAA i honestly have no idea where i meant to take this fic, so ???? enjoy?? HAHHAAH

Shoot me if I ever say it again, but for now: gods bless capitalism, specifically for it desecrating a national landmark.

Where once I was one of the people who protested against the building of the High Garden Centre, girl, was I thankful that the old ruins of the fucking Red Keep laid there as a little ol' artsy featurette.

"What's that sound?" Daemon asks as we stand from our spot.

I turn to my side, never before so relieved to hear and see, no more than two blocks away, a rave spilling out of a club, the very one Libby and I were at before we got into this shit show. "That, my prince, is called EDM."

I hurriedly run to Libby's side to pick her up, but Daemon does that himself. He get down and pulls the blue haired woman on his back, and I help him. At the same time, I feel a buzz from my satchel.

My phone!

Daemon watches me as I frantically claw for my device. The amount of texts and call notifications that pop up on my screen is overwhelming. I decide to just let it go off and grab Daemon's arm, "come on."

We walk down from the ruins, shifting through the shrubs and foliage around it. I catch the sight a mall cop and feel agitated when he looks over. He couldn't care less though, the site was open to the public after all, and with a literal club being right there, we were the least of his worries.

We pass the rusty chain fence surrounding it, and draw near Harrenhal (the club). Once we're there, a bunch of men hoot and holler at me. I ignore them as they say something about my 'Targaryen' hair and it dawns on me they were probably calling me princess and lady because I was still in a fucking Targaryen era dress.

Still, I ignore the stupid fucks as they ask to see my pretty skirt, opting to walk faster instead. I was horrified by how loud and violent Daemon's scream was.

He shouted so gutturally that I couldn't understand a lick of The High Valyrian flaming out of his mouth. The vein on his neck popped out and I literally had to hold him back from charging and dropping Libby.

"Daemon, please!" I whimper, heart racing, "Libby's still on you-"

"Grab her and I'll fucking ram steel down- COME OVER HERE AND SAY THAT AGAIN. SAY THAT-"

Steel? I look to his belt. Fucking seven hells, he brought Dark Sister?

I look back at him with wide eyes, feeling nauseous now that I've caught how maddened he looked.

In a panic, I gently pat his face while pulling his arm back, "Daemon, please."

He doesn't look at me.

My voice gets softer and my eyes water, "Daemon, I beg you."

He huffs and clenches his jaw, still not sparing me a glance.

"We don't have time for them," I whisper and keep my hand on his cheek, "I'm just going to connect to the club's wifi from here, then I'll can call us an Ubor."

Daemon does not tear his gaze from the men, who eventually waddle away to whatever sewer they came from, still hollering bullshit as they did.

"Kesan daor nārhēdegon naejot nyetodha aōha irosh," Daemon mutters. I will not forget to slit your throats.

The relief that washed over me was unparalleled when I booked an Ubor set to arrive in 3 minutes. I whimper and rub my eyes, "okay, not long now."

Daemon finally looks at me, still visibly pissed, and adjusts Libby on his back.

I wipe my face, "we're just going to get in the c-" Fuck... I should probably prepare him for the car.

"Okay," I raise my hands, "we're going to get in a metal..." I motion to the space, "... there's going to be a- a- carriage? But with no horse... but and when I get in, you just get in with me, okay?"

Daemon's expression is now one of confusion.

I sigh and place a hand on his shoulder, "it's going to be okay."

His lips curl, "... OK."

I screw my eyes shut and shake my head rapidly, "I mean alright. Alright! ALRIGHT!"

Daemon takes in my visible frustration and nods slowly, "OK."

To be honest, Daemon was a pretty good Ubor passenger, save for the fact his sword nearly cut me, Libby, him and the fucking car seats when he tried to sit without removing his scabbard first. We were lucky the driver seemed to be used to... ren fair people.

He also seemed to be used to driving people to the ER. I was too relieved to think realize how fucked up that kinda is in the moment. Needless to say, I gave him 5 stars and an extra tip.

With Dark Sister in my grip and Libby in Daemon's arms, we finally made it to Lannister Medical Center.

The moment we get there, I run inside the ER and break down at the first nurse I see. I infodump everything, how Libby got attacked, how Harwin lost her, how some maesters tried to help us, how she lost a lot of blood, how I'm afraid she's going to die, how Daemon ended up carrying her, and I just keep going up until I saw Libby's blue hair scattered on a stretcher and the nurse told me to sit down.

I didn't have much fight in me left to argue, so I sit myself down on the bench. But then I see the nurse speaking to Daemon, who, seemed to be explaining what had happened, and I panic all over again.

Before I could stand though, another nurse was there to accommodate me. He did a checkup on me, asked me how I was feeling, and asked if I needed anything to calm down.

I told him I was fine and proceeded to answer his other questions. Daemon eventually came to my side and eyed him.

The nurse gives me a nod and offers a smile, "you seem to be physically well. Just let yourself relax. The doctors have your friend; they'll do their best to help her."

"Thank you."

The nurse nods again. He gives me and Daemon one last look before walking off.

I grab Daemon's hand once it's just the two of us. I look up and shudder, "we did it."

He looks down at me, violet eyes solemn. He brings a hand to my cheek and swipes at my cheek, "ȳdra daor limagon."

"I don't know what that means," I mumble.

"I said don't cry, pretty girl," he kneels in front of me, "worrying will not save your friend."

I stare at him, feeling my heart race and belly roll because of the look he had. He brushes my silver hair back behind my shoulders, only intensifying the flurry in my stomach. Just as I opened my mouth to speak, suddenly, my stomach growls. Oh.

Daemon turns his eyes to my belly as I clutch it.

"You want something to eat... prince?"

Daemon reaches a hand out, "lead the way."

I take his hand, grab Dark Sister, and hand it to him. He fastens his scabbard as we exit the ER and I go through my satchel, fishing for my wallet. Just before I get it, I remember that I blew most of my money on the Ubor.

"Fuck," I curse and turn to Daemon, "I don't have enough money."

Daemon rests his hand on his sword and simply stairs.

"I don't have coin," I clarify. I look around the road and figure our chances of riding a bus at this hour was nonexistent. I give him a look, "do you mind walking home with me?"

Daemon raises a brow, "as opposed to swimming home with you?"

I raise my brows and sigh, "Daemon-"

"Lead the way," he nods and points, "I am not one to tire easily."

I nod and slice through air to drive a point, "okay. No matter what happens," I reach out to him, "you have to hold my hand, okay?"

He looks at my hand then my face, his violet eyes sparkle with amusement. He chuckles but he links his fingers between mine (overkill if you ask me). I'm glad goosebumps don't form.

Daemon smiles softly, "you take me for a child, riña?"

"This child knows how to cross the street," I squeeze his hand harder than necessary and begin to walk off, "I'm not sure you do, kekepa." Grandfather.

Daemon laughs, full-on throwing his head back, "how hard is it to cross? You jus-"

His words go dry when an empty school bus passes us. He was so stunned by the yellow contraption, I had to tug his arm to continue walking.

Just then, a Megatron looking-ass truck drives down the street. I hiss and curse the 14 wheeler for emitting such horrible smoke, eyeing it as it drives away.

Meanwhile, I catch the prince's stunned reaction and almost feel bad for finding it funny. Almost.

We arrive at my apartment about 20 minutes later.

I press the elevator button and turn to Daemon, "don't put your arm between the door, okay?"

Daemon gives me a look.

The elevator opens and we step inside. Daemon gives me a look, "we have lifts you know."

I pull my head back, "you do?"

"At the wall," Daemon retorts as the elevator door closes.

"The wall?" I think for a moment, "ahh. You're right."

A beat.

I knit my brows, "wait, you've been to the wall?"

"Of course I've been to the wall."

The moment we get to my place, relief washes over me. I take my shoes off and scoop my hair in front, "fucking rip this dress off me."

Without a single thought between his brows, Daemon's reaches out to undo the ties at the back of my dress.

Just before he does this, I hear him walk in with his boots and nearly have a heart attack when he passes my threshold.

"OH, ABSOLUTELY NOT!" I turn and shove him back, "take your crusty boots off now!"

Daemon looks at me in bewilderment but walks back and doesn't protest as he removes his shoes. He places his shoes on the rack along with mine.

Not wasting time, he catches my arm and yanks me towards him. He spins me around and immediately undoes the back of my dress. I hastily begin to tug my dress down once I can.

He chuckles, "eager girl."

I rather literally jump out of my dress when I can. Pent-up rage overcomes me. I turn around and start kicking the dress away, releasing all my frustration and anger out on the thing. I curse 8th century Westeros and the Red Keep in particular and assault the object until I'm out of breath.

I proceed to jump onto my sofa and allow exhaustion to finally take over my being.

A second later, I catch Daemon's expression and realize, he probably thought he was going to get lucky when I asked him to basically strip me naked.

"Ahh," I get back on my feet, "sorry about," I point to the dress, "that."

Daemon says nothing as he steps closer. He reaches out for my hip and I swat his hand away. I shake my head, "this is my house."

He chuckles as I evade him on my way to the kitchen, which was not nearly as far as it should have been. The prince eyes the space, "yes. An impressive little room you've got." He follows after me, "I'd love to see the rest of it."

I look at him as I reach my fridge and open the door.

Daemon squints at the light that radiates on me. I cuss at the fact I only had cereal (no milk) and some vegetables that have gone bad. I grab the paper box and hand it to him. He blankly stares at it as I discard the vegetables.

Daemon's brows contort at he box, "it's cold."

I wash my hands, "yeah, refrigerators do that."

"Gra'-nola," he reads.

"Granola," I correct as I dry my hands on my shift.

I'm suddenly struck with the realization his grubby has have never seen antibacterial soap. I snatch the box from him and motion to the sink, "wash your hands."

Daemon turns to the sink and purses his lips.

For a second, I debate if he'd melt if he uses something antiseptic, but then figure I should still take my chances.

I prop the cereal on the counter and exemplify him how to wash his hands. Daemon, with slight reluctance, pumps some hand wash on his palm, opens the sink, and rinses.

I excitedly applaud him once he was done.

"A hand towel," he raises his dripping hands.

I look around even though I didn't have a hand towel. I shrug, "I usually just use my pants."

Daemon shakes his hands by the sink, "your pants?"

"Yeah. They're like clothes that you put on your-"

He grabs my shift and pulls me closer. He wipes his hands on it, "I know what pants are, princess."

I push him off and smirks as he dodges. I make a face, "well, I do so beg your pardon, your majesty."

The prince lets out a low laugh, "don't get too brazen, or I'll have you begging till you weep."

I quickly change the subject, "get that damned sword off your hip." I shoo him and rummage through my kitchen cabinets.

Daemon watches this and chuckles again. He tilts his head as he eyes my legs. He undoes his scabbard, sets it on my dining table, and pulls out a chair. He sits down just as I find a can of Sbam. Huzzah!

I grab a chopping board and open the can. A small smile spreads on the prince's lips as stares. But then, his expression drops when I shake, or try to shake, the processed meat out of the can.

I huff once I've succeeded, and I begin to cut the Sbam chunk, "you know this was in created during the war," I slice a piece, "it saved a lot of people from starvation."

"Which war?"

I freeze when he says this. I open my mouth then close it, unsure if recounting the details of world wars to him was a good idea, "you know what, never mind that."

Once I was done with the Sbam, I got a pan and heat it up. I get a plate and a loaf of bread, then place it on the table.

I click my tongue at the sight of his sword, "off the table!"

Daemon watches as I take Dark Sister and replace it with the plate and bread. I place the sword by the shoes and he takes the plastic wrapped bread. He feels the material and opens it, "what is this?"

"Bread," I retort, going back to my pan.

"No, I know that, but what's it wrapped with?"

I give him a quick look, "oh, plastic," I begin to cook the Sbam, "it's made of carbon... I think- I dunno- don't quote me on that."

Daemon opens the bag and takes a slice of bread. He pulls his had back, "it's sliced."

I beam and jump excitedly, "it is! It's sliced bread! Betty White is older than sliced bread! And so are you!"

Daemon ignores this as he sniffs the piece in his hand. He takes a bite then and makes a face, "why does it taste like that?"

"Like what?"

His brows knit and his eyes narrow, "like a pretender."

I burst into a laugh. I flip over the Sbam with a spatula, "imitation bread?"

"It wants so earnest to be bread," he pushes the loaf away and shakes his head, "but it clearly isn't."

I laugh even harder.

He snorts at my reaction. He smiles as leans back on his chair. A few moments later, he grows serious, "you ought to dismiss your royal baker."

Oh. My lips twitch and I chuckle under my breath, "ah, yes. My royal baker. Yes, I will dismiss my royal baker for making horrible sliced bread. Yes."

The Sbam was now cooked. I present it to him on a plate, "bon app-- ... I hope you like it."

Daemon leans forward to scrutinize the dish.

I press my lips into a line as I sit down next to him. I take a slice of imitation bread and fold in a slice of Sbam. I realize just how hungry I was after taking a bite. Through half-full mouth, I mutter, "it's good."

Daemon watches me and follows suit. He takes some bread and Sbam, then chomps.

I stop chewing. Wait, what if he gets an instant heart attack because his living fossil-self can't handle processed food?

He licks his lips and chews. I begin to grow more agitated as he makes a face.

"It's delicious," Daemon says, going in for another bite.

My agitation turns into shock, "really?!"

"Well, it's no roasted pork, but it'll suffice," he mutter between chews.

I let out a soft laugh and nod, "I'm glad it's enough for the prince."

"I'm honored the princess herself made it for me."

Aw, fuck. Who's gonna tell him?

There is a knock on my door. At the same time, my phone rings.

Daemon is alerted by the sound and I dash away to finally answer my phone.

"What is that?" the prince asks.

"It's my phone. Remember? You can call people with it."

Daemon narrows his eyes as I rummage my bag for my device. The knocking on the door gets louder.

I turn to the door, "just a minute."

I find my phone and feel my stomach drop at the caller ID. The banging on the door persists.

I answer the phone and head for the door, "hello?"

"Fucking hells!" the voice is worn and apparently worried, "where the fuck have you bee-"

"It's not you outside, is it?" I cut him off as I head for the door.

"What?! No! I'm in the fucking North, dammit! Your friends have been calling me nonstop, since fucking Sunday! -"

I open the door and my face falls. Standing before me is a man in a dark teal suit; his tie was loose, his stubble was thick, and he held what looked like a dozen bags in his hands.

"- You and Libby have been fucking missing for days! Where-"

"Mr. Hightower," I lower my phone as the man on the other end continues to chastise me.

Otto Hightower looks me up and down, then sighs, "out of the way."

Without another thought, I step back to let him in. He expertly slips out of his leather shoes then heads towards my sofa. He places all the bags on the coffee table. I follow after him.

I hear my name being shouted from my phone. I close the door and follow after Otto.

I listen in on the call again and I hiss when the voice pierces my ear drum, "Jon, calm down."

"CALM DOWN!? HOW CAN I BE CALM WHEN YOU WON'T TELL ME ANYTHING!?"

I begin to panic when Daemon walks over.

"Who is that?" Otto asks me. He notices Daemon, then makes a face, "who are you?"

I look at Otto, then Daemon, and dash over to the prince, grabbing his hand. I watch in real time the recognition and disbelief that floods the Targaryen's features as he watches the other slowly remove his tie.

"Libby and I got stuck in the ren-fair!" I reply to my phone.

"WHY DIDN'T YOU FUCKING CALL?!"

"MY PHONE DIED, JON!" I shout back a lie.

Otto's brow raises. He looks at me and mouths, "Jon?"

I ignore that and groan "LOOK! I'm fine! Libby's-- ... Libby's," I whisper softly, "in the ER-"

"THE ER-"

"I'M TAKING CARE OF HER!"

"WHY THE FUCK IS SHE IN THE ER?!"

"Libby's in the ER?" Otto mutters.

I raise a finger to answer my phone, "Jon, please. I'll explain everything tomorrow."

He screams my name and I have to rip my phone away from my ear again. I vaguely hear him rant about how I should explain why his sister is in the fucking ER.

"Jon, Jon, I love you but I have to go," I quip and immediately end the call. I turn on airplane mode and throw my phone on to the couch.

I release a breath and find myself pulling a smile as the man in the suit eyes me. He's about to speak, but Daemon beats him to it.

"What was that?" the prince asks, pulling me by the arm to face him.

I turn to him and make a face. It's Otto that answers for me, "her ex boyfriend."

I turn to Otto as he tilts his head and raises a brow, as if daring me to correct him.

I do, "my best friend's brother."

Daemon eyes Otto; the latter makes a face, "who used to your lover," he crosses his arms, "I'm offended you take his calls but not mine."

"And who are you?" Daemon hisses, stepping towards him.

Without missing a beat, Otto meets his gaze and scoffs, "who are you?"

Daemon's pulls his chin back and chuckles dryly. His expression screamed FUCK AROUND AND FIND OUT.

I jump in front of him, my back presses his chest. I give a nervous laugh, "Mr. High- Director- Mr. Director- sir. This is Daemon."

Otto watches as I grip Daemon's hands behind me.

"And Daemon," I barely look at him over my shoulder, "this is... my... employe-"

"Otto Hightower," he cuts me off, bringing his hand into his breast pocket, "Director and CFO of King's Landing Holdings."

I wince, fuck.

"King's Landing?!" Daemon laughs out loud.

Otto produces a business card.

"It's a company!" I turn around and wave my hands, "it's a company! An establishment!"

Daemon does not tear his eyes away from him.

"He's my employer!" I explain.

Otto offers a piece of paper between his fingers.

The prince looks at it and slightly pushes me away, "what's he doing here then?"

"That's hardly any of your business," Otto retorts, tucking his business card back into his pocket.

Daemon laughs and finally turns to me. He mutters something in High Valyrian along the lines of 'let me do something' and 'stabbing'. I frantically shake my hand and push him back.

He thankfully relents and I sit him back down on my dining table.

My relief is fleeting when I realize the only reason Daemon didn't refute was because Otto was trailing right after me. My stomach drops when I feel a hand on my back.

Otto is right behind me. He places a few of the paper bags he brought on the table. He opens them, "I bought you dinner."

I turn to him, intent to tell him he shouldn't have.

"Amongst other things," he adds.

Daemon barks, "we have dinner."

"How did you even know I was home?" I say at the same time.

Otto's eyes flick to him, to the plate of Sbam on the table. His face is blank as looks back to me. He decides to remove his coat jacket, "I suppose you'd-" eyes Daemon, "-also think a candle equal to a campfire."

"Mister Hightower," I helplessly mutter.

He hangs his jacket on the backrest. He turns to me, "and you were missing--"

My expression sours.

"-- what did you expect me to do? I obviously utilized my connections. I'm offended you'd ask me such a thing."

Daemon mutters something in High Valyrian again.

"Of course, I had come see you myself," he looks at me through his lashes as rolls up his sleeves. My eyes dart to his sleeve tattoos and arm veins. When I begin to scrutinize the hairs on his skin, I realize I've stared to long.

In a panicked frenzy, I begin to unpack one of the paper bags. He, himself, brings out a stack of food containers and places them on the table.

The smell alone makes my stomach grumble.

Otto steps away and comes back with plates and cutlery. He places one plate in front of me, and has a prolonged stare at Daemon before placing the other in front of Daemon. He says, "I would hate for prince Daemon to be reduced to eating Sbam for dinner."

My expression drops. Daemon does not move an inch.

Otto turns to me and pulls out the chair. I take a moment before sitting down, because, really, did I have any other choice?

Otto opens the containers one by one and my mouth waters as I see lobster, lamb, and lemon cakes. He serves me meat and veggies, "I would assume you're not hurt like your friend."

I watch as he places food on my plate. I gulp before responding, "I'm just... tired."

"Then, I would also assume you'll not be attending work tomorrow," he takes my hand, putting the utensils in them. He scrapes a chair to my side and sits down next to me, urging me to eat with a motion.

I look at Mr. Hightower, "oh no- I will! I will-"

"You won't," he raises a hand, "see to it you're well rested."

I turn to my plate, feeling a flurry in my stomach over his words.

"Are you not going to serve your prince?" Daemon cuts in, raising his brows.

The lamb I was about to eat drops back to my plate.

The two glare, as if willing the other to spontaneously combust.

Before anything else could happen, I stand and reach out to Daemon's plate. I squeak when both grab me by the wrist.

My throat tightens.

My heart races when Daemon stands, "release her."

Otto raises his brows and tilts his head, "sit back down."

I rip my wrists out of their grips. Thankfully, neither put up a fight.

They stare at each other for what felt like ages. My agitation rockets when I see my boss begin to fidget with his hands the way he did when he was annoyed and ready to do something drastic.

I give Daemon a panicked look and grab his wrist, "kostilus." Please.

Daemon clenches his fist.

I continue to beg him until he sits.

I squeak when he grabs my chair by the seat and pulls me towards him. He mutters, "kesan daor emagon ao va bona run." I will not have you near that thing.

I turn to Director Hightower; I could see his annoyance building.

Fuck.

"Miste-" "Enjoy your meal then," he speaks as he stands. He grabs his coat and points, "I've bought some first aid things. I'm sure your friend can help you put that away."

I move to stand but Daemon stops me. He looks up at Otto in disgust, "do mind the steel contraptions on your way out."

I snap at Daemon, eyeing him hotly. He places a hand over my legs, ensuring I do not evade him. I watch as Mr. Hightower heads for the door, and in a split second decision, I turn to the prince and kiss him on the lips.

He is evidently taken aback, but it only takes him another second to get into it. Once he's put his guard down, I rip away from him and chase after my boss just as he exits my apartment.

"MR. HIGHTOWER!"

Otto turns around. I huff as I meet him just outside my door, "I'm really sorry about him. He's... he's just like that."

"You're not responsible for the actions of others," he retorts, nonchalant.

"I know. But still-"

"You are responsible for the company you keep," he adds.

I brush my silver hair back, "and you're not responsible for my well-being."

He snorts and shakes his head, "I'm your superior."

I press my lips into a thin line, deciding not to get into this conversation right now, "that, you are, Director."

We stare at each other for a moment. I examine his well-ironed suit, noticing how he didn't bother to fix his tie or buttons any more.

"I'll-"

"Is he not-" Daemon kicks the door open.

My eyes widen, "DAEMON-"

"-fucking gone yet?!" he points Dark Sister in an offensive stance. I yelp when he swings his weapon and scratches the door.

Otto's fight or flight instincts kick in and he takes flight down the hall.

"DAEMON-" I scream. I duck down and grab him by the torso, "STOP IT!"

Daemon screams out in High Valyrian. He laughs and lowers his sword, "yeah, you better run."

#daemon fanfic #daemon targaryen fanfic #daemon angst #daemon fluff #daemon targaryen fluff #daemon x reader #daemon x you #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen angst #daemon targaryen x you #daemon x modern!reader #hotd time travel au #hotd au #daemon crackfic #harwin fanfic #harwin strong fanfic #house of the dragon fanfic #otto hightower fanfic #otto fanfic

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monimccoythings · 1 year

Text

Cuteness Overload

Just saw the movie. What a masterpiece. And (spoiler warning) I'm glad they did Charles Martinet justice even though I still think it should have been him voicing Mario. And of course, I'm in love with Jack Black's portrayal of bowser, excellent representation of a good creepy and psychotic villain that stole the entire movie. I loved it so much I'm writing a Y/N fic (My favorite little hoe, but this time is more on the platonic side). This contains a huge spoiler for the movie, specifically the ending. I'd recommend to watch the movie first.

Next Parts: 2, 3, 4, 5

So, a couple of weeks ago your entire neighborhood got destroyed because of some epic anime battle that just casually happened over there. How cool is that? Or how horrible, because thanks to that you just have to take the biggest detour ever known to man to get to work. But hey, at least you had a nice walk.

You getting into the mushroom kingdom was entirely by accident. Yes, you were curious about that new world but never had the time or will to go on a transdimensional travel. Thank goodness there was an open sewer hole laying there (which you completely missed) to help you take the initiative.

If you didn't took into account that nightmarish journey through the tunnels, the Mushroom Kingdom was a pretty interesting place to be. The toads were very friendly and kind fellas, some of them carefully checking you out for injuries and advising you to go see the princess in order to help you get safely home.

Okay, forget about the journey through that cosmic rabbit hole, going up to the castle was way worse. You didn't remember having exercised that much, not even in P.E. You swore your vision was blurry after all that.

Princess Peach was the most loving, kindhearted badass you had the pleasure to meet. That kind angel sent down from heaven upon seeing your miserable state, generously offer you to step in for tea and pastries, while the royal doctor (another toad but this cutie came with a stetoscope and a labcoat) made sure you didn't had seriously injured yourself with the fall.

As dignified and courteous she tried to act. It was obvious she was very excited to meet another person from Brooklyn. Soon you found yourselves engaged in conversation. It felt easy talking to her, like you were talking to an old friend. You suddenly felt very glad you didn't see that sewer hole.

Mario and Luigi stopped by as well, and the second they opened their mouths you recognised them as those two dudes from that dope ass commercial. So they were the ones that were in the middle of the battle in Brooklyn. Good for them, you were glad things turned out great.

You were having the time of your life, they were really chill and easy going people, which put you more at ease. As time passed, you heard the faint sound of a piano being played. When you asked your new friends about it, they just shrugged and Princess Peach gave you a half smile saying that it was her "pet turtle".

Whoah. This was truly a magical place. Her pet turtle played the piano?? And very well by the sound of it. Peach asked you if you wanted to see it. Of course you wanted to see it! Mario and Luigi gave each other uncertain looks, but in the end they just shrugged it off.

After a long walk through the hallways you finally reached a room. The toad guards immediately stepped away when they saw their ruler approach, but gave you a look full of suspicion. Peach softly reassured them.

She opened the door for you and let you in. The room wasn't any different from the castle except that it was completely devoid of any furniture but a single golden cage with THE TINIEST TURTLE PLAYING THE TINIEST PIANO YOU HAD EVER SEEN.

Said turtle was now looking perplexed and midly annoyed that it had been interrupted, but its eyes lighted up when they landed on Peach, who suddenly looked very done and tired. But how could you notice when its mere sight alone was too much for you to bear.

It was SO CUTE. SO DARN CUTE. Cuteness overload. You had died and were sent to adorable heaven where tiny turtles played teeny tiny pianos. You made sure to tell it that several times, making Mario burst out laughing. And it got even better from that moment, because out of that turtle mouth came the most colorful collection of threats and insults in a HIGH PITCHED voice that made your heart melt. Because of course it, he, had a high pitched voice. That only made you gush out more, you loved animals but specially you absolutely adored reptiles.

Mario was literally holding himself against the wall to keep himself from falling for laughing so hard. Luigi was cry laughing and Peach was trying to cover her face, but it was clear that from the way her shoulders rose and went down that she was practically wheezing.

You asked Peach if you could hold him for a while, to which she seriously, or at least she tried to sound serious in the middle of all that laughter, answered that it was too dangerous to let him out. But how could something as darling as that do any wrong? Peach gently pulled you out of the room, but not before you let out a "Bye bye, piano playing turtle, I love you." To a very blushing and mortified turtle.

Turns out that the turtle had comitted war crimes. Very bad war crimes. And even though he was still a little cutie to you, he got what he deserved and shouldn't be let out under any circumstances. Still, you were def going to visit him again.

#bowser x reader #mario movie x reader #y/n #bowser x y/n #bowser x you #bowser #mario movie

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thetarttfuldickhead · 10 months

Text

”Who’s this then?” she asks, as if she doesn’t know, and only to hear the excitement in Jamie’s voice as he tells her all about Roy Kent.

She’s a City girl through and through and it is a little jarring to see different colours up on her wall, but that’s what being a parent is all about, isn’t it? Loving someone enough to love what they love, even if it turns out to be the captain of bloody Chelsea.

---

Posters come and go, there are girls and footballers and other girls and other footballers and then others still, but Roy Kent stays where he is, slap bang in the middle and staring right at her with those weirdly intense eyes whenever she gets in the room to hoover.

Needs to relax a bit, that one, she thinks, more than once. For all the pictures and clips Jamie has shown her, she’s never seen Kent smile. Plays like a god, though, one of those vengeful ones, so she guesses she can see the attraction.

---

It’s obvious that Jamie’s not happy, and she’s not either, what with having him move down all the way to London to play for AFC Richmond of all teams. Still, she supposed a loan make sense, get him more minutes and bit of experience.

“Didn’t Roy Kent move there after he quit Chelsea?” she asks, and is pleased with the way Jamie’s eyes light up a little at that. “You’ll get to play together now.”

---

“He’s a nasty bastard. Right fucking bitter about not being as good as he was, yeah?”

She doesn’t hear much more about Roy Kent after that, not for another year or so. Doesn’t hear much from Jamie at all, really, not even after he returns to Manchester. When he does stop by – for Christmas, for her birthday – he talks about just about anything but football. Doesn’t mention fighting Kent on the pitch, doesn’t say a word about calling him a knob on national television.

Doesn’t take the poster down either, though, she notices when he’s gone.

---

“Jamie Tartt is a muppet and I hope he dies of the incurable condition of being a little bitch,” Roy Kent says and she’s already halfway out the sofa when Simon’s hand on her arm holds her back.

“If Jamie wants it down he’ll take it down,” her husband tells her.

---

She sees her son crouching, defeated, on Wembley grass, and her heart breaks for him. Two days later he’s outside her door and in her arms and he’s talking like he hasn’t talked to her since he was loaned to Richmond and her heart breaks for him all over again.

She can’t wish she had never gotten with his wanker of a father, for how can she, when she got Jamie out if? Still, there’s no stopping her from wishing James falls down a sewer and drowns in shit, gagging on it as he goes.

“And I’m just standing there, like I couldn’t move or something, right, but then Roy walks over and I though he was going to fucking punch me, but he just hugged me, like really tight, and I fucking bawled my eyes out. Dead embarrassing, it was, but… made me feel safe, too. Made me think of you.”

She stops flipping the poster off, after that

---

“So Roy offered to train me, special,” Jamie says, and she thinks it sounds a bit like torture personally, the things Kent is apparently having him do in the middle of the bloody night, but Jamie’s nothing but enthusiasm and barely contained pride so she’s happy for him.

---

She knows that other parents might have been surprised to see their son befriend and then bring home people whose pictures he still has on his wall, but their sons are not Jamie, are they?

Roy Kent proves far less domineering than she might have suspected. Doesn’t shout once, is polite about Simon’s baking, and tells her he loves her before he leaves. Definitively has some issues, but seems a nice enough lad for all of that.

---

Simon drives them down to London for Jamie’s 26:th birtday and it’s only the third time she’s ever been to his Richmond home. As she exits the car, Roy Kent exits Jamie’s front door and pauses at the sight of her.

“Hey,” he says, and it’s a bit endearing, the way he sounds unsure, like he doesn’t know what to make of her or how to act around her.

No need for any of that, though.

“There he is,” she exclaims, adding, “I’m going to hug you now,” before doing just that.

His body is solid and hard and held so fucking stiff, but after just a moment – surprisingly quickly, really – he relaxes into the embrace, like maybe it’s one he’s been wanting for a very long time. He holds her tight and she lets him and she can see what Jamie means about him being a great hugger.

Eventually, she gently pulls back a little, so she can smile up at him as she says, “Thank you.”

Off his furrowed brow, she continues, “For what you’ve done for our Jamie. I know it’s meant a lot to him, you training him and being his friend and everything.”

“Oh. Jamie’s told you about that, has he?”

And she must raise her eyebrows at that, kindly but incredulously. “Of course he has, love. Never shuts up about you, does he?”

As it turns out, Roy Kent does know how to smile after all.

#georgie tartt #roy kent #jamie tartt #roy & jamie #ficlet #my stuff #like jamie's whole thing with roy is such a wild thing but i feel like georgie would just have been so decidedly NOT surprised about it #of course her special boy and golden child is going to become bff:s (and maybe more!) with his favourite football player #that's just jamie right?#also roy probably need a mummy hug SO BAD

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tmntxthings · 8 months

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Had a dream where I got to meet the 2012 TMNT and Raph just gave me a big ol hug and wouldn’t let go.

Gave me the idea, what if reader went on a trip for a week or so and as soon as they get back, Raph is all cuddly with them and won’t let go. He’s making sure they aren’t leaving for a while. He’s getting teased for sure, and he’ll try to deny that he missed them that much, but he won’t leave them alone, sooo.

一∑ Proximity ・゜・。

author’s note: i thought this was cute, so yes, here we go c: also what a nice dream!

warnings: fluff, short

—————————————————————————

It was good to be home! Sure traveling was fun and you’d definitely be traveling again. Just not anytime soon. You had definitely gotten a case of homesickness. It was especially tough to be away from your friends. Though thankfully they had kept you company through texts.

You had been surprised at how much Raph had texted you though! In person he wasn’t as talkative with you around, so to have those deeper convos gave you a bit of insight to the turtle in red unlike before! In fact you felt closer to him, and you hoped it could pass over to in-person as well!

Now you hadn’t been gone too long. This wasn’t the longest trip you’ve ever been on by no means! In the past when you were little you had went on road-trips that lasted well over two weeks. So just a week at the beach was nothing in the grand scheme of things.

Yet as you texted the turtles that you were back and heading their way, you were met with a plethora of ‘ Hoorays/ Can’t wait to see ya/ & Hurry over’s. ’ It was heartwarming! So you had a pep in your step down the New York City’s sidewalks. Down the manhole cover you went and as your eyes adjusted to the darkness your footing finally found the sewer floor.

Immediately strong arms wrapped around you. It was a shock no doubt and you couldn’t stop the sudden gasp from leaving you as you practically jumped out of your skin! But you saw green arms and tilting your head everywhich way behind your back to see a flash of red clued you in on who it was.

“Raph! You gave me a flippin’ heart attack!!”

His reply was to only squeeze tighter, and silence enveloped the two of you for a beat.

“I missed you too,” You said softly a smile on your lips. His reply was mumbled into your hair, so low you couldn’t decipher it but you had an inkling.

After a moment or two more his arms relaxed and you slipped out of his grip and started regaling your adventures from the trip! He led the way back to the lair, giving responses when you paused but letting you talk overall.

And then you were met with three more hugs! “Was wondering where you ran off to Raph!!” Mikey drawled with a smug look. To which earned him Raph’s patented glare, a heated look that warned Mikey he was treading on thin ice.

You restarted your tale of adventures, all five of you sitting comfortably around the tv in the living room. Mikey was asking a bunch of question while Leo and Donnie listened politely. Raph sat right next to you, arms going over the back of the couch.

It had been about an hour when your phone started to ring. Your mom needed a grocery run and was asking for your help! With that you relayed the message to the turtles and said you would stop by again soon! “We’ll be here!” Leo smiled. “Do you need help with the groceries?” Donnie asked, to which you thanked him kindly but said you could manage. “Leaving already?!!” Mikey whined giving you a puppy dog stare before crushing you in a hug. “Betcha Raph’s gonna walk you to the manhole!” Mikey said in a sing-song tone. Teasing his red brother once again.

“And if I am??” Raph asked defensively. “Just admit it bro! You missed Y/n sooooooo much. Never left your phone alone, always texting during patr—“ Things started to fly at Mikey’s head before he could finish his sentence. As Raph ground out that he needed to mind his own business or just shut up in general.

It took you calling out a goodbye for Raph to finally let Mikey out of a headlock as he raced towards your side. But not without giving Mikey one last warning to be prepared for when he got back.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed Raph! You know I missed you guys too!!” You tried to say.

But you were met with denials! “Mikey doesn’t know what he’s talking about. I was playing this new game..”

“Ohh..”

“What game?” You questioned. And not to see if he was lying just because you were honestly curious. He sputtered about it being some dumb fighting game and that ended that conversation. The walk was quiet but you were used to it. Raph kept close to you the entire way to the manhole, sometimes his hand would even brush yours as his arms swung slightly as he walked. Surely that had just been a coincidence!

“Well, this is me!” You joked, head nodding up at the manhole above you. “You sure you don’t need help with the errands?” Raph offered. Your heart warmed again, but you shook your head. “I’ve got it! But I promise to be back soon, maybe even later today?”

Raph seemed to like that idea. “Alright, well text me and keep me updated..” he put his hands on his hips as he started rocking slowly back on his heels. “Will do!” And with that you turned your back to him and went to climb to ladder rungs.

Before you could take too many steps away though, it was like déjà vu. Raph’s arms went around your middle. Hugging you for the second time today. This was one quick, almost as if he hadn’t exactly expected himself to move into action. He cleared his throat and called out a goodbye as he left. At the top of the climb you looked out to see he was already out of sight! You still called out for the whole sewer to hear,

“Missed you too Raph!”

Even though he wouldn’t say it. At least not clearly. You would say it just so he knew that for certain.

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goblin-enjoyer · 5 months

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Normalize the tf2 mercs as being absolute genetic freaks of nature under the hood. Medic is crazy and we know he gets paid good so he’s probably got lots of bits in his bin if you know what I mean.

Pyro is straight up nonhuman. Pyro is a fire elemental that the Mann brothers have bound to a hazmat suit and medic made a real boy by giving them meat. Not making her a human body mind you, but rather every time he gets damaged, instead of bursting into flames meat forms around the wound and it bleeds instead of letting the inner crea tur out.how? Wizard. Moving on.

Soldier has massive lungs that make him 20% more louder. If he was smarter he could probably echolocate his way around. That or sound attacks idk he eats wizard pills he could have hollow bones for all I know. Sure he has hallow bones now for rocket jumping. Im the one typing I get to make nonsense on the fly.

Medic put pigeon dna in scout and that’s how he makes his trademark milk-like substance. How this happens you may ask? Scout saw medics doves have sex while getting his second Uber heart surgery and said “man I wish I could pick up chicks that well” and medic said “good idea I will help you with this” and then looked at the camera and smirked. The administrator does not spectate medics lab/operation room/dove breeding center anymore. Also scouts immune to radiation due to all the bonk he ingests, though sometimes he does become radioactive sometimes.

We already know that demoman’s body creates alcohol and that he has a ghost eye, but did you know that if you shoot him with some sort of piercing explosive round he will combust into flames. I… I couldn’t really think of anything for demoman I don’t play him as much.

Engineer always wishes he could have kids, but doesn’t want to have sex. That and he removed most of his reproductive/unnecessary/extra/mid organs with machine parts like 30 years ago. So after the events of the games and comics where everyone is happy and junk, he teams up with medic to make himself some half robot half human half whatever dell conagher is at that point at time children. He asks if medic ever want kids he can do the same for him but he declines as at this point in time he has perfected the art of male impregnation.(on various ape parts) dell is a great father and yes I added this part because the whole humanized sentry thing that went around a while ago touched my heart because despite the words of almost every engineer main everywhere I get so attached to the sentries I build that I die a little bit inside every time I die and my buildings get sapped and I have to just watch as my babies get destroyed. I get too attached to my buildings to play engineer

Heavy doesn’t stop growing, similar to that of a reptile. His skin is as thick as a rhinos. He hibernates for a month in summer because I said so. He has accidentally killed/crushed medic before and is now eternally cautious when in bed with him. Medic doesn’t mind, he knows what he’s gotten himself into. Heavy can also talk to birds like a Disney princess. Medic didn’t add any bird parts for this to happen he just was always like this.

Sniper can dislocate every bone in his body and go through cracks that are at least the size of his head. He will use this to show up in the most unexpected places imaginable. Is legally classified as an tardigrade in some places due to his ability to be fine in almost any place (volcano,Arctic,sewer system, a walk in closet so large it took him 5 weeks to get out, space that one time). Can go up to a year without eating (the team found this out at the same time they figured out the space thing). Swallows things whole.

Spy can shift his flesh around to disguise as almost anything, keeps the mass and weight though. Breaths mostly through his skin so he doesn’t cough due to his decrepit lungs. Was hit by a car once. Doesn’t have anything to do with the subject matter of the tf2 mercs being freakish beings with human skin but I just wanted to include it here.

Medic. What isn’t medic? The only thing consistent with his biology is that he can regenerate somehow. He alters his body so much that it is roughly equivalent to 1 tyranid hive fleet and 2,million ork painboys.(the tf2 mercs would be more likely to work for the orks than to ever work for one of the human factions in 40k and I just needed to get that off my chest) This is how he manages to get away with all the things he’s done. Banned from this continent? Just become a new person who’s not banned from that continent and presto you’re good! The laws don’t account for the ship of Theseus!

#midnight brainrot #man I love posting nonsense late at night #tf2 #team fortress 2 #tf2 heavy #sniper tf2 #scout tf2 #spy tf2 #tf2 engineer #tf2 medic #tf2 spy #tf2 scout #tf2 pyro #tf2 sniper #tf2 soldier #tf2 demoman #did I tag this right? I’m not good at tagging things

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avoxrising · 4 months

Text

The Feral One • Ch 23

Finnick x Y/N

Series Masterlist Link

Ahhh so I actually love this part of the story. Prepare yourselves for a wild few chapters before the end. See y’all in the next chapter for the sewers ;)

Content Warnings - Injury, death, panic attack, games flashback

When you wake up, your group is stopped for lunch in a different location from where you slept. Finnick explains that he had to sedate you last night and you’ve been out all morning. The group moved a few blocks but didn’t film you at all because you were passed out. He makes sure you eat before the group gets moving again.

You excuse yourself to the washroom of the apartment you are in to freshen up. Your arm is also killing you and you want to take a look at it.

Removing your shirt, you gasp at the sight. The veins on your arm have started to turn black as they pulse with pain. Were you poisoned? Were you having a weird reaction to the sedative? Whatever it is, you don’t have time to dwell on it as you pull back on your shirt and move to follow the rest of the group outside.

“Hold up!” Boggs states, causing the group to stop. “We’ve got a pod. Take cover.”

The group splits up to hide between two pillars. The camera crew get the shot set up before Katniss is instructed to shoot an arrow through an arch up ahead.

The street quickly erupts in gunfire as the pod is triggered. You feel paralyzed by the noise, the pain in your arm intensifying.

You finally calm down when suddenly you hear a loud explosion. Turning, you see Boggs laying on the ground sans legs. Katniss and one of the other soldiers rush towards the scene and Katniss gets the holo from him. The other soldier triggers another pod and chaos erupts.

Black goo floods into the now locked courtyard you are in. You are urged to run towards a building but the ringing in your ears is too much.

You stumble your way forward, not moving quickly enough to keep up with the group.

“Come on Y/N!” one of the camera people shouts as she grabs onto your arm to pull you along.

With a loud growl, you lunge for her, tackling her to the pavement. You snap your teeth at her face, but someone else pulls you off and sticks a syringe into you before you could jump on anyone else else.

You wake up a few hours later in a new apartment. Your wrists are bound together in an effort to restrain you. Finnick is sitting close to you but everyone else has made sure to keep their distance.

“What happened?” you groggily ask him.

“You and Peeta both snapped,” he sighs. “He tried to throw Katniss into the goo and you tackled Cressida to the ground when she touched your arm.”

“I have to go back to 13,” you mumble. “It’s too dangerous for me here.”

“You’re ok,” Finnick assures you. “It was a high stress situation and you reacted badly to touch. Nobody here blames you and Cressida is fine.”

“No something’s wrong with me,” you tell him, panic in your voice. Knowing he needs to take you somewhere to calm down, Finnick tells the soldier on watch that he’s taking you to the bathroom and walks you to the other end of the apartment.

You gasp for air as your hands grip the linoleum counter tops.

“Breathe love,” Finnick instructs. “You’re ok.”

“No I’m not,” you gasp, terror in your eyes. “It’s happening. My arm…”

“Does your arm hurt?” Finnick asks and you nod your head yes. “Which one?”

“Right,” you say through gritted teeth, the pain making you want to scream.

“Can I take your shirt off to look at it?” he asks as he unbinds your wrists. You shake your head no.

“I’ll do it,” you mutter as you attempt to use your left arm to free your right from your shirt.

Finnick gasps at the sight of your arm, the black veins having intensified and spread since earlier in the day.

“What happened?” he asks, worriedly looking over your arm.

“I can’t escape the clock,” you mumble.

Finnick quickly steps out of the room and calls for someone named Jackson. He returns with the soldier you saw on watch when you woke up and she takes a look at your arm.

“Don’t touch me!” you growl as you flinch away from her approaching hand.

“I’ve never seen this,” she states to Finnick. “I’d radio for medical but our communications are still down. She’ll have to carry on with us till we can contact someone.”

“When did this happen?” Finnick asks you.

“It… it started with… the headache,” you manage to get out. The black veins were slowly beginning to spread up your shoulder towards your neck.

“So it wasn’t from the pods,” Jackson notes.

“Maybe we should ask Katniss,” Finnick suggests. “She’s good with medicine.”

“No,” you growl, pulling your sleeve back on over your arm. “I’m fine. Not a word of this to anyone or I rip your throat out.”

That night your dream is different. Travis, the boy from 11, sits in Wiress’ place on the beach. Black blood flows from the gash in his side, and his eyes are dead as he looks at you.

The 69th games had come down to just you two. The game makers had released mutts to push you both to the cornucopia for a final dual, and what would be the death of Travis.

You were exhausted but determined to return home. Anger flowed through his veins, while adrenaline flowed through yours. He swung his sickle at you over and over as you did your best to evade his attack. Your lone knife was lost, buried deep in the forest after he threw it.

He was bigger than you but unfocused. Despite the swelling in your face making it impossible to see out of your eye, you managed to grab his arm as he swung at you, the sharp blade inching closer to your head.

You didn’t hesitate. Your teeth sunk into his fingers as your hands pulled at the handle of his weapon. He screamed in pain as the extremities were severed, his blood coating your tongue.

Your foot connected with his stomach, successfully separating him from his weapon before plunging it into his side.

On the beach, black blood streams from the stubs on his hand as he finally speaks.

“Your time is up, feral one”

Taglist:

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#hunger games #finnick odair #hunger games fic #the hunger games #finnick odair x reader #finnick x reader #finnick odair angst #finnick angst #finnick #mockingjay #the feral one #avoxrising

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her-satanic-wiles · 6 months

Text

October 29th

Breathplay, Swiss x Reader

Masterlist

Words: 4.2k.

Warnings: Breathplay; choking; Ghoul!Reader; public beginning; semi-public ending; public dry humping; dubcon; listen, I can’t help myself, okay?; they get real fucking awkward someone slap ‘em; finger sucking; fingering; squirting; positive degradation (took me 29 days but we got there in the end); possessive (if you squint); dacrophilia; unprotected sex; piv; vaginal sex; I went feral lmao; spit kink; cock warming;

Taglist: @sodoswitchimage @enchantedbunny @bitchywitchygardener @thew0man @sodomiser @the-did-i-ask @copias-sewer-rat @gehrmansbignaturals @deetz-ghuleh @onlyhereforghost @zombiesnips-blog @saturnhas82moons

Author's Note: Major thanks to @da-rulah for giving me this idea, like legit, this was all her idea. She’s the organ grinder, I’m just the monkey. Inspired by… recent events.

Recommended listening: Hypnosis by Sleep Token.

🔞 MDNI 🔞

It started with Dewdrop.

You danced on your podium stage, the roar of the crowd echoing in your ears as Watcher In The Sky droned on. The blinding spotlight followed your every move as you took your place behind the microphone, a sea of faces stretching out before you. The anticipation in the air was electric, and you could feel the bass thumping through the stage floor, matching the rhythm of your racing heart.

From the corner of your eye, underneath the mask, you saw him charging towards Dew at an alarming rate, his broad shoulders tense and fists clenched. It didn’t register fully until you got a good view of his body, and then you realised it was Swiss. Swiss was usually feral during this song - you’d seen clips of him online afterwards if you’d missed it during the concert. But usually he kept his insanity to his corner of the stage. Not tonight, though. Tonight he was gunning for the source of his anguish - tonight he was racing towards Dewdrop and his guitar that was loudly whining in everyone’s ears.

The first time it happened, it was just a scream. Well, a scream and a bite, but it wasn’t anything more than that. Harmless, really… even though it did set you on edge. There was something equally thrilling yet terrifying about seeing this big, burly man, who was usually the sweetest guy, angrily charge at someone so small in comparison; but also knowing that he had gained the confidence to wander around. You weren’t forbidden to leave your individual stages per se, but Papa did prefer it if you stayed in your place.

This was also amongst all the things he was doing with the other Ghouls - namely with Aurora. The way he got on his knees for her every time Cirice played, every time he pretended to pleasure her, sent shockwave after shockwave through your body. And the night they kissed? You felt the green-eyed-monster make an ugly appearance, and wished that was you.

The next time it happened, things got a little more… heated. His strong hands wrapped themselves around Dew, engulfing his entire hip and front. His large frame dwarfed the Ghoul in comparison and completely hid him from your view. You couldn’t see what Swiss was doing to him, but judging by the repetitive movements his arm and shoulder were doing you could easily come to a general conclusion.

The third night was worse… so. Much. Worse. You watched as Swiss wrapped his large hand around Dew’s neck, gently choking him while imitating jerking himself off. It definitely shouldn’t have done things to you. It definitely shouldn’t have made you think the things you did. It was just two guys playing around on stage… sure their game got a little sexual, but there was no harm done and the crowd certainly enjoyed it. That night though, as he was walking away, he made eye contact with you and caught your mouth agape. That night, he decided he was going to come and hang out with you for a few songs.

The next day, as you were putting your uniform on and painting your face the typical Ghoul style, a knock wrapped at your door. “Come in!” You shouted. Your body froze when Swiss walked through the door.

“Hey, loser.” He teased as he usually did, leaning up against the door frame. His sleeves were rolled up, exposing his gorgeous forearms that were crossed against the broad expanse of his chest - and you weren’t at all staring at the way that position pushed his breasts together to create a tempting amount of cleavage, visible only by the crease of his shirts. The leg he wasn’t resting on had also crossed over his body, and stabled him a little more by the toe of his boots.

You cleared your throat and looked back to the mirror, picking up your black paint box and scooping more up onto your finger. “Hey, loser. Did you not have anything better to do than watch me get ready?”

He tutted. “Now, can’t a guy come and visit his favourite Ghoul before a concert for a little conversation? What if I was Rain, hm?”

“Well, if you were Rain then I’d be much kinder. But you’re you. You want something. Spill.”

He sighed. “Fine,” he raised his hands in defeat, “you got me. How’s about we play a little game on stage tonight?” He walked over to you and stood behind your chair, looking at you in the mirror. His hands rested on your shoulders and gave you a little rub.

“What did you have in mind?”

“I’ll choke you instead of Dew.”

You tried not to react in any incriminating way - this was Swiss you were talking to. If he saw a flicker of anything besides absolute disdain or unbothered attutitudes, he’d rib you for the rest of time. You swallowed, and continued applying your paints. “Why me? The crowd loves that gay shit and what you do to Dew. Hell, they love what you do to Aurora, too.”

“Yes, but,” he leaned down so his mouth was level with your ear, his deep voice dropping low, “you love it, too, don’t you?” You froze. “I’ve caught your face. You’re not as sneaky as you think you are, you know?” He stood back upright. “Unless you actively stop me, I’m going to play with you tonight. Speak now or forever hold your peace.”

Silence.

He tapped your shoulder and walked out of your dressing room. “See you tonight!”

You stepped onto the stage that night, the bright lights momentarily blinding you. The roar of the crowd echoed through the arena as the music began.Your thoughts kept drifting to Swiss—and whatever the hell it was that he had planned.

Swiss stood there, his presence commanding and his voice a captivating force. His every move seemed to draw you in, and you found it hard to concentrate on your own performance. The lyrics you were supposed to sing became a blur as you watched him, transfixed by his talent and charisma.

You tried to focus on your harmonies and choreography, but Swiss’s magnetic presence was an irresistible distraction. Every time your eyes met his, a spark of connection passed between you, intensifying the infatuation that had taken hold of your heart.

The familiar darkness of Cirice screamed through your in-ears, and you looked back over to Swiss’ podium but he was missing. Nowhere to be found. Given your conversation earlier, and his habit of going feral during Watcher in the Sky, you assumed he would do something then. It wasn’t until you felt his hands around your neck you realised he had other intentions. His fingers clasped your neck as the intro reached its pace change, the tips of each appendage falling onto your throat seductively, as though he were drumming on a desk and using his thumb as an anchor. You felt his helmet connect with yours and his body press up against your back. The longer he stayed there, hands attached to your throat, the tighter they held, squeezing the sides of your esophogus like an anaconda about to feed. Of course, he didn’t restrict your air flow. Of course, his hands tightened in all the correct places that made you feel lightheaded without damaging your body.

Of course he knew how to do that.

You couldn’t hear anything, or take in what else was going on. Your mind was consumed by his hand, and now something else pressing into your hip you didn’t expect to come out and play. The feeling of your pulse quicken sent shockwaves through Swiss’ body upon the realisation that you enjoyed this. You liked feeling his hand around your throat. You liked how hard he was squeezing. He placed his other hand on your hip and, clearly thinking only with his dick, rutted into you. The first time was an accident, he told himself. The second, third and even fourth time was because you felt so good against him, he couldn’t help himself. It wasn’t until he heard Papa singing the opening lyric, he remembered where he was, and that you both had to stop. So, he pulled away, and rushed back to his own stage.

After the adrenaline of the concert had faded, you found yourself back in your hotel room, still buzzing with the memory of Swiss’s hands haunting your mind, and you swore you could still feel his fingers ghosting your skin. As you tried to unwind, there was a sudden knock on your hotel room door.

Startled, you crossed the room and opened the door to find Swiss standing there, his expression a mix of nervousness and determination. He had sought you out, and it was clear he wanted to talk.

“Hey,” he began, his voice a little uncertain. “I couldn’t stop thinking about what happened tonight. I-”

“Come in.” You said, opening your door wider and allowing him to enter.

“Thank you. I just wanted to apologise for crossing a line tonight.” You closed the door behind him. “I don’t know what happened. I don’t have any excuses. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologise, I-”

“I crossed boundaries, I really-”

“I liked it!” The words spilled out of your mouth, revealing a depth of feeling you hadn’t intended to share just yet. Swiss’s surprise was evident, but his expression softened with understanding, and a hint of a smile played at the corners of his lips.

He took a step closer, his eyes searching yours for sincerity. “I… I didn’t realize,” he began, his voice laced with a touch of vulnerability. “Where do we go from here, exactly?”

To hell with it, you thought. The damage had already been done, you might as well just rip off the bandaid and get it over with. “You could do it again.”

“N-now?”

“If you want…”

“No, I want… to.” He swallowed. The man in front of you was now so far from the Swiss you knew. His confidence was… somewhere in the room. But nowhere near him at the present. A tinge of excitement mixed with the nervousness in Swiss’s eyes as he contemplated the idea of doing it again. It was a leap into uncharted territory for both of you, a risky move that could either cement your connection or create an irreparable divide. Yet, the allure of it was too strong to resist. “Can I kiss you?”

Your voice came out breathier than usual - breathier than it ought to be. “Yes.”

Swiss finally closed the gap, his lips touching yours softly at first, not wanting to let loose too quickly and scare you away. He’d already crossed multiple boundaries today, he couldn’t bring himself to cross another. His hands came to your biceps, thumbs rubbing over the clothed skin in a comforting up and down motion. It wasn’t until you’d decided you were ready for something more that he finally let up.

Still in his uniform, you grasped onto his collar and pulled him closer, deepening the kiss and earning a little grunt in response from him. His left hand travelled upwards as your tongue gained access to his mouth, and eventually you felt his bare palm over your neck, thick fingers gently squeezing at the sides. You whimpered into his mouth, the sound so delicious on his tongue and reverberating in his ears, sending blood rushing south. That one sound did things to him he had never imagined. That one sound made him vow that you were going to cum around his cock tonight, with his hand wrapped around your throat.

He broke the kiss to torment you further, as if his actions on stage the last few days hadn’t been enough. As he spoke, his hand remained on your throat, and his voice was barely above a whisper. “You’re enjoying this aren’t you? I can feel your shakes of excitement. Those moans. The light in your eyes.”

“Please.” You said. As he squeezed at the sides, you could feel the restriction but not enough to cut of air supply entirely. Your head felt light and dreamy, eyes hooded with lust, hands grasping onto his forearms tightly to help you steady yourself. You begged, for what you couldn’t say. Maybe it was just force of habit; maybe it was your brain telling you to say it because he liked it; or maybe you wanted him to do unspeakable things to you while his fingers threatened to close your airways. A delirious smile painted on your face as though you were descending into madness the longer he touched you. His hand on your throat wasn’t enough for you. You imagined his other hand between your legs, dipped into your cunt. You wanted his fingers to violate you, roughly penetrate your walls and hit that spot hard over and over until you were screaming out for him.

Regardless, he approved, confirming this with a hum, voice so low it sounded like a tiger’s purr. “Please what? Use your words, tell me what you want.”

“Your hands.”

“My hands, hm? Doing what?”

“Touch me.”

He ghosted his lips over yours. “I am touching you.”

You took his free hand into yours and guided it to your waistband, dipping it below the fabric and hovering above your core, already wet and ready for him. “Here, too.”

“Greedy pup. No, baby. If I’m going to touch you, I’m going to do it properly.” He removed contact from you completely and took a step back. “Undress yourself.” You watched him remove the watch from his wrist, eyes fixated on his hands. “So desperate to have me touch you. Come on, baby. Don’t make me ask you again.”

You nodded dumbly, slowly removing items from your body until you stood bare in front of him. Swiss, in that time, had been removing his own clothes, except he was left only in his underwear. He placed one final kiss against your lips, feather-light and leaving you wanting, but still grateful for the attention. “On the bed, sweet baby. Spread your legs for me.” He instructed.

You followed his orders like a soldier to their commanding officer, eagerly hopping on the bed and exposing yourself to him. Where the confidence came from, you couldn’t say. In a normal situation, you’d be much more modest or tasteful with your movements, hesitant to expose yourself so readily. But there was something about Swiss’ commanding demeanor, his authoritative aura that had the hairs on your body stand on end, electrified in anticipation of what was to come. He had you wrapped around his little finger so quickly, it should have scared you. You weren’t one to easily submit. Yet you watched him climb over your body with hunger in your eyes, and mischief in his. You zealously sucked on his thick, middle fingers when he placed them in your mouth, and shivered when you felt them prod at your sopping entrance.

His digits met no resistance as they breached your walls, tapping the secret button inside that made your mouth fall open in complete pleasure. The squelch of your juices drowned out your little whimpers, and sped up as his tempo became more and more vigorous. Your body shook with the ferocity of his movements, and your fingers clutched onto the bedsheets to divert the energy from your mouth and cope with the overwhelming feeling boiling up inside you. You had to remind yourself of your location, that you were sharing a wall with a colleague and that you couldn’t be too loud; but Swiss simply tutted.

“Am I not making you feel good?”

You had to force air back into your lungs. “You are!”

“Then why can’t I hear you?”

“I-” You didn’t know what to say.

“Let me hear those slutty little moans, baby. Or I’ll stop.”

“No! Don’t stop, please don’t!”

“Then,” as he moved his fingers inside you, his other hand came to your throat, “be loud for me. And play with your clit.”

At the feeling of him restricting your esophagus again, combined with both of your hands working in tandem with each other, you had begun to reach heights you’d never been able to achieve with another person, even yourself. There were times when you were in the throes of touching yourself, when your own hand was desperately working yourself to orgasm, that you’d choke yourself in order to feel the ecstasy you were begging for. But it wasn’t quite the same - it never was. Yet now, your finger was frantically rubbing over yourself as your other hand moved from the bed sheets to clutch around his wrist as it gripped tightly to your neck, deliciously sending you back into that state of delirium.

Swiss knelt in between your legs, allowing your hips to buck wildly. His eyes were fixated on your face, cock hardening at the sight of you. Your eyes were rolling back into your skull, your mouth hanging open as if you were possessed. You were one tongue and a few tears away from a perfect ahegao, but there was still time. He’d make sure of it.

“Swiss!” You called out helplessly from below him, weak, vulnerable, half-crazy with the feelings he was making your body feel. He couldn’t deny just how delicious his name sounded coming from your swollen lips, oozing with need and desperation. Your mind was completely his; your body gifted to him willingly in your need to be choked and dominated. His name was the only thing you’d remember while he had you under his touch - under his fist. “G-gonna cum!”

“Yeah?” His voice was a little higher pitched, condescending. “Is my perfect girl gonna cum all over my fingers, hm?”

“Yes! Yes! Lucifer, yes!”

“No, no, no. Not on my watch, baby girl. Lucifer can’t make you feel this good. Who is?”

“You are!”

“Say my fucking name.”

“Swiss! Fuck! Cum-cumming!”

Vesuvius had nothing on your eruption. He paled in comparison to the earth-shattering explosion that set off inside you, and forced its way out without your knowledge. You poured yourself all over him, bathing him in your sacred water while your throat screamed bloody-murder beneath his hand. Fingernails dug into his skin as your body shook, cunt clenching tightly around him. Your vision, when you were able to think coherently again, was black in the corners from the intensity of your orgasm. As your orgasm subsided, Swiss’ hand pulled out of you and took over from yours, gently rubbing circles into your clit and making your body clench with little pockets of sensitive aftershocks. He wouldn’t stop until you told him to, and those words weren’t falling from your lips so he continued his ministrations, working you into over-sensitivity, gradually picking up the pace until his fingers were ferociously working you up towards a second orgasm; and you, the ever-willing recipient to his torture, accepted those gifts graciously, desperately calling his name as your mind went dumb from the pleasure.

Tears were falling from your eyes this time, and you clenched around nothing when you felt his broad tongue lick them from your face. All the while, his hand never left your throat.

His cock was girthy - average length but thick, and it met no resistance as it slid into you. His thigh hooked under your knee and lifted your leg further up the bed, allowing yourself to open up even more to him, and granting him the ability to bury himself all the way inside you, only stopping when there was nothing more to give. Every single one of your nerve-endings were standing on edge, holding matches to light the third fuse of the evening and preparing to hurt you in all the best ways. Swiss’ hand was on your throat, applying a similar amount of pressure as before while forcing your head in place to keep eye contact with him as he bottomed out. The drag of him against your walls, stretching you, filling you, was exquisite. His eyes, burning hotter than embers bore into your own, creating a depraved yet intimate moment as he geared up to fuck you into the mattress.

“Oh that’s fucking it, baby girl.” He moaned out in pleasure above you, savouring the tightness he’d buried himself inside. He removed the pressure from your neck to allow you some respite, but he kept it there to remind you of his intentions. “Fucking hell. If I’d known your cunt was this good I’d have taken you much sooner.” He began to thrust into you, resting most of his weight onto his other hand. His pubic mound rubbed against your clit, hairs tickling you and providing a small amount of stimulation. “This pussy was Hell-sent just for me, wasn’t it? Shit. So fucking perfect. You open up so well for me. So fucking wet for me, shit!”

He picked up speed. “Fucking ruining me. Why would I fuck another slut when I’ve got you, hm? So willing, and pliant,” he applied pressure again and watched your eyes light up, “and freaky. Oh shit!”

He was speechless for a while, focussing on the sound of your cunt swallowing him over and over again, squelching for him in appreciation of his hard work. He looked down to watch the cream of your pussy gathering around the base of his cock - well, all of it that wasn’t streaming down your folds and gathering on the sheets below you. So fucking tight and wet for him. He’d never been with anyone quite like you. The way your pussy opened up for him, the tears you were crying because of him, your screams of ecstasy. It was almost too much.

“Open up for me, baby girl.” He told you, and once you obliged, a string of his saliva dripped from his mouth into yours. He was laying claim to you wherever he could and groaned deeply when he felt you clench around him, becoming impossibly tighter. “Fucking hell - you loved that didn’t you? My beautiful, dirty whore. Touch yourself for me again.”

Your hand snaked down between your bodies to rub at your clit again, harshly and quickly stroking yourself in desperation of your third orgasm. You could tell that he wasn’t far off himself, erratic thrusts announcing how close he was. All the while, you were mewling beneath him - screaming for him. The drag of his cock against your walls, working alongside the tightness of his hand around your throat intermittently squeezing, was pulling you ever closer to the edge of euphoria. Just a little more and you’d fall - a little more and you’d be free.

“Swiss!” You shouted his name repeatedly, begging him over and over.

“I know, baby. I know. Keep going for me, that’s it. Fucking shit. I’m never gonna stop fucking this pussy. Where can I cum? Please tell me I can cum inside you.”

“Yes! I want it inside me. Give it to me, please!”

“Oh fuck! I couldn’t stop if you said no, baby. Can’t pull out. Too. Fucking. Good.” Each word was punctuated with a particularly hard thrust that sent your body up the bed a little. “You gonna cum, hm? Gonna cum on this goddamn dick?”

“Yes! Fuck, Swiss! You’re gonna make me cum!”

“Do it, baby. Cum for me.”

He tightened his grip one final time, keeping his pace while you kept yours. Your third orgasm was violent in all the best ways. Your vision was the first to go, eyes glazing over and rolling back as drool poured from your open mouth. Your hands cramped where they sat, digging your fingernails into his strong arm while rubbing your clit to completion with the other. Your back arched, your lungs refused to fill with air. Your voice was silent as your body convulsed in pure, unbridled pleasure while your mind swam with delirium from the subtle air restriction.

“There we go, baby girl. That’s it. Fuck - I’m g-gonna cum in this tight fucking cunt. Shit!”

Swiss came next, his seed pouring deep inside of you and painting your walls white. After your third orgasm, he selfishly chased his own, temporarily using you as a toy to tip himself over the edge and meet you in your euphoria.

Your hearts were racing from the adrenaline of the moment you’d just shared. Swiss could hear yours as he collapsed on your chest, his cock softening inside of you. You were both too tired to move, too sensitive to feel the cold. He wrapped your leg over his hip and rolled off you, hands and your leg pulling you with him. As soon as you both made eye contact again, his lips met yours in a desperate and needy kiss. This one, however, wasn’t intended to get you both riled up again ready for a second round, though, the longer your lips were attached and your hands roamed over his body, you could feel him chubbing up inside you. “You’re fucking incredible, you know that?” You whispered. “Thank you.”

Swiss chuckled. “I know, but it’s always nice to be reminded.” Another kiss, but this time your hand gripped onto his hair and pulled a little. “Don’t fucking do that or I’ll have to fuck you harder.”

You tugged again.

“___.” He warned.

You didn’t heed it and pulled one final time.

“Right,” he pulled out of you and flipped you on your stomach, “remember, you asked for this.”

Previous Day ⛧ Next Day

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viviannesmonster · 1 year

Text

CHAPTER ONE OF "MY KING"

"Mario! Luigi!" You called out as ran towards them.

"(Y/n)!" They said turning towards you.

You gave them a group hug and smiled at them. "Where are you guys going?"

"We're going to save Brooklyn!" Luigi cheers.

Mario chuckles and puts a hand on his shoulder. "Easy Luigi. We saw on the news that pipes under Brooklyn are erupting. We're gonna go down there and fix it. That way people will take our business seriously!"

"Nice!" You said. "Can I go with you?"

"Of course!" Both brothers said.

"And later once we're done, you can come to our house for spaghetti later!" Luigi said, as he and Mario jumped into a sewer pipe.

"Oh nice!" You said following them. "I love your mom's spaghetti."

"I only love it when there's no mushrooms." Mario complained.

"Do either if you guys have an extra flashlight?" You asked.

"Nope." They both said.

"Sorry (Y/n)."

"It's all good." You said. "I'll just use my phone."

You all looked around for signs of damage and suddenly someone dropped something.

You turned to where the noise came from and Luigi had disappeared.

"Luigi?" You asked, walking closer to the item that was dropped.

When you got closer and picked up what he dropped, you felt yourself being pulled into the pipe.

"Mario!" You called out.

He came running over and you pressed your hands against the inside of the pipe.

"Give me your hand!" He yelled reaching out to you.

You let go of the side but that caused you to lose foot and you fell deeper into the pipe.

"(Y/N)!" Mario called as you fell.

Soon, you began floating through a place filled with clouds, seemingly heaven.

"(Y/n)!" You heard Luigi say.

"Luigi!" You said.

"What's going on?!" He yelled.

"I don't know!"

"Guys!" You heard Mario say as he swam up to you two.

He took a hold of your hand and then Luigi's once he caught up to him.

"Everything's going to be okay!" He said. "As long as we're together!"

As soon as he said that however, you two got separated from Mario and went through a scary lava like portal.

END OF CHAPTER ONE

(Hope you enjoyed)

-> Chapter 2

#super mario #mario movie #bowser #bowser x reader #fanfiction #super mario bowser #chapter one

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yanderes-galore · 5 months

Note

yandere hcs for ennard, more so ennard when they're using Mike's skin and the darling is someone Mike knew? Hopefully that makes sense

Yeah, sure! I'll see what I got :)

Original Ennard HCs I'm using for personality purposes

Yandere! Ennard Pretending To Be Michael

Pairing: Platonic/Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Stalking, Graphic descriptions, Manipulation, Multiple personalities (Ennard), Deception, Dubious but implied forced companionship.

I feel this situation would progressively get worse as things progress.

Your connection to Michael doesn't matter too much.

I'd imagine due to the pairing you were friends or something closer.

The biggest issues with Ennard taking over are these;

Ennard has multiple personalities you'll pick up on over time, they struggle with replicating Michael fully.

The eventual smell as their disguise rots.

The odd movement "Michael" begins to display.

The look of your friend gets worse and worse.

Pretending to be Michael is a way for Ennard to be close to you.

At first they'd definitely struggle.

Not only do they have constant personalities buzzing in their mind, but they also don't know you well... if at all.

As a result, when you call Michael's name, you'll notice him twitch a little before trying to respond.

Ennard tries to also learn singular pronouns.

It would give them away if they kept saying "we".

Ennard struggles to learn Michael's behavior, but soon they get the hang of it.

It would help more if Michael had videos of you and him so they can copy it.

When Ennard meets you they can tell you're worried about Michael.

They can't tell if it's nice someone cares about them after being forgotten so long... or if they're envious of the supposedly deceased Michael.

Either way they try to respond in a way similar to Michael.

Honestly, trying to replicate Michael is hard for them.

One moment you find Michael being playful with you, the next he's asking you to dance midway through.

Then there's times he claims he wants to impress you, other times he gets a bit... devious.

You begin to wonder what he's gone through when he was gone?

Michael just seems so erratic with you.

He also appears oddly obsessed with you and things about you.

You even pull him/them aside to try and figure out what's up.

Your friend is acting weird... so you'll keep an eye on him.

There's times when he visits that there's the distinct smell of decay around him.

You jokingly tell him to take a shower one time, to which he (Ennard) gives you a confused look.

You feel even more concern towards your friend when you notice his walk.

He appear limping at times, leading to you holding him up.

An action you notice he shuffles closer to you during.

You offer to call the hospital when you notice Michael's skin turn a bruising purple, one that remind you of flesh lacking blood.

Ennard tells you they don't need it as Michael despite your worry.

Meanwhile as Ennard plays the role of your friend, they pick up items they think remind them of you.

They also often stare in an attempt to memorize what you look like in their mangled databank.

During this time Ennard is working on a time limit.

Michael won't be a suitable disguise soon enough.

Plus... the personalities buzz even more when they discuss you.

Soon you'll notice "Michael" slip away again.

This is Ennard making their escape, fleeing into the sewers.

They really hate the idea of leaving you... they miss the comfort you offer.

However, they promise to see you again.

They may even be in a different form when they meet you again.

Then they can have your comfort in their true form...

They hope you'll be just as welcoming as when they were Michael... won't you?

#yandere five nights at freddy's #yandere fnaf #yandere fnaf sister location #yandere ennard

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theyhavetakenovermylife · 4 months

Note

To my Favorite person,

Would it be okay to make some more muntant mayhem ones? I love the one you made! Amazing content like always! <3

Family In The Sewer (Fluff)

MM!Donatello x reader

A/N: I’m your favorite person? You’re so cute and thank you😭💚 Hope you’re ready for some Donnie time💜

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

You’re finally meeting your boyfriend’s big family, who just happens to live in the sewer.

Warnings: Family cuteness💜 and maybe some spelling. I was a little tired heh

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

New York City was buzzing with activity on a usual Wednesday, as Donatello led you through the crowded streets, his hand intertwined with yours. The two of you had just left your favorite pizza place, and were now making your way to the sewer Donatello called home.

You couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and nervousness. Today was finally the day you were going to meet Donnie's family. You had met his brothers during school, and even been out bowling with them, but you had never met the rest of the big family.

It was no secret that Donnie had been nervous about it. His family was nothing like yours. Your family was small compared to his, and only made up of humans. All though it had been a bit strange bringing a mutant turtle home for your parents to meet, it had been a somewhat normal get together, with dinner and your family asking Donnie all sorts of questions. But Donnie’s family was quite a bit different. Only consisting of mutants, being him and his brothers were the only turtles. He had told you about them. His rat father and his cockroach stepmother, and her many siblings that now lived with them.

You followed Donnie down into the sewer, finding the whole experience fascinating. You had never been at his place, mainly being that it was located in the sewers, and he had told you it was cramped with his family there. Therefore it wasn’t uncommon for Donnie to spend the night at your place. There he could do his homework and get some peace, without having to listen to Ray Fillet’s singing, Mikey and Mondo Gecko’s skateboards, Bebop and Rocksteady’s booming voices, or whatever Splinter and Scumbug told each other in their secret language.

With a deep breath, you followed him down into the sewers and through the winding tunnels until you reached the home of the mutant family. The moment you stepped into the entrance, you were greeted by the familiar face of Leonardo.

“Oh! Hey Donnie! Hey (Y/N)!”, he greeted, jumping on one leg as he was getting his shoes on.

“Hey Leo”, you greeted.

“Where are you going?”, Donnie asked, watching his oldest brother as he finally got the shoe one.

“Nowhere”, Leo answered, standing like a deer caught in the headlights.

“April asked you to help her with her new story, didn’t she?”, Donnie said with a sly smile.

“Maaaaaaybe”, Leo said, moving further and further to the exit. “Anyway, see you later. Bye!”

“He’s still not over that prom thing, is he?”, you asked your boyfriend, watching Leo leave the lair in a hurry.

“Nope”, Donnie answered, before guiding you further into his home.

To say that the lair was cramped was an understatement. There was not a surface where a mutant wasn't doing some sort of activity. Who you guessed was Mondo Gecko was skating in the hallway-like tunnel with Mikey, while Genghis Frog was filming them. They greeted you with a small hello, letting you and Donnie pass before continuing what they were doing.

The moment you stepped into the main area, you were almost tumbled by Leatherhead and Wingnut, as they were hurrying to the computer desk. They shouted apologies at you and Donnie, before fighting over who got to play on the computer first.

Ray Fillet sat in the corner, singing and writing down whatever song lyrics he could think of. Splinter and Scumbug was in the kitchen area, cooking together what you guessed was dinner, while Raph, Bebop and Rocksteady sat at the table playing card games.

Bebop and Rocksteady looked up from their game of cards, to see you and Donnie walk in together, their eyes widening in surprise.

"Well, well, well! Look who's brought a date to the party!" Bebop exclaimed, a mischievous grin spreading across his face, forgetting about his cards long enough for Raph to get a quick look at them.

Rocksteady nudged him with his elbow, "A date, huh? Donnie, you sly turtle! When were you planning on telling us about this?"

Donatello rolled his eyes. "Guys, I’ve already told you about this. This is (Y/N), my girlfriend, you know, the girlfriend I told you I would bring over for dinner today".

Bebop and Rocksteady exchanged amused glances, and Bebop waggled his eyebrows suggestively. "Donnie's got a girlfriend! Who would've thought? Our little tech genius is all grown up."

Rocksteady chuckled, "Yeah, and he even knows how to use those smooth lines. You've been holding out on us, Donnie."

You couldn't help but laugh at their good-natured teasing, turning to look at your boyfriend. Donnie shot them both a mock glare, his cheeks tinged with a hint of embarrassment.

"Come on, guys. Give it a rest," Donnie said, tightening an arm around you.

“Did I hear someone say girlfriend?”, a friendly voice sounded from the kitchen area. You turned to see the mutant rat you’ve heard so much about, walk to you and Donnie, wiping his hands in a kitchen cloth.

“Hey, dad”, Donnie smiled at the old rat, before letting himself be pulled in for a heartfelt hug.

Splinter gave his son a smile, before turning towards you, grabbing your hands to shake them. "Welcome, (Y/N). It is a pleasure to finally meet you!", he said, shaking your hand with so much enthusiasm you feared your arm would fall off.

"Likewise, Splinter," you replied, feeling a bit more at ease, even if your shoulder was about to pop. “I’ve heard so much about you”.

“And so have I about you”, the rat smiled, finally letting go of your hand. But just as you thought you finally could keep your hand for yourself, Scumbug came and shook it, letting out a string of sounds you did not understand. “She said you have pretty eyes”, Splinter translated. “But that you’re too thin. Donnie! Don’t you feed your girlfriend?”

“Dad!”, Donnie exclaimed, feeling his face get hot.

“Haha, don’t worry my son. We’re just kidding”, Splinter said. “But call your brother, and ask him if he eats at April’s or comes home from dinner”.

—

Dinner was a lively affair, with everyone sharing stories and laughter. Mondo Gecko and Mikey shared their latest skateboarding escapades, and Leatherhead and Wingnut entertained everyone with their tales of adventures on their computer. Raph revealed that he had already won against Bebop and Rocksteady three times before you came to the lair.

And then came all the questions. Ray Fillet wanted to know how long you and Donnie had been together, while Genghis Frog wanted to know who asked who first. All of it prompted Scumbug to say something, that Splinter translated to a remark about how the boys were getting older, causing Donnie to remind her that she had only known for a few months.

As the night progressed, you found yourself getting to know each member of the mutant family a little better. Donnie was right - it was a tight fit amongst them all, but you couldn’t deny the coziness of it all. Sure, it was a strange group of mutants, all finding their home together in the sewer, but it was nice. Strange but nice. Way more noise, but comfortable. You understood why Donnie sought out you and your place for peace and quiet, but you also understood why he didn’t like to stay away from home for too long. His family was a lovely quirky bounce, each with their own lovely personality that you couldn’t help but admire.

—

As you prepared to leave with Donnie there to walk you home, Splinter approached you with a kind smile, before bringing you in for a quick goodbye.

"It was great to finally meet you, (Y/N)", he said. “It is great to know there are good humans out there to take care of my sons, and I’m happy you are one of them”.

You nodded and thanked him, grateful for the wise rat's words. And with a final round of goodbyes, you and Donnie made your way back to the surface, hand in hand.

As you emerged into the night air, Donnie looked at you with a grin. "So, what do you think?", he asked, tucking the hood of his hoodie closer around his face to shield him from the cold night air.

You chuckled. "They're amazing, Donnie. Strange but amazing".

“That’s good”, Donnie said with a smile as he swung your entwined hands back and furth, as you continued down the street. “Because my dad has already asked about when he and Scumbug can meet your parents”.

“Your dad is ready for all the big things, huh?”, you laughed, finding the thought of the mutant rat and cockroach at your parents dinner table slightly amusing.

“I like to think that he’s happy that we’re making progress in the human world”, Donnie said, referring to him and his brothers. “Besides, he might as well get ready for the things he knows will happen”. He let go of your hand to pull you closer against him, causing you to giggle.

“Is that your way of saying that I’m invited back for dinner again another day?”, you asked, feeling your cheeks getting hot.

“That’s exactly what I’m saying”, Donnie smiled, before placing a sweet kiss on your blushing cheek.

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grape-eating-vampire · 2 months

Text

PART 2 of

things that happened so far in my first bg3 playthrough ever that I found so funny that I put them in my notes (now proper spoilers below)

defeated Ketheric Thorm in no less than 4 attempts

freed Mizora from one of the mindflayer pods, regretted it immediately because I hate the woman

got annoyed at missing so much companion banter, caved and got the companion limit begone mod

am now running around with all the origin companions, left the druids at camp to not be toooo overpowered (luckily I'm so bad at the game that it doesn't make a huge difference anyway)

there is someone named Orpheus and eithin seconds I had the Wedding Song from Hadestown stuck in my head

reached Baldur's Gate! my 200€ pc is Suffering

slept with the emperor to get the 'Mind Blown' achievement only for my mum to walk in in the middle of it to ask me for a hairclip

needless to say she was concerned and I had to explain myself (she stayed concerned but also found it funny)

snuck into Cazadors home and met someone named Sebastian, bawled my eyes out at his and Astarion's conversation

killed Cazador!! (fuck that guy)

went through the entirety of the sewers to find Minsc because what Jaheira says is law and the quest markers in my game are buggy as hell

on a sidenote, I godamn LOVE Minsc and Jaheira as a duo they are the best

recruited Minsc obviously, also took me two attempts because just knocking him out while he was under a 'Hold Person' spell counted as killing to Jaheira :(

met Dammon again! Karlach was thrilled and so was I

talked to Gortash (he's meh) and he told me to kill Orin

talked to Orin (I hate her with all I have and more) and she told me to kill Gortash

OH I ALMOST FORGOT

Remember how I left the druids at camp? Orin snuck in and took Halsin, pretended to be him and had me almost crying

but rage prevailed, so I went around the city for about 19 years to figure out how to get into Baahls temple (I had only knocked out someone instead of killing them, making the amulet you need for it not spawn in their inventory)

finally figured it out, went in, and immediately found a clowns head from about 20 hours playtime ago

killed Orin (and got the achievement), it was great fun bc as mentioned before, I despise her

Halsin was so thankful I'd saved him that he immediately went "haha tysm for not leaving me, wanna fuck?"

so I left Wyll for him (with lots of pain in my heart, the things we do for the plot istg)

have not played since, but my most recent savefile is called "the wicked bitch is dead, long live the druids"

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eclipsedrgn · 9 months

Text

They're Monsters!

Pair: Bayverse!Donnie x reader

Summary: The Turtles infiltrated Police Headquarters and get caught. One police officer insulted them and that's not going by (Y/N) that easily.

Being Donnie's girlfriend, the Turtles figured you'd be calm and collected like him. But in reality, your like Raph in a tiny, human body. So when times like this happens, they have no idea what kind of (Y/n) they're gonna get.

"Are you freaking kidding me?!" You hissed at Donnie as you go around from your hiding spot, Mikey running the other way to tell Raph what he heard.

You knew the Turtles were starting to struggle not being accepted, especially since they're growing up and hatred being stuck in the sewers.

Raph was getting more hotheaded as ever around his brothers, Mikey was starting to get annoying, though the orher two brothers were calmer you can still tell they wanna be above ground.

Leo and Donnie looked at you, Leo sighs "We can explain"

"No, no. Its the lying for me" You said. "Leo, your gonna lose their trust. Especially Raph's"

"They don't need to know every decision I make-"

"But a big change like this?" You sighs. "Forget it, forget I said anything"

You walked away towards the homemade pizza box couch and collapsed. Sighing, you take out your phone and scrolled through Instagram.

Leo was practicing his katas when Raph came out of his gym, he walked slowly towards the leader, ready to let out steam.

"Pop quiz" Raph says jumping onto the platform. "What are the three most important traits of a ninja?"

Leo gave him a small grin as he continues his kata, "Speed. Stealth-"

"And honour. Where's the honour in keeping secrets from your brothers?" Raph accused.

"I don't know what your talking about?"

"Oh now your adding lying on the list" Raph accused.

You walk over to the two, pushing them apart by their plastrons. "Enough"

"But-"

You raised a finger as Raph silence, a clear annoyed look on his face.

"This isn't fair Leonardo. Lying to your brothers about a life changing event. What is with you?" You sternly spoke.

If you two are referring to what Donnie told me about the purple ooze, it's called compartmentalization of information," Leo replies closing up on Raph's face.

"If there's even a chance that ooze can make us human-"

"We're turtles, whether you like it or not," Leo says in aggravation.

"It's not about what I like, it's about what people up there are willing to accept!" Raph gestures to outside.

"True acceptance only comes from within," Leo recites.

"Don't give me that fortune cookie muck" Raph glares.

You backed from the two, shaking your head as you turned and walked away. Donnie rushes after you, worried about your reacting to all of this.

"You have to believe me when I say this isn't the outcome I wanted" Donnie said.

You shake your head, "Why didn't you tell me, or consult me? Why Leo?"

"I... I get guess I got too excited" he sighs. "This is something I thought everyone would want. To be normal and living above grouns. You know? To be a normal couple"

"Honey" you coo, reaching out for his hand. "I'm so sorry"

"It's fine-"

"It's not. Donnie, you should have told me this is how you felt. I should've took it into consideration. I shouldn't have gotten mad" you said.

"I'm sorry, I-" his device on left wrist beeped, Donnie paused to take a look and gave you a sincere look. "I'm sorry honey, there's a break in-"

"Say no more" you smiled. "Go be a hero"

"Leo. Leo, an alarm just tripped at the Hayden Planetarium. We have to get uptown" Donnie reports rushing towards the blue and red clad.

"Gear up, Donnie" Leo commands. "You two stay here"

"You're benching me?" Raph yells out as the two left.

"What did I do?!" Mikey asks.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

Raph had a plan. He had a plan to infiltrate the Police Headquarters with Mikey to get the last of the ooze they got in custody. He called April and Casey down to the lair with a plan in mind, the problem is how to get (Y/n) into the plan without getting much trouble.

He approaches you slowly, as you sat at Donnie's surveillance room watching as your boyfriend and the leader in blue arrive at the museum.

"Hey (Y/n), do you have a minute?" Raph asked.

You turned the chair around, "Sure. What's up Raph?"

"I know Leo and I got into an argument about the ooze-"

"Let me guess you wanna go into police headquarters to find it and use it for yourself?" You said crossing your arms.

"I-I wouldn't say it like that" Raph replied shyly.

"The blue prints are printed. Do not tell Donnie" you said with a smirk. "I'll be reckon. Watch from the outside"

"Thanks" Raph sighs and turns to walk away, but paused. "Why are you helping me?"

"I... I guess I never considered how Donnie really felt. He never told me about his desire to be normal and when he did... I guess I wanna make it up to him" you said.

"You're a good girlfriend (Y/n). Don't forget it" he smiles.

(Y/n) gathered the blue prints and pens, as the rest gathered around the dinner table. April and Casey arrived and sat next to each other, (Y/n) sat next to Mikey who dug into the pizza.

Raph clears his throat as everyone looked up at him, "We need to break into Police Headquarters"

A pause.

A really long, awkward pause.

"So, you want us to break into Police Headquarters?" April repeats.

"Uh, yeah" Raph states obviously. "Donnie said he needs more of the purple ooze to track Bebop and Rocksteady. And you said the cops would've logged it into their evidence control room by now"

"Okay, and Leo is good with this plan?" April questions skeptically.

(Y/n) clears her throat. "Actually, Raph is in charge of this one. Right Mikes?"

"U-Uh right" Mikey says unsure.

Raph places the blueprint down the table. "So, we can take the elevator shafts and vents. We need you three to stay on the ground-"

"Whoa I can't just walk into Police Headquarters" Casey refused.

"What are you? Chicken?" Raph teased.

"Hey!" Casey stood, closing up to Raph. "Who are you calling chicken, turtle?"

(Y/n) chuckles, her temper rising carefully. She reaches out pulling Casey down back his seat. "Listen, do you want to get Beebop and Rocksteady or not?"

Another pause, Casey says. "So we're breaking into Police Headquarters"

"We got one last boondoggle. We need to find someone to sneak you guys in past security checkpoint" Raph says looking at Mikey is disgust as the youngest turtle made a pizza sandwich with pizza. "Only plan I got so far may be a tad less appetizing"

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

After convincing Vern to break into the police, everyone got to their spot. (Y/n) sat across the headquarters, looking through the binoculars. Her heart jump out of her chest as she sees the two mutant turtles breakthrough the ceiling. She tossed the binoculars and rushed into the headquarters, seconds before Leo and Donnie arrive.

"Raph, what're you doing with that?" Leo accuses.

"Honey?!" Donnie exclaims seeing his lover.

"Freeze! Don't move! Don't move!" An officer shouts, gun pointed.

Raph's eyes widen repeating, "No, no, no, no, no, no!"

"Freeze right there!"

"Don't move! We'll shoot!"

Raph and Mikey looked at each other as they slowly kneel, (Y/n) rushes towards the two as the officer raises his gun shooting. Pain filled (Y/n)'s right shoulder as she places herself in front of the youngest turtle.

"Don't shoot them" (Y/n) pleads, she winces her shoulder bleeds out.

"Move girl!" An officer shouts.

"No!" (Y/n) shouts. "You don't understand!-"

BANG!

(Y/n) didn't know how quickly it happened. A shot was fired and she placed her body between Raph and Mikey, no matter how small she still blocked them. She felt a huge pain on her chest, she struggled to breathe, she barely registered her body hitting the ground as the four yell out for her.

She saw the color purple as her eyes dropped close.

#tmnt x reader #tmnt raphael #tmnt donatello #tmnt leonardo #bayverse tmnt x reader

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grandmother-goblin · 7 months

Text

When Soap Isn't Enough

Ao3 - Masterlist

Summary: No matter how many times Astarion scrubbed himself down, he just couldn't feel clean. So he accepts Cas's offer to help him out.

Relationships: Astarion x Female!Tav

Rating: Teen and Up

Word Count: 2.4k

Tags: Hair washing, references to past trauma, non-sexual nudity.

Astarion tilted his head back onto the lip of the bathtub and closed his eyes, enjoying the heat of the clean water and the soothing aroma of lavender scented bath oil. It was technically his second bath of the evening. The first one had been dedicated to ridding himself of so much filth he was surprised he was allowed through the doors of the Elfsong. The second was just for his own sanity.

As if traversing the sewers beneath Baldur’s Gate wasn’t bad enough, some lunatic had summoned an army of grease mephits and one thing led to another and… well, Gale blew them up. But not before one of them managed to slime Astarion head to toe. Blinded and covered in grease, the little bastard then shoved him into a puddle of sludge. But everyone was so concentrated on surviving the encounter, Astarion did not have time to feel embarrassed about his condition.

The only thing Cas could offer him on the long walk back to the Elfsong was a cloak and a few rags to wipe himself up. It wasn’t nearly enough, but it was better than nothing and he appreciated the gesture.

He was also grateful that Cas had gotten them a separate room from the others. It meant that fewer people got to see him in such a state, and he enjoyed the privacy it afforded him and Cas for several reasons.

The space wasn’t very big. Beside the washroom, all their room had was a bed big enough for two and a dresser to keep their belongings. But it was cozy. Rich wood tones and warm lantern light gave the place a very homey feel. He kind of liked it.

Astarion splashed a bit of water on his face. No matter how many times he scrubbed himself down, he still felt the grease. It wasn’t there. He could see it wasn’t there. But, somehow, he still felt like he couldn’t get clean.

“Astarion?” Cas called from the outside the washroom, her voice just loud enough to hear through the thick wooden door. “Do you mind if I pop in for a second? I just want to grab my hairbrush. I promise I won’t look.”

He rolled his eyes. “Darling, you’ve already seen everything,” he said and picked up the bar of soap again. “The door’s unlocked.”

Cas slipped into the room and shut the door behind her. Though he really didn’t mind if she looked, she kept her eyes off of him. Instead, she made a beeline for the vanity and quickly found her hairbrush. “Are you starting to feel better?”

“Mostly,” he said and began to scrub his arm with soap again. “But I still feel like there’s grease everywhere. On my skin, under my fingernails, in my hair. I’m sitting in water and I’m still probably flammable.”

There was a soft snort of laughter. “Want to try washing with some vinegar?”

The suggestion made Astarion’s lip curl with disgust. “I’m trying to smell better, my love, not worse,” he said and started washing his other arm. “Though if you have any more of that lavender scented shampoo, I wouldn’t say no to that.”

“Of course,” Cas replied brightly and retrieved the bar of shampoo from her toiletry bag. “Do you have any interest in letting me wash your hair for you?”

Astarion’s brow drew together as his hand paused mid-scrub. “Wash my hair?” he repeated back dumbly. “Why?”

She shrugged. “It feels good and I want to,” she said as if it was the simplest thing in the world. “No pressure. Just thought I would put the offer out there.”

“I— Why are you like this?” he asked, making her laugh again. “You know how I feel about you being too nice to me.”

It was a conversation they had countless times in a dozen different ways. The answer was always the same, but he still struggled to wrap his head around it. It was because she cared about him. She cared about him in a way that no one else ever had. With patience and respect, but willing to stand her ground with him when she needed to. Even if she flooded him with sweet gestures, they all came from the heart.

For Cas, one of the main ways she showed affection was through physical touch. Due to his complicated feelings towards sex and other such activities, they decided to have a more caste relationship for a while. Given how frequently they found themselves tangled in blankets during the early stages of their relationship, Astarion thought Cas would have some difficulty with the change.

But she didn’t.

It had been almost a month, and Cas never once tried to pressure him into anything more. Though there were a few instances where their kisses turned a little too heated, she never had a problem with pulling back. Never got upset with him for denying her the physical pleasure she so clearly craved.

Of course, Astarion didn’t hold it against her. She still had certain needs, and he was glad that she didn’t try to deny that for his sake. But he was also glad that she respected his wishes and didn’t try to guilt him over his decision.

Cas held out the bar of shampoo to him and said, “Up to you.”

“Fine,” he replied, sounding about as enthusiastic as a teenager who had been told to wash dishes. “Just try not to get soap in my eyes.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m not going to get soap in your eyes,” she said as if he were being completely ridiculous. Then she pulled the stool in front of the vanity over to the tub and took a seat behind him. “Sit forward a bit so I don’t get water outside the tub.”

A little reluctantly, he did as he was told, letting his arm rest atop his bent knees as casually as he could. Yet, despite his outward demeanor, his stomach knotted and his throat tightened. He couldn’t quite place why.

Cas had seen him naked plenty of times between changing his clothes in front of her or when they went to bed together. So it wasn’t his nudity.

Maybe it was just the position.

Naked, vulnerable, with his back presented to someone seated behind him. His teeth clenched as his fingers dug into his leg, hidden beneath the soapy water. He exhaled, but tried to make the sound seem bored or impatient instead of a calming exercise. It wasn’t Cazador, and there wasn’t a knife. It was Cas, and a fucking bar of soap.

He needed to pull himself together.

“Close your eyes for a second,” Cas said as she dipped a cup into the water.

As soon as he closed his eyes water cascaded over his hair and down his neck. It was warm and soothing. Then she poured another cup of water on him, slowly, until every bit of his hair was dripping wet.

Ever so carefully, Cas ran her fingers through his hair and pulled it back away from his face. A little smile came to his lips. “How would you feel if I started slicking my hair back?”

“I have no opposition as long as you don’t use so much product that your hair looks crunchy.”

He furrowed his brow. “Crunchy?”

“Like Raphael’s.”

“His hair looks more greasy than anything.”

Cas hummed, sounding skeptical, and lathered up the bar of shampoo. “Take a closer look next time he slithers out of Hell. I bet if you touched it it would sound like a crumpled newspaper.”

“I’m not risking getting grease on myself again to find out what that devil’s hair sounds like,” he said, sounding indignant even as he wanted to smile.

It was funny how that worked. One second he was slipping back into one of his worst memories, and then the next Cas was making him want to laugh. It was so easy. It felt almost natural. That whenever he began to slip into darkness, she was always right there ready to direct him towards the light. Sometimes without trying at all.

Cas tilted his head back gently and began to work her soapy fingers through his hair. She started near his hairline, rubbing her fingertips in tiny circles as she worked her way over his scalp. It felt nice. Really nice.

Soon, Astarion found himself closing his eyes. The smell of lavender, the warm water of the bath, and a soothing massage relaxed the bundle of anxiety in his belly. Most of it, at least. Even though he knew in his heart that Cas wouldn’t take advantage of him, he couldn’t completely suppress that twinge of fear.

Part of him still expected Cas to push him. To trail her fingers down his chest, or to dip her hand beneath the water and tread even lower. Cas had never done something like that, and he didn’t think she ever would, but the worry lingered. That, somehow, this kind and sweet woman he knew was just a facade. That Cas was just like everyone else who wanted him just for his body.

Cas placed her hand just above his brow and said, “Keep your eyes closed.” Shielding his face the best she could, she washed away the shampoo. Between each rinse, she massaged his scalp and combed her fingers delicately through his hair.

“I think I got all the grease out,” she said and dunked her hands in the water to remove the lingering suds on her skin. “I have a light oil for your hair if you’d like. It smells nice and it’ll make your hair soft and easy to comb.”

It sounded wonderful. Especially the thought of her fingers gliding through his hair again as he melted into her touch. But his stomach knotted, and he shook his head. “I think I’m alright, my love,” he said and placed a kiss on the back of her hand. “Thank you.”

If Cas was at all disappointed by his refusal, it didn’t show on her face. She just gave his hand a little squeeze. Then she leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his damp forehead and said, “Any time.”

With that, she dried her hands off on a towel hanging over the edge of the tub and put the stool back under the vanity. Then she picked up her hairbrush and started towards the door. “I’ll see you in a bit,” she said and gave him a smile before she left the room.

Astarion sighed once he heard the door click shut behind her. For reasons he couldn’t quite explain, he already regretted turning down her offer. If her shampooing his hair was anything to judge by, it would have been just as nice and relaxing. Maybe they could even talk about something else as ridiculous as what sound Raphael’s hair would make. Who knew? He certainly didn’t because he had let his fear get the better of him.

Yet Cas was patient and she didn’t seem to take it personally. There was just only so much touching he could handle before his train of thought ventured down a dark path. No matter how he tried to redirect it towards the light, he wasn’t always in control, and his mind went there anyway. As frustrating as it was, and though he knew he was safe (or as safe as he could be) with Cas, two centuries of conditioning didn’t go away overnight.

Still, he was getting better. Little by little. And Cas was there with him for every step of the way.

After he scrubbed his body down with soap one more time, he drained the tub and toweled off, finally feeling like all the grease was gone. His hair especially felt good. His hair was still a little damp when he changed into his pajamas.

Cas had gotten the pajamas for him as a gift, and thought neither of them slept, they were soft and nice to lounge in while he did his trance. Just simple, loose, burgundy pants and a stretchy, long-sleeved, gray shirt. Nothing fancy, but he didn’t really need fancy so long as he was comfortable.

When he exited the washroom, he found Cas lounging on the bed clad in her own pajamas, a pencil in hand as she jotted down something in her journal. She glanced up at him and gave him a soft smile. Like she was simply happy to see him. It still felt so strange, no matter how many times she gave him that look. “Feeling better?” she asked, closing her journal to give him her full attention.

The mattress dipped as Astarion sat beside her. He used the movement to tuck her against his side, his arm wrapped around her lithe frame and her head tucked under his chin. “Much better, darling,” he said and rolled onto his back and pulled her fully on top of him. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever had someone wash my hair like that before”

She pushed up with her hands on either side of his head, relieving him of some of her weight. “How did you feel about it?”

He shrugged. “I wouldn’t be opposed to doing it again,” he said as he let his hands wander from her ribcage, to her hips, down to lightly grip her upper thighs. “Perhaps, next time, you might join me in the tub.”

Cas smiled at him. “I don’t think we’d both fit.”

“Not with that attitude,” he said, earning himself a laugh because she was right. Even if the idea sounded nice, there was no way they could both fit comfortably. “I bet this place has a room with a bigger tub. They have to, right? For half-orcs or goliaths or other massive folk. Those would surely fit two little elves.”

She hummed. “If you want to ask the owner to switch rooms, be my guest,” she said, effectively putting the ball in his court. Leaving the decision up to him, with no real pressure one way or another.

“I bet they’d have bigger beds too.” He took her chin between his thumb and forefinger and pulled her down for a kiss. Something chaste and sweet, and he could feel her smiling into it.

Gods. He might very well be in love with her.

“I’ll ask about it tomorrow,” he said. Despite his earlier nerves, it was something he still wanted to do. Especially with Cas. It might be good for him, he thought. Just a small way to be intimate with her that didn’t involve sex.

It would take more than just soap to wash away all of his complicated feelings towards intimacy. Perhaps, he would never be rid of it entirely. But it was a start.

That was something.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #astarion #astarion x tav #astarion fanfic

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yeahyeahchloe · 7 months

Text

It Wasnt in my Head (4)

(a/n: pls lmk if u see any typos! )

Summary: Abby is the starting linebacker at UW and when her team starts to falter her coach decides to get the team into ballet, in order to teach them that grace and stability is important in football too. Abby is just as upset about her teammates about this, until she sees her pretty new ballet teacher...

dancer!reader x football!abby

!!ABBY IS STRAIGHT IN THE BEGINNING. READER IS HER GAY AWAKENING!!

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The light of my slightly opened blinds shone through onto my eyes. The birds were chirping and the sky was a lovely light blue.

And I was pissed off and hung over.

I decided now that its 10 am I should probably pick up Dina's incessant calling and answer Ellies 'im sorry i got u fucked up' text.

My dimly lit kitchen smelled of lavender and burnt toast as I dialed Dina's number and listened to the tone ring.

Oh, so now she isn't going to pick up?

"Hey, D," I said when the ringing stopped.

"Ugh, finally!! I've been calling you all morning," Dina scolded me as if I wasn't so obviously hungover.

"Yeah believe it or not I know,"

"Ok, so, I called to ask you...something,"

This tone with Dina was never good.

This tone means Dina is up to something.

"Oh, jesus, ok what,"

"So, my master plan went perfect last night, and I saw you talking to our new favorite muscle mommy-"

I cut her off by saying "Oh, that was your master plan? It had nothing to do with leaving me to fend for myself so you can make out with Jesse on a couch?"

".....No?"

I let out a quick exhale through my nose, "So whats the question?"

"Obviously my question is: How did it go?"

I sighed and thought back to my interaction with Abby the previous night. "Good. No, bad. Well, good and bad. Gad,"

"What is that even supposed to mean?"

"You knowww, we like talked for a bit and got to know eachother, but the heartbreaking news, is that she is not a carpet muncher,"

"WHAT! NO WAY!"

"I KNOW. You should've heard me she was all: 'you're gay?' and I went: 'you aren't??'"

Dina snorted into the receiver as I laughed along with her.

"Well shoot. That's a bust," She said, still chuckling. "Hey, wanna go to Laverne's? I'm craving pancakes and french fries real bad,"

"Yes please, 'vernies is the best hangover cure"

"Kay, Ill be at your place in fifteen,"

I hung up the phone as my kettle began to whistle at me from the stove.

I walked over, grabbing a mug on the way and poured in the boiling water. I grabbed my favorite tea and walked into my bathroom to help myself to look slightly more presentable.

Jesus I looked like shit.

I began brushing my teeth before there was a knock at my door.

I rolled my eyes at Dina's overestimate of arriving in "fifteen".

"Dina you said fift-" I cut myself off as I swung open the door and was not met with Dina's face.

Are you fucking kidding me.

Abby fucking Anderson was standing at my front door (looking handsome as ever of fucking course) while I looked like I had just crawled out of the sewers.

"Hi" She awkwardly said with a half smile.

"Oh, hey Abby,"

There was a moment of awkward silence before Abby seemingly jolted in memory of why she was at my door to begin with.

"You, uh, left this on the chair you were sitting on last night, figured you might be looking for it," She said, pulling my pink hello kitty wallet out of her strangely large pocket.

"Oh, shit, thanks Abby," I answered before grabbing my wallet back. "I guess that's pretty important,"

Abby exhaled through her nose in a chuckle. "Yeah well I cant be your knight in shining armor every time. Last night hitting hard, huh?" She looked my slightly up and down teasingly and I suddenly felt very aware of my messy hair, thin sleep tank, and pajama pants.

"Yeah yeah I'll be more careful. Thank you again."

"Yeah no biggie. Um, I gotta run, but I'll see you?"

"For sure, see you Abby,"

We smiled at each other before I shut the door.

Oh my god that was so embarrassing.

I glanced at the time and realized I didn't have long before Dina actually got here.

After fixing myself up and being halfway dressed the real Dina knocked on my door. I shouted a "just a sec" before throwing on my jeans and getting my things and opening the door.

"Hi D,"

"Hey sweets, how ya feeling?" Dina teased with a smirk.

I gave her a playful eyeroll accompanied by a middle finger.

She threw her head back with a laugh and wrapped her arm around my shoulder. "I told you not to do that shit anymore,"

"Yeah well after my wakeup call this morning I won't,"

'You're welcome,"

I sighed before replying with "Not yours, although that one was miserable too,"

"Oh? What wakeup call are you referring to, then?" She asked, turning her head in my direction.

"Ugh I'll tell you at Laverne's,"

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The familiar diner smelled like coffee and pie as it welcomed my senses.

Dina and I made a beeline for the back of the restaurant, where our usual table resided right by the kitchen door.

We plopped down in out usual seats and told the waitress our orders before Dina shot me a look.

"...What?" I asked looking around.

"Helloooo, your 'other wakeup call'??" She said looking at me as if I was stupid.

"Oh! Right right, well I had gotten your call, right? And no kidding like two minutes after we hung up there was a knock at my door, so, obviously I thought it was you and answered the door looking like some sort of extraterrestrial and you will literally never guess who was at the door,"

"Was it...girl I don't know just tell me,"

"It was our favorite muscle mommy," I said laughing with embarrassment.

"WHAT?? You're telling me Abigail Anderson was at your fucking apartment this morning??" She asked, a little too loud.

"Jesus, D, keep your voice down. And yes, she was totally there, and looked totally smoking hot,"

"And what did she want?" Dina suggestively wiggled her brows.

"Ugh, unfortunately that's never gonna happen. She was bringing me my wallet, said I dropped it last night,"

"Wait, what? She already have a girlfriend or something?"

"Dina, she's straight, remember?"

"Psh, are you sure? She's like the gayest looking girl I've seen,"

"Dude, I asked. She's straight as a square,"

"Whatever more like a circle"

"Wh-"

I was interrupted by what I thought was the waitress coming in, but was actually Ellie sliding into the seat next to me.

"Hello gentleman" she said with a smirk.

"Hey Els," I greeted my friend.

"Hey Ellie is your f-" I cut off Dina's sabotage with a kick to the shin and my best "you better fucking not" stare before she embarrassed me further.

"What?" Ellie confusedly looked between the two of us.

I gave Dina another look, this time softer and more pleading and I saw her give in.

"Oh, nothing, not important,"

"Hey, liar. What were your gonna say?"

Before Dina could conjure one of her perfect excuses the actual waitress came to give Dina and I our orders, while Ellie made one of her own.

"Ordered a lot of food there, Williams," I teased with a smirk.

"Nah, not all for me," She brushed off my statement.

"Who the hell else would it be for?" I asked, as the answer to my question walked right through the door.

You have got to be kidding.

a/n: hey...hey...how yall doin....

im so sorry for being gone for so long pls forgive me!! Starting up uni again has been rough, especially moving back in for the year. but i promise i will try and update as much as i can.

p.s...it's prob not who u think walking into the diner :3

ok thats all i will say luv u bye

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#tlou #ellie williams #x reader #abby anderson #joel miller #dinatlou #abby anderson x reader #abbyanderson #jessetlou #abby x reader

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