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drabblesandimagines · 4 months

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Elevation

Leon Kennedy x female reader More of my fluffy nonsense

Hunnigan slams the phone down into the cradle at the end of her call and if you hadn’t already been casting auspicious glances up at the scene before you, her actions would’ve made you jump.

“What is it, Leon?” Hunnigan’s tone is blunt.

It would be so easy to look up at the handsome DSO agent then. You’d be perfectly within your right to look up too, your desk opposite sat directly opposite Hunnigan’s so you had ring-side side seats to the commotion. It wouldn’t look odd - he’d be in your eyeline, after all - but you fight the temptation, keeping your eyes fixed on the paper in front of you, fingers tapping idly away over the keyboard as you transpose to the screen.

Exactly what you’ve been doing the past ten minutes that Leon Kennedy has been wandering around the office, dressed in a pair of form-fitting jeans today, his gun holster peeking out from underneath a beloved leather jacket, directing all attention to a certain pair of assets.

Not that you were keeping track of how long he’d been there, of course, you had work to do.

“Huh?” For someone who had apparently been waiting on her call finishing, Leon’s thoughts seems elsewhere.

“I said,” Hunnigan adjusts her tone, “can I help you with something?”

“Does there have to be something? Surely a guy can just come visit his favourite FOS agent.”

“But you haven’t come to visit, you’ve come to loiter.” Hunnigan retorts. “I told you already, if I have anything for you, I will be in contact. Go home.”

There’s an incredulous scoff as he tries to think of a reason to stay, but it quickly transforms into a sigh as he admits defeat. “Fine.”

He begins his retreat towards the exit and you hear the tell-tale beep of his pass against by the door panel, the electronic lock then clunking in release.

“Have a good afternoon, ladies.”

You look up then – and only then - to find him looking directly at you. You give him a polite smile in return. “You too.”

He grins in return, a proper one that makes his eyes crease, before giving you a nod and a wave as he through the door. The smile stays on your lips as you reach for your mug of coffee – now ice cold - and take a sip.

“I think he likes you, you know?” Hunnigan states in her oh-so-nonchalantly way, making you choke on the gulp you’d just taken.

“What? No…! I mean, who?” Your voice is tight in response from having swallowed the liquid the wrong way, internally cursing. Smooth, real smooth.

“Leon.” The agent continues hammering away at her keyboard, kindly ignoring your attempts at being subtle.

“I don’t know where you’ve drawn that conclusion from.” You don’t – you really don’t. You could probably count the amount of conversations the two of you have had with all of your fingers, all just pleasantries.

“I’ve worked with him for years now and he’s never been here as much since your transfer started.”

“Coincidence, I’m sure. He just seems eager for work.”

Hunnigan goes to open her mouth in response when, thankfully, the phone on her desk rings. Saved by the bell.

Being afraid of elevators had never really been an issue until you had taken this assignment, being sent to work on the 12th floor. At the very least it’s proving to be a good workout the number of times a day you now trudge up and down the stairwell from your desk to the archives below. The DSO holds a surprising amount of paper copies of intel in the basement – both handwritten and old typewriter documents - secured behind a vault door, rumours of the place being rigged to ignite in flames if an intruder is detected to prevent it all from falling into the wrong hands.

The DSO board had decided that intel should now be stored in the government-secured cloud and on paper and you’d been brought in as an archivist/analyst hybrid, on loan from the CIA. The project you’d been tasked with, single-handedly, was transferring intel that was currently only held in those paper copies to the online system. There was technology that could do but it wasn’t perfect – scrawled handwriting would often prove indecipherable by most machines or it misread words, so everything would need quality checked. It was agreed a human touch was best and your name had come up after the CIA had undertaken a similar audit of their files a few years ago to excellent results. Once everything had been digitized, it had become easier to quickly identify any links between incidents past and present – using surnames, terms, intel – and even stopped a handful of potential ones, so the DSO had been keen to put the practice in place.

It did mean, however, that every day you’d go down to the vault, select a box of paperwork – either the one you’ve got partway through or a whole new one - trudge back up the many flights of stairs, and then start typing from page to screen to produce a digitized document. It was imperative that no-one else see the documents, so they’d set you up in Hunnigan’s office as one of their most trusted agents.

Wanting to look professional whilst in the office but not break your neck on the stairs, you kept a selection of heels in your locker to swap out of for your reliable sneakers. Hunnigan was still working away when you packed up around 7pm, kicking off your heels to switch out, and had been in a lengthy, hushed tone call for the past hour. You nodded your head as you heaved the box of documents up in your arms, and she waved back in acknowledgement.

Beeping your ID card at the door, the lock buzzed and the door opened automatically – a godsend as the box you had today was particularly heavy – everything within held in those awful arch-lever folders.

As you emerged, you heard the puff of the elevator doors beginning to slide shut, not even giving it a moment of thought. You turned to the left to head down the stairs as usual, when a gloved hand slammed between the elevator doors, preventing them from closing with a thud and giving you a start, turning to see a face.

The face of Leon S Kennedy catches you entirely by surprise. He hadn’t even been by the office today to bother Hunnigan, though you know he does have his own desk somewhere in the building, maybe even his own office. He smiles at the sight of you, beckoning you over.

“Hey. Hop on in - I’m going down.”

You hesitate at the invitation. You haven’t been in an elevator for years and he’s just stood there, waiting, holding the door open. You have to say or do something. “You okay?”

Next thing you know, as if you’d been hypnotized, you were walking towards the elevator, then stepping over the threshold into a place you swore you never would enter again.

“Basement?” Leon fingers hover over the button panel in anticipation.

“Yeah. Thanks.”

He presses the buttons for ground and basement simultaneously with two fingers, and the door slides shut with another puff of air.

The elevator and your stomach begin to descend in unison.

This is fine.

“Looks heavy. Can I…?” He gestures to the box, offering to take it.

“Oh, thanks, but it’s okay.” You bump the box up with your knee, trying to strengthen your grip on it. Your palms are sweaty, but you’re not sure if the cause is the elevator or the handsome man besides you.

Leon crosses his arms, leans back against the wall. “They still not given you a lackey to do all the grunt work? I thought that’s what they took on interns for these days.”

“It’s difficult when no-one else is meant to handle it, let alone see it but me.” Leon gives you a quizzical look at that. “It’s protocol, narrows down the potential for leaks. If anything gets out, it’s on my head, so…”

“What about when you take breaks? You don’t…”

You nod, shifting the box in your arms again. Why do they feel like jelly? “Gotta lug it back downstairs to be locked back in the vault.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Mm-mm. It’s fine – good exercise for me, I guess, between sitting at the desk all day, so…”

“Surely they could at least give you a desk closer to the grou-“

The elevator’s smooth descent is transformed into a shudder, followed by a loud metallic screech and a sharp jerk that makes your stomach truly drop before all motion halts. No, no, no, no.

“Huh.” Leon muses, calm as anything. He immediately presses the emergency call button, illuminated in red, but the only sound that emits out of the speakers is static. He presses it again to the same result, and then in rapid succession, as if that’ll coerce it into working.

You tighten your grip on the box, wanting to tell him to stop but, thankfully, he gives up before you can have the strength to find your voice and pulls his cell out from his pocket.

“Damn, no reception.” He looks back over to you then with a sympathetic smile. “Well, this is one way to get overtime outta us, hey?”

There’s no chance to reply before the elevator plunges into darkness and you drop the box immediately, thankfully away from your feet. It can only be a few seconds at the most but it feels like an eternity before the emergency lighting comes on, casting the small metal prison in a pale yellow hue.

Leon’s staring at you, looking concerned. “You okay?”

“Y-yeah.” You reply, not at all convincingly. You bend down to pick up the box to escape that blue-eyed gaze for a moment, heaving it back up in your arms. “Is this… normal for this office?” You hope he can’t hear how tight your voice is.

“Power must be down, seems like the back-up generator kicked in.” The agent shrugs, looking around the elevator as if something of use might be around. “It’ll prioritize the critical systems – so I’d guess lights, vending machines and elevators are not gonna be particularly high up on that list.”

“Wonderful.” You reply, breathily. It’s warm. Should it be warm? “Here, let me just…” Leon reaches over and gently tugs the box from your weak grip, no sign of surprise at the weight of it as he takes it. “We don’t know how long we’ll be in here, so let’s put this down.”

“No, I shou-“

“I promise I’m not going to try and read any of it.”

You watch him as he places it down, he’s sure to bend with his knees rather than his back, and tucks it into the corner under the button panel, out of the way. He stands back up to his full height, looking at you for a response, but all you manage is a shaky nod.

“Are you feeling okay?” “Y-yeah. Fine.” “Mm. Not a great liar.” He tilts his head, scanning you with his eyes once more. “What’s the matter?” “I…” Another swallow in the hopes of your mouth not feeling so dry. “I don’t like elevators. Always take the stairs.” “Oh.” Not the answer he was expecting it seems. “Wait, why’d you get in, then?” “Well, er…” You hesitate again, how do you answer that? “You… You told me to.”

He can’t help the goofy smile that crosses his face. “Huh, that’s all it takes? Interesting. I’ll have to remember that.”

You’re about to ask him what that’s supposed to mean, the words just on the tip of your tongue when the elevator jerks and they turn into a shriek. It’s over before it even begins, really, but Leon’s reflexes now have you pressed up against the wall, his arms braced above your head to protect it from any sort of impact.

“It’s all right,” he says, softly. “I’m here, I’ve got you.”

Your heart is beating too fast, tears burn at your eyes at the fright. He’s so close, you can smell his cologne – musky, hints of vanilla – but this isn’t where you want to be having this moment.

“How about we sit down, huh?”

“I’m okay.” Your answer is breathy again, your chest feeling tight. Panting like you’d finished climbing up 12 flights of stairs.

“It’ll be more comfortable.”

“Don’t wanna…” You try and take a deep inhale, but it doesn’t seem to reach the bottom of your lungs. “Don’t wanna s-shake it.”

“You won’t.” He drops his arms from against the wall and instead grabs your hand, squeezes it in an attempt to ground you. “Trust me.”

You want to trust him, but the panic is too strong. This was such a bad idea, why did you do this?

“I…”

“We’ll do it together, okay?” He somehow coaxes you to shuffle forward and then slips in behind you, taking hold of your other hand. “Just lean against me and we’ll ease on down.”

Leon presses his chest firmly up against your back and you wonder if he can feel how hard your heart is beating. He wraps his arms around your waist next, meaning you’re hugging yourself in a way before he slides down against the elevator wall, bringing you down with him, onto the carpeted elevator floor. He thought it was a seamless maneuverer, but the way he’d felt your nails dig into his leather gloves from how tight your grip was, he knew you weren’t of the same opinion.

“There we go.” His thighs are spread either side of yours, now that you’re nestled inbetween his legs. “Worried you were gonna pass out – you’d gone really pale. Just sit here and concentrate on your breathing a minute, okay? Feel how I’m doing it.”

You close your eyes and try to concentrate on how he’s breathing, feeling his chest expand as he inhales, loudly and deliberately through his nose, holds the breath, then exhales heavily through his mouth, tickling the back of your neck.

You try and mimic him, get your inhales and exhales in sync and, slowly, the pressure begins to ease in your chest as you feel your breaths get deeper and deeper.

"Feeling a little better?”

His voice reverberates from his chest being pressed up against your back, feels comforting. “Yeah. Thank you.”

“Hey, don’t mention it. My fault you’re in here, after all.” He replies, gently. “I’m gonna move now, okay? Wanna check you’ve got the colour back in your cheeks.”

You nod, and he somehow manages to shuffle back and to the front of you with overly cautious movements – definitely for your benefit, ever the gentleman - withdrawing his legs into a crossed position and giving you a smile as he takes in your appearance. Being so fixed in his gaze makes your cheeks prickle with heat – maybe not the colour he’d hoped to be checking.

“Yeah, you’re looking better. Good.” He nods in affirmation, more to himself than you. “That noise – I think someone was trying to get the power back on, sounds like it only worked for a second before it could get going. The elevator’s not gonna fall.”

“How do you know?”

“I’ve had to disable some of them before – for work, I mean. They’re all equipped with multiple failsafe systems to prevent that exact scenario.”

“Disable them?”

“Just so they stop…” He gestures in a circle as he tries to find the words, “elevating, I guess, so I’m not pursued. Make ‘em take the stairs.”

“Ah, right.” You nod. “Wind them a bit.”

“Exactly. If you don’t mind me asking, you always been afraid of them?”

“No. Got stuck in one in an old apartment block years ago – it didn’t feel particularly modern. There were three of us – me and two drunk guys who kept jumping up and down, convinced that would make it move. The fire department got us out after two hours cos I had one of those… episodes. Haven’t been in one since.”

“Idiots.”

“They just kept laughing the more panicked I got. I felt so stupid.”

“Panic attacks are no joke. That box breathing always helps me if I feel on edge, though.”

“Yeah, that was really good.” You feel a shy smile creep over your face. “If I had to get suck in an elevator with anyone, I’m glad it was you.”

He practically beams. “Now I don’t feel quite so bad. I’ve gotta ask again though, you really got in here just because I said to?” He’s already seen you a panicking mess, so why not just be honest? “Your smile helped too.” “Well, consider me flattered.”

“It’s a nice smile…” You swallow, a little cautious of the next word. “Enticing.”

You swear you see a smidge of colour flush Leon’s cheeks then, but it must be a trick of the artificial lights. “Well, since we’re confessing – yours is too. That’s the real reason I was bothering Hunnigan. Wanted to see if I could win another.”

“You came to see me smile?” You’re definitely blushing now – cheeks prickling with the heat.

“Guilty. I don’t think you’d remember, but a week or so back I was having a real shitty day. Went to go debrief with Hunnigan and she wasn’t there, but you were. When I stormed in, you just gave me the best and most genuine smile I’d seen in days. Meant a lot.” He rubs the back of his neck, sheepishly.

You smile again, can’t help it, and he groans, jokingly. “Ugh, see? Not again – I don’t think my heart can take how sweet it is.”

You don’t know what to say to that but you’re excused when, suddenly, the lights transition overhead with a flicker from the emergency dulled tones to the standard, harsh fluorescent light and the elevator begins its smooth descent once more.

“Finally, huh?” Leon gets up easily to his feet and then offers you a hand.

“Yeah.” You accept it without hesitation, goosebumps prickling up your arm as he wraps his fingers around your hand and he pulls you up with ease. Slyly, his other hand now rests on the small of your back, drawing you in close…

The elevator dings, announcing its arrival on the ground floor and the doors slide open to reveal a maintenance worker, clad in blue overalls, waiting in the lobby. Leon draws back then, but still keeps his hand steady on your back.

“You two all right? Power-cut had rotten timing, I was gonna repair that emergency speaker tonight when most of the office was cleared out.”

“All good, thanks.” Leon bends down, picks up the box again without question and you follow him out of the elevator in pursuit, only to hear a cell begin to ring from his pocket. He balances the box with one arm – you’ve no idea how – and pulls out the device, frowning at the name on screen.

“Sorry, I’ve really gotta take this.” His brows furrow in annoyance. “You be okay with taking that downstairs?”

“Yeah, of course. I really should take it back now anyway, you know, just in case…” You trail off as he eases the box over to you, making sure you’ve got it properly before he lets go. “Thanks… for everything.”

“Pleasure was all mine.” He replies, sincerely, before reluctantly lifting the cell up to his ear.

“Kennedy.”

You leave him to his phone-call and head down the stairs for a thankfully unremarkable trip down to the vaults to replace the box back in its rightful place. It’d be a lie to say when you climbed back up to the lobby that you weren’t disappointed when there’s no trace of him to be found.

The next morning, after passing through the security check, you make your way down to the archive vault as usual, pressing your hand against the door panel to gain access. Sadly, you’ve still got a lot of work to do in the box you’d been working on yesterday, so you dutifully log its withdrawal in the computer system, and heave it up once more in your arms before heading out.

You only make it up one flight of stairs when you see him, leaned up against the stairway wall, one arm held against his chest whilst his other hand is holding his cell, squinting at some text. He looks up as you scuff your trainer on one of the steps and he smiles as you reach him, tucking his cell back away.

“Good morning.”

“Morning. What brings you here?” You curse inwardly. “I mean, not that it’s not a pleasant surprise, just…”

He waves it off. “I getcha. Well, I have some pretty good sway here, you know, so I’ve volunteered.”

“Volunteered for what?”

“Volunteered…” He steps forward and wraps his arms around the box, “..to be your stairs lackey.”

“Oh, no – it’s fine, honestly.” You feel flustered at the very idea. Leon’s one of the top, if not the top agent of the DSO. He can’t be doing manual labour for you, he shouldn’t. “You have so many better things to be doing. I can mana…”

“Please?” He tilts his head, gives you that enticing smile again. “I mean, I could just tell you,” – he teases – “but I thought I’d ask this time, so you’re sure.”

The smile makes you feel weak at the knees and you’d already proven yesterday you couldn’t resist its magic. “Okay. But you should definitely take the elevator then.”

“Uh-uh.” He shakes his head, taking the box into his arms. “It’s good cardio, got my weight-resistance. You’re practically doing me a favour by taking the stairs.”

“Is that so?”

“Mm-hm. Though,” he bites his lip in a pause, “I may have ulterior motives.”

“Right, and what would those be?”

“If I were to, say, visit the office around six tonight and carry this thing back down to the vault, maybe you’d go to dinner with me?”

God, you feel absolutely giddy - there’s no way you can hold back your smile. “I think that’s… acceptable.”

“Then we have a deal. Ladies first,” he nods with his head to up the stairwell.

“No, I… I think you should go first. Just so I can keep an eye on you on the way up. I’ve got to make sure you’re not sneaking a peek at the assets, you know?”

He quirks an eyebrow, you know he’s wondering what you’re thinking, but he shrugs it off all the same. “As you wish.”

And as you follow him up 12 flights of stairs, you slightly breathless and him seemingly fine, you can’t help but sneak a look at a different pair of assets before you.

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melancholymetropolis · 7 months

Text

Big Ole Freak

plot: A curious archivist accidentally summons Ryomen Sukuna

pairings: Ryomen Sukuna x Reader

genre(s): MONSTERFUCKING; Shameless Smut

warnings: unedited (mostly). canon divergence. d/s role. FEMDOM Y/N. bratty sub Sukuna. breathplay. choking (m receiving). reader is shy at first but kinda bossy towards the end. fight for dominance lowkey. PIV SEX. sukuna had four arms and used all of them. TEASING. fingering. creaming. possessive sukuna. feral reader. lowkey pining. talks out love. overthinker reader. pet names (kuna, pet, baby, monster, etc.) dirty talk. oral (f receiving). praising. multiple positions. rounds and rounds and rounds.

w.c: 8.2k

a/n: if I told you that almost 5.5k is smut would you believe me?

“Testing,” I said into the tape recorder. “One, two.”

I played the audio back and grimaced at the sound of my own voice. After years of extensive research, one could only hope to move past that insecurity. I deleted the recording and placed the device on the table. I dimmed the lights within the small community library and opted to turn on a few electric candles. I adjusted my wire-rim glasses and pulled my mini-twists into a ponytail. Once satisfied with the set-up, I slipped on white cotton gloves and pressed play on the recording.

“Good Evening, listener,” I said politely into the device. “My name is Dr. Y/N L/N, senior archivist at Jujutsu Library here in Japan. I hope you are doing well.”

I proceeded to place a heavy box on the table and continued to talk. “I am using this recording to document the initial opening of the Ryomen Grimoire. It was reported to be a book of spells for a powerful emperor named Sukuna, all the way back in the Nara period of Japan. For reference, that would be somewhere in the 1100s.” I cleared my throat the remark and placed two hands on the lid. “There is not that much history on the empire, as his life is riddled with mystery. There are far too many conflicting reports about who Sukuna was and how he came to be one of the most ruthless rulers of all time. Some say it was due to him being orphaned at a very young age. Others say it was his father's abuse of him. Then, there is a tale of lost love. Apparently, a woman he was dating had cheated on him and fallen pregnant with another man’s baby.”

I cleared my throat again and started to rub it gently. There was a subtle tightness around the area that caused irritation to my whole being. But, that hadn’t been the only thing. I could feel chills slowly drifting down my spine and goosebumps began to rise on my arms. The sensation was odd on many accounts. The first being that I was in the basement of the library. It was notoriously known for being without an air conditioner. I had spent many days, drenched in sweat, archiving old materials. There had been a crappy fan stationed here, but its winds were too powerful for such delicate papers. The second odd thing about the room was that I hadn’t been particularly cold, nor scared to obtain said goosebumps. I was not trembling with fear or on the brink of freezing to death. My body was utterly calm and my mind totally clear. My temperature was neutral; I wasn’t hot or cold. Reading grimoires and looking at so-called “haunted” materials was a typical Sunday for me. It wasn’t something that brought me joy or excitement, it was just my job.

“As you possibly tell by my brief description, the stories conflict quite a bit,” I continued on. “One cannot be an orphan with a father or vice versa. In all truth, researchers are all confused as to who he truly is. They are trying to figure out what kind of man he was and how he impacted Japan’s history. This is why the discovery of his grimoire was massive and brought in a lot of attention. Scientists from all over the world are flying in to witness its contents. But, lucky for us, Jujustu Library is the first one to get their hands on it.”

I undid the metal latches on the side and began to raise the lid. A retched stench tore through the air upon opening it. My body shivered with disgust and I felt myself gag a little.

“Note to self,” I said to the recorder. “Please restock facemasks as soon as possible.”

I’d simply cut that part out later.

I tucked my nose in my shirt and inhaled deeply. “I will now take the grimoire out of the box.”

The book was approximately twelve inches wide and fourteen inches thick. When I had dropped my hands in the box and grasped the edges, I could tell by the weight that it was about eight hundred pages long. It was a remarkable five to six inches thick, with a leather buckle holding it shut. I placed the heavy object on the table with a gentle “thud and proceeded to unlatch the leather binding. Small flecks of dust seeped from the pages as the pressure was released from the latch. They painted the white table a subtle rusty brown color.

“It seems to me that the book has been stored in some kind of volcanic environment,” I observed, adjusting my glasses. “The dust particles have a reddish tint to them. This insinuates that the box must've been buried in iron-rich soil. This kind of dirt can be found near recently erupted volcanoes. Magma has high levels of magnetite phenocrysts, which hardens over time and creates magnetite iron.” I looked closely at the lid of the crate and hummed. “This theory is justified by the imperfections on the outside of the crate. There a subtle singe marks on the lib of the box and on the left side. This is interesting, to say the least.” I cleared my throat. “I will now peel back the cover of the book.”

True to my word, I took the cover of the grimoire in my hands gently and peeled it back to reveal the cover page.

“There is a scripture written on the first page,” I said, bringing my face closer to the brown pages. “It’s quite, faded, but I will do my best to read it aloud.”

As definite as the sun

And consistent as the moon

The power of Ryomen Sukuna will possess us all.

The King of Curses is a God to Many

Ruler of all things dark and cruel

Father to the monster of the below.

He feasts on the innocent

Lusts for the wicked

And craves all things violent.

“The last part is a little hard to read. There seems to be a substance covering the last stanza,” I mumbled, a little frustrated at the notion. I sighed deeply and adjusted my position at the table. I walked over to the far edge and dug into my tool bag. I pulled out a magnifying glass and a flashlight. I brought the touch a safe distance away from the book and clicked it on. With the magnifying glass directly behind it, I was able to decipher the words rather quickly.

With the moon at a crescent

And a lady nearby

Ryomen will come alive

She will call out to him

Bring him back to the land of living

And he will conquer it all once again

Suddenly, the light above the table began to flicker and buzz. The moment I raised my head to look at it, the light clicked off. The room was shrouded in darkness, aside from the little flashlight in my hand. I used the little beam to direct myself to the room’s exit. I gripped the handle of the door and gave it a fierce turn, but it wouldn’t budge. It was stuck. With all my strength, I pulled and pushed at the heavy metal door. I tried my best to remain calm. I knew better than to let panic consume my body and make me behave irrationally. This wasn’t the first time creepy things happened when I conducted research on a haunted object. There were instances where the object flew across the room whenever I came near it. Other times, random scratches appeared on my body. I have had my fair share of weird things happening to me in the presence of cursed objects. But, locking me in the room with it was a new one. The entity attached to the artifact would much rather have me far away from it, not in the same vicinity as me.

A warm gust of wind brushed against my back, making my body tense. I could hear the familiar crackle of fire in the distance as a purple-ish light filled the room. I turned my body slowly toward the table. My eyes widened at the sight. A flock of magenta flames had covered the surface of the black table, while black smoke filled the space around it. Within the fire, a deep, menacing laugh appeared. It filled the room instantly and brought shivers down my spine. My legs buckled and eventually gave out as I watched the scene unfold before me. My back slid against the metal door and my rear ended up on the floor. Gradually, a figure started to appear in the flames.

There was a head covered in unruly, spiky hair; which led to a thick neck and shoulders. A set of arms started to materialize, followed by another.

“Dear God. . .” The realization of what was happening had sank in.

That was Ryomen Sukuna.

I had summoned Ryomen Sukuna without meaning to.

I was utterly fucked.

The last part of the body to materialize was the eyes. There were four of them. The first set had sat normally on the face, while the other appeared beneath the. The bright red pupils seemed to glow in the heart of the flames and they seemed to be staring directly at me. A wide, sinister smile slowly formed on the King’s face, followed by a seductive lick across his pointed teeth. The laugh continued to echo throughout the room and it was the thing of nightmares. Something in my being had told me I would not survive the end of the night— that the King of Curses would slaughter me the moment he had the chance. He was not known for being kind, so I knew pleading would do nothing to help me. I would just have to accept my fate, which sucked in more ways than one.

I would never be able to do all the things I always wanted to do.

Like traveling across the world, or sleeping in the Palace of Versailles. I wanted nothing more than to feel like a Queen, even if it were just for a day.

I would never learn how to be a sculptor. I had imagined my work being in museums all over Europe and people calling me the next Divinici.

I would never tell Robert from Accounting how I felt about him. Granted the crush was still fresh and I had just realized my feelings a week ago. But, I was never one to act on those kinds of things. I knew that wanting love would lead to heartache and pain. My dating track record had been nothing short of a horror movie and I never truly had a partner like ever. Which was completely pathetic, since I was swiftly approaching thirty and never even. . .

The clearing of a throat snapped me from my head. I raised my vision back to the table and gulped slowly. The magenta flames had dissipated and the black smoke had cleared. Leaning on the edge was a man— a term I use very loosely. He was massive, probably standing somewhere between eight and nine feet tall. The thick, black-lined tattoos decorated his pale skin. They made him look even scarier. He was shirtless, and his broad chest had a dull sheen to it. He wore a pair of purple, wide-legged pants and traditional Japanese sandals. Even with their loose design, I can almost spot his muscular legs beneath them. Along with a semi-noticeable bulge in the crotch area.

A fierce blush flared up on my face and I quickly looked away.

“So that is why you summoned me?” He teased, crossing both sets of arms across his chest. “The little lamb wanted to get fucked by a real man?”

The voice was deep and unnatural. It sent shivers through my body. The tingles weren’t from fear, however. They were from something else. Something a little more carnal than that.

I slowly raised my body from the floor and pressed my back to the metal door once more. “Well, if we are being quite honest,” I said, clearing my throat. “You are not a man and haven’t been one for a long time. A very long time.”

“Oh?” He smirked, leaning forward just a little bit. “So, you summoned me to get fucked by a monster? Is that it?”

“That’s not it, at all,” I interjected, calmly. “It was not my intention to summon you at all. I was simply submitting your grimoire to our archives. I must have done it by accident, somehow.”

He hummed, unamused.

Sukuna’s four eyes were trained on me. He took in my long passion twists and how they were pulled back into a high ponytail. They traveled down my face, taking in my cocoa skin and plump lips. He held his gaze on my mouth for what seemed like an entirety before moving down to my neck and ample bosoms. He sped right past those and my midsection, before zeroing in on my legs. I had been wearing a skirt that fell just above my knees, so the chubby limbs had been on display. The four pupils seemed to be glued to the pale panty-hose covering the thick thighs beneath them. They seemed to be calculating something. Maybe he was determining just how flexible I was or pondering how a woman could be that tall.

Whatever he was thinking about had swiftly left his mind the moment I cleared my throat.

The eyes snapped back up to me and a wicked grin formed on his face.

“There’s something. . . different about you,” he said, suddenly. “Something. . . off.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, adjusting my glasses.

“Well, if we’re being honest,” he mocked, completely mimicking my statement for moments before. “It is not easy to summon anything, especially a demon. Even a lower-ranking demon would require some kind of preparation before his expected arrival.” The hulking monster took a small step toward me, the smile growing wider. “And as you know, little researcher, I am not an easy demon to summon. It takes a really strong mage to summon me at all, let alone by accident.”

In the blink of an eye, he was right in front of me. His face was inches away from mine and his upper arms rested above my head. One of the hands from the lower arms had taken hold of my chin softly and tilted it upward. It forced me to look him in the eye. The smile on his face was devilish, but not at all sinister. Sukuna didn’t necessarily want to scare me it seemed. His other intention? I had no fucking idea.

“I cannot smell fear on you, little human,” he growled. “Not one ounce. But do you know what I do smell?”

He waited.

He wanted me to respond to his question.

“What?”

“Curiosity.” He let the word roll from his tongue like it was something precious.

“Well, of course,” I scoffed. “I am an archivist. It is my job to be curious.”

“No no no,” the monster shook his head. “That’s not it.” He brought his face closer until our noses were an inch apart. “You are curious about what I can do for you.”

“What are you talking about?” I asked, wiggling my chin from his grasp.

Sukuna moved his back and dropped his smile to a smirk. His upper arms were still above my head, while his lower ones were caging my body. “I can smell you, sweetheart.”

“What?” My eyes widened. “Smell what?”

“Your arousal,” he answered. “And it smells so, very sweet.”

My bottom lip fell between my teeth as felt the blush slowly rise up my cheeks.

His chuckle was deep and raw— and it made my panties even wetter than before. His eyes scanned over my body once again, revisiting the old territory. By the twitching bulge in his pants, I could tell the feeling was mutual. I could feel the heat radiating between our bodies and we haven’t necessarily touched yet. Mine was screaming and begging for my mind to take the opportunity. Finding Sukuna’s grimoire had taken up almost all of my spare time; making it even harder to seek fulfillment in other avenues. I didn’t know when was the last time I entangled my limbs with someone else’s. The temptation was real and strong. I almost didn’t know what to do.

“Hand me the voice recorder,” I sighed with a stern look on my face. “It’s the little gray device near the box.”

With the snap of his fingers, the recording was nestled in my right hand. The King of Curses didn’t move one inch. I brought my eyes back up to his face and took in his devious smirk. It was so knowing and seemed unsurprised of my choice. He almost expected it and I hated that.

I pressed the “stop” button on the device and tossed it aside. I made sure to never break eye contact with the eight-foot monster as my hands lowered to my shirt. My fingers found the buttons and slowly started to undo each one. The King of Curses swiftly lost our little staring contest and stared directly at my chest. My cleavage grew one inch at a time and it seemed he grew harder by the second. Once I was on the last button, Sukuna brought his hands up to touch my breasts, but I immediately slapped them away.

He laughed at the notion. “Oooh, feisty. I love that in a woman.”

“Do you?” I asked with a smile.

“They’re always the best ones to break,” he winked.

I gave him an unamused look. “On your knees.”

A look of genuine shock passed on his face. “Excuse me.”

“Get on your knees,” I enunciated each syllable in the sentence and kept that bored look on my face.

“I think you got it mistaken, sweetheart,” he quipped, bringing his face closer to mine. That time our noses actually touched. “I am the one in charge here.”

A dangerous smirk slowly inched up to my lips and situated itself there. “Tell me, Mr. King of Curses, did you summon yourself or was I the one to do it?”

“You were, but—”

“And according to my research,” I interjected, running a finger along his solid abs. “The summoner is in full control of the demon if there is no bargain made between the two. Meaning, I can keep you here as long as I want and do whatever the fuck I want until I present you with some kind of deal. In other words.” I allowed my hands to slide lower against his abdomen until they brushed against the protruding tent in his leather pants. “I have you by the balls and I am the one in charge.”

There was an expression in his eye that I couldn’t exactly place. It wasn’t anger or frustration. It wavered the line of infatuation and intrigue. Just like me, the nine-hundred-year-old emperor was curious. I don’t think people ever challenged him before, let alone women. It was easy to be afraid of the eight-foot-tall beast. He had four arms and two sets of eyes. All his teeth came down to a point and looked incredibly sharp. He had thick, lined tattoos on every part of his body, including his face. His eyes were an electric red and seemed to bore into one’s soul the longer they looked at you. There were muscles littered all over that massive body and he could move faster than sound itself. Sukuna Ryomen was an obvious apex predator to me and I was nothing but a lamb waiting to be slaughtered.

He could have simply rejected my request and placed me on my knees instead. He had all the power to do it.

Yet, he didn’t.

The King of Curses sunk to his knees slowly, keeping eye contact as he did so. He placed his hands on his lap and sat back on his heels. The demon looked up at me with wonder and a little anticipation. He had no idea what I was going to do next.

I let my open dress shirt slip from my arms and fall into a puddle at my feet. The only thing covering my top half was a simple cotton bra. It was pink and thin. When I looked down, I could see my perfectly pebbled nipples through the fabric.

Sukuna could not stop staring at them either.

Slowly, I lifted my left heel from the ground and took my leather pump into my grasp. I slipped the shoe off and tossed it aside. It hit the marble floor with a delayed “thud”. I repeated the action with the other one and looked down at the red-eyed demon. His eyes were still on my chest. I pressed my back against the metal door once more and lifted my stocking-covered foot to his lap. I rubbed my toes along the thick thighs and inched closer to the leather tent situated between them. Gently, I ran my foot against the erect member. My toes wiggled up the thick shaft, attempting to feel it through the thick fabric. I pressed the ball of my foot atop the member and felt Sukuna shiver beneath me.

“Ooh,” I taunted with a smirk. “So you like that?”

“Yes,” he said through clenched teeth.

“Does it feel good, baby ‘kuna?” I asked, rubbing the ball of my foot against the shaft.

“. . . Yes.”

“Bet you wish I would just unbutton your pants and use my hands, huh?”

The demon groaned and briefly closed his eyes. Sukuna opened his mouth to say something but immediately stopped. He tilted his head to the ceiling and murmured a few words in a language I didn’t recognize. While he was distracted, I removed my foot from his crotch; earning a growl from him. I dropped my hands to my thighs and slowly lifted up my skirt until it was above my rear. I pressed my thumbs in the waistband of both my pantyhose and my underwear and shoved them down. They slid down my smooth legs with ease and ended up at my ankles a moment later. Sukuna’s eyes were back on me. The curly mound was in his eye line and I could see his nostril flare a few times.

It was taking everything in him not to dive right in.

“Come here, pet,” I cooed, widening my legs for him.

The massive demon closed the distance between our two bodies in a heartbeat. Yet, his hands remained on his lap and his gaze was on my face. He was waiting for instruction. I almost giggled at the notion. A famed warlord and emperor was waiting for a mere human to tell him what to do. The situation was ironic in every sense of the word. But, it made my heart swell with pride. I had the deadly man, both alive and dead, on his knees before me. Sukuna was practically begging with his eyes to kiss my cunt. He was doing all he could to be a good little poppet.

“Have a reward for being such an ob—”

My leg was hoisted on his shoulder and the other was hooked on his elevated arm. Both of my feet were off the ground. My thighs were wide apart and my cunt was exposed to the demon’s hot breath. The lower lips were slick and sensitive— which made the sensation even more pleasurable. His heavy, wet tongue slid against the tingling vulva and made my whole body shiver. A silent curse fell from my lips and I took a tight hold of his pink hair. The demon repeated the action several times, before shoving his face between my thighs. His hot mouth latched onto the weeping cunt and began to suck. The air in my lungs had grown thick and it was suddenly hard to take a full breath. In addition to the suction, his plush tongue was lapping against my clit.

“Oooh. . . fuck. . . pet,” I hissed, rolling my hips against his face. “You are so good with that filthy mouth of yours. Keep going like this and I’m gonna cream all over that pretty face.”

Sukuna growled at the statement and pressed his claws into my thighs. The action was light but still heavy. He didn’t want to draw blood, but he still wanted to hold me very tightly.

I lifted one of the massive palms placed on my stomach and lifted it to my face. I took in the thick fingers and the veins along the back of it. There were callouses on the fingers and a few on the inside. His claws were sharp enough to slit a throat, which explains his gentleness with them. I brought the bruised knuckles and gave them a tender kiss. I repeated the action on each finger until I was met with the claws once again. The longer I looked at his fingers, the more I wanted them in my mouth. I lowered my tongue from between my lips and ran the tip of it against the underside of the claws. The demon groaned in response and gripped my thighs tighter. I took long strides against the calloused digits and made sure to keep constant eye contact.

“Can you lose the claws or not?” I asked, breathless.

I could feel my peak gently rising over the horizon. There was a warm sensation slowly growing in my belly and my legs started to buckle. My hips were vibrating against his suckling maw and Sukuna had no intention of stopping any time soon.

Without warning, the claws on all four of his hands started to shrink back into his nail bed. Once they were close enough to the fingertip, the point widened and formed a standard fingernail. It was still black, of course. I smiled wickedly at the fingers and started to lick them all over again. Slowly, I started adding suction to the licks. I moved my lips to each digit, starting at the pinky, until I was left with the middle and an index finger. I bit my bottom lips lightly in anticipation. I was internally scolding myself for being excited over a silly thing.

It was just a hand. It was nothing more. Sure, his palm was almost the size of my face and his fingers were twice the length of mine. It was a standard working man’s hand. The rational part of my brain couldn’t see why a girl would be so infatuated with something so mundane and ordinary. However, the irrational part of my brain couldn’t help but picture them within me. The fingers were so long and inviting— and not to mention pretty thick. Two of them were the width of a standard cock and would fill me decently. But a third would stretch me deliciously. It would do a wonderful job preparing for the monster between his legs.

“Add a finger into my center,” I instructed, lowering his palm from my mouth. “And hook it upward.”

The obedient demon did exactly what he was told and pressed a finger to my center. The digit easily slipped into my awaiting hole. A low moan fell from my lips as he pressed against my G-spot. My hips rolled against his hand, greedy for more friction.

“Add another,” I said quickly.

The need to be stretched was becoming more prevalent and more prevalent. The second finger slipped into my canal and I shuddered. The subtle burn of the intrusion was glorious. The calloused fingertips pressing against the spongy area sent me deeper into bliss. His plump lips were still suckling my throbbing bud. The air in my lungs had gradually started to grow thicker and my body started to tingle. My mouth casually fell open as my eyes closed. My body was buzzing, vibrating from everything that I was experiencing. I had never felt this good with any partner I had. Many would complain about me even asking for oral. While others thought a clit lick was enough to make me cum. Yet, here was a Demon. The King of Curses on his knees feasting on my cunt like it was the last meal he’s ever had. A bloodthirsty heathen, at least according to history, was willing to treat me like a goddess and the mortal men thought me an object.

Of course, it did help that he was attractive— in the worst way possible.

My back arched against the metal door and my hips started to splutter against his face. All the air came rushing into my throat at once. My hand, shakily, gripped one of Sukuna’s spare ones. I interlocked our fingers and squeezed them tightly. I felt the demon tremble from beneath me. My messy cunt humped his pretty face as I rode out the climax. Silent curses fell from my lips like a goddamn sailor and my whimpers were barely audible. Stars exploded behind my eyes and electricity coursed through my veins.

When the wave had come to a staggering halt, I pushed Sukuna’s head away from my oozing pussy. His fingers slipped from my sensitive walls shortly after. The demon set my shaky legs down and sat me on his lap while he rested on his heels. He stared at me with all four of his eyes. A tired smile fell on my lips as I gazed down at him, happily.

“Kiss me.”

His lips were on mine before I could finish the last syllable.

The kiss was slow and sensual. It made my heart grow warm and needy. It felt like something you’d give to a forgotten lover. Like a last effort to remind them of what they had lost. It engulfed me in feelings I hadn’t felt in a long time. Tricked my brain into thinking he actually had feelings for a mere mortal.

I pulled away from the embrace to catch my breath. His kisses continued on. They inched down my jaw and along my neck. My shaky hand reached up to his pink locks and tugged lightly. My body rolled against his; desire was nipping at my heels once more. A pair of hands took hold of my waist and kneaded the soft flesh around it. I sighed, amused at the sensation. The skilled fingers moved lower and lower until they were palming my rear. He squeezed and pinched the soft flesh, growling while he completed the action. The hands moved lower and captured my thighs. He hoisted my body in the air once again. We were still attached at the lips. My hands were in his hair and my hips were rolling against his lap.

"I need you," the demon growled against my neck. "I need to be inside of you. Right now or I'm going to paint the floor with my seed."

He wasn't the type to beg, I knew that for sure. The little statement was meant to suggest that he was nearing his limit. More than ever, he was desperate to be situated between my walls.

A chuckle fell from my lips. "I barely touched you and you're already going to cum? You better not be a minute man, 'Kuna."

He scoffed and lifted his head from my neck. The intensity of his gaze made my insides rumble with delight and my head spin. “Don’t be mistaken, Historian. This little game of yours is truly something, but don’t let it go to your head. I could fuck you to the inch of your life and still wouldn’t reach my peak. You mortals are easy to break, all it takes is a few orgasms and some dirty words.”

I hummed, unamused by the comment. “Is that what you want? To break every woman you come in contact with?”

“Only the pretty ones,” he quipped, pinching my backside.

I didn’t even flinch.

“Well, let’s see how long you can keep up with me, Your Majesty,” I said with a sigh. “Give me your worst.”

“You shouldn’t have said that, little human,” he snickered. “You’re gonna regret it.”

With the flick of his wrist, the remnants of my clothes were in ribbons on the marble floor. Never once did my feet touch the ground in the process either. He cradled me with one pair of arms while using the other to do his dirty work. I was completely bare before Sukuna, and our bare chests were pressed together. His upper arms were caressing and massaging the soft flesh along my back, while his lower arms hooked around my legs and gripped the underside of my thighs. The King of Curses brought his lips to mine once again, before lowering my body onto his awaiting member. I didn’t even notice that he had taken off his pants and exposed the massive rod into the cool air of the room. Due to our position, it was hard to catch a glimpse of what it looked like, but I did feel it.

A gasp fell from my lips as my eyes fell closed. The stretch was delectable and stung marvelously. My oozing walls contracted against the throbbing member, almost begging him for inch after inch. The girth was unimaginable and it almost brought tears to my eyes. I dug my nails into the Curse’s forearms and tossed my head back. Silent moans kissed my lips as my walls continued to ooze all around him. Sukuna’s breath grew coarse and his grip on my thighs was tight. I could feel his eyes staring at me; taking in my lewd demeanor and the feeling of my tight pussy.

Before we both knew it, his entire length was situated in me and it seemed to shock him greatly.

“How fascinating,” he marveled, moving his upper hands to hips. “Never has a human taken all of me, without some resistance. This union is going to be better than I originally anticipated.”

“I’m ready when you are, ‘Kuna,” I said, gripping his forearms tightly.

The eight-foot-tall curse started off slowly raising my body off his shaft and lowering back down gently. It was a cautionary measure to just how much I could take and how fast. Little by little he increased his speed and pressure. More and more my body bounced with such rigor and persistence. I didn’t start to truly make noise until the monster was basically dropping me on his awaiting cock as if I weighed nothing at all. Shouts mixed with moans spilled from my lips as I looked up at his face. Sukuna wore a cocky smirk with pride. It felt as though he was proud of himself for obtaining such a reaction out of me. I dug my nails into his forearms and watched as his smirk faltered from the sensation.

Pain must’ve been the easiest way to his heart.

The heavy member was stretching out my poor womanhood in every direction. However, I could feel the plush head hitting a spot deep within my cunt, just beneath my cervix. The pleasurable sensation was making every nerve in my body sing. The longer his thrusts invaded my welcoming body, the closer I was being brought to orgasm. It wasn’t long before my thighs started to tremble from the insane movements of the monster. A thin sheet of sweat started to form on my body. I could feel my walls flutter rapidly against the massive cock and tension build in my lower abdomen.

“Gonna cum already?” He snickered. “I thought you said I was supposed to keep up with you?”

I lazy smile fell on my lips. “Your ignorance is showing, baby ‘Kuna.”

“Please do share, Miss Historian.”

Before I could reply to the statement, the King of Curse started to drop me even harder on his cock. The additional pressure on my a-spot had forced an electric shock through my body. My upper half jolted forward and my grip on his forearms tightened even more. I could see my knuckles begin to turn white from the hold I had on him. All the nerves in my body began to buzz and my abdomen started to ache. The climax was close enough for me to taste, but not close enough to devour. The need to cum had taken over every other thought in my mind. The worries about how dangerous the monster fucking me had slipped away. I no longer cared that he had been the most dangerous man in history, nor did I care about how completely insane the evening had been with him. I had never imagined being entangled with such a notorious curse and having him fucking me for the last hour with little kickback. I couldn’t believe how much I was enjoying having this monster at my beck and call. Nor could I believe that he sank to his knees and submitted to me.

It wasn’t something I had been expecting, but I sure as hell wanted more of it.

The orgasm struck my body like an arrow and threw me forward. Sukuna quickly repositioned his hands— wrapping two arms around my upper back and two around my waist. My thighs hooked around his hips and my arms were placed around his neck. My entire body was convulsed from the orgasm. I pressed my face fell against his smooth chest as I shivered against him. Curses and whimpers oozed from my lips as my cunt painted his dick with a thick creamy substance. He never stopped his thrusts. Sukuna kept the same, hard and quick pace as I became undone before him. The feeling was completely otherworldly and indescribable. I never wanted him to stop. I never wanted to be apart from him. I wanted our bodies to be joined together forever.

When the final wave of the orgasm left, an insatiable feeling had taken its place. An unrecognizable greed ate at my womb, begging the monster to fill it to the brim with his seed. The need wasn’t something I was ashamed of, but I wouldn’t dare share it with Sukuna. The King of Curses would let the statement go straight to his head.

I lifted my head from his chest and looked into his half-hooded eyes. He was studying me closely. Taking in my every reaction to see what my body craved the most. It made my heart flutter.

While his hips worked their magic, I leaned back into his arms and placed my hands on his shoulders. Slowly, I moved my left hand along his collarbone and placed it at the base of his neck. His eyes were focused on my face, a look of encouragement on his face. He wanted to be choked. His crimson eyes were practically begging me for it.

But, I needed to hear him say it.

I moved my hand back to his shoulder but never broke eye contact. A look of disappointment flashed upon his face before he quickly washed it away

“If you want something, pet,” I offered with a smirk. “You gotta use your big boy words.”

“You’re such a fucking tease,” he groaned, rolling his eyes.

“And you wouldn’t have it any other way,” I replied, the smirk widening to a smile. “Now, come on, baby ‘Kuna, tell your Mistress what you want her to do to you.”

A sigh fell from his lips and he briefly closed his eyes. “Will you. . . Can you. . . choke you me. . . please?”

I could feel my heart flutter once more from the broken sentence. I was almost tempted to ask him to repeat it, but I knew he wouldn’t no matter how much I begged. The shameful look he gave me when he opened his eyes made my insides stir. It added to the overall pleasure of the slow, deep thrusts he had been giving me. My chest was swelling with an emotion I didn’t fully recognize and I was almost scared to acknowledge it. There were remnants of love and longing in his gaze. I had seen glimpses of the emotions earlier, but I had tried to convince myself that I was going insane. Yet, the more I looked at him, the clearer his emotions seemed to me.

Slowly, I placed my hand on his neck and gave it a subtle squeeze.

His eyes fluttered closed and a low groan erupted from his abdomen. “Harder. . .” The request was just above a whisper, but it echoed through my mind loudly.

Like the good Mistress I was, I complied.

Realizing that Sukuna was far from human— and didn’t require air to survive— placed an evil idea in my mind. I mustered up all the strength in my right hand and squeezed his thick neck with everything in me. I watched my knuckles flicker from their usual color to a chalk-white as I did so. The massive monster shivered underneath me and his eyes fluttered shut. Deep, animalistic growls pierced the air around us. They were followed by the swift changing of his thrusts against my body. Instead of fucking me tenderly with a hint of aggression, Sukuna had switched to screwing me like he hated me. His hips slammed against my center with such rigor, I almost couldn’t think straight. My whole body bounced and jumped against his. My breath grew thick in my throat and my nerves seemed to sing. My thighs grew slicker and slicker by the second until I was sure my arousal was oozing all over his lap.

“Fuck!” Sukuna growled, beneath me. “Why do you feel so good around me, mortal?”

I didn’t even have the air to respond to him. My head was doing a dangerous dance and jumbling all the thoughts within it. Even in my sedated state, I maintained the pressure I had on his neck. I could feel his thick member jolt and twitch within me. The reaction seemed to surprise him as well. His body took off in a smooth vibration as growls erupted from his throat. The King of Curses was nearing his end, only after about 30 minutes of constant penetration. To a human, that length of stamina would’ve been impressive. He would have been categorized as a good amongst men. But for a monster? It was questionable. Sukuna was known to fight for days without breaking a sweat. He could obliterate armies and leave relatively unharmed. There had been stories of his whore-ish escapades as well. Tales on how he had to reserve almost ten women in a brothel to get his rocks off. The stories, also, continued to say how each woman had to be given a “rest day” after spending a night with him and would happily do it all over again.

His hips vibrated against my pelvis and I felt his grip tighten on my thighs. A string of curses dripped from his tongue and he squeezed his eyes shut.

“I’m gonna paint those pretty walls with my seed,” he growled, thrusting even faster into my cunt. “Mark my fucking territory so no other man can enter.”

The sensation in my belly was downright undeniable. The chilly approach to the climax had first taken over my toes. Numbness inched up the little nubs and to my calves. However, there was a change in temperature as it approached my thighs. I was no longer cold in that area, but insanely hot. There was heat that radiated from Sukuna and glittered over to me. My thighs felt as though they were burning and my stomach was on fire. Yet, it wasn’t painful. It was pleasurable. It gave me an added adrenaline boost. Instead of freezing like a fawn when the climax approached, I attacked like a bear. My nails dug into Sukuna’s neck and shoulder. I tossed my head back fiercely and felt the scrunchie holding my twists burst. Long strands cascaded over my naked, sweaty body.

“Harder,” I growled, my head tilted to the ceiling. “Come on, pet. Fuck me like you mean it.”

My back hit the table moments later. My thighs were still spread open and wide for the monster. He pressed his body against mine completely— the closest we have been since this whole ordeal— and started to rut into me. Filling me over and over again with his over-sensitive cock. The pants coming from his lips sounded criminal and downright wrong. It was strange to hear a monster almost out of breath, especially when to sex. The activity was so natural in comparison to what atrocities Sukuna was usually up to. It felt like the King was giving me all he had in that last round. Mustering up his last bit of stamina to satisfy his mistress.

That forbidden feeling was stirring in me once again. The one that felt dangerously similar to love. Even with my nearly fucked-out brain, I knew it was impossible to feel that way about someone I had just met a little while ago. It was even more irresponsible to feel that way about a literal King of Curses. A former menace to society in life and current pain in the ass in death. Just as much as Sukuna pleasured me, he annoyed the absolute shit out of me as well. His arrogant attitude and boastful demeanor almost made me hate him. Almost. It was his wavering obedience and the look I got when I choked him that changed my mind. I couldn’t hate him. At least not right now.

The orgasm was mind-numbing and appeared out of nowhere. It was the strongest of the three and seemed to have sent me into the atmosphere. My back arched against the table and my nails dug into his ribs. My eyes rolled back and my mouth fell open. Above me, I could feel Sukuna’s body freeze for a few seconds. His hips jolted and trembled fiercely as his cock spasmed within me. Hot cum spilled from his slit and oozed into my awaiting pussy. Broken breaths fell from his lips as he gathered my body into his arms once again. Sukuna wrapped his arms around me and held me tightly. A searing kiss was placed on my lips as he lazily thrust into my slick cunt. It felt as though he wanted to empty every last drop into me before pulling away.

Yet, even when he finished emptying his load into me, the King of Curses still held me in his arms. The kiss had long been broken, but his forehead was pressed against mine afterward. His eyes were closed and his breathing was soft. There was a peaceful look on his face. He didn’t seem to be the massive warlord, the King of Curses, or the cocky bastard that blew my back out— he was simply Sukuna and that was enough for me. My hands found refuge in his hair. I stroked the pink locks tenderly and hummed sweetly. That forbidden feeling hadn’t left just yet. Everything about that moment oozed intimacy and, dare I say it, love. As much as I wanted more of it— as much as I fucking craved it— I knew it was not meant to be. I knew I had to be satisfied with just this. My hands in his hair and his body against my own.

“You stole something from me,” Sukuna spoke, finally lifting his forehead from mine. He opened his crimson eyes and searched my face. I didn’t know what he was looking for.

I lowered my hand from his hair. “What did I steal?”

“My power,” he replied, wrapping his arms around me and pulling away. “You stole my power. Well, some of it at least.”

I sat up at the edge of the table and combed a twist behind my ear. “What are you talking about? How is that even possible?”

“It isn’t possible!” He snapped back with his back to me.

His heavy feet paced around the small archive room and there was a quizzical expression on his face. The monster had been completely deep in thought. He was working out every possible answer, theory, or hypothesis in his head as to what the hell was going on. Wondering how a mere mortal could conjure him with any preparation. Thinking about how she was able to make him subtle to her with little effort. Questioning how it was even possible that she could steal some of his power if she wasn’t a curse user. I knew what he was thinking because I too was thinking the exact same thing. The situation was bizarre for both parties and left us both stumped.

Until my eyes dropped to the discarded grimoire on the floor and something suddenly clicked.

“I didn’t steal your power,” I said, watching Sukuna stop in his tracks at the sound of my voice. “I contained it.”

Slowly, his head turned to me as the thought penetrated his mind as well. A slow, cocky smile was pulled onto his lips.

“You are my vessel,” he replied. “My anchor in the mortal world.”

“In other words, I am—”

“Destined to be mine. Forever.”

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

a/n: what's good y'all? I know I am hella late to kinktober, but here's my submission. I wanted to do something a little different for you y'all. do you we like the longer stories? how do we feel about the prompts? be honest tell me how you feel about it. i love reading your comments.

also, I will post a new story before the end of October, so watch out for that.

thinking about an official taglist. how do we feel about that?

see you soon.

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811 notes · View notes

marthawrites · 9 months

Note

Hey Martha, I have a request. I'll keep it short.

Aemond, mirror and "I'm going to ruin you for anyone else."

I LOVE this prompt! I hope it tickles your fancy!

After The Study Session

Modern Aemond Targaryen x fem reader

Can be read as a one shot but reads best as part 2 to After The Closing Shift

Word count: 4k+

About: Through the chaos of college and work, yours and Aemond's friendship continues to shift in a new direction. Jason can't seem to accept he's lost you. You and Aemond take matters into your hands to make sure he knows it.

Includes: Plot with lots of porn featuring Aemond and reader being cheeky, mirror kink, vaginal fingering, Aemond being possessive, phone kink, exhibitionism, mild degradation, and unprotected protected vaginal sex

Note: Hello lovely reader! You all loved the phone so much in After The Closing Shift I had to bring it back bigger and better! This is filthy. I hope you enjoy it. Mwah!

The days following what happened after that closing shift were a blur. On top of studying for finals, you picked up a few extra shifts at the restaurant to help pay for your car’s repairs. It wasn’t even that old! But it seemed as soon as one thing started acting up, a hydra effect followed and three more things went wrong. A weird rattle, some obscene squeaking, and a smell that definitely wasn’t normal. And, as if to make matters worse, it turned out the tires were in need of replacement. Great. Just great!

Aemond picked you up a couple more times from work, too. While things never escalated as quickly as the first time, innocence still flew out the window once inside the privacy of his black Mercedes.

Things were different between you two, now. Not in any bad way. Just, different. After the stormy car sex he indeed took you back to his place for the night. Still heated and bold, he joined you and fucked you again against the shower wall. Hot water washed away the mess of sex in a haze of humidity.

Aemond still lived at home, and the Targaryen estate was lavish enough that he had his own wing: bedroom, bathroom, and study. Helaena was off at college, and Aegon was off doing whatever he did during the middle of the night, so you two didn’t have to worry about untimely sibling interruption.

As promised, he gave you one of his t-shirts to sleep in. Soft, worn, and cozy; you joined him in his bed and sleep had come quickly.

Over the span of the next two weeks that was, unknowingly, the last moment of peace.

Finals were right around the corner. You and Aemond had different majors, but electives granted some overlap. You both had the same ancient civilization class and second year sign language. His major was for library science with the goal of becoming either a library director or archivist – perhaps both, if he could swing it right.

Aemond had a wicked sharp mind and he happily led study sessions for your shared classes in the university's library. You never knew him to be easily distracted. With how things were different between you now, however… On more than one occasion his hand slipped down the front of your bottoms, or bunched them down around your thighs, while he covered your mouth as he brought you to peak on his fingers. If both his hands were otherwise occupied, you buried your face in his neck to silence your pleasure. He always made sure to reserve tucked away tables.

It was incredibly distracting.

Yet, still, an even larger distraction clouded your mind. Jason Lannister.

Despite your repeated assurance that you were done with Jason, he persisted. Relentlessly. The fact he overheard you riding Aemond to and through orgasm seemed to matter little. Later, when things finally calmed down from the passionate storm, curiosity made you check your calls: Jason, incoming, over three minutes. He heard everything. You wondered how much of the hushed dirty talk he overheard. ("Listen, okay, I deserved that after all the shit I've put you through," he had said during one of your later arguments.)

Anytime you were with your best friend you made sure to have your phone either on silent or vibrate.

Tonight, vibrate mode.

You and Aemond finished a marathon study session in his wing and were praising all the God's that you were done. It was Friday night, you actually had the night off, and one of the obscure streaming apps just dropped a new anthology series in the same vein as Love Death + Robots. DoorDash dropped dinner off so you didn't even have to get dressed to go out. Nope. Tonight it was you, Aemond, a new show, your favorite food, and some much earned relaxation.

Sometime during the second episode, Aemond, as he liked to do, used your lap as a pillow and you idly ran your fingers through his hair. You tucked your phone beneath the opposite thigh he rested on. It'd been relatively quiet all afternoon and evening, but now it buzzed with two missed calls. "Do you need to get that, bunny?" He asked, peering up at you from the cushion of your thighs.

"Uhm… no, probably not. It can go to voicemail," you answered with more nerves than you intended.

It was enough to pique Aemond's attention. He looked at you suspiciously. "Who is it?"

"It doesn't matter. Whoa! Look! I think this guy is gonna be offered on that stone slab we saw earlier. He's being led to it by those forest freaks!" You prayed distraction would work. This episode was extremely interesting and Aemond hardly blinked until your phone started going off.

He didn't buy it. "Is it still Jason?"

Half a dozen emotions played across your face all at once before you flinched, shrugged, and answered, "yes?"

Aemond's expression, somehow, remained neutral. Though, you saw restrained emotion in the fine muscles of his face; irritation. "Still? Please tell me you're not thinking about getting back with him."

"No! No no no no. I really meant it when I said I'm done. He just keeps trying, ya know? Ugh. No matter how many times I tell him to stop he keeps coming back!" You groaned, frustrated. "And are you kidding, Aems? I haven't been able to think about him or anyone else since the storm in your car…,” you said with pinkened cheeks. “And all the times in the library?” You admitted further, cheeks much more red.

Any trace of anger shifted into pure mischief. “Mm... I was hoping you’d say that.”

“I mean it,” you replied. As engrossed in the episode as you had been, it no longer held your attention while Aemond looked at you like that. “I feel like we’ve hardly got a break since the storm. With work, prepping for finals, homework… and that fucking essay! Agh I swear it’s gonna haunt my dreams for the next week.”

“Hm…,” he hummed, eye sly. “You did very well on it. If I were your professor I’d give you a perfect score. Maybe a couple extra points if you wore these leggings into class when you turned it in.” As he spoke he rolled onto his belly with one arm folded beneath him for support. The fingers of the other played across one of your thighs in annunciation. He eyed his motion appreciatively before turning his gaze back up to you. On the tv someone was definitely screaming, and there was definitely chanting with one of the creepiest film scores you’d heard. Yet, neither of you paid the climax of the episode any mind.

“Aemond…,” his name left your mouth in a whisper. “You can’t look at me like that and expect me to be normal about it.”

“Maybe I don’t want you to be normal about it.”

Your belly flipped and flopped; anticipation and excitement made your breath shudder. This side of your best friend was straight up sinful. The more you two stole these moments away together, the more you wondered how you were able to live without them. And, even moreso, how you were able to stay with Jason when this was right here all along. Two years of on-again off-again happiness, turmoil, and every emotion between. It all seemed such a waste, now, knowing you could have spent those two years with Aemond; not only as best friends, but as his. “You’re such an asshole…,” you said a little too endearingly.

He grinned. Playful.

Reaching, you touched over the left side of his face. He had such a lovely face. Angled, sharp, sleek. As much as he’d roll his eye anytime you mentioned it, he truly looked like a marble statue of ancient antiquity. You traced over the lower portion of his scar that marred from cheek to forehead, mindful to not bother the patch he wore to cover his damaged eye. A terrible childhood accident left it completely dead; colorless, like that of a blind man. Instead of removing it for a prosthetic, he kept it and covered it with an eyepatch. You’d seen him many times without it but it was habitual for him to keep it on. Because, unfortunately, even after all these years, it still made him self-conscious.

He leaned into your touch. "Mm… tell me again how you can't think of anyone else." Turning his head he kissed the inside of your hand, eye an impish sliver of brilliant blue.

"No one else," you answered. "Only you."

"Such a good girl. My good, sweet girl."

At the same time, Aemond leaned up, and you leaned down, mouths colliding in a searing kiss. His lips were soft and warm, yet somehow yours were softer and warmer against his. He stood and urged you up, too, guiding you from the couch to his bed. There, he gently pushed you back onto it. The thread count was higher than anything you owned and it smelled a little like clean laundry and a little like him. With him atop you – your kiss growing heavier and needier by the second – and one of his hands roaming over you, your core ached.

How easily he made you need him.

"You should have told me Jason hasn't been leaving you alone," he said, squinting down at you with a small dark grin. One of his hands wrapped around both of your wrists as he held them above your head. "I could have made him stop by now." He leaned down to kiss you again, taking the time to nip at your bottom lip and kiss along your jaw; slowly, and with meaning.

"Can we stop talking about him?" Your question edged on a whimper when he bit at your neck and gently sucked the skin between his teeth. “I literally don’t give a shit about him and he just won’t stop calling and texting. I thought he might have caught on to the hint by now…” Beneath him, your thighs spilled open enough to accommodate his trim hips. Your knees pushed into his slender waist as you pulled him closer into you. Even his fucking sweats were softer than anything you owned – Targaryens and their insane money. His arousal strained against the material. Your own concealed excitement radiated between your thighs. It was impossible to tell who was hotter – him, or you – when he ground himself against your cunt through your leggings.

He groaned softly by your ear at the sensation, nipping your lobe. “Next time he calls, I’m answering it.”

Heat flooded to your core as goosebumps erupted upon your entire body. In your mind you saw your call log. Incoming, Jason, three minutes. Aemond told you he hung up but he never did. Now, he meant to do it again. Deliberately. With the full intention of telling Jason Lannister to fuck off one more time. Young, and hot blooded, and full to the brim with testosterone, he’d make his point clear.

Aemond’s bunny.

Releasing your wrists from his hold, he leaned up and you did too, watching as he moved across the room. He walked to where your phone lay on the floor and picked it up, putting it in his pocket. You both knew Jason would be calling again soon. Despite the breakup being his fault, he was having a hard time accepting it. Dumbass. A pretty, handsome, smooth-talking dumbass. If his heart was filled with the old-money gold of his family’s name, he’d be a proper himbo. But, alas, it definitely was not.

Wearing a new smirk, now, Aemond held his hand out to you. A wave of butterflies filled your belly as you stood from his bed and walked over to him. Immediately he discarded his shirt before pulling yours off, too. Stepping behind you, he unclasped your bra with a quick flick of his fingers and pushed you in the opposite direction; a line of clothing in your wake. The wall to the side of his closet was lined with mirrors, and that’s the direction he led you. An idea sprung to mind and a second wave of butterflies filled your belly. “Aems, what’re you…?”

“Shh…,” he interrupted, running one hand up your exposed belly, up between your bare breasts, until his fingers delicately wrapped around your neck. Your bodies pressed together and he made the softest, most delicious noise behind you as his rigid cock pressed against the small of your back. He held your phone in his free hand, and with a swipe of his thumb the camera clicked on. “A little secret, a little surprise… what do you think, bunny?” He asked low by your ear.

Through the mirror you watched him watch you; his single eye keen on the subtlety of your growing arousal. He loomed above you, the difference of your height on full display through the mirror’s face. Your neck fit so perfectly in his grasp. You nodded, breathless and dreamy, and as soon as you said “okay” you heard the quiet click of your camera's shutter.

“Good girl…,” he purred, taking photo after photo of differing angles and poses. “Let’s see what Lannister has to say about these, hm? God, we should have done this a long time ago.”

You ached with need. Never before had you taken photos like this with someone else. You had no idea it would be such a turn on. “I know, but we’ve been so busy,” you managed to croak out, the connection between your mouth and brain already beginning to shut off.

“I’m never too busy for you.” He slipped your phone back into his pocket. Using both hands, now, he traced down the slope of your sides until he met the band of your bottoms. He began tugging them down. The natural shimmy of your hips unintentionally (or perhaps wholly intentionally) ground your backside against his hardness. He groaned somewhere deep in his throat, chuckling, as he looked at you through the mirror. “Such a little tease.” He snapped a few more photos before working your underwear down. Once you were out of them he pocketed them greedily.

You reached around and grabbed his cock through his sweats, squeezing and working your hand over it. The choked sound he made had you giggling behind a bitten lip. “Aems, please. Fuck… you’re so hard. I need to have you inside me again.”

It took everything he had to push your hands away. “Not yet, baby girl. I wanna play with your pretty pussy for a little bit first. Make you all whiney and squirmy.”

As if you weren’t already whiney and squirmy enough.

He kicked your feet apart to spread your legs more. “Watch,” he said. Angling your bodies, he stood so you could both see his hand move between your thighs. He dragged his fingers up through your folds, testing your wetness, and rubbed the slick around your already swollen clit. “You’re so fucking wet already. I bet you could take three fingers right now without even working up to it.” Without wasting another moment he slipped one long slender digit into your body. You both gasped. He swirled it around and your pussy squelched with the movement.

A blush crept into your cheeks at the realization of just how wet you were, and he laughed darkly, lowly, behind you. He added a second. All of those beautiful nerve endings along your walls sang with his touch. When he brushed against that roughened spongy spot inside of you, one of your hands flew to the mirror to brace yourself upon your arm. “Holy shit…! Right there, fuck! Please– don’t stop.”

He didn’t. “I’m going to ruin you for anyone else,” he said as he stayed there, right there, fingering you until your pretty eyes were rolled up behind your eyelids. He feathered your clit with his thumb, his forearm flexing with the intensity of his motions. If he looked down he could see what he was doing. If he looked in the mirror he could see what he was doing. And same for you, too – all with his cock still pressed into your back. He had ruined you for anyone else. Ever since the storm in his car, no one else even drifted through your thoughts.

“Oh my god, yes…!” You tensed against him, muscles shaking with the exertion of your building orgasm. The combination of his soft, low, praising voice by your ear, and the unrelenting force of his wrist, had you cresting in the next instant. Bliss washed over you in a lovely wave of brilliance and warmth. You melted back into him, the tightened walls of your body easing and relaxing around his fingers.

“Can you give me one more?” He asked, grinning at you when you turned your face to meet his.

You nodded, still catching your breath. “Yeah, Aems, I can.”

He worked you up again. A little easier this time, however, so he wouldn’t completely overstimulate your senses before he could bury himself inside of you. You were so good and he only wanted to make you feel good. Amidst the finger fucking – you were grinding back against his hand, head tilted back and moaning so prettily – your phone began ringing its vibrating pattern. “I told you earlier I was gonna answer it and I meant it,” he crooned at you, showing you the screen with Jason’s name on it. He clicked the speakerphone on.

“Why the fuck would you send those to me? I’ve been trying to call you for–”

“ –and yet here you are, calling again. Seriously, Lannister, how many times does she have to tell you she’s done before you get it through your head?” Aemond asked, holding the phone in front of both of you so the speaker would catch any noise, large and small alike. “We’re a little busy. Tell him what you told me earlier, baby. He needs to hear it,” he said as he shoved a third finger into you.

You cried out, already nearly blissed out, gasping as he rammed you with the full force of three digits. “Oh my fucking god, yes, Aemond, yes yes yes,” you panted, totally and completely uncaring of how scandalous the scenario was. Despite the filth of it (or perhaps in spite of the filth), you loved it. “Fuck off, Jason. Stop calling me and leave me alone,” you said through a building orgasm. “Aemond’s ruined me for anyone else. Especially you. You cheating piece–,” before you could finish, climax ripped through your body for a second time and any words you were prepared to say were drowned by sounds of release.

Between your peak, and Aemond’s rumbling praises, Jason ended the call.

After catching your breath, you laughed. You couldn’t stop yourself. “Can’t believe that just happened!”

Aemond nuzzled into your neck and pulled you back to his bed where he fell atop it with you. “That should shut him up,” he said with way too much satisfaction; not at all regretting anything.

You looked up at him, bold and daring and mischievous. “I don’t think it will… I think he needs one more good solid reminder. To make sure he really knows he’s lost me.”

“What’re you thinking, bunny?”

You tugged his sweats down with zero hesitation. You tugged his briefs down with even less hesitation. His cock slapped up against his pelvis and you clenched around nothing at the sight of it, at the memory of riding him until you were silly with pleasure. You needed to feel him again. Needed to have his cum dripping from you again. He was the perfect size to stretch your body in the most delicious ways, and as much as you loved his fingers and mouth on you, you craved for more. “Let’s call him again. No speaker phone this time though. Let’s video call him,” your said with bright eyes; excited at the perversion of it.

“You naughty little thing,” Aemond growled down at you, his own eye mirroring yours. You were already facing the mirrored wall, and he flipped you onto your belly and propped your ass up. “Keep those knees under you and keep that ass up. Fuck, baby, you’re so sexy like this.”

You gladly followed his instructions and wiggled your hips in anticipation. “C’mon Aemond, ruin me,” you teased, looking at him from over your shoulder. He didn’t need to be told twice. He lined up with your dripping cunt and sunk into you with enough force to push the air out of your lungs.

Lean, sharp hips slammed against the soft flesh of your upturned asscheeks. “Taking me so well, baby girl. Fuck. Your pussy is so pretty stretched around me like this," he said, big hands spreading your ass apart so he could watch himself stroke in and out of you. Each time he pulled out, his cock glistened with your arousal. It sent his balls aching.

You, somehow, managed to call Jason and he actually answered. When he picked up you saw he was assumedly alone in his bedroom. "Hello? Oh Jesus Christ, you guys. Seriously?"

You had the back camera on and pointed at the mirror so Jason was able to see everything through the reflection. Your face was partially covered from the phone, and Aemond kept his attention downcast to where he thrust into you, the sound of skin on skin slapping through the phone's speakers. "Wanted you to see, Jason," you said through moans, pressing further against Aemond. "Didn't know if you believed the last call. I wanted you to see."

Behind you, Aemond picked up his pace and pressure, slamming into you with renewed vigor. "Just know how well I'm treating her now. And she's getting her pussy ate. Perhaps we'll call and show you that one of these times, too. I always knew you were worthless. Yet you still had the audacity to cheat on her. Fucking scumbag."

Still, Aemond fucked you harder. He wasn't holding back and neither were you. He pulled you up harshly, one arm wrapping around the front of your shoulders while the hand of the other gripped onto one of your hips, squeezing as he held you in place. The angle of the camera gave a new view; your bouncing tits almost as distracting as Aemond ramming in and out of you. There were entire categories on porn sites dedicated to stuff like this, and here Jason was getting it for free.

You didn't know or care about his feelings or reaction. All you cared about was how fucking good Aemond felt inside you.

"I get it. Piss off, both of you," Jason said before he hung up.

Your ex's words barely registered in your brain as Aemond chased his high, pushing you higher and higher all the while. A third orgasm rippled through you with an intensity that had you weightless. Perfectly numb, and light, and satisfied to your bones. He wasn't far behind; your flexing walls sent his cock twitching and unloading his spend against the deepest part of your body. As he pulled out, slowly and carefully and hesitantly, his cum dribbled from your cunt.

"My perfect girl," he rumbled; emptied and sated. "Was that too much?" He asked as he leaned back on his bed with you, scooping you against him in post-climax bliss.

You rested your head on the space below his shoulder, fingertips trailing languidly over the patch of hair at the center of his chest. You hummed. Musing. "No, I don't think so," you finally said. "I think it's exactly what he needed and deserved." Tilting your head, you kissed the underside of his jaw. "I'm all yours, Aems."

"All mine."

Comfortable silence followed. You listened to the steady drum of his heart; fingertips tracing from the hair on his chest to the fine hair below his navel, and all back again. Looking up at him, you said, “I think we should start telling people we’re together.”

“Let’s. I don’t think it’ll be much of a surprise to everyone, bunny,” he said, shifting to look down at you, too. “I can’t wait to see Lannister’s face next time we see him.”

You tried your best to not giggle. “Think he’ll tell others about it?”

“I don't give a shit. Long as he and everyone else know you're mine."

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed, please consider a follow, and/or reblog, and/or letting me know as it all makes me vvvery happy! ♥

To be added or removed from the taglist, hit me up!

Masterlist

Main taglist: @watercolorskyy @melsunshine @girlwith-thepearlearring @arcielee @barbiedragon @bloodwyrmcaraxes @bel-bottoms @fan-goddess

Aemond taglist: @darylandbethfanforever9 @bellaisasleep @aemondsblog @khaleesihel @sirenofavalon @sahvlren @doublesparrows @aemonds-fire @nikstrange @vhagar-burns-for-him @aemondsgirlfriend @lost-and-founds @castellomargot @okfashionista @avidreader73 @snh96

#house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #modern aemond #aemond x reader #aemond smut #aemond fic #request

644 notes · View notes

staretes · 9 months

Text

to sail a ship

synopsis: when you first boarded the express, you immediately managed to become close friends with the archivist of the express. but march doesn't miss the softness in dan heng's eyes, reserved only for you. likewise, march watched as you awkwardly tried to make conversation with him, tinges of red dusted on your cheeks. ever since then, march has made it her personal mission to get the both of you together thankfully for you two, march has the knowledge of hundred of romance shows at her disposal.

tags: dan heng x reader, fluff w.c: 1.5k a/n: aaah first oneshot ^_^ reader is gn, however, they are described by himeko as pretty

phase one: get both of you to recognize your feelings for each other!

"so (name), what do you think of dan heng?"

"huh?!"

march's question's caught you off guard as you started scrambling for an answer. the both of you were in the express parlor car, sipping on juice, when march suddenly popped the question out of the blue. "he's great. i mean, he's a pretty reliable member of our team." you laughed nervously, familiar hints of rose creeping up your face.

"well everyone knows that, but would you date him?" march pressed on.

"uh…" march could practically see the gears turning in your head. but once march saw the small shift in your eyes and the light roses on your face blossoming into crimson petals, she knew her work was done.

"oh no!" march gasps "i totally forgot, i promised to do something for himeko!" she stood up. "bye bye! let's chat again another time, okay?" and before you could get a word in, march had skipped off to her room giggling, leaving you to mull over your thoughts.

however, dan heng proved to be a little (a lot) more challenging.

“hey dan heng, what do you think of (name)?” march inquired after barging into his room after “needing help” with her camera. “they’re a good friend.” dan heng responded curtly, keeping his eyes locked onto the data bank. “if you don’t need anything else, please leave. the archives is not a place for chitchat.”

after march was forced to leave sulking, she had no choice but to drag himeko into it.

himeko manages to corner dan heng after a meeting with the other express members. “dan heng, how do you feel about name? aren’t they pretty?”

after hearing that last part, dan heng’s ears turns scarlet, and he only manages to muster out a small “mhm”.

himeko watched him stumble over his words, and teases, “it’s obvious you like them a lot, you should ask them out! you two look cute together.”

march, watching dan heng excuse himself with his face glowing red from afar, silently promises to treat himeko to a large cup of coffee

phase two: help both of you pursue each other!

you used your shirt to polish the little keychain that you bought at a souvenir shop at a planet the express stopped at that day. as you awkwardly stood outside dan heng’s room, you couldn’t help but remember how you got here.

you were shopping for souvenirs for pom pom with march, when she excitedly tapped you on the shoulder. “hey, doesn’t this cat look like dan heng?” you squinted at the keychain of the cat. the little white cat had red, black and teal spots and a grumpy expression carved into its face with gold. besides the cat, there were little maple leaf charms hanging from the keychain. it really does look like dan heng, you smiled softly. march, noticing the awe on your face, giggled, “you should buy it for him! he’ll like it a lot!” “you think so?” you looked at her apprehensively “if its from you, of course he’ll like it!” march laughs, pretending not to see the faint blush on your cheeks as she pushes you towards the cashier.

as you stand outside the door dan heng’s room, hesitating before knocking on it softly. the door swings open, and dan heng looks surprised to see you.

“ah, (name), i was just looking for you.”

“huh?” you looked at him in confusion. “do you need anything?”

“it’s nothing important. it’s just…” he holds out a small phone charm. your breath hitched. it was made of sparkling beads of your favorite color and at the end, there was a little cat charm that bore a resemblance to you. "you mentioned once that you were fond of cats, so i thought you would like this phone charm.”

you take the phone charm and cradle it gently in your hands, before tenderly attaching it to your phone. “ thank you. i'll cherish it forever,” you whispered with a small grin on your face.

noticing his gaze fall on the keychain still tightly in your grasp, you suddenly felt heat rise to your cheeks and neck. you almost forgot! , “i got you something too! i was at a shop with march and it reminded me of you, so… here!” you ramble hurriedly as you put the keychain into his hands, ignoring your racing heart when your hands make contact. “thanks for the phone charm, i really like it! sorry for disturbing you, have a great night!” you bow to say your goodbyes as you hastened to return to your room.

dan heng, who was left at his doorway in a daze, shuts his door as his hands are gently clutching the keychain. as he carefully inspects it, he smiled softly as his heart flutters in his chest. his cheeks are red as he furiously typed a long thank you to himeko for helping him pick out the phone charm.

phase three: wait for the confession!

dan heng was unable to sleep that night.

his head was filled with thoughts from his interaction with you. his heart is still beating wildly at the sight of you holding the phone charm he gave you as if it was the most previous thing in the world, before giving him something because it reminded you of him. he feels his lips form a small grin endearingly. aeons, he really did like you a lot. he tosses and turns before giving up and goes to the parlor car to try and put his mind to rest.

his heart skips a beat when he finds you sitting there, looking into the blank space absent-mindedly. he greets you with a small “hello.” as he sits next to you

you snap out of your thoughts, and smile nervously, “hey. can't sleep either?"

he nods, and you both sit awkwardly in silence before dan heng speaks up "i realize that i never thanked you for the keychain. thank you. i like it a lot."

you beam, and dan heng feels his heart melt. "it's no problem. actually, march helped me pick it out" you admit. "although i didn't expect you to remember that i liked cats."

"you mentioned it once. of course i remember. " dan heng responds, amused.

you bring up the topic of how the little cat on the end of the keychain you gave him was a calico cat, and you liked those because you found them cute, and dan heng once again remembers that it reminded you of him. the two of you chat late into the night, dan heng's eyes growing softer and softer as he watches you passionately rant to him about everything that piqued your interest recently. you were just so captivating.

"how about you? what's on your mind recently?"

"you."

the word slips through his lips and before he realizes what he said, your face has turned completely red.

he stammers as he tries to pull himself together, "i apologize, i didn't mean for it to come out that way i-"

"you've been on my mind recently too."

you whispered softly, looking anywhere else but him. "hey, we still have a six days before the express leaves this planet, and i saw a small café in the main city when i was hanging out with march. do you want to come with me tomorrow? "

dan heng's heart soars as a small flicker of hope alights in his chest. "yes, i would like that." he nods, ears still a shade of crimson.

"great!" you smiled in relief. "as for the meantime though-h…" you yawned, stifling it into your mouth.

"are you tired? it's late, you should head back to your room" dan heng furrowed his eyebrows. "come on, i'll walk you." he stands up.

you nod sleepily, eyes half lidded, as he puts his hand on the small of your back to guide you to your room. as he watches you lie down on your bed, he can’t help but think about how soft your bed looked compared to his mattress. reluctant to leave you, he tells himself that you needed to rest, so he wishes you a good night and begins to leave.

"please stay."

he hears your sleepy voice behind him and pauses. "you can sleep in my bed tonight. i don't mind.

he hesitates, before lying down next to you. pillows and stuffed toys are scattered throughout the beds. it's cute. he smiles tenderly. he feels you inch closer and closer to him until your head is on his chest. he relaxes as he cards his fingers through your soft hair. "good night, (name). sweet dreams."

the next morning, march peeks through your door, intending to talk to you about dan heng, and instead finds the two of you fast asleep, dan heng's arm wrapped around you, legs intertwined together. the plan worked better than she intended, she grins smugly and takes a picture to send to himeko, never intending to let the two of you live it down.

mission accomplished!

#[✦ - archives!]#dan heng x reader #dan heng fluff #hsr imagines #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #dan heng x you #dan heng x y/n #dan heng x gender neutral reader #hsr x you #dan heng imagines #hsr fluff

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lets-try-some-writing · 1 month

Text

Young Titan

Primes do not live long. This is a fact that everyone on Cybertron has long come to understand. To take the Matrix is to become a martyr, an offering to the people to preserve Cybertron. No Prime has lived long... at least until Optimus.

Now millions of years old and nourished by war and millennia of memory, the Last of the Primes will show all of Cybertron what happens when a Prime is allowed to progress naturally.

(In short: Another funky jam Au for all yall. Enjoy)

━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙ ━━━━━━━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙

War followed them through time and space. There was no escape, not even on Earth. Part of Megatron wanted to stop, but how could he now? So many millennia at war with his foe ensured that there was simply no other choice but to win, to end this conflict.

Optimus Prime had exceeded his every expectation. In the beginning he had fully expected to have to throw his very spark into the war effort. Primes were strong when they were young. But ultimately, Megatron was living under the assumption that the war would come to a close when Optimus inevitably kicked the bucket. The Prime was too strong and too clever to be killed in battle. The most logical end for the war would have to then be when Optimus lived out his life as every Prime before him.

Primes never made it past a million years. Every single one of Optimus's predecessors all met their end long before the million year mark. There was no reason to think Optimus would be any different.

He really should have known his former brother would exceed expectations.

The war went on, and Optimus kept. On. Living.

Nothing kept him down. The Prime got back up and continued the war. Megatron waited, and as the cycles ticked by and the million year mark grew closer, he became more and more concerned. There was no waning in Optimus's power, nor did his mind seem to be deteriorating. If anything, he grew more cunning with time. It was a slow progression, but Megatron saw it. The way Optimus's passion dulled and his rage and empathy shifted. The war stopped being about them and instead became a concept.

Megatron fought, but as he did so, part of his drive changed. Optimus stopped looking at him with the rage of the archivist who was forced to raise a blade as cities burned. Now he watched simply, calmly even. He observed and did what was required. There was no true wrath there, only sorrow and the anger of something unnatural when Autobots and Decepticons alike fell in the line of duty. Megatron did everything in his power to bring out the rage he knew so well. He wanted to see Optimus seethe. He wanted to know that he was not the only one invested in their war. He had to be sure that he was no the only one feeling the loss, the anger, the desperation to win.

Few times did he manage to succeed in his goal. He could count on his digits the number of times Optimus raged as the war started to reach its grim conclusion. By the time the Allspark was sent away, the Prime no longer showed much of anything. He was stoic, unfeeling in the way one feels nothing for insects beneath their pedes. Against Megatron's fears, Optimus did not grow corrupt. Instead, he took his people to the stars and their war continued.

On and on it went, even on Earth. Then, shortly after the arrival of the Elite Guardsmech, things changed. Megatron sensed something was brewing long before, but when the Autobots fell to panic, he knew that whatever his spark warned him of was beginning to form.

Optimus vanished. Not a spark knew where he went. According to reports and what could be gathered from frantic Autobot patrols, the Prime had simply wandered off into the night and never come back. His signal was still active, but his Autobots were unable to trace his location. Megatron couldn't help but search. He reasoned it was to kill his foe while he was weak and alone, but deep down he knew it was because something big was happening. Weeks went by without any sign of him. Megatron was never one to write Optimus Prime off as dead after so many shattered expectations, but he couldn't help but wonder if his life had finally reached its end.

Three months after Optimus's disappearance, Soundwave reported the Autobots gathering around a point of interest. When the Nemesis reached the location in question, Megatron could hardly believe his optics. The Autobots swarmed the area, fortifying and guarding it with their lives. The basic structure of walls and other buildings was clear as day. Wires crept long exposed beams and energon crystals had been turned into liquid which pooled at the center of it all.

But more than that, what left Megatron in awe was the simple fact that spreading along the ground-

Was living metal.

━━━━━━

Ratchet had been with Optimus since the beginning. He watched his friend take on what was essentially martyrdom for the sake of their people. He watched Optimus come into being. He watched his friend turned Prime lead their people to war. And most notably, he watched the changes that occurred in the Prime as time passed.

He grew distant, and not necessarily in the manner of the corrupt. He still mourned the dead and he still felt rage for the loss of their world. But from what Ratchet saw, Optimus felt no solid connection to their faction or any direct function. He said he was a Prime for all of Cybertron, and despite fighting Megatron, to Ratchet it looked as though it were merely a force of habit rather than true conflict.

He cared, he loved, but he did so in a manner more akin to a watchful guardian vaguely displeased with the antics of sparklings. It was infuriating at times, and Ratchet was only able to confirm his friend was still in there when Optimus had moments of rage.

He sensed something in Optimus as he aged. Ratchet grew weaker, bitter, weighed down by aches and pains. Optimus on the other hand seemed to grow stronger. His power did not outright increase, but his spark readings came back stronger than ever and he seemed to be accumulating mass. He didn't get much taller after his initial transformation to Prime, but he got denser. He could put away energon like no one's business and the mech just seemed to gain a more oppressive presence with every passing vorn.

He asked Optimus about it. Optimus had no real answers.

"None have lived as long as I have. This is new, but it is right. I feel that soon I will find my true function. My design shall be made clear."

On and on it went. Times changed, war continued, and Optimus grew more and more imposing. Ratchet half expected him to combust or to lose his mind like many a Prime before him. Instead, a few years into their stay on Earth, Optimus vanished like smoke. He left a simple note telling Ratchet that they would be meeting soon, but that was all. Weeks of frantic searching yielded nothing... at least until they found the only place on the planet where living metal creeped across rock and soil.

Ratchet led the team there, Ultra Magus serving alongside them. When they arrived, they did not know what they were looking at. The beginnings of buildings were forming on their own, and they were quite obviously of Cybertronian origin. Energon gathered on the ground in pools and ran through fuel lines imbedded in the very earth beneath their pedes. The ground itself shifted as they stepped upon it, wires crept from cracks to brush against them.

The land itself was greeting them, and the further into the strange collection of half finished structures they wandered, the more and more familiar it all felt. Ratchet really wasn't sure what he should have expected, but it most certainly was not the frame, or at least what remained of Optimus Prime's frame, sprawled out on the ground connected to a million and one wires. The Prime's spark was not in its chamber, instead it was contained by a structure just beyond what looked to be Optimus's corpse. It thrummed and flared, just as bright and active as ever. The wires continued to run along their frames, the ground shifted beneath them, a gentle rumbling greeting them.

Ratchet looked on, and he did not feel grief. His Prime was not dead. He was welcoming them.

"Optimus greets you."

A voice spoke and that was when Ratchet and the rest saw the true purpose of the place before them. A newbuild, one whose paint still gleamed with the freshness of the newly forged stood before them. A brand new life, a phenomenon that had not been witnessed since the Exodus. Others were developing, their sparks connecting to the living metal all around. This place was a hotspot, and life was forming right before their optics.

"He is happy to see you."

The newbuild smiled, and Ratchet was unsure whether to laugh or to cry. Of course Optimus would do something like this.

Of course he would turn himself into a fragging Titan.

#transformers #maccadam #transformers prime #transformers prime au #optimus prime #team prime #ratchet #megatron #alternate universe #shhhhhhhh dont question me and my weird aus #i have fun writing them

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banalhorrors · 5 months

Text

‘Jon is a better Archivist than Gertrude’ thread was so awesome people should talk about it more. What it means for Gertrude, how she fought the eye at every step, the ominous feeling of what it must mean for Jon every time it comes up. As the listener learns more about Gertrude she becomes a role model for this mysterious Archivist role— she clearly knew far, far more than Jon and had layers of hidden agendas, while Jon is stumbling around in the dark. She’s ruthless in foiling the powers and she seems to be the goal to strive to of how to fight back against this system. But an Archivist isn’t meant to fight. It’s meant to feed. Gertrude valued knowledge, she had skills given by the eye, but she had priorities. Priorities entirely based on stopping evil, including the hunt for knowledge at the center of the beholding’s power. She cared for knowledge only for its practical use. Jon has none of that. His priorities are to find out what the hell is happening, to search for safety, but more importantly, answers. He has a need to seek and protect information. He doesn’t know enough to know what he’s doing dooms him. And, his respect for human life makes him a far easier target. Gertrude was iron willed, Jon is… not. An Archivist who doesn’t like to compel people, who only reads statements occasionally, who intentionally ruins filing systems, who will do anything to get what she wants, in as straightforward a way as possible? A poor victim, indeed. An Archivist who is desperate for anything that will help him orient himself, who takes to his new powers as a lifeline, who will frantically search for ways to avoid violence? Now there’s someone the eye can use!

What’s important to being Archivist isn’t knowledge. It’s hunger. After his realization post-Unknowing, Jon is much less frantic, but just as scared. He’s further into a transformation than Gertrude ever got, the hunger fed fiercely enough that he has no way back. Gertrude kept herself isolated, as a defense, so she could stay practically brutal, but Jon never wants this. His season 2 spiral was caused by his inability to trust anyone— Gertrude simply decided not to. Jon is not in the wrong for this, overall the show frames staying connected to his humanity as a good thing for him. It’s funny that he was far less human while doing it than Gertrude was, alone.

#the magnus archives #tma #jonathan sims #gertrude robinson #uuh I have two finals in 8 hours I didn’t study for #tma spoilers

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annabelle--cane · 4 months

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Hey so I'm not good at subtext and I saw you posting about ep 200 of TMA being awesome. I've listened to it a few times and I'm mostly...confused? I don't understand what happened

(I mean, I get what Martin did to Jon, but nothing other than that)

Would you mind explaining why it's impactful to you?

honestly the main standout thing that makes it really shine to me is the soundscaping and vocal editing, and I've seen people take that as an indirect snide comment about the writing before but it really isn't, the entire scene in the panopticon just sounds gorgeous. the distortion and static on jon's voice, the underscoring of the statement, the way jon and martin's dialogue pops out from the sounds of the crumbling tower, it's just. aaaaaaaaaa. I find it really pleasant to listen to, if you've only listened through speakers then I'd 100% recommend trying it with headphones, it is simply very pretty and well made.

from the story side, it's beat after beat of ultimate catharsis for threads and arcs that have been set up for the whole show.

jon going ham and just really brutally killing jonah with his own hands, no supernatural influence, finally fulling snapping and, it sounds like, gutting him like a fish. it's just about the most lively and impassioned we've heard him all season, and, as far as anyone could deserve to do such a thing, he really is the person who deserved to get to do it.

jon and martin both betraying each other and making the choices that the whole story has been leading them to. jon has spent years fighting against his internalized idea that he can't trust anyone and he's the only person who's powerful/expendable/knowledgeable enough to make decisions and solve problems, and at last he submits to it and takes matters into his own hands. martin has spent years operating under the assumption that he's unimportant and incapable, and now just as he finally accepts that his choices have meaning, he sets the plan in motion that ends up getting them both killed. and jon has tried so hard to be transparent and show him trust that he underestimates just how willing jon is to go behind his back and disregard the plan completely.

and the fuckign. web lighter. I have a longstanding obsession with the mechanics of fate in tragedy narratives, and this lighter. hhh. so, fate (the web) was guiding jon & co to release the fears, but to jon's knowledge, killing jonah and becoming the pupil should have been his winning move to keep them contained. as far as he was capable of comprehending, he made all the right choices, but fate (the web) (the oppressive forces that govern all of our lives) doesn't play fair, it planned for this and cheated him. because he couldn't remember the lighter. he couldn't remember that he already gave georgie the catalyst for the explosion.

this tells me a few things: the ultimate end of releasing the fears was always going to happen, there was nothing jon could have done, but, technically, he could have adhered to the plan and lived to spend what was left of his life with martin and the rest of his nearest and dearest. but that was never really an option, was it? jon archivist sims would never have made that decision, that's why martin tried and failed to plan around it, that's why the web tried and succeeded to plan around it, it would never have happened differently. jon made his choice, it made no difference except to doom himself and the one he loves, he didn't have to do it, and it was inevitable.

and after all of that, after the web cheated him, he could still have won. he could have survived the tower collapse and kept the fears. but one of his biggest stated motives, over and over, is that he can't stand to lose anyone else, and martin is not immune to burning buildings the way he is. in an inverse to gertrude, at the last moment, he chose the barest chance for martin to survive over his own life and principles and big picture goals. he could cope with being responsible for killing the world in the abstract, but when it came to watching the person he loves most die right before his eyes, he caved and came around to martin's perspective. the other worlds can cope, he wants to save the man he loves.

#tma #answered #anons

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earthstellar · 11 months

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Warlord Ratchet: A Fascinating Concept

“And to think, the Doctor of Doom’s mad quest for power continues...! His marauders pursued us to this planet’s orbit.”

What gets me about Megatron telling Orion Pax that the current dilapidated condition of Cybertron was brought about by the Warlord Ratchet, Doctor of Doom (aside from the concept in and of itself) is that he also states that Ratchet has a legion of marauders who carry out his bidding

and because marauders are raiders, and Megatron states they were “pursued by marauders” to Earth, the implication is that Ratchet is not on Earth himself--

-- which is smart on Megatron’s behalf, because this would deter Orion from potentially attempting to leave in order to confront Ratchet and instils a concern that perhaps marauders may appear at any time (at this point, Orion Pax does not yet realise that he is armed and is operating under the belief that he is still an Archivist and therefore not Warrior Class)

but also, this gives us the incredible mental image of Ratchet milling around in some kind of rusted fortress made from the remains of several different Cybertronian buildings, quite possibly the remnants of Iacon -- maybe even the central hospital there, converted into a hive of terror

still living on an otherwise uninhabited planet, with a loyal band of raiding troops who scavenge the remains of their world and possibly other planets as well (as we know these marauders supposedly have space capable vessels), quite possibly doing so in order to source spare parts and other various salvage -- Ratchet is a medic, who knows how he’s been having to piece together his army, repairing them from the remains of random citizens?

and he supposedly, presumably either from his makeshift base in the shadows of Cybertron or from a war ship of some kind, commanded an army of raiders to chase Megatron and his followers as far away as Earth

“I cannot imagine Ratchet capable of such horrors!”

I can only guess at what Orion Pax was thinking in this moment, aside from his immediately stated disbelief: What drove Ratchet to such lengths? What happened to turn his compassionate, caring friend into a warlord capable of carrying out inconceivable destruction? How could such a thing occur, especially at the hands of a respected medic, someone he thought he knew so well?

Would Orion Pax start to blame himself, for what was clearly the brutal decline of one of his greatest friends? I can imagine him starting to wonder if there was anything he could do, any signs of discontent, any indication that Ratchet was headed down a violent, dark path.

And I’m sure he would be concerned about Ratchet himself, as well. How is Ratchet faring, nearly entirely alone on their planet save for his loyal bandits, as aged and worn as he ever has been, possibly accepting a lonely inevitable death on an already dead world?

Or does Warlord Ratchet have yet more plans in store, his instruments of destruction poised to afflict themselves upon other worlds as well?

The Doctor of Doom: How Could This Happen?

It’s somewhat easy to dismiss the idea of Ratchet being this “Doctor of Doom”, because it so wildly opposes what we know of the character and what we know actually occurred with the war.

But when you think about it for a little bit, an unhinged Ratchet would very much be a formidable opponent, especially with his social position in pre-war Cybertron giving him more immediate access to higher class/caste areas than many others would have been able to reach...

...Perhaps this Warlord Ratchet was able to work his way into the Council’s good graces, possibly after attending to one of them after an injury and restoring them to health, gradually manipulating the Senate from the inside in order to secure more power, resources, allies, and ultimately the whole of Cybertron for himself-- Leading to a violent conflict which resulted in the destruction of their world?

With his medical knowledge, even if he started out with a fairly small number of followers and whatever troops he could finesse away from the Council, he may very well have “built” some himself-- We do see in TFP that protoforms may be possible to manipulate into certain frame types, or some types of “cloning” may be possible.

Any version of Ratchet without morals (or at the very least without any medical ethics) is a very dangerous Ratchet.

Repairing the injured via patching them together with the remains of fallen comrades, creating a “zombie” army. Ghoulish, lumbering soldiers, marauders held together with armour designed for other frame types. Instructing his former colleagues (who would likely have at least started out with some inclination to follow him) to carry out “repairs” in such a way.

Warlord Ratchet himself may have chosen to ingest dark energon much like Megatron actually did, perhaps out of a desire to create a new fuel source once Cybertron began to go dark and natural fuel sources began to dwindle. We already know that our actual Ratchet wasn’t afraid to test synthetic energon on himself, with similar motivations.

His base of operations would quite possibly be Iacon’s medical centre, turned into a horrific hive-like structure, some wards actively still in use for repairs (at least for his own followers) and other areas dedicated to terrifying research, with supply basements full of experimental tech and defensive weaponry.

Ratchet’s more support class (as opposed to warrior class) approach to things may well carry over to Warlord Ratchet’s approach to war-- An emphasis on intelligence ops, R&D, indirect and direct manipulation, initial political manoeuvring from within the existing system, and defensive systems to counter any munitions etc. that may come his way from opposing forces.

His initial goals may well have genuinely been intended to improve Cybertron, to help people. Much like Megatron, back when he was Megatronus and wanted a more egalitarian, fair society.

After working on lower class/caste bots who were nearly offlined from a lack of maintenance, poor to no access to healthcare prior to being dragged to him, etc. it may have been the catalyst for his decision to start using his upper class social contacts in an effort to change things from the inside out.

Unfortunately, in this universe in which Warlord Ratchet rose to power, things may have derailed just as severely as they did with Megatronus and his initially well-intentioned efforts.

The longer you think about it, the more plausible it could be.

It would be easy for Megatron to build further upon this idea to manipulate Orion Pax, that Ratchet truly could have done this.

I’m sure Orion Pax did not recharge well, his first night on the Nemesis.

Where did things go wrong? What happened to his friend? How could he do this to their world, a world that Ratchet loved so much?

IDK I just think “Warlord Ratchet” is an incredible idea, and I would have been totally fine if they did a whole season of TFP with the Orion Pax concept lmao

also holy shit Ratchet in a built up fortress of a former hospital with a band of marauders under his command is such a powerful mental image

[Screenshot: TFP Episode - Orion Pax, Part One]

#tfp #transformers prime #megatronus #megatron #tfp megatron #tfp orion pax #orion pax #tf ratchet #tfp ratchet #maccadam #maccadams #warlord ratchet #me thinkin out loud again #long post

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knockout-stan · 3 months

Text

NSFW, fem human, voyeur, Optimus gets curious and checks security cameras to see where you went

- In an uncommon occurrence, Optimus Prime found himself alone at the base, or so he believed. He knew Arcee, Bumblebee and Bulkhead were having leisure time with their human friends.

- Ratchet was out, which was the uncommon part. He had made an offhand comment about his servos stiffening up. Optimus proposed collecting some energon remnants could help. There were some detected in leftover mines that were drained by Megatron's troops. But, any piece counts.

- But the last one unaccounted for was you... Optimus had greeted you earlier, but didn't bid you goodbye. You normally always leave with a goodbye, so you must be somewhere in the base. Optimus approaches the base terminal to access the security cameras. He could go looking for you, but there were some areas of the base the bots didn't fit into. Like the kitchen.

- Optimus checked the kitchen cameras, and failed to spot you. A quick glance to the couch to his left on the platform suggested you were here. Your things were still here after all. Optimus turns his attention back to the cameras, switching to the next place to think of. The barracks.

- The barracks were meant for human soldiers. A decently sized room with two rows of bunks. A few beds were less dusty than the others from the one or two times the humans had sleepovers.

- Optimus spotted the dusty beds, but one was free from dust and finally, he spotted you. His mind was put at ease. It seems you had gone off to take a nap? But your hand is moving and between your thighs…

- "Hm..." Optimus hummed in confusion. What were you doing on the bunk if you were not sleeping? A small whine left your lips, and suddenly it clicked.

- Self pleasure was not an unknown concept to Optimus. But he rarely felt such an urge, if at all. He had other things to do to think and occupy himself with. However, human sexuality was unknown to him. He only had a basic understanding of the human reproductive system, so he was a little surprised to find humans would engage in something like this

- Optimus blinked hard, realizing he was staring and looking quite closely. He had seen enough, and he should give you your privacy. You had gone to the barracks after all, away from everyone else to engage in your self pleasure.

- A curious part of him began to stir however. He had seen diagrams of human reproductive organs of course, he had done some research on human biology when he came to earth. But seeing how your fingers seemed so eager to rub your sensitive parts piqued his curiosity further. The little bud and folds squished and contorted under the touch of your fingertips. That was something diagrams didn't tell him. Of course it was like the rest of the fleshy human body. But Optimus had never seen this before, and the knowledge-hungry archivist mind of his wanted to see more.

- Optimus forced the tab closed. He had watched you pleasure yourself through a security camera. That was wrong, and an invasion of your privacy as well. He felt guilty for doing so, and quietly berated himself for doing so. The thought of apologizing to you diminished as quick as it came. No, he would only stir up trouble that didn't need to be stirred.

- He closed his eyes in hopes to focus on another thought. But he could only see the image of you on the low res security footage laying on your back with your legs open. Your fingers eagerly but tenderly rubbing your clit. And those noises he'd never heard you make before filing his audials even with the tab closed…

- Primus, why couldn't he have just turned it off once he realized?

- The thought of pleasuring himself in his berth room appeared in his mind. Optimus was quick to push away the thought, he had disrespected you enough as it is. He'd need to take a drive, asap. He called Ratchet back to base, opened the groundbridge for him, and as soon as he was able, he was off to patrol.

#optimus prime #transformers prime #transformers fanfiction #tranformers prime x reader #transformers x reader #valveplug #tfp optimus prime #optimus x reader #tfp optimus x reader

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in1-nutshell · 3 months

Note

Okay I just had an idea for The Old Predacon archivist buddy for transformers prime how would ratchet and Optimus and possibly Megatron and starscream or maybe Orion would react to The old archivist Predacon buddy I can just see old Predacon buddy geeking out with Orion and Buddy would be like a mentor to Orion and Buddy would most likely try and make sure the humans stay out of trouble but how would The decepticons react to Predacon buddy go absolutely berserk like They just snap due to Predacon buddy's patience being completely gone because Predacon buddy doesn't really become angry or agitated because they have a lot of patience but at some point they are going to snap and is possibly going to show why they were terrifying in the gladiatorial arenas (also I probably think PreKing would be the adopted kid of old Predacon buddy lol but if you want you can add preKing if you want to) =]

Someone's going to do the impossible... making Buddy snap.

We will get Predaking and Buddy's interactions another time.

Hope you enjoy!

Bot Buddy the Old Predacon archivist snapping

SFW, Platonic, mention of injury, hurt and comfort, Cybertronain reader

TFP

When Buddy was back on Cybertron they had finally managed to score their dream job.

Being an archivist in Iacon.

Not that they really needed the job.

They managed to buy their own freedom from all the fights they fought, and they were still loaded from the other jobs they did on the side.

But they got bored, and they loved spending time in the halls of Iacon, not like anyone would be able to get them out anyways.

Buddy curled up beside one of the shelves intently reading a data pad.

One of the security guards turned the corner seeing the giant bot and just turning the other way.

They weren’t getting paid enough to deal with that.

Buddy managed to become acquainted with one of the clerks in the halls.

A small mech.

Orion Pax.

Orion walking into the halls after getting back from talking with Megatronus.

“Pax! My friend, there you are.”--Buddy

Orion spots Buddy happily walking over to him giving a slight shoulder hug.

Orion reciprocates the hug from his friend.

“I am fine Buddy.”--Orion

“Anything interesting happen?”--Buddy

“Not particularly.”--Orion

“I found the data pad you were looking for.”--Buddy

Buddy passes the data pad to Pax.

“Really? Where did you find it?”--Orion

“On the top shelf.”--Buddy

“…”--Orion

Orion was also starting to think he attracted dangerous looking bots.

Buddy loved spending time with the mech.

He was insightful for his age; it was nice to see it in the younger generations.

Buddy would share bits of their wisdom with him from time to time.

“Word of advice Pax, never get a Predacon angry. Especially in the air, you’ll be asking to get sliced by that point.”--Buddy

“What?”--Orion

“Trust me on that one Pax. It’s not pretty.”--Buddy

“…We were just talking about the rude client that stepped on your tail.”--Orion

When the time came for Orion and Megatronus, Buddy had a bad feeling about the whole meeting.

They never trusted the Senate.

Buddy would have been freed a long time ago if it weren’t for the Senate’s ruling over the arenas, this just further proved it.

Ratchet and Buddy waiting outside.

“What do you think will happen after this?”--Ratchet

“… I do not know Ratchet… Never have trusted the Senate. They are an unpredictable and diabolical bunch, there’s no telling what their agenda is.”--Buddy

Buddy turns to Ratchet.

“No matter what, keep an optic out for Pax for me will you?”--Buddy

“What? Where is this coming from?”--Ratchet

Buddy looking at their servos.

“Someone needs to try and look after Megatronus. Gladiator to gladiator.”--Buddy

“Buddy you’re too old to try and fight him now.”--Ratchet

“I’m not going to fight him Ratchet, just keeping an optic out for him. Hopefully this won’t last too long my friend.”--Buddy

Time skip after Buddy joins the Autobots.

Buddy enjoyed the little reunion with Optimus and Ratchet when they came to the base.

Granted they could have given them a fair warning…

Autobots minding their own business in the base.

Ratchet trying to reach the tool on the high shelf.

Buddy reaching over and handing it to him.

“Thank you.”--Ratchet

“You’re welcome.”--Buddy

“…”--Ratchet

Ratchet suddenly looking behind him meeting the chassis of Buddy.

“BUDDY!?”--Ratchet

Suddenly everyone realizes the giant Predacon on base.

Everyone’s weapons are pointed to Buddy as they calmly continue their conversation with Ratchet.

“Hello Ratchet! It’s been some time, no?”--Buddy

“How—What—HOW DID YOU EVEN GET IN HERE?!”--Ratchet

“I have my ways. Now, where’s Optimus?”--Buddy

Cue Optimus coming in with a data pad in his servo.

Buddy whipping their helm towards the sounds of the pedes and smiling widely.

“Prime!”--Buddy

Optimus having to do a double take.

“Buddy?”--Optimus

Buddy walks over to the Prime giving him a frame crushing hug, while Ratchet is trying to calm everyone down.

“Its been too long my friend.”--Buddy

“I thought that the war—”--Optimus

“Its going to take a lot more than a couple fireworks to keep me grounded Prime.”--Buddy

“Is there a reason why you’re here?”--Optimus

“Yes. I’m helping your side now.”--Buddy

“Why?”--Ratchet

“I will admit I was a fool for thinking there was still room to negotiate things with Megatron, the Predacon incident was the final straw. There is no turning back for him.”--Buddy

“Yeah… sorry about that?”--Bulkhead

“None taken my friend.”--Buddy

“Friend?”--Wheeljack

“Any friend of Pax—I mean Prime and Ratchet is my friend.”--Buddy

“Hey!”--Miko

Buddy looking down seeing a human girl with pink highlights.

“Hello? And who might you be?”--Buddy

“I’m Miko! That’s Jack and the little one’s Raf.”--Miko

“I’m not that little!”--Raf

Buddy watching the three humans have a little squabble.

Buddy is already making an oath to protect these teeny humans with their life.

Buddy loves the kids to death.

But they are going to be the death of them.

Stress is not good for the elderly.

Everyone constantly tries to see where Buddy’s limits are.

So far none of them had reached it.

But someone did.

Starscream did.

He did the impossible.

He made the old Predacon finally snap.

All he had to do was some light kidnapping and harm.

The Second in Command thought it was a great idea to kidnap the kids.

After tracking down their signal, Buddy was the first to find them while Starscream was still in the air.

Then Starscream transformed, letting the children drop out of his cockpit.

Buddy yelled as they dove down to catch them all on their backside.

While inspecting them, they noticed that Miko was holding her leg in pain.

“Is everyone okay?! Miko? Miko, what’s wrong?”--Buddy

Miko holding her leg with tears rolling down her face, biting her lip. Jack and Raf trying to steady her on Buddy’s back.

Buddy taking a better look at Miko’s leg, no leg should have been bent like that.

“What’s wrong Predacon? Your age finally caught up with you? Humans are so fragile aren’t they.”--Starscream

“What. Did. You. Do.”--Buddy

Starscream had the audacity to come over and laugh, admitting to having snapped the leg before tossing her in.

Snap!

Buddy carefully slipped the humans into one of their subspaces and headed into the nearest groundbridge.

Carefully passing them to Ratchet before sprinting back into the open groundbridge.

Optimus suddenly worried for his friend went behind his back in his jet pack. He hadn’t seen Buddy run that fast in a very long time.

The Prime had heard of Buddy’s fighting skills many times, even having the privilege to train a bit with them.

But it was a completely different experience seeing it with his own optics in the air.

Buddy bursting through the groundbridge grabbing their sword with a murderous look on their faceplate.

“STARSCREAM!”--Buddy

Buddy begins to fight Starscream avoiding all missiles and switching between their two modes to fight him.

“Where was this when you were a part of the Decepticons?! Where—”--Starscream

SLAM!

Buddy roundhouse kicking Starscream in the chassis.

“DON’T!”--Buddy

PUNCH!

“TOUCH!”--Buddy

KICK!

“MY!”--Buddy

SLAM!

“KIDS!”--Buddy

If Soundwave had not groundbridged him out of there The Second in Command would have been another number on Buddy’s scored board.

Good news for Starscream.

Bad news for the Decepticons…

Lazerbeak had caught the entire thing on video.

Decepticons looking at the main screen at Starscream’s beat down.

“Oh. My…”--Knockout

“They could have done that!? Here!?”--Breakdown

“…Do you think that the Autobots are still open for new recruits?”--Steve

Meanwhile with the Autobots.

After Buddy calmed down, they went back to the base with Optimus behind them.

The two didn’t talk much going back.

In a way, Starscream deserved that.

No one was going to hurt the kids without suffering any consequences.

Jack and Raf suffered from minor scrapes and bruises.

Miko had her femur snapped in half.

Lucky for her, it was a clean break.

Buddy did not leave the kids side for a long time.

They got too anxious whenever one of them was gone for too long.

To keep some peace, Buddy was allowed to protect them in the base while their guardians still did their jobs.

Especially when Miko decided to try and sneak out on another mission.

Bulkhead was lucky enough to catch Miko and bring her back to base.

“Miko you’re still healing. You still need a couple more days of rest, then you’ll be up and at it no time!”--Bulkhead

“I guess…” --Miko

The two walk into the base hearing a bunch of crashing and metal scrapping.

“Buddy you need to calm down!”--Ratchet

“Where is she!? Where is she?! I swear I just turned my back for one second! What if she’s hurt Ratchet!?”--Buddy

“She’s right there.”--Ratchet

Buddy turning around to see Miko on Bulkhead’s servo.

“Oh, thank the Primes…”--Buddy

Buddy transforms into their dragon form, gently picks up Miko from her shirt, curls up around her while ‘trapping her with their giant claws.

Raf and Jack join in the cuddle pile.

“You kids are not making it easy for an old timer like me.”--Buddy

“Oh please, Ratchet’s the oldest one here.”--Miko

“No, he’s not.”--Buddy

“No, I’m not”--Ratchet

“I’m the oldest one here Miko.”--Buddy

“Wait so you’re older than Ratchet? By how much?”--Raf

“… To put it into perspective, Ratchet is still a kid in my optics.”--Buddy

“How old are you!?”--Miko

“That’s a question for another time Miko. Get some rest.”--Buddy

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