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#i hate this so i'm making sure my followers see this as well
ssa-atlas-alvez · 2 days
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I hate myself for this but... sigh, I can't help it. At least this one is soft and not angsty
Aaron Hitch x Dad Male Reader
Hotch has been having trouble moving on from Haley (maybe divorce?) Despite it being 2 years. Garcia decides to talk him into going on a few blind dates, one of which is a friend of hers from an online RPG. Hotch is reluctant but agrees, trusting Garcia with her taste in friends.
When Hotch arrives at the small restaurant and stares hes there for a reservation that Garcia set up, he's lead to Reader already waiting at a table. Garvia failed to mention that Hotch's blind date was a man and so he's caught off guard. Through the date, it's obvious Hotch and Reader are awkward until Hotch mentions his son. As it turns out, Reader is a single dad as well after his fiance walked out
They bond over being parents and agree to meet up again. So they do, multiple times. They even set up little get togethers between the kids
Hiya, sorry this has take me so long (actually I'm sorry all of my requests are taking me so long aha) but I hope you enjoy it, it was a really cute request! :)
Description: What is says on the tin, really aha
You watch a man approach you and you know its him. Garcia knows your taste in men well and you have no doubt she would have ensured that the date she picked out for you would be perfect.
He approached you awkwardly, seeing that you were the only individual who was on their own. "Are you here for a blind date?" He asked, cheeks tinting pink.
"Yeah, I'm (Y/N), are you Aaron?"
The man, Aaron, nods. He's awkward, which makes you awkward. He sits down, "I'm sorry, I just wasn't expecting a-"
"Man?"
"Yeah,"
"I see... We, er, we don't have to do this, if you don't want to-" You rush out, already standing up.
"No, no, it's okay," He said, giving a small smile, sitting in the chair opposite you. "So, how do you know Garcia?"
"We play the same RPG, but we started talking on the forums and then eventually met up," You nod.
"RPG?" Aaron tilted his head, "That's role playing game, isn't it?"
You nod, grinning, "Yeah." Man, he was just too cute.
He nods as well, with a small smile.
Another minute passed in awkward silence. "So... Garcia mentioned you had a son?" You asked.
Aaron nods, a small smile already painting his face, "Yeah, Jack. He's just turned six."
"Oh, wow, my son's five," You nodded.
"You have a son?" Aaron asked, eyes widening slightly.
"Yeah, Ethan," You grinned. "His favourite thing at the minute is cars,"
"Jack's the same," Aaron said with a small laugh, "Cars and trains,"
"See, Ethan's not hopped on the train trend just yet," You laugh, "He's definitely on the dinosaur trend though,"
"Jack's not gone through that phase just yet,"
"Oh, cars and dinosaurs are all Ethan talks about," You smile.
After that, the rest of the meeting (*cough* date *cough*) went rather well, the initial awkwardness has dissolved and the pair of you stayed out late, talking about anything and everything. He now knew that Ethan's mother had left when he was still a baby, and you knew about the nasty divorce with his ex-wife Haley. You had even arranged a second meeting (read: 'date - sort of') where Jack and Ethan could meet each other the following week.
It was next week before you knew it. Ethan was so excited, practically bouncing off the walls.
"Are they here yet?!" Ethan asked, running in again.
"Bud, I've told you, I'll let you know when they're here-" You said with a small laugh, getting cut off by the doorbell ringing. "And it looks like they're now here,"
"Wooo!" Ethan cheered. "I can't wait to meet them,"
Ethan babbled as he followed you to the front door. "I'm sure Jack's just as excited to meet you," You grin. You really hoped the pair of them got along, you thought as you opened the front door.
"Hi," You breathed, seeing Aaron (that polo shirt on him? Damn).
"Hi," He replied. You grinned slightly, seeing the tips of his ears go pink.
"Hi! I'm Ethan!"
"I'm Jack!" Jack exclaims, equally excited.
"You wanna go play? My dad got me some new cars!"
"I love cars!" You smile as Ethan grabs Jack's hand and they both run off to go and play.
You turn to Aaron, "That looked like it went well,"
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scekrex · 20 hours
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Just Adam getting worshipped. Body worship? Yes. Cock worship? Absolutely. Anything you can think of, You name it. Making Adam feel like a god in bed, not because the reader cares about his status as “first man,” no, no, no, but because they care about Adam.
Bonus points if Adam is insecure about “letting himself go” since Eden and gaining weight (fuck you Lucifer, he’s still hot >:( (Jk bbg I still love u)
Basically, I want this MF to feel loved for being HIMSELF not because of some superficial bullshit he tells himself to the point he starts crying tears of happiness.
Okay so um I kinda got carried away at some points I think and this is the most gentle blowjob I've probably ever written. Also reader doesn't fucking cum, because 'this is about Adam' and bc I said so lol
I hate everyone, it's so easy, I wouldn't do it if I didn't really care
pairing: Adam x male!reader
warnings: language, oral sex, praise kink (implied)
note: not beta read bc fuck you I don't have beta readers
When you gently placed your hand on Adam's chest to push him down against the soft, warm mattress and your touch continued to stay gentle as your hands roamed over his chest it was a little confusing for Adam - that he had to admit. He was used to heated sex, keeping it hot and heavy, rough and hard. Gentle? Well usually the only thing that he considered gentle when it came to having sex with you was the aftercare that always followed.
“Adam?” your voice sounded deeper than it usually did and while the first man was sure he'd find nothing but lust in your eyes, he was surprised to see admiration instead. A soft hum was the only response you got and so you continued, “Did I ever tell you how divine you look?” A smug grin appeared on the first man's face and he cockily replied, “Well, I'm fucking Ada-” you silenced him by kissing his lips, it was just a quick peck and yet it did the job and made him shut up. “No, not the first man type of divine. I'm talking about the Adam type of divine looking.” At that the brunette frowned, he wasn't quite understanding what you meant by that and it was obvious. You chuckled softly at his confused frown and patted his naked chest soothingly, “What I mean,” you hummed as your eyes flickered from his body to his eyes, “Is I'm not saying you're divine looking because you were the first human to be created,” you leaned down to place a gentle kiss on his right peck, “I’m telling ya you're the most holy thing I've ever seen with my own eyes because that's how it is - first man or not.” And that caused a very noticeable shift in the first man's expression.
Adam was quite surprised by the compliment you had just given him - that must have been the first time someone had told him that he meant that much to them, not because of his status, not because he was the first man, but simply because Adam was Adam, simply because someone loved him for himself and not for his rang. The confusion that had lingered in his eyes was replaced by something soft, something close to undying love for you and of course your curious mind noticed that. Your lips tenderly caressed the skin that covered his chest, from his collar bone down to his nipple and from there you left a trail of warm, loving kisses down his stomach until you reached his hip bone. Adam's hand had come up to pet your hair, there was no force, no guidance, he just went along with what you offered him. Because even though he would never admit it out loud, he had let himself go ever since Eden - nothing he could be blamed for, it's been over ten thousand years since his soul had first arrived in heaven. Yet it was something that made him feel uncomfortable if mentioned by others. Lute would joke about his dad-body, and to be completely honest, sometimes her jokes hit something inside of him.
Your lips kissed the skin of his soft belly, oh how you adored his belly, how you adored Adam's form in general. He wasn't ripped, he hasn't been ripped when you met him either. He had what earthlings would consider a small beer belly, you loved the soft meat very dearly. “God created the flesh you're made out of,” you whispered against his warm skin and kissed him right above his belly button, “But you alone make this body so purely celestial.” Adam wasn't sure how he was supposed to react - how would someone react to words as kind as yours even without his ego and insecurities? He didn't know. But he knew that your words made him feel warm, your words caused a smile to appear on his face - not the cocky ones he usually shot you but an honest one instead, a smile caused from pure happiness. “And you’re all mine, mine to love and adore,” you rested your chin on his sternum and looked up at him with the most adoring look Adam had ever seen, “Mine to worship and take care of.”
The brunette shuddered at your words and you noticed how his wings twitched, the light his halo casted over his face flickered for a short moment. The exorcists’ leader knew no one had ever spoken so purely about him, no one had ever appreciated his body the way you did. No one had ever been as honest about loving and adoring him as you were. He was also painfully aware of how all of your words not only went straight to his heart, but also to his dick - his erected dick. Oh to be loved and desired in such honest ways, it surely wasn’t something Adam had ever imagined, it was something the first man had never even dared to dream about. Because how? How should he have been able to dream about love this pure when the women that God had created for him and only him had traded him in for the devil? Yet you worshiped his body like you were the one made for him - and at this point maybe you were, only God knew. Your lips met his skin yet again, kissing town his happy trail until your lips were so, so close to the tip of his dick, Adam was able to feel your hot breath on it, an almost inaudible whine escaped his lips and yet you caught onto it. “I love the way your voice changes whenever you feel aroused, I adore the way you let me know I’m pleasing you well,” you whispered and because the only noise other than your voice was his heavy breathing you knew he had heard every word. “You always brag about being the first man - that all of mankind came from these fucking nuts,” to underline your words properly you ran your tongue over his sensitve testicles, which earned you a loud and strong groan. Your lips brushed against the heated skin of his balls as you continued to speak,”Yet you really have so much more to brag about - starting with your fighting skills, in God’s mighty name Adam, you defeated the radio demon.” Adam wanted to respond to that and if he would have done so, he would have probably said something like ‘His fucking mortal soul was no fucking match to me anyway’. But his response was swallowed by a moan that spilled from his lips as you sucked his testicles into your mouth, wet heat surrounding Adam’s most sensitive era so surprisingly quick that it took him a moment to comprehend what was happening. “Or your body that not only looks like the most holy thing to ever be created, but feels as heavenly as heaven itself - I must know, we are in heaven after all.”
The brunette’s cheeks heated up at your words. He knew you loved him, you assured him you did regularly, no matter if it was verbally or physically. But hearing so many honest and true compliments all at once was doing things to him. He was aware he wasn’t bad looking though most of his confidence was an act. A show to mask the fact that his body hasn’t been in shape for a few thousand years, a show to hide that he wasn’t as perfect as he’d liked to be. And yet you looked at him like he was the most beautiful, divine looking creation in all of existence, like he was actually that flawless, irresistible, pure, angelic dude he always said he was. And deep down inside he knew, Adam knew that even if Lilith or Eve would’ve worked out, even if they both wouldn’t have chosen Lucifer, neither of them would’ve admired and worshiped him the way you did. You. A man that had lived life on earth a couple thousand years after Eden, after Adam’s soul had entered heaven. A man that Adam had accepted as an equal way too quickly - not that you had disappointed him, you had gladly taken the equality Adam had been showing you, and now you were about to give some of it back to the brunette. His large hands were still buried in your hair as you licked up his balls, over his shaft all the way until you reached the tip. His grip tightened and his body tensed up a little - not due to discomfort but due to pleasure that shot through your body and wouldn’t stop, oh dear lord the way you made him feel. A woman could never, another dude could never. Only you were able to offer him this kind of bliss. “Please,” to say more wasn’t possible for Adam, he had drowned in the sweetness and kindness of your words, in the comfort your voice had provided and in the satisfaction your touch offered. He was out of his mind, felt your hot mouth closing around his cock and he knew his climax wouldn’t take long to roll over him. But he didn’t mind - cuming soon once was okay, especially given the situation. One of your hands caressed his testicles as your lips worked to swallow his length entirely, but before you were even close to taking all of him in, he whimpered and you were able to make out your name and ‘close’. You hummed around him, giving him the okay to cum inside your mouth and without hesitation the first man spilled his load. Rope after rope of thick warm liquid filled your mouth and you bobbed your head while Adam was experiencing his orgasm. Once the first man was spent, you pulled off his dick, your mouth filled with his seed as you crawled up his body and kissed him. The brunette was too out of it to notice you hadn’t swallowed his load just yet and eagerly parted his lips to deepen the kiss as his arm pulled you close and his now free hand slid down your body to cup your own erection. It was only then and there that he felt his own cum on his tongue - and it wasn’t just the taste of himself that lingered on your tongue, no, it was the entire load he had released inside of you that was now covering the insides of his own mouth. You pulled back a little as you whispered against his lips, “You simply need to know how wonderful you feel on my tongue.” And then you watched as Adam’s adams apple bobbed. He was swallowing his own cum and given his facial expression, he looked quite eager to do so. You gently removed his hand from your erection, moving it up to kiss the back of it instead, “No Adam, this was all about you.”
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xxfangirl365xx · 3 days
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Question: "What is a day you'll never forget?"
Ghoul's answer: The Day we met Show Pony
NOTE: Written in my wattpad a few months ago, i posted Jet's and Kobra's here so here is Ghoulie's (:
Mine predates all of the other guys' stories and it's kinda sappy but why not. Mine was the day I met my fellow prankster Show Pony. Despite popular belief they didn't just roll up and start hanging around with us.
The four of us ( Poison, Kobra ,Jet and I) had been in the zones about a year and had pretty well adjusted to life out in the middle of nowhere. We were on patrol by ourselves, one of the first times Dr.D let us do that alone. Basically we got to drive around all day, nothing usually ever happened. On this day in particular we were on our way home and spotted something off in the distance...Dracs? Possibly. We drew out ray guns and headed over only to be met with a horrifying scene of three people, all fairly young, seemingly dead.
"Dear Destroya" Poison remarked observing the sad scene
They definitely had just escaped the city and made it pretty far into the zones...unfortunately they were unarmed and didn't stand much of a chance.
Jet went to the three and looked to see if by some miracle they were alive. First two were a sad head shake no.
The third person had long dirty tangled black hair and was maybe about 17 years old...about the same age as me. Jet gently grabbed their wrist expecting nothing and were were all shocked when he found a pulse.
" Guys! This one's alive!"
" They're bleeding from somewhere on their head" Kobra noted, hiding behind his brother, scared for who knows what reason.
It's not a secret that I hate blood, I get a paper cut and nearly pass out and the guys make fun of me for it a lot, but this time it didn't bug me, I was much more bothered by the fact this poor kid was now hurt and alone laying next to their dead friends. I wasted no time In gently picking them up and we headed back to the car so we could go back to the diner and hopefully help this kid. I rested their head in my lap to keep them as comfortable as I could on the ride home. I took my vest off and covered them with it because it was getting cold. I felt really bad, you know, I was so lucky to have found a good group to rely on and call my family and I think this made me realize how fortunate I really was. This kid needed a friend and I decided to be that friend.
We got home and I carried their limp body in the diner and laid them on an extra mattress we had.
" YO DR.D" Poison yelled
" What's up boys?" He asked coming into the room a few seconds later ( this was before he hurt his leg)
"We found this wanderer on the route home" Poison explained " Their buddies were dead but they're alive for the time being"
He stood over my shoulder looking at the kid
" Should I call a doctor?" he asked after a second
" Aren't you a doctor?" Kobra asked confused
He laughed, realizing he had never clarified where that title came from
" It's just a name, I ain't got a degree to back it up. I don't know shit about medicine" he continued
" Ohhhhh..." we exclaimed in unison
"I'll call someone" He said leaving the room
I sat next to the kid for a while, just watching the rise and fall of their chest for what seemed like hours until an actual doctor came.
He looked them over before coming to the conclusion they were in perfect health other than a head injury.
" Just keep a close eye on them for the next few days,once they wake up they may be a little out of it but I'm sure they will be okay." He said before him and Dr.D went outside to smoke a cigar and gossip for a while.
" Well, you heard him. I guess they're gonna be alright" Jet said. "Well' I'm gonna go change the tire on the Trans-am, it's got a leak."
" I'll come watch." Poison said , Kobra following right behind his brother
Jet poked his head in the doorway after a second.
"You coming Ghoul?"
" Nah, I'm gonna sit with them." I said
" alright"
I sat for a while enjoying some silence until the kid began to wake up. Of course I had never been in a situation like this before.
I sat next to them and gently moved the hair out of their face.
"Ugghhh-shit" they mumbled groggily
'"Uhhh...Um.." what are you supposed to say in this situation?! " He-y?"
They looked over at me and the first they they said...I kid you not was
" Why do you have a bee on your sleeve?"
I looked at my shirt sleeve..I do have a bee on my shirt. Huh...good observation.
" Who...are you? You look funny." They said again
" I'm Fun ghoul, I'm Killjoy." I explained " what's your name?" I asked, unsure if they could answer that question. To my surprise they answered rather quick
" I've been waiting foreverrr for someone to ask me that. My name's Show Pony." They said slurring their speech.
" Nice to meet you, Show Pony... How ya feeling?"
"I dunno" they giggled
"Looks like you hit your head pretty bad huh?"
" I think so" they said continuing to giggle like a crazy person
" What's so funny?" I asked starting to laugh too
" The room's spinning it's like a carnival ride"
" Oh yeah that is fun- do you like carnivals?"
"Yeah...no clowns though"
" Oh you don't like clowns?"
" nu uh they're creepy and smelly...am I smelly? The dessert is gross." They thought for a second before they started crying
" Am I a clown? I'm weird looking and I smell" they said in between tears
I forgot the kind of wack mood swings that happened when you were going through withdrawals from BLI brainwash drugs.
'"Hey, you're not a clown, don't cry" I said, trying to comfort them.
Without a second though I knelt down further and hugged them.
They stopped for a second and were perfectly still.
" I overstepped and made them uncomfortable!" I said in my head " Oh Ghoul you idiot!"
To my surprise they hugged back and quietly whispered
" Thank you"
I spent the rest of the night doing my best to take care of Show Pony and just chatting and giving them a hard time while they tried to tell lame jokes such as this fun one at 2:07 AM
" Hey Ghoul Knock Knock"
"Who's there?"
" Boo"
" what?"
" Nooo you're supposed to say boo who!"
" Aww don't cry Pony"
" Your a jerk"
Show Pony became very good friends with us all and impressed Dr.D with their intense knowledge of music and when he started his station he made Show Pony his official helper.
So yeah, I love Pony, they're one of my best friends no matter how annoying they can be, one of my favorite people and a part of my large Zone family.
Anyways that's my story, see ya later
-Fun Ghoul
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rotisseries · 3 months
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inspired by elli's poll lol cause this seems fun actually but if you guys have bad answers I'll kill myself on your doorstep or smth
#“rori all of these are your faves how can there be a bad answer” well I still have an internal ranking on some of these#and if all of you pick an option that I think pales in comparison to the others. well. hm#I know what's gonna sweep though because two of these are niche as hell and 4 maybe 5 of these are things you people don't follow me for#fun fact I actually had to scrape my brain to make sure I couldn't come up with any more#I am unintentionally very picky on what is a favorite apparentlyyyy#I also just don't watch/read enough stuff these days so there's that#AND I NEED LONG TERM EXPOSURE TO KNOW THEY'RE STICKING AROUND#so like. I have some options but I don't KNOWWW if they're sticking yet#but this feels like such a small poll lmao#also no sapphics on here this is actually cause I hate women-#NO. JOKING. zelink is here. I almost put gideon and harrow but I'm in a perpetual state of not having finished tlt#and I couldn't put nebetta and darya I was drawing the line at 2 tbos ships. well. actually. changed my mind#not editing these tags actually you guys can see my thought process#WAIT AND SAYMARI. FUCK. I LITERALLY MADE A PLAYLIST FOR THEM I LOVE THEMMM#ok. is 4 tbos ships too many. hmm#I said 2 of these are niche now four of these are niche it's really the “which tbos pairing is your fave” poll#THIS POLL IS SO FUNNY IT'S SO SELF INDULGENT I HAVE TO TAKE OUT AT LEAST ONE TBOS SHIP#I should add one more general one...#cause I do actually want genuine and varied answers I gotta give y'all options so they don't all pool at the first two#I also almost put ellie and abby on here.. that would've been so funny four popular 1 rarepair 3 super niche ships#ellie and abby are soooo interesting to me though so of course the thought of them having something horrible going on together compels me#and they are one of my 3 favorited ao3 tags... they deserve a place...#ok well while I debate on that I'm putting akutagawa and atsushi on here I admittedly have only had like two months of exposure to them#but it is enough I can tell they are so crazy to me#the way my tags are just me overthinking everything on what is supposed to be a fun and silly poll... no one does it like me I'm afraid
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cat-of-starlight · 9 months
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There's been a Limbus Tier List floating around so here's my take :)
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Original -> https://twitter.com/Lobo_Ryuu/status/1668559857140793350?s=20
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serpentblccd · 9 months
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If you can't love me at my female muses, then you can't have me at my male muses!
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kaaaaaaarf · 5 months
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So I watched that episode of Our Flag Means Death where Ed finds the bunny and thinks it's a wolf and thought, what if Remus was a wererabbit and Sirius had no idea? Anyways, have a drabble.
Here I Am (a rabbit-hearted boy)
Hogwarts Era. 654 words. Wererabbit Remus. G.
Remus' floppy ears twitch unhappily. He had been so careful—so careful not to let his friends see the monster he becomes every full moon. He thought he was sneaky, when he made his way out of the castle before dinner—after the other boys had already left for the Great Hall, but here is Sirius, standing above him with wide eyes. He'd seen the whole thing, the whole transformation—running into the clearing before Remus could even shout at him to stop. Before his body bent and twisted violently into a monster.  Remus' tiny body shakes in fear. Finally, after an impossibly long moment, Sirius seems to come back to himself. "R—Remus? Are you—you're a werewolf?"  …I'm a what now? 
"I thought maybe you were upset about Snape ruining your Potions final when you didn’t follow us down to dinner, so I came back to find you and saw you sneak out of the castle. I decided to  follow you, but I didn't think...Oh my God. You're so...so...cute."  Remus' nose twitches in a way that he thinks sufficiently expresses his shock and distaste. He’s not cute. He’s fearsome! An abomination! Sirius, unafraid, crouches down and strokes a gentle hand over the tawny fur on his back.  Okay, well Remus doesn't hate that.  Sirius scratches behind one floppy ear, and it makes Remus’ back foot twitch. Sirius smiles. "Are you a friend, wolf? Merlin, wait til I tell James about this! Our Moony—a real bloody werewolf!" and then as quickly as he’d appeared, he's gone, running off back toward the castle. It's just as well, Remus is dangerous like this. As much as he would love some company on the moons, one bite is all it would take and he could turn Sirius, too. He couldn't live with himself. Remus has just finished snacking on some grass, and is just about to hop into the underbrush to play chase with the rabbits of the Forest, when Sirius comes running back, this time with James in tow. Great. "See James! That's Remus, he's a werewolf!"  James, who is bent over trying to catch his breath, looks up at him like he's stupid. "That's a rabbit, Sirius." "No...I saw him transform—that’s Remus. He's a werewolf." "At best that's a wererabbit." He looks down at Remus, his face twisted in thought. "Sorry Remus, just a sec. Sirius—" he looks back up at the other boy, pinching the bridge of his nose. “—have you ever actually seen a rabbit before?" "Well, not precisely...Grimmauld is in the middle of London, not exactly teeming with rabbits and the like." "Babbity Rabbity? Surely you've read Babbity Rabbity at least." "I'm pretty sure Babbity Rabbity would never make it into the Black family library. Not macabre enough." James sighs. "Okay well, I’m telling you that's a rabbit." James points down at him, and Remus twitches his nose, hoping it conveys how tired he is.  Sirius stomps his feet, insistent. “But his last name is Lupin, not Lapin! He's Wolfie McWolf, not Bunny McRabbit!” “I’m pretty sure his name has nothing to do with which were-animal decided to take a chunk out of him, Sirius!” Remus tries to hop away while they’re fighting, but Sirius spots him and scoops him up into his arms. “Oh no you don’t! Come on Remus, I’ll sneak you back into the castle—get you something to munch on. What do rabbits eat, anyway? Hay? Flowers?”  Human flesh.  “They eat grass and, like, carrots. Good call though, better get him inside before an actual wolf spots him. Come on, Remus.” And that’s how Remus finds himself, a few hours later, in a soft bed, snuggled under the covers with Sirius’ hand gently resting on his furry back. He supposes being found out isn’t so bad, and if he wakes up in the morning—human again, Sirius spooning against his back, he thinks that might actually be even better.
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jv · 1 year
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can you make it so we can turn off people following us? it's getting crazy blocking a 100 pornbots every day. i'd rather just be able to turn off the ability for people to follow me on my blog. and i can't private a main blog, only secondaries of which i have none. i'm a no name blog and it's getting to the point all the porn blogs followers are making me hate coming here. i'll be willing to pay for this feature too. please. i need a break. the new polls option is great, but can we address the actual problem?
I don't see that happening, because... Well, you know, probably not something that would be widely used.
Now, that being said, if bots bother you so much, why not just silence the notifications about when someone follows you and ignore them?
The actual problem is being addressed. I've seen the number of banned accounts in the past few weeks and it's very impressive. Very. But the thing about bots is that at first they are undistinguishable from real humans. Even if someone could screen manually every single new account created (which we aren't even close to be able to do), you couldn't be 100% sure until they exhibit some... Not-human behavior. And that behavior usually involves bothering the real humans or other sentient beings that inhabit our little secret valley
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Be Careful What You Wish For (Say Less series) - LN
Summary: Y/n and Lando have never really got along. So when y/n tells Lando on Thursday that she'd be more likely to suck his dick than him stand on the podium at Silverstone. He decides to make things interesting with that and teach her a lesson to never underestimate him.
Side-pairing: Brother! Danny Ric, friend!Oscar and Reader is 22.
Themes: Smut, blowjob (headpushing), power dynamics, dom!Lando (he's not really soft dom in this one), unprotected sex (I don't condone it but...equally), size kink, some degrading(ish?), I'm not going to lie this is either the best or worst smut I've ever written
Edit: This is officially a new series, part 2 here
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Daniel never really understood why is sister disliked his teammate so much when he moved to McLaren. If she had've been a more important person than he's sure Netflix would've bothered themselves to invest air time on the two not really liking each other.
Y/n has always been close to Max and with him having grown quite a friendship with Lando since the Brit moved to Monaco with many other drivers. She has found herself in his company more. Especially when him and Daniel were teammates.
While she hated the treatment of her older brother in McLaren, she didn't want him to be kicked off the grid and lose his seat. But even now with him as the reserve for Red Bull. She finds herself invited to races by Christian directly since he knows Daniel loves having his little sister there as much as possible.
She has befriended Oscar, but somehow she can't find herself alone with him for long when Lando appears looking rather smug to have found y/n.
"I didn't know you'd be here." Lando comments making her roll her eyes, and the attitude from both of them has Oscar retreating away from them since he will do anything to avoid any side taking between his teammate and the young woman who he considers a friend. He'd already been warned by Daniel that if the two catch each other, it's better to let them hash it out without anyone else trying to step in. "Ready to see me take the podium?"
"Lando, I'm more likely to suck your dick every day for the next year than you take a podium in that tractor." Y/n smirks crossing her eyes while seeing something spark behind Lando's green eyes.
"Is that so?" Lando questions with his tone dropping as he steps closer. "I don't even think you could handle it, y/n."
Y/n scoffs rolling her eyes.
"Just to be clear, my point is that you have no chance at a podium. Just like you have no chance of me ever touching what I'm sure is a very underwhelming dick." Y/n smiles then patting his shoulder, going to pass him only for him to abruptly stop her with his large hand on her bicep.
"Well...if I do get a podium. How about we see just how underwhelming you think my dick is in your mouth then?" Lando questions but she realises very quickly when she snaps her head to look at him. It wasn't really a question. It was a consequence of her actions.
Don't tempt a man by talking about sucking his dick then insult him when there's unresolved tension between you unless you intend to follow through on giving him what you've teased.
Trying to keep her confidence she laughs brushing his hand from her arm.
"Lando, if you get on the podium. I'll let you have me however you want me." Y/n smiles then shooting him a mocking smile. "But let's be realistic. Just like that podium. I'm completely beyond your reach and capabilities."
-
Y/n spending the weekend realising her cockiness and attitude about Lando is not working out in her favour. She even thinks for the few laps that Lando led, he might've not only taken a podium but the race win with it.
That didn't happen since Max, on brand for himself right now, took the lead back. But Lando was chasing him for a while, still fighting for that position till finally Max pulled away from DRS and Lando sort of settled into P2 for the rest of the race.
"Fucking hell." Y/n groans before deciding she needs to make a quick exit when the race is finished because she'll cut out her own tongue with safety scissors before she sucks that man's dick.
Plus she knows he'd only demand she follow through on it because he'd get a power trip.
"Come on, y/n. Gotta celebrate for little Maxie." Daniel smiles clamping his hands-on her shoulder.
"Oh, I'm just going to stay here. I don't feel great." Y/n lies making Daniel frown and offer to stay with her but she shoos him off not wanting him to miss being with the team.
Y/n stays tucked away in there hoping to wait till everyone is clearing out after the trophies are handed out.
She knows the teams all debrief so she uses that time to get the fuck out of there and by some miracle she makes it. Lando doesn't catch her and no one manages to stop her on the way out. Instead she gets to the hotel and washes away the shame of knowing that she will have to dodge races because she's certain that Lando will catch her and assure her that she owes him.
-
With Daniel breaking his wrist, y/n didn't attend races and while she was upset for her brother. Not seeing Lando from Silverstone all the way through to COTA. She feels like he has to have forgotten their little interaction.
He's had more podiums since then and she is beginning to feel like he has to have forgotten. There's no way he'd bother himself to remember. She's certain he's celebrated with a few women so no doubt he doesn't need her on that list.
"How does it feel to be home?" Y/n asks as she walks with Daniel through the COTA paddock.
She's so happy he's back and healed in time for his favourite track. The only thing that would've been worse than him missing COTA is him missing Las Vegas when he spent years requesting it.
"I love it. Even better with you here, I think Max and Christian have missed you." Daniel laughs making her smile at him brightly. "What are you going to do while I'm busy?"
"I don't know. Probably just look around. Might go find Max and Christian." For protection from potentially being cornered by Lando.
"Ok. Well I'll see you later, stay out of trouble."
"I always do." Y/n smiles before her brother kisses her cheek and disappears.
Y/n and Daniel having such a large age gap means that the usual sibling shenanigans of causing trouble together never really happened. Daniel was just always protective of her and wanted to bring her everywhere, y/n on the other hand just adored her brother endlessly and wanted to go with him everywhere. It never really changed as they got older, even in her grumpy teen years she never hated spending time with Daniel.
Going to the Red Bull garage, neither Christian nor Max are there and since Daniel is now technically AlphaTauri she doesn't want to just walk into Red Bull's unit like she owns the place.
She ends up trying to find a place to hide that she won't be bothered. But instead as she pauses to look at her phone and find a song that she likes, she is suddenly grabbed and pulled forward making her jump and stumble from the sudden involuntary movement.
"Ow-oh fuck." Y/n gasps realising who it is a little too late as she's pulled into the McLaren unit. She definitely doesn't belong here anymore. "Lando."
"I suggest you be quiet." Lando instructs before managing to get her up to his driver's room where she finds herself in a closed space with nowhere to hide from his gaze. "Have you been avoiding me?"
Y/n's face is about ready to set on fire, but she can't tell if it's because she got caught or because seeing his smug expression makes her want to slap him.
"Don't flatter yourself, Lando. My brother broke his wrist. Why would I be here if he's not driving for me to support him?" Y/n questions in a scoff only to swallow thickly when his hand comes up, his thumb catching her bottom lip and dragging it downwards.
"Do you really want me to say why?" Lando hums then sighing as he moves around her, sitting down on a seat as her eyes follow him. "You owe me."
"I owe you?" She scoffs as if she doesn't know exactly what she owes him despite it all being his idea, his suggestion and his choice. He set the rules and she's just following because he's got that effect on her and he knows it. Whether he knew he'd have this effect before Silverstone she doesn't know, but it's fairly obvious what the outcome is going to be.
Lando's face is stern and she has to swallow before tossing her bag down then moving and dropping to her knees in front of him. She hates the smirk irks her but she undoes his jeans and pulls him out. Quickly wishing she'd never made the comment about his size being underwhelming because she's certain she can't fit him all in her mouth.
Nerves knot her stomach over whether she's really going to suck his dick.
"Y/n." Lando calls sternly snapping her back from her thoughts before she leans forward and takes the first third of his length in her mouth feeling him gather her hair in a fisted hand and begin to guide her.
She closes her eyes trying to pretend that this isn't enjoyable despite her knowing her thighs want to press together. A bad day to wear a skirt but COTA is quite a hot place.
"Fucking hell, finally found a good use for your mouth." Lando groans while she feels him hit the back of her throat, but he pushes further now completely controlling the depth into her throat and the pace. "Fuck, y/n."
Lando gets rougher and harder till he finally pulls her up and she coughs finally being able to catch her breath.
"You going to let me get in that pussy?" Lando questions making her look up at him for a moment, her blood racing through her veins before she takes his offered hand. "You look a bit messy there, y/n. Tap out if you can't handle it."
"I can handle you." Not that her voice seems to convince him in the slightest since there isn't a drop of confidence in her tone.
"I think you wore this skirt on purpose because you knew exactly how easy it'd be for me." Lando states as he turns her around and pulls her to his lap, the position of feeling his hard dick, still wet from her saliva, sitting pressed against her own wet panties. "How bad do you want it?"
Y/n's voice catches in her throat, the sheer level of neediness nearly overwhelming her.
"Beg for it."
There's no way in hell.
"Please."
Ok.
Well that wasn't what she was trying to say when she opened her mouth.
He lifts her enough to reach to pull her panties to the side and practically slams her down on him. The sting of the stretch making a moan pass even with her teeth clamped on her lip.
She can't handle this man. He's too big, she's not at all really ready but he's sitting in fully in her and the feeling is like nothing she's felt before during sex. To say he's the biggest she's had would be an understatement.
He does let her begin to move at her own pace but either he doesn't like the position, despite choosing it, or he just wants wants a change but he lifts her up pulling out and pushing her till she's lying back on the edge of the massage with him holding her legs up as he thrusts back into her.
"Fuck." Y/n whines, but it doesn't stop there since his hand flips her skirt up revealing her lower tummy allowing him to press where he can see the bulge of himself inside of her.
"You feel that? That's me too big inside you so I gotta make the space."
The new pressure combine with the sparks of pain turning to pleasure brings on an orgasm that she didn't think she had built up for. But it strikes through her like lightening, sending buzzes of energy through her body making even her fingers and toes tingle.
Being fucked ruthless through it, Lando hasn't even paused to give her a moment of reprise.
"Come back to me, we're not done." Lando breathes before he moving his hand from her tummy to her clit and y/n feels like a bomb threatening to go off again.
She's never had a man give her an orgasm, as shameful as that is to admit. But she's never even given herself more than one at a time and this man seems to be going for more after the first one.
"Christ, you're so tight." Lando groans as she clenches around him trying to fight off the oversensitivity that is building her to a second orgasm already.
Her body is shaking she feels his other hand move from holding her thigh to her throat, gentle pressure added as he uses his grip on her neck to almost stabilise her and when she feelings her clit just be completely abused. The fight slips from her and a second orgasm washes over her in a burning wave that almost feels like his touch is in her every nerve ending.
She's almost thankful when she feels him somehow get more aggressive before a few sloppy thrusts with him pulsing in her as she feels everything spill into her. Feeling the abused space with his cum like his intend was to get her pregnant.
Morning after pill will be needed on this occasion.
"You leave that in there." Lando instructs before pulling out and moving away to quickly clean his own dick and tuck it away. He moves to help her, looking almost concerned that she's not really moved and is just breathing heavily while staring at the ceiling. "Are you ok?"
She feels him push her panties back into place and flip her skirt down before going to help her sit up.
"No. I just need a second. I think I just...I don't really know what just happened." Y/n murmurs seeing him smirk out the corner of her eye.
"I'll get you some water."
After a good 15 minutes of sitting up just to drink water and feeling the remittance of Lando slowly start to leak out into her underwear.
"By the way, you owe me all this and more again." Lando smirks while she looks at the ground unsure if she can even stand up. She's not even sure she can feel her legs right now. "Y/n. Do you understand?"
"Yes."
Y/n has never been so obedient and responsive to a man in her life, but Lando seems to have some sort of power over her than he's all too happy to use to his advantage when it comes to speaking to her.
"Good." Lando smiles making her nod before he pats her thigh. "I'll walk you out."
"Wait, but...it's going to leak out." Y/n mumbles almost feeling like a completely inexperienced moron for saying it.
"I know. Don't you dare try to Stop it. I want to see all that evidence later when I see you." Lando demands making her swallow thickly. "Ok?"
"Ok." Y/n nods before she accepts his hands in standing up though she still feels a little unsteady and the change of position is making gravity work much more quickly with everything feeling like it's rushing out of her like a waterfall of bodily fluids.
"I'll see you after FP1."
"Do you want me to come to you?"
"I'll find you, don't worry."
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gojosprettyprincess · 1 month
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A/n wrote this at 5am so I apologize for any errors! <3 also it's poorly written but I hope you guys still like it.
Yk what fucking drives me crazy the most?
Sweet innocent looking men that treats you so well, I'm talking like he writes you cute poems, follows you around everywhere like a lost puppy and gets all flustered and shy when you want to go to Victoria secret to get new bras and panties but he still goes in with you anyways with his hand clinging onto your arm instead of just leaving because anything for you, the way his face melts into your hand whenever you'd cup his cheeks, looking at you with those innocent puppy dog eyes then he kisses your hand. Like he's just such a cutie you know? He'd let you do his makeup and let you baby him and feed him. Literally just anything you want he'd do it and lets you do. Whatever makes you happy.
And that same sweet innocent man would have you against the wall, his strong arms holding you up, fingers digging into the soft flesh of your thighs as he slams his hips against you, each thrust pushing you higher against the wall as he let you drop back down on his fat cock after, and he's even noisier than you are, loud whimpers and groans escaping his lips as he looks at your face, feeling satisfied and happy that his thick cock is the reason for your cute fucked out expression and sweet moans that are like music to his ears. Your nails leaving long red marks on his shoulders and back that he's sooo proud of having, he loves it when you do that, it's like a reward to him for making you feel good. His big strong arms pressing your legs back even further up as your knees raised up by your shoulders, giving him a deeper angle as his cock brushed against the right spots inside you that made you see stars to the point where you can't even think straight.
"O-oh fuck! baby, need you to cum ple-ase, fuck! please, wanna see you make a mess on my cock please I'm begging you princess", his voice cracks as he whimpers it out to you. The sweet and innocent needy tone in his voice compared to his rough pounding like he fucking hates you and had to prove it was all it took for you to cream around him, nails digging deeply into his back as he's practically making out with your neck, kissing and sucking on the tender flesh, leaving a bunch of purple and red marks that's definitely going to make him all fluttered and shy when he sees them in a few hours, remembering about what happened earlier. His eyes rolling back as he feels you coating his cock with your cum and dripping all over him.
"Ngh! Oh fuck, Tha-nk you! Thank you so much, gon-na cum!". He cries out. Your toes curling as he sped up his pace, hammering his cock in a reckless pace into your poor cunt, his thick cock head kissing your cervix with each one of his deep thrusts as he greedily chases his orgasm. He made sure to have his cock so deep inside of you to the hilt so he can fill you up full of his cum as he painted your tight walls white, thick ropes of cum spurting out of his cock, stuffing your hungry cunt full as he lets out a shaky groan while planting his face in your neck. He starts breathing heavily, panting against your neck as you felt his cock twitching inside of you. And you know what? He slowly pulls his cock out of you, being so careful that he doesn't spill any cum as he grips on your thighs even tighter before getting on his knees and eating all of his cunt out of your filthy stuffed cunt like the good boy he is, after all its his mess and well, yours also but he doesn't mind! he just wants to make it easier for you to clean you know? :(
Choso, Izuku, Armin, Toge, Zentisu, Kirishima, Yuuji, Kaneki.
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luveline · 8 months
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i NEED anything with glasses reid or munch reid i’m literally frothing at the mouth 🙏
ty for ur request :D fem!reader
"Emily," you say weakly. "What is that?" 
Emily looks up from her desk, clearly desperate for a distraction, the lip of her coffee mug against painted lips. "What's what?" 
"That." You point. You feel sick to your stomach. "That right there." 
"Oh," Emily says happily. "You finally noticed. Yeah, Spence forgot to renew his contact prescription. He has to wear glasses for two weeks." 
Spencer stands by the photocopier with a perturbed frown, clicking a button, then another. His brow is furrowed and his hair is falling into his eyes. He has the stupidest, dorkiest, prettiest face, and practically every expression he makes has you weak in the knees.
"That long?" you ask. 
Derek looks up in concern at your pained tone, following the line of your eyes. When he realises what it is that's hurt you so, he skirts around the desk to shake your shoulder. "You could always tell him how you feel. I'm sure he'd keep the lenses forever if he knew you liked them." 
"I don't like them," you say. You sound faraway to your own ears. You hate them. They're gonna be your demise. 
Spencer runs a fingertip across the photocopier's screen, in his own world as the machine finally begins to chug out whatever it is he'd been wanting a duplicate of. The frames of his glasses sit snug on his nose. You can tell from even this distance that the lenses make his eyes look a tiny bit smaller. You could probably point out a misplaced freckle if he asked you to.
"Don't be cruel, he looks cute," Emily teases. 
Spencer collects his papers, shuffling them into a straight line as he makes his way back to the bullpen. You pretend to take interest in Emily's things. She sips her coffee too nonchalantly. Derek doesn't even bother pretending. 
"What?" Spencer asks, swift to spot your suspicious behaviours. "Is it the glasses?" 
You wince. "Of course not. You look… you look really nice, Spence." 
"You know he used to wear 'em every day?" Derek asks.
You would've died. "Before I joined?" 
"For a few years," Spencer says, looking you over. "You're unhappy. Is something wrong?" 
He looks to Derek and Emily for confirmation. Emily stutters for an answer while Derek laughs in the background, "She– you know. She just– She missed breakfast!" 
Spencer pushes his glasses up his nose by the leg and drops his copies onto the desk. "I have dried apricot in my bag. Two seconds." 
He bends over his chair to retrieve his bag from under the desk. Your eyes blow wide at his position, the sudden demonstration of well-fitted pants. Derek's laugh echoes up to the eaves. 
"And he has that twenty four seven," Emily says against the rim of her coffee. 
You scrunch your eyes closed and tilt your head back. After a few seconds, a hand touches your elbow gently, a hesitance that comes with only one member of the BAU. "You okay?" Spencer asks. 
"I'm okay. Headache," you lie. 
Spencer presses the apricot into your hands. "Maybe you should see an optician. You know they can tell if you have a brain tumour from one photo of your sclera?" He smiles morbidly, his glasses slipping down his nose. "They measure the size of your optic disk. It takes less than a minute. I can give you the name of my doctor, if you want. She's nice. Not as nice as you." 
Your throat is so dry you can't form words to answer him. He doesn't judge your rigid nodding. 
"I'll write down the number for you. And, Y/N?" 
"Yeah?" you choke out. 
"You look really nice today, too." 
Emily has to kick you in the leg to bring you back to earth. Stupid Spencer. Stupid lovely glasses. 
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saturnsorbits · 2 months
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Lessons in Serving your King
Fandom: My Hero Academia, Warnings: Prince!Bakugo, Suggestive. Word Count: 1.6k.
Summary: Closing in on his 20th name day, tradition dictates that Prince Bakugo choose his first concubines.
A/N: This might become a series, but don't hold your breath.
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'I don't want a fucking -.'
Grabbing her son by the cheeks, Mitsuki Bakugo fixes the young prince still with a cold stare. 'You will do as you're told.'
'But -'
'It is tradition, Katsuki. Not even your ego is large enough to put an end to that.' She smirks before releasing her hold and wipes a hand on the left hip of her dress. 'Now, come on... You're late.'
Huffing, Bakugo tugs at his shirt to smooth the wrinkles left by his mother, but follows on her heels obediently. Usually, he'd put up more of a fight, throw a proper tantrum, but the pit of curiosity growing in his stomach stops him making too much fuss. He's fucking human, after all. Of course, he's going to be at least a little interested in the collection of concubines that had been assembled specifically for his perusal.
That didn't mean he had any intention of choosing any of them, though.
The doors of the main hall seem more daunting than usual, but Bakugo hides his trepidation well.
Or so he thinks.
Mitsuki's hand touches softly on his shoulder, guiding him, not through the main hall, but down the corridor. She offers out her elbow, letting him cling to her as they continue to drift closer to a small, more intimate, service room.
The marble clicks under their shoes, the sound amplified endlessly as it rings behind them announcing their arrival. Large windows scatter light, bringing out the red in both Bakugo and his mother's eyes as they pass the selection of special guards already stationed outside the room. All seven of them, five sworn to his mother and two to him, are dressed from head to toe in royal finery with the lightest of chain mail glittering over their chests. Swords hang from their hips, but Bakugo knows there are much more deadly weapons hidden under their clothes and tucked away from prying eyes.
Captain Aizawa, one of Mitsuki's most trusted knights bows low when they reach the door.
Reaching out, Mitsuki presses a hand to his shoulder and pushes him straight again. 'Enough of that, you'll put your back out.'
Aizawa's mouth moves to argue, but Mitsuki doesn't allow his voice to summon a sound.
'Shouta, you have more than earned the right not to bow.' She chides in a way that makes goose-flesh break out on the other guards, but the Captain simply laughs.
'Is the prince ready, My Lady?'
Mitsuki's hand wraps around her son's bicep giving him a firm squeeze. 'Oh, you know him. Dragged here kicking and screaming.'
Bakugo scowls.
'But, I'm sure he'll manage.'
Another guard, tall and broad in the shoulders with a close crop of dark hair and a booming voice clears his throat. 'If I may speak out of turn, Captain?'
'You will not Yoarashi.'
Mitsuki waves him off. 'Oh, let the boy speak Shouta.'
The guard, Yoarashi, smiles. His teeth are too big for his mouth, but somehow there's still something strikingly handsome about him. Bakugo hates it. 'The consorts have outdone themselves this time, I've never seen a more stunning array of -.'
Captain Aizawa silences his guard with a raised hand. 'That's quiet enough, I think the Queen understands your sentiment.'
'Quite.' Mitsuki smiles, locking a chuckle behind her teeth. 'Speaking of the wonderful job my husbands consort has done, I think it's time to see what Inko has found for us, don't you, Katsuki?'
Bakugo nods, it's all he ca manage with the nerves threatening to make his knees wobble like some common whore. His jaw is tight, teeth clenched in his mouth, but it soon looses as he the doors are thrown wide and he's allowed to step into the room.
Inside the room is dark, the thick red curtains covering the windows putting an end to any natural light that should attempt to slink inside. Instead, the room is illuminated by a series of high torches that cast a godly glow about and perfectly highlighting the row of people stood across the centre of the room.
At once, Inko is upon them. She wraps chubby arms around Bakugo without a second thought and greets his mother with a warm kiss to her hand when offered. Following at her heel is Izuku, her darling son. 'Brother.' Izuku smiles.
'Half Brother.' Bakugo spits the former piece of his sentence, enjoying the way it feels between his lips – the distance it offers him from the man before him. They're the same age. Both Mitsuki and Inko had been pregnant at the same time and the boys born mere months apart, although Inko had done the chief portion of the nursing; especially when Mitsuki's milk had dried up. Something that had lead both women to an unlikely friendship.
'I heard you've outdone yourself this time.' Mitsuki pulls at Bakugo, steering him around to the front of the room.
Bakugo's eyes wonder. There's a conversation flowing in the air around him, but he pays no heed. How can he, when the most beautiful man he has ever laid eyes on is looking directly at him.
The man lifts his head. He is bare to the waist with only the smallest piece of cloth to cover his dignity. If Bakugo where to walk around him, which he just might, he'd bet he'd be able to see his ass in all it's glory.
He has red eyes, violent carnelian, that pierce right to Bakugo's soul and red hair that is tied neatly in a bun atop his head. Licking his lips when he catches the princes' eye, the man smiles, flashing a row of blade-like teeth that threaten to bring Bakugo to his knees.
'Did you hear?' Mitsuki pats Bakugo's lapel.
He didn't, but he nods anyway.
His eyes slip further down the line, silently comparing each concubine to the next, but no-one compares to the red-eyed man until his eyes are blessed by you.
You're near the end, stood beside two others that don't even come close to your beauty with your chin tilted to the floor and your hands clasped neatly before you. Like the others, you're dressed in almost nothing, but it's the bright red 'V' painted onto your skin across the top of your breast bone that has him pausing.
He's seen the mark before and a cursory glance back down the line tells him exactly where. The red head, amongst two or three others, also bare the mark.
Bakugo swallows.
Already he can feel his breeches tightening uncomfortably.
'How many?' He snaps, forcing his eyes from the line and onto Inko.
She blinks. 'Pardon?'
'How many... For my... For my harem?'
'Oh. Most choose at least six to begin with, but after that is custom to add another concubine for each year until you reach 29. Sometimes other kingdoms will offer then as gifts, but you're more than welcome to dismiss -.'
Bakugo raises his hand. 'I don't want a history lesson.'
'Oh, I -.' Inko blushes.
'Brat, watch your tongue...' Mitsuki raises her hand to crack him across the back of the head, but the prince side steps her assault easily.
'I want that one...' He points at you, eyes narrowed and hungry before he turns, pointing at the red haired man at the other end of the room. 'And him. That's all.'
Mitsuki's brow furrows. 'Two? Inko here scourers the kingdom for the finest it had to offer and you choose only two?'
Bakugo folds his arms. He can feel your eyes, the red-heads too, burning through his skin. It makes him hot, makes him wonder what it'll be like when your eyes grow heavy, when they're spotted with ears and your mouths are full of his tongue, his fingers, his cock.
Clearing his throat, he tries to readjust his breeches.
He won't have to imagine soon. No, soon, you'll be his.
'Have them brought to my rooms tomorrow.' Turning on his heel he shouts over his shoulder before storming from the room before his cock begins to soak into his breeches.
Tomorrow, he thinks as soon as the doors slam shit behind him.
That should give him enough time to fist himself stupid to the thought of red eyes and glittering skin.
Hopefully, that would stop him making a fool of himself at the first meeting.
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Bakugo already looks bored when you're brought into his rooms at noon the following day. The door closes behind you, a guard having performed the customary introductions, and all too quickly you're swallowed by the nerves that climb up your body and twist around your lungs.
Adjusting his seat, Bakugo pulls a foot up onto his chair and spreads his knees. A bark leaves his chest that he hopes is harsher than it feels. 'I don't fuck virgins...'
You hear the wet click of Kirishima's throat from beside you in the silence of the room. Even though the red ink is gone, the fact of your both being intact remains the same. 'Uhm, my lord... I mean – Prince Bakugo, I'm... I think there's been some mistake, we're – we're both -.'
'I know.' He waves his hand. Anticipation creates pins and needles in his thighs. Even if he wanted to fuck right now, he's not sure his body would hold out long enough. Maybe, five orgasms in the space of a day was too much.
'Well, you can see how this might be a problem then...' Twisting his knuckles around each other, Kirishima chews at his lip and forces a weak smile. It's strange how he makes six-foot of man look almost as small as you are, but he does it easily and blushes pretty to boot.
'How -.' He clears his throat. 'How are we supposed to serve you if -.'
'You're going to fuck each other, first.' He arches an eyebrow, drawling as if the solution to his little problem has been more than obvious. A smirk curls his lip. 'I'll watch.'
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-> Masterlist
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frantic-fiction · 1 month
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Tension 18+
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Pic: littlelovelore
Astarion x f!reader
Summary: During a solo mission, Astarion takes the opportunity to indulge in some "depraved carnal lust".
Warnings: 18+ MDNI Slight enemies to lovers, sex bent over a desk, sex with clothes on, mild choking, rough sex, reader handles her crush like a fifth grader (by being mean) Astarion is his smug self
Word Count: 3.2k
Masterlist
Back-to-back posts brought to you by Bree's insomnia...Enjoy!
"Do you want me to do it?" Astarion smugly asks, flicking his wrist sharply, sending a dagger into the wood beam before him. He's leaning against the cracked wall of the tunnel. A condescending smile stretches across his pale lips.
"Shut the fuck up!" You snap, twisting the lockpick violently, it's stuck on something, and it is pissing you off. 
"My my, someone's testy today." The Vampire pushes off the wall to retrieve his dagger, only for you to hear the same thud of the knife hitting the abused beam once again.
You clench your jaw, wanting nothing more than to drown the bastard in the small stream of gray water. See him try to be a smartass when he's choking on sewage. 
No! Just breathe.
As soon as you get this damn door open, all you need is to grab the stolen lease for the damn butcher, and the party will have a nice payout. Then Astarion's snarky comments and teasing jabs can be ignored behind a glass of ale and a nice meal. 
Well, if you don't kill him first.
The relationship between you and the Vampire is a complex one, to say the least. Astarion is an arrogant, pompous dick. You're a temperamental stubborn asshole. It made for a messy mix of harsh insults and constant attempts to belittle the other.
It would have been so easy to hate him completely, but Astarion can be sweet under the cloak of night, and you could almost pretend he's a tolerable person when he speaks those honey-coated words. And when you let him feed from you, everything became so much more complicated.
The pick snaps, and you drop your head, groaning in frustration. You stand up and kick hard against a crate; the decayed wood breaks against your boot. Sighing in defeat, you motion to the rogue. 
Astarion laughs smoothly, tucking the knife away, and exchanges it for his thieves' tools. Giving you a wink, he bends down to examine the lock. You pretend not to admire the swell of his ass, but who are you kidding Astarion is extremely attractive.
With little to no fanfare, the lock turns over, and Astarion opens the door. "After you."
"I fucking hate you." You grumble, pushing past, making a point to shove your shoulder hard into the rouge.
"Keep telling yourself that Darling," 
You flip him off.
The sewer system is a winding path of tunnels leading to various places. The two of you walk in silence for a few minutes. 
"Are you sure we are going the right way?" Astarion asks, breaking the peace.
"Of course, this is the right way." You hiss, glaring over your shoulder. "I can read a map."
"Just like you could pick a lock, yes?"
You don't think you've ever seen a more punchable face. You're almost tempted to smack him just to see his reaction. Instead, you practice a semblance of self-control and ignore him.
After a few more turns, you hit a dead end. It's nothing but a damp brick wall. Scanning the map, you're sure you followed all the proper steps; there should be an entrance. Stowing the stupid paper away, you begin feeling the brick for any invisible button, unwilling to admit defeat in front of Astarion. All hideouts have secret levers. Right?
"Well, sweetheart, I think you've gotten us lost."
"No, I didn't, jackass, now be useful for once and help me." You bend down and begin trailing your fingertips against the rough bricks near the floor.
"I don't think I will. I'm quite enjoying the view from here."
You look back towards the rogue, "What are you talking about–" you choke on your words.
 Astarion is shamelessly eyeing your form. A fang tugs at his bottom lip, hunger darkening his eyes. You swallow hard, and a flame ignites low in your stomach. You have a sudden urge to press him against the wall. That thought startles you. This is Astarion. The obnoxious, arrogant, attractive–no, stop that. You stand up and shake your head, willing your thoughts to clear. 
"You're ridiculous," you sigh and dig through your bag. 
Retrieving the knock scroll, Gale scribed for you. Repeating the steps he told you to do, you mumbled the incantation, and soon enough, what was once a solid brick wall cracked open to reveal a hidden path.
"Told you I knew where I was going," you boast, sticking your tongue out childishly.
Astarion smirks, "Yes, a broken clock is right twice a day."
Scoffing, you shove him hard, causing him to take a few steps to correct his footing. The entrance leads to a broken-down ladder and a worn wooden hatch. Astarion steps up to pick the lock and lifts the hatch barely to survey the room. He pushes the trapdoor open and enters.
Following suit, you find yourself in a dusty broom closet. Astarion is already at the door to the hallway, a sliver of light pouring through the crack. Closing the trapdoor, you cross your arms and wait for Astarion to turn back to you. 
"It's abandoned."
"Are you sure?"
Scoffing, Astarion doesn't answer. He pushes the door open and begins down the hall. You follow after him.
The small hideout is plainly decorated, the common room has a dingy sofa and a coffee table. The fireplace is dead; not even embers remain. Good. In the corner, there looks to be an unfinished game of cards. The faded carpet runner leads down the hall to a large ornate door. 
Astarion is already opening the door by the time you reach him. By the looks of it, this is the boss's office. A large oak desk sat in the middle room. A plush chair pulled slightly away as if someone hadn't bothered to move it back. Bookshelves line the back wall. 
"Secure the door," you say as you move to the window to the left of the door. You hear Astarion mumble something but don't quite catch his words. 
The window is a short drop good for a quick escape if needed. 
You move to the desk and begin rifling through the papers on the desk. Tax documents, random notes, crappy doodles, and a cringey love letter, but not what you're looking for. You rip open the first drawer. Nothing. Second drawer. Nothing. Third, nothing. 
"Astarion, did you find anything?"
"Nothing important." His sultry voice is deep and so very close to your ear.  
Your heart drops, but you suppress any other signs of distress, knowing that is exactly what he's looking for. Sighing In annoyance, you turn around to face Astarion and cross your arms over your chest.
"Are you even trying to look for the damn paper? We need to get what we're here for and get the fuck out!"
Astarion's mouth cracks into a cheeky grin, and he closes in on you. You back against the desk instinctually, reaching a hand up that lands on his firm chest. Astarion has you caged against the desk, each hand on either side of your hips. You know Astarion can hear the thrumming of your heart and the shaky inhalation of your breath, and you curse your body for betraying you.
He bends his head down to press his mouth against your ear. "What if I'm looking for something else?"
You freeze. What did he mea–
The thought is forgotten because he's slamming his lips onto yours. You gasp in surprise, and Astarion wastes no time, delving his tongue into your mouth and claiming it as his. 
The slight metallic taste of blood that lingers on his tongue should repulse you but has you moaning desperately for more. You grip your fist tightly into the fabric of Astarion's armor. His body is flush against yours, but you need more. You scratch your nails up his neck and tangle your fingers into his hair. Astarion groans into your mouth, biting at your bottom lip.
Everything is hazy, and you're lost in the kiss. Your thoughts are slow to catch up with the situation, too consumed by the taste of his lips. Astarion's lips. Astarion.
You push him away, chest heaving in rapid breaths. "What are you doing?" 
"I'd hope my intentions would be obvious by now." He grins and dives back to kiss down your neck, dragging his teeth against your skin. "I could be more obvious if that would clear things up." 
A sharp bite of his mouth at your throat drags a choked gargle from your swollen lips. You feel dizzy from the scent of rosemary and bergamot invading your nose. Lightheaded from the sudden turn of events. Astarion presses a knee between your legs, applying firm pressure against your burning arousal. 
Gods, what was he doing to you?
Needing to gain any form of control, you tug sharply at the roots of his silver curls, drawing a hiss from the man. 
You finally manage to gasp out, "We hate each other." As if that would somehow clear up your raging thoughts.
Except, could you hate someone who is making you feel so good? 
Cold fingers trail against the skin between your leather armor and trousers. Astarion's deft hands start pulling at the lace of your pants. Another wave of arousal warms your body, and you feel drunk on the pale elf.
"You say that, yet I don't think you want me to stop." He purrs, halting his movements, and meets your eyes. "Do you want me to stop?"
You shake your head, desperate for more. Your dignity couldn't live with letting Astarion reduce you to a begging mess. However, if you were honest with yourself, you're already halfway there. Reaching out, you grab for his belt.
Astarion was having none of that. He's quick to twirl you around and press your torso flush against the top of the desk. A stack of paper flies off and scatters to the ground, but neither of you put much care into it. Astarion grinds his front roughly against your ass, and you moan at the feeling of his hardening cock against you.
"No, no, no, my dear, use your words."
"Gods, are you always so fucking annoying?" You whine pressing back and rolling your ass against him. Astarion grunts, gripping your hips tightly. "Are you going to fuck me, or should I just take care of myself?"
Astarion groans, rocking against each roll of your hips. "There's my spitfire." 
"I'm not yours."
Astarion tugs at your pants and underwear, pulling them over your rear and letting them pool around your ankles. You kick off your boots and free yourself, leaving your lower half bare to the open air. A shiver rushes up your spine as the cold air hits your dripping heat. 
Astarion's slim fingers trail down your folds, and you bite your lips to stifle a cry. Tilting your head back, you see the rogue admiring the slick coating his fingers. 
"You might not be mine, darling." Astarion slips his drenched fingers into his mouth, and you watch, mouth agape, as he swirls his tongue to clean each digit. "But who else has seen you bent over a desk looking as desperate and delicious as you do now?"
"I could name a few," you say cheekily, earning you a smack on the flesh of your backside. 
Astarion gropes the reddened skin and bends down, blanketing you with his body. You feel the soft pants of his breath cascade over your neck as Astarion brings his lips to your ear.
"Then it seems I'm just going to have to ruin you for anyone else." Astarion practically growls and licks along the shell of your ear before taking the lobe in between his mouth and teasing it with his teeth. You don't recall hearing Astarion unclasp his belt, but when you feel his bare cock rub against your back, all you can do is arch your back and moan.
"Astarion," you part your legs more in silent invitation.
"Yes, my dear," His voice is smug as he rocks against you. He knows what you want but wants to hear you say it. 
The head of his cock parts your folds and moves to tease your desperate clit; a collective moan fills the room, but it is not enough for either of you. And knowing that the two of you are currently in the middle of dangerous territory means there is no time to play. 
"Stop being a prick and fuck me."
"Have I ever told you, you always have such a way with words." Astarion chuckles before plunging deep into your cunt.
A shaky cry leaves your lips, all air seemingly ripped from your lungs. Astarion is bigger than most men you've slept with prior - though you wouldn't dare voice that out loud in case it inflates his already-inflated ego. The stretch holds a delicious sting, and you feel the beginning of the burn of tears at the corner of your eyes. 
Astarion's still his hips for a moment, letting you collect yourself. His thumbs are rubbing soothing circles into the small of your back and peppering kisses across your neck. Once the sting of his initial entrance simmers to a stirring heat, you tell him to move.
"Hells you're so tight." Astarion groans as he sets a teasing pace, dragging the rugged ridges of his cock out before plunging back in at the same agonizing pace. 
A pace you could imagine sharing intimately with Astarion all night somewhere secluded. Perhaps your tent or an isolated clearing, not a random gang's currently empty hideout. And since you're not one to play nice, you decide to play with fire instead.
Pushing up on your elbows, you move your head to look back at Astarion, a playful smirk on your lips. "You say you're going to ruin me, but I think Gale could be doing a better job of it right now."
Astarion's body freezes just as you hoped he would react. He shoots you a look full of daggers and bares his teeth in annoyance. Without comprehending entirely what's happening, Astarion pulls out of you and, with a strength you have not seen from the Vampire (the same Vampire who asks others on multiple occasions to carry his pack because it's too heavy), flips you over and has you seated firmly back on the desk leaving you dizzy but feeling giddy as a schoolgirl. 
"Oh darling, you're going to regret that."
Astarion rams back into your pussy and begins to thrust quick and brutally deep into your body. His cold hand is wrapped around your throat, holding it firmly enough to keep your eyes locked onto him. 
Your legs link around his lean hips, pulling him deeper into you. Moaning desperately, you run one of your hands up under his leather armor, splaying it across his stomach. You grab his face and pull him into a kiss, all tongue and teeth and perfection.
 The desk is groaning under the movement of your bodies. Random knick-knacks are clanging to the floor. A bottle of whiskey shatters, and the pungent aroma wafts into the air, mingling with the scent of sweat and slick. 
"You and that mouth of yours." He breathes deep into your ear. "Always so confident, so snarky, so bratty." 
"M-more…" you choke, clenching around his length, desperate for anything and everything he will give you.
"Do you think the wizard could handle you?" The hand not firmly holding your neck snakes between your legs and begins to play with your clit.
"Gods A-star.." You gasp, eyes rolling back.
"Could he or anyone else make you feel this good?" Astarion's hand tightens slightly against your neck, and the lack of oxygen leaves you feeling dizzy and euphoric. 
"N-no…please." 
"After me, no one will ever be able to satisfy you." His thumb is now rubbing fast, tight circles against your clit. "Fuck, that's it, squeeze me just like that."
Gripping onto the desk, you shift your hips, and Astarion is now hitting deeper into your abused cunt. You tighten your legs around his waist, urging him to go faster. That delicious coil is beginning to burn deep in your stomach, and you know you won't last much longer. 
"Tell me, who's making you feel this good," Astarion demands, voice husky. 
"Y-you," 
"And when you come on my cock, I want you to scream my name." He grunts, and the thrust of his hips is beginning to become sloppier. "I want to hear just how good I make you feel."
Everything is too much. Astarion's sinful words, the harsh thrust of his hips combined with the tight circles of his thumb on your clit, the musky smell of Astarion's sweat mingling with yours, and the intense fragrance of the spilled whiskey. 
You don't remember the details, just the wave of euphoria as the coil snaps and your orgasm washes over you. The words that spill from your lips hold no meaning in your clouded mind. The only thing that holds context is the feeling of Astarion stuttering thrusts of his hips as he chases his release from your spent body. 
And when he stills, and the world falls silent apart for your combined pants of breath, all you do is brush the curls off his forehead and kiss his cheek. Why? You're not sure, but that's something you'll ask yourself later. 
Once you return to relatively normal breathing, Astarion moves from his slumped position against your body. He stares at you in astonishment.
"Well, that happened." You offer because what else were you supposed to say?
Astarion breaks out into a genuine laugh, full belly and joyful as he tucks himself away. You couldn't help but join in as you move to put your clothes on.
"Yes, my sweet, I suppose that did happen."
"So where-"
The two of you jump at a commotion coming from the hall. Someone is jingling the doorknob, trying to open it; when it doesn't budge, there is a loud bang followed by an even louder shout of anger.
"Fuck!" You quickly finish tying your boots and collect your gear.
"Seems like our friends are back from their trip. I believe it's time to go." Astarion says as he moves to the window and opens it. Without waiting for you to respond, he gives you a devilish smirk and jumps out.
"Shit, the paper." You sigh, knowing you'll never hear the end of it. 
By the time you make it to the window, the door is being busted in, and a very angry-looking dwarf is storming into the room. You smile at him and give him a salute before diving out the window, knowing Astarion will be there to catch you.
***Later at camp***
"What do you mean you didn't get the document?" Gale yells, the others equally baffled by you and Astarion's failure. "That was the only thing you needed to get!"
You shrink in on yourself looking to Astarion for help. "I...I don"
Astarion rolls his eyes. "Stealing objects from heavily populated hideouts is harder than you might think, wizard." 
"That's why we sent you two!"
"Then perhaps next time-"
"HOLY SHIT!" Karlach interrupts, drawing everyone's attention. She's pointing straight at you with a look of bafflement. "Soldier's got a fucking hickey."
You clamp a hand over the spot Astarion was biting at earlier, wishing for the ground to swallow you whole.
Shadowheart's face scrunches up in disgust. "Please don't tell me, we're not getting paid because you two idiots decided to fuck?"
"Darling, it would seem the cat's out of the bag." The bastard has the audacity to look proud.
"I hate you all." You groan and storm off to your tent, contemplating just how bad it would be to join the Absolute.
Feedback always makes my day so let me know what you guys thought. And if you're looking for something sweet to balance out the spice check out my last post right here.
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1K notes · View notes
gureumz · 7 months
Text
wide open
rating: explicit
member: heeseung
premise: forced to marry a dictator king of a nearby kingdom, you're advised to shut up and take whatever king heeseung gives you and give him everything you have in return. in truth, you'd rather kill yourself than be married to this monster, but he has a way of changing people's minds
notes: fem!reader, dom!heeseung, royalty au, very slight angst, marriage of convenience/forced marriage, hate-ish sex, breeding, mentions of impregnation, use of pet names, unprotected sex, strangers to sort-of-lovers, mentions and descriptions of death and injury, lmk if i missed anything!
a/n: sixth and final entry for my 1k follower special! this is the end for my two-month 1k event! i'm so thankful for the love this received and i'm excited to start my new series/anthology! i can't wait to write your other requests as well and bring you more stories you can enjoy!
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it's making your stomach churn.
the way your father looks at you right now, as if he's sorry but not really. apologetic only because shouting in delight would hardly seem appropriate at a time like this.
you can practically see the sparkle in the East king's eyes.
"the decree says so," your father says with a sigh like he regrets to inform you of such news. you bite down on your tongue to keep yourself from flinging the pewter cup filled with wine in front of you at him.
"the decree can say one thing but we can do exactly the opposite of it," you challenge, balling your fists in your lap. your father turns to you sharply.
"and then what, my love?" your father coos condescendingly. "race to see which one of our heads rolls off the gallows first when the new king of the West chops them off?"
you stare at your father, clad in his deep velvet garb, the lines on his forehead pronounced in the flickering firelight in his solar. you feel your whole face stiffen as you stare back at the spitting image of yourself, the exact source of the flame raging within you. you love your father and you know him. know him enough that it's no use arguing with him now. he would fling whatever words you had right back at you with double the force.
"you're lucky he didn't snatch you in the dead of night once he proclaimed victory," your father presses on. "you're lucky he's being diplomatic about it, issuing decrees so that all the four kingdoms are bonded legally to his whims."
"it hardly feels lucky being the sole maiden of royal blood fit enough to wed him," you spit back, turning away.
you hear your father lets out a breath and you can feel him walk away towards the large window that adorns the north side of his solar. you watch as he gazes out the glass panes, his back to you.
"he's a strapping young man, a talented general as he's proven, and truly the royal seed of his father before him," your father says, something unfamiliar in his voice. he turns back to you and you see, for the first time, the fear in his eyes.
"he turned on his own father, just as his father did with his father, took over that poor dead man's kingdom, and waged a war against his neighbors."
your father's voice trembles now.
"refusal would not only mean death, my rose," your father points out quietly, slipping in the endearment he so often used with you since you were a child.
"he would make sure you wished you were dead," he warns.
you swallow, letting his words sink in.
you think back on the past year, the months of hiding, the weeks spent banged up in the highest tower of your castle, the days of weeping as you waited for your father to come back, the minutes of terror as you were told the West king had emerged triumphant.
the second you saw your father, the Almighty Blessed King of the East, staggering through the palace gates, bloodied and broken.
that wretched tyrant from the West almost took your father away from you. giving yourself to him willingly hardly seems like the right move. but not doing so would mean a fate worse than death.
"is he really that terrible?" you ask, almost in a whisper.
your father walks up to where you're seated at his dining table. he reaches down and takes your hands in his calloused, war-scarred ones.
"i couldn't give you an answer to that if i tried," he explains. "i surrendered before i could get the chance to meet him."
"then how are you so ready to give away your only daughter, your only reminder of the woman you loved?" you implore, looking desperately into your father's eyes.
he shakes his head.
"this is how i want to remember you before you're whisked away into that cruel man's arms," your father says tenderly, tucking your hair behind your ear.
"feisty, with the zeal only your mother could pass on to you."
your eyes sting with tears at hearing your father mention his late queen.
your own mother feels like someone from a dream to you. she was there one moment and gone the next. much like yourself.
you let yourself cry silently, rising to let your father hold you in his arms.
---
the trip from the East to the West typically took a little over two weeks if no hiccups are encountered along the way. but you realized, merely two days in, that this whole marriage was cursed from the beginning.
it's as if the whole world conspired against this union, and you would have been grateful for it, but after days of running into problems (thieves and hunters and sudden thunderstorms and a pack of wild boars), the only thing you wanted was to be sheltered inside a warm castle room with a cup of spiced wine on your bedside.
so unbridled was your happiness when you heard a sudden shout from outside your carriage announcing your arrival at the gates of the West Kingdom castle. your two ladies-in-waiting riding with you had equally relieved faces, your hands immediately reaching out to grasp theirs.
"we're here, your grace," the younger of the two, yuna, whispers excitedly.
olivia, the older and more cynical one, swats at yuna's arm.
"don't sound so happy," olivia berates. "this is a dictator's castle we're entering."
yuna shrinks back in her seat and you reach over to clasp her hand reassuringly.
"i'm the only one fit enough to marry him," you remind. "he should know better than to lay a single finger on me."
olivia eyes you worriedly while yuna nods in agreement.
"i'll be alright," you say. whether it's to them or to yourself, you're not entirely sure.
the entirety of your royal party comes to a halt after what you felt was an hour's worth of treading on a steep incline and only then do you allow yourself to peek through the curtains of your carriage.
you gasp as you see the fog all around. you're aware that the West was the mountainous region of the four kingdoms but seeing the clouds form beneath the castle grounds made your stomach twist uncomfortably.
"let's hope he doesn't throw me down the ravine," you mutter quietly. olivia and yuna exchange looks before giggling quietly.
you alight from your carriage a few more minutes later, the sudden light nearly blinding you. the sun is covered in dark clouds but the lack of any greenery to shield your field of view has you squinting to see in front of you.
"good morrow, your grace," a voice greets. you turn and see a smartly-dressed man approach, bowing deeply. he's adorned in the West king's court colors and it's then you notice the pin affixed on his chest.
"i'm lord jake, the royal chamberlain," he adds, taking your hand and pressing his lips to your skin. he straightens up and gestures behind him.
your eyes follow where he's pointing and you see a grand staircase leading up to the heavy wooden doors at the entrance to the castle.
"let me assist you to the throne room," jake offers, holding out his arm to you. you take it, fixing a firm grip on his bicep.
"the king is waiting," he adds.
---
you let yourself be pulled through the towering hallways, resisting the urge to gape at the lavishly adorned walls. portraits of Western monarchs, legendary shields and swords owned by said monarchs, heavy purple drapery. jake seems to understand, walking at a pace that hardly indicates that you're in any rush.
you turn behind you to see olivia and yuna following dutifully, your other ladies and servants following close behind, flanked by guards both from your party and from the West King's.
you turn back ahead of you, catching sight of the heavy doors to what you can only guess is the throne room.
"if i may speak freely, your grace." jake turns to you slightly. you return his gaze and nod.
"of course," you say.
"you need not be nervous," jake reassures. "i know of the tales you might have heard about our king. but i've been a companion of his since we were boys. he does not hurt those who are not deserving to be hurt."
you remain silent for a few seconds as you continue to approach the throne room. after a while, you respond to jake.
"i appreciate the words of comfort, my lord," you begin. "but what indication do you have that i'm nervous?"
jake smiles warmly at you just as you reach the doors.
"you've been squeezing my arm since you've arrived, your grace," jake points out.
a pause. your face breaks out into a smile and jake mirrors your expression, both of you allowing yourselves a moment to laugh.
the guards by the throne room doors heave them open and you stand, stiff but adorning your face with a look of resolve. jake pulls his arm away and steps in front of you. just as the doors fully open, jake bows to the throne and then to you.
"my most revered King of the West, this is Princess _________ of the East and her royal household," jake announces in a booming voice that startles you slightly.
"princess," jake continues, turning to you once more.
"i present to you, the Most Royal King of the West, King Heeseung,."
---
everything was a blur after that.
you do, however, remember the silver shock of hair atop the king's head. the deep purple of his doublet. the tight black breeches and black boots laced up around his ankles.
you could see King Heeseung's lips remain unmoving as you curtsied deeply in front of him. you remember the feeling of fear, humiliation, and embarrassment at having to bow in front of a cruel tyrant.
you remember the hint of a smile grace his mouth as you straighten up. you remember the sweat gathering on your palms.
you remember muffled words being exchanged between the king and jake. you couldn't make out what they were saying with the blood rushing in your ears. you remember curtsying one more time before jake takes your hand and leads you and your people out of the throne room.
now, hours later, seated in front of a mirror in an airy room somewhere on the north wing of the castle, you remember to breathe, letting out a breath you didn't know you were holding.
"your grace, are you alright?" olivia asks from behind you, her hand pausing mid-brush as she gathers your hair in her other hand.
you meet her eyes through the mirror and nod.
"yes," you answer. "just a little...tired."
"i would assume so," yuna speaks up from the other side of the room, her slender figure bent over the numerous chests containing your belongings.
"i asked and it turns out we traveled close to a month," yuna rambles. "a month! who takes a month to get from the East to the West?"
you smile at yuna's shrill voice, a comfort from the eerie silence that seems to surround the castle.
"how are you two liking it here so far?" you ask, addressing your two ladies. a palpable pause comes over the room as you wait for their response.
"it's...alright," olivia begins. "better than i expected. i pictured brutes and barbarians to litter the halls but that's a misjudgment on my part, your grace."
"everyone seems kind enough," yuna chimes in. "the king barely said a word so i'm not sure how to feel about him yet."
"better to hold your tongue when speaking of the King of the West, child," you lightly berate. "we don't know who's listening."
olivia and yuna both nod in understanding.
a knock from the door to your room interrupts your discussion.
"come in," you call out. you turn to see another one of your ladies poke their head in before straightening up and bowing.
"your grace," jen, a sprightly lady-in-waiting of yours addresses you.
"i've been informed that the king asks for your presence in his study," jen relays, hands folded in front of her.
time seems to stop as you hear these words. you feel olivia grip your shoulder and you hear a clatter of something as yuna drops it. jen avoids your eyes as the four of you soak in her words.
"well," you say after a moment. "i better make haste, then.
you meet olivia's eyes through the mirror once more and she smiles encouragingly.
---
you ask jen to accompany you this time to give olivia and yuna time for their own personal needs. jen readily agreed, not more than five paces behind you as you make your way to where you were told the king's study is.
the castle is bathed in late afternoon light, a gentle breeze fluttering through the hallways. hardly any noise can be heard save for the occasional footsteps of servants and soft chatter from some of the rooms. your heart hammering against your chest is the only thing that fills your ears constantly.
"this is it, right?" you turn to ask jen. she nods as you two stop in front of an intricately carved door with a heavy golden stag knocker.
"you may take your leave," you tell jen.
"your grace?" jen asks, voice meek. "should i not wait for you out here?"
you shake your head. "i have a feeling neither of us knows how long the king will keep me in there."
jen opens her mouth as if to say something more but she stops, sighing. she nods and bows to you before starting down the hallway.
you turn away from jen's disappearing form, hand grasping at the stag knocker. you pound the heavy metal against the door three times before stepping back, waiting to be let in.
"enter," comes a voice from inside.
you swallow, reaching for the door handle. you give it a turn, the door easily swinging inward. you step through the gap, pressing your lips in a thin line as you anticipate what you might see.
the study is a respectable size, with bookcases adorning nearly every wall. a fireplace crackles with flames at the far left end of the room and a large desk rests in the middle of it all.
hunched over a stack of parchment is King Heeseung himself, a quill twirling lazily between his fingers.
your eyes meet and the king straightens in his seat.
"your grace—"
you pause, having both said the same thing at the same time. to your surprise, King Heeseung offers a smile. not knowing what else to do, you force an uneasy smile back.
"sit with me, my lady," he says, motioning to the chair in front of his desk. you gather your skirts and perch yourself at the very edge of the seat.
no one speaks for what feels like an eternity. the king has paused in his perusing of the parchment in front of him and you've busied yourself with staring at your hands resting on your lap.
"there will be a welcome banquet tonight," King Heeseung's voice cuts through the silence.
"to celebrate your arrival," he continues.
you dip your head low.
"you have my gratitude, your grace," you say mechanically.
King Heeseung clears his throat. "i also arranged for the wedding feast to take place a week from now."
you allow yourself to gaze upon the King of the West, your eyebrows pinching together.
the king sees your expression and pauses.
"but if you wish to either hasten or push back the ceremony, then i'll take it into consideration," King Heeseung hurriedly adds, his sharp eyes rounding into a softer form.
you realize that sitting here, eye level with the king, that he's merely a man like any other. a man who smiles and startles and laughs.
your mind flashes back to your father's beaten and bruised face. your expression falls.
"no, your grace. a week from now is fine," you concede.
a long stretch of silence follows. you avert your eyes to the window to your right, gazing at the vibrant sky painted in the colors of the sunset.
"heeseung," comes the king's voice. you turn to him, a questioning look on your face.
"you can call me heeseung," he clarifies.
your face must have been of utter confusion because the king smiles again.
"we are to be wed, are we not? i would assume that you'd prefer a much more relaxed method of addressing each other." heeseung leans back in his plush seat, awaiting a response.
"of course," you agree. "and you may address me however you wish."
"my betrothed."
the two words roll smoothly off heeseung's tongue and a strange tug pulls at your chest. you nod silently as if to grant permission.
heeseung clears his throat again, pushing himself off his chair. you rise as well but you make no move to look at his face.
you see from the corner of your eye his hand reaching out to you.
"come. the banquet should be starting soon."
you shakily place your hand in his and he gently wraps his fingers around yours.
"after you, my dear betrothed," he says, motioning towards the door.
---
it turns out, a week flies by extremely fast.
you've managed to meet all of the people of importance in heeseung's court in that time, memorizing names and faces and feasting with a number of them.
heeseung hovers around, greeting you as you go about your day but ultimately keeping his distance. you wonder if you should be doing more to prepare for your wedding but you don't dare question any of heeseung's or his council's plans.
in a blink of an eye, the week is over and you're standing in the throne room, draped in your finest garments, practically glittering from head to toe with the jewelry you've brought from home.
heeseung stands tall and regal beside you, his hair perfectly done and his royal regalia adorning his broad frame. strangely enough, his face is what you anchor on for most of the ceremony—a blur of vows and prayers and oaths and finally, a restrained brush of lips to make things official.
the feast may as well have not happened with how blurry your memory of it is. you sat at the high table, watching the festivities but not really seeing anything.
that is, until a particular loud courtier knocks over a chair, bringing down plates and utensils as collateral damage in his drunken state. the noise jars you for a moment but heeseung lays a warm hand on yours to steady you.
and now, sitting on the edge of your bed, stripped down to your undergarments by your reluctant ladies, you shiver at the thought of what your wedding night may bring.
you've heard stories from your ladies and you've been taught enough by the tutors you've had over the years. but to lay with a man such as heeseung, it chills you down to the bone. would he hurt you? would he demand things from you? perhaps kill you?
you shake your head. it would do no good for him to kill you now. you're both in dire need of heirs for your respective domains, him especially now that he's deposited himself as the supreme ruler of all the kingdoms in your land. and even without taking children into consideration, would he really drive in his image as a tyrant? slaying his wife on their wedding night?
your thoughts are dissolved when you hear a knock come from the door. a second later, heeseung walks in, his cape and gloves amiss, and so are the tightly-laced hunting boots, leaving him in his doublet and breeches, wool boots covering his feet.
he almost looks...nervous.
"my b—"
heeseung pauses, taking in a sharp breath.
"my wife."
your head spins as heeseung says these words. you can physically feel the color draining from your face. when heeseung says it like that, it makes it more real, your fate looming over you like an impregnable fortress caging you in.
"yes, your grace?" you respond, trying to sound composed amidst your anxiety.
heeseung studies you for a second before sighing. he tugs his boots off, undoing his doublet right after. he shrugs the garment off, leaving him bare from the waist up. you gasp softly, abruptly turning away.
"you need not address me like that, remember?" heeseung reminds, trudging carefully before coming to a stop in front of you.
he reaches a hand out, attempting to hold a side of your face but you flinch, your whole body lurching at the feeling of his skin against yours.
your heart pounds as you quickly realize the fault in what you just did. you peer up at heeseung, eyes shaking with fear.
you expected anger, annoyance, or even confusion.
but all you see is a pair of despondent eyes looking down at you.
"why are you afraid? why do you fear me?" heeseung asks, voice quiet, defeated.
your insides churn as you try to find the right words. in a moment, the whole ordeal comes crashing down on you, the day's events flashing in your mind, a reminder that this is your life now. you're married to a dictator for the rest of your days.
"shouldn't i be?" you reply, voice stony. "i'd be a fool to not be scared of someone who murdered their own father and waged a war against the entire world."
heeseung remains silent. he heaves a sigh, turning away from you.
"it seems as if it was a mistake to ask for your hand in marriage," heeseung says.
a flicker sparks inside you.
"you didn't ask!" you cry out, voice accusatory. you stand, pulling yourself to your full height. this outrage has sprung from nowhere, seized you fully, summoning all the anger within you.
"you commanded me here, you took me away from my family, my home! i came all the way here to marry an evil man and he suddenly decides that marrying me was a mistake?"
"i gave up everything i had to fulfill a duty i was called to, that you called me to," you continue, placing yourself right in front of heeseung.
"i need you to prove to me that all this is worth it. that i did not come here to be some poor slave to a tyrant! show me and prove me wrong that you're not just some monster that nearly killed my father!"
you feel the air knocked out of you as a pair of lips press against your own. you cry out in surprise but something snaps within you, the final branch needed to let the fire catch and spread.
heeseung is kissing you and you're kissing him, your hands clawing at any part of him you could reach. his own fingers tug at your chemise, pulling it down your shoulders until it slips off your body completely.
"you're sick, forcing yourself on your wife like this," you pant against heeseung's mouth. he undoes his breeches, letting them fall.
"my wife is free to leave if she pleases," heeseung retaliates, kicking off the last of his clothes.
both of you are stark naked now.
you stand there, breathing heavily as you look into each other's eyes.
"your wife will not leave until you've bedded her and put an heir in her womb," you seethe. "that's all she came here for, after all."
heeseung grunts lowly, attacking your lips once more. he shoves you down on the bed, caging you in easily with his firm body. he runs his hands up and down your sides, squeezing and fondling at every piece of flesh he can dig his fingers into. you moan and squirm under his touch, an ache growing between your legs.
"you'll give me as many heirs as i wish," heeseung says as he kisses his way down to your neck. he suckles on a spot just beneath your jaw and the sound of defiance that you originally wanted to let out is caught in your throat.
"of course, so they can usurp you when it's your time," you say through your teeth.
heeseung says nothing, only looks at you, his face pulled down in an angry frown.
"listen here, darling," heeseung commands, voice dipping even lower. he pulls you by your thighs to the edge of the bed, pushing your legs open.
he glances down and you stare at his face as it turns into a look of intrigue, his eyes transfixed on your core.
you're soaking wet, clenching around nothing as your husband continues to survey what's between your legs. he looks back up at you, a hand reaching over to grasp your jaw in one large hand.
"my father was a madman and so was his father before him," heeseung begins and you feel something prod at your entrance. you gasp as half of him is pushed in with a single swivel of heeseung's hips.
"maybe i'll turn out to be one too, but right now, all i did was clean up the mess he made," heeseung continues, fully burying himself inside you. your legs tremble at the painful stretch and all you want is to hide your face away in the sheets but heeseung's firm grip on your face won't let you.
"he started this war," heeseung says accusingly. he draws back, allowing you momentary relief before thrusting back in, a half cry, half moan escaping you.
"yeah, my sweet?" heeseung pauses to address you momentarily, his eyes dark and evidently hungry.
"feel good?"
he doesn't wait for an answer as he lets go of your face in favor of holding your hips tightly between his hands. heeseung sets up a ruthless pace, mouth hanging open as he watches himself slide in and out of you.
you grit your teeth and refuse to look away yourself, gazing upon the face of what might be another in a line of mad kings. your husband, half of who you are now, half of what your children will be.
the thought sickens you to your stomach.
but the delicious fill of his cock deep in you has you quivering with want, breathless with desire. if this is how good it feels to fuck a mad king, then maybe you are the perfect maiden to wed him.
well, not so much a maiden now that he's buried in you to the hilt, one of his hands grabbing at your breast.
his words 'he started this war' echo in your brain, but a shift of heeseung's hips has your eyes rolling back in your head, that thought forgotten momentarily.
"come on my sweet, look at me," heeseung pleads gently. he leans down, nearly flattening his form over your own. he continues to fuck you, thursts shallow in this new position
you hook your own arms around heeseung's neck, meeting his eyes.
"you don't fear me, do you?" heeseung asks laboriously through heavy breaths. "you never did."
you withhold an answer, leaning in to press your lips roughly against heeseung's instead. he growls low in his chest, his hips moving even faster than they already were.
you keep your mouths together, tongues lapping over every expanse of each other. a shiver runs through you as you feel the friction against your core increase, turning rougher and rougher as heeseung seems to lose himself in you.
you pull away, running your fingers through the hair on the back of heeseung's head. you tighten your grip on the strands and heeseung hisses.
"no," you finally answer. "i'm not scared of you so fuck me like you mean it."
the world seems to give out from all around you as the last words escape you, your hips pinned down painfully against the bed. your legs quiver as you feel heeseung pound into you, faster, rougher, harder. you let a sob rip out of you, your whole body seizing as your release slams down on you.
heeseung looks at you and only you, eyes wide and ravenous.
you clench around heeseung and he collapses over you, hands braced on either side of your head, his face scrunched up in pleasure as you feel him throb deep in you. you feel his thick seed warm up your walls and you gasp softly, your body finally relaxing.
you lay there, weak and unmoving, as heeseung pulls out and rolls off you. he comes to rest on one side of you, his hair tickling your shoulder. without another word, heeseung pushes himself up and retrieves his discarded breeches off the floor.
your heart sinks as you think that he's about to leave. your throat tightens, the thought of being used just like that, despite being his wife, his queen, repulsing you so badly.
but heeseung doesn't walk out the door. he loosely strings up his breeches and walks over to the vanity on the other side of the room. you failed to notice when you came in the first time the bowl of water and washcloth resting beside it.
heeseung wets the cloth, wringing it momentarily before walking back over to you. you've propped yourself on your elbows now, watching his every move.
"sit up, my sweet," heeseung implores gently, seating himself beside you.
you oblige, wincing at the slight sting between your legs as you shift into a more comfortable position. heeseung starts with your face, smoothing over your cheeks with the cloth, the cooled water bringing out a sigh of relief.
he moves to wipe at your neck, then your chest. he peers down at you, laying a gentle hand on your thigh.
"let me clean down there too," heeseung says. you nod, feeling vulnerable under his watch. you part your sore thighs, letting heeseung swipe away at the stickiness.
heeseung finishes and returns the washcloth to the bowl. he picks your chemise up on the way back to you, placing it in your hands. you wordlessly stand, pulling the thin fabric over you, overtly aware of heeseung watching you from where he sits on the bed.
you turn back to him and he's gazing up at you, expression softer than all of the other times. he reaches a hand out shakily, as if hesitant, and you take it, stepping between his parted knees.
he places his hands on our lower back as if to cradle you. before you could stop yourself, you let your hand smooth back some of his silvery locks of hair.
"he—my father—sent those decrees of war out when he realized i was on to him," heeseung mumbles.
you nod gently, signaling him to go on.
"i found out he'd been plotting this war for years right under my nose. i was brought up to command my father's army but i never knew it was for this," he continues.
"i begged him to stop but you can't reason with someone mad," heeseung says, voice shaking.
looking at him now, eyes so doe-like and piercing straight through your own, you realize that underneath what you called a tyrant, he was just a boy willing his father to do right.
"i had to end it one way or another," heeseung continues, head bowing.
you pull him to you, cradling him against your chest. you feel heeseng's arms tighten around your torso.
"but by the time i had dealt the final blow, it was too late. the decrees were sent and i had no choice but to fight the war he left me with."
your chest constricts.
"why not just take the decrees back, admit surrender?" you ask quietly. heeseung looks up at you and you're struck by how handsome he looks when he's not acting like the king he is.
soft lips, the delicate turn of his nose, fluttering eyelashes.
"i was already a kinslayer and a kingslayer. i couldn't lose everything after that," heeseung whispers, brows pinched together as if begging you to believe him.
a flurry of emotions course through you. despite this, you smile apologetically.
you bend down slightly, placing a gentle kiss on heeseung's forehead.
"i don't fear you," you whisper against his skin. you feel him deflate beneath your touch.
"but there is so much more i need to understand about you, husband."
heeseung pulls away and nods. he takes your hands in his, kissing your knuckles.
"and i'll try my hardest to make you understand. i don't expect forgiveness, just your open heart and open eyes to see who i really am."
you afford yourself another smile. you lean down once more, kissing heeseung softly.
"they're wide open, my King."
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bubblebbg · 4 months
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can i ask for a jealous mizu from blue eye samurai feeling a little overprotective and jealous when taigen spars with reader bc they are a swordmaster as well? Mizu doesn’t like it how taigen always gets you to laugh or how he injures you when sparring
why yes, anon. you may. Only warning is violence, but like, not really? Not proofread. Also, Mizu's pronouns change per perspective. I may as well shamelessly plug my other Mizu fic right here ;))
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❝𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝❞
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Mizu has no one to blame but herself when she's forced to bite back her envy and watch you with Taigen. If you two spar one more time, she might throw up in her mouth. It's about time she takes matters into her own hands.
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The clinking of metal on metal, the air sliced through with a swish; all sounds Mizu has become accustomed to. Nonetheless, her eyebrow twitches in irritation, eyes following the movements in front of her. She thinks to herself that she never wanted to be this accustomed to those sounds, especially not when accompanied with Taigen's stupid remarks.
She watches you double back after having knocked him down yet again in the midst of your spars. She hates the way the both of you giggle.
"Please," Mizu rolls her eyes, "It can't be that funny the eighth time."
Taigen collects his sword and stands, sheathing it before dusting himself off. "Like you could do any better. Sure, you're good, but you're no master." He looks to you as he says this, smiling as if the praise was at all inconspicuous. She scoffs a bit when you smile back, crossing her arms and looking to the side.
The irony of her jealousy is that it's of her own making. You've asked Mizu to train with you before, and every time it's been a no. Because she cares about you, she at least does you the decency of making up excuses. "I'm tired, maybe tomorrow" or "I'm busy" - poor excuses, she knows, but she's trying here - and you've learned to stop asking. The truth is, she doesn't trust herself to not give away what she tries to keep hidden. Her heart already beats hard enough around you. The consequence? Watching you spar with a man who's clearly inferior to you, all while he makes pathetic advances and jokes. She's not sure if she hates him or herself more right now.
"But that's right," Taigen remarks, a snarky look on his face, "You're too scared, aren't you?"
The look in your eyes is cautionary as you nudge him. "Stop it," you mutter. And Mizu knows she shouldn't be so childish as to take the bait, but this isn't about you; it's a direct challenge from Taigen on her (sort of) manlihood.
"I am not scared."
"Then prove it. Duel. Right now."
"That's enough, Taigen," you reply, always the mediator, "If Mizu doesn't want to spar, then he -"
"I'll do it," she stands, approaching you both and stopping in front of Taigen with a searing look, "And you'll see that you're not even half the swordsman I am."
𓆩… . … . … . … . … . … . … . … . … . … . … . … . …𓆪
Inhale. Exhale. You stand face to face, a few meters apart, each a hand on their sword. The cold bites, snow falling between the two of you. When you look into her eyes, you see blazing fire, a spirit like tempered steel. When she looks into yours, there's something more unnerving; calm, like the surface of water undisturbed. Her heart pounds.
Inhale, she wills herself. Exhale. She draws and lunges, and you're quick to block it. Another swing, and another, and another, all quick and strong. Sharp eyes, she thinks. Each attack of hers is stopped as soon as it begins. Your eyes, watching as if not only to prevent, but to predict.
Inhale. She steps back, assessing. You're like a fortress - impenetrable defense. Your lips curl in the slightest smile and there goes her damn heart's pounding again.
Exhale. She drops to a crouch and swipes snow at you in an attempt to blind you, to throw off your analysis. She lunges through the spray with a decisive blow, a duel-ending strike.
Nothing. Her blade hits nothing.
Instead there's a blade at her throat, with you behind her. "How the hell did you -"
She reddens at the feeling of your warm chuckle at her ear. "You're breathing gives you away," you whisper, "Every time, without fail." You sheath your blade and Mizu whips around to look at you. She can't help but share the smile you give her. "Dirty bastard," she replies, and your laughter fills the air, the only sound she'll never tire of.
"Hah! I knew it, you're no match either, Mizu!"
Mizu's about to reply when you beat her to it.
"Whatever Taigen, he lasted longer than you ever will."
And it's Mizu's turn to laugh.
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i-cant-sing · 5 months
Text
Okay but I need yall to help me figure out the character(s) for the following scenario:
Imagine a romantic yandere falling for reader, and ofc reader isn't in love with yandere for obvious reasons like red flags. Maybe they did try dating, Yandere is a charmer, comes from a rich family, he's smart and hardworking and oh so head over heels in love with you. He's always taking you out on best dates, HAS to get you the largest fucking bouquets (excellent taste in flowers) and buys you expensive but well thought out gifts.
But for whatever reason, things dont work out and you break things off hastily and most likely over the phone before leaving the country. And yandere just- breaksdown. I mean my man does not have a good mental health as is, but you leaving, actually leaving him just breaks him down and he has a full blown panic attack.
I'm talking about yandere falling to his knees, clutching his chest and gasping for air, tears streaming down his face as he screams your name like a mad man. His family, they love him, they adore their son/brother/grandchild sm, it pains them to see him in such a miserable state. Yandere man is so delirious that he has to be sedated, tranquillised by medical professionals because he's just losing his fucking mind, babbling your name over and over again like a mad man. His condition only worsens as time passes, and so his family decides to take drastic measures because they can't see their beloved son/brother/grandkid so fucking dead and depressed and a shell of a once bright man. They love him so much, they only want ti see him happy, so they use their money and influence to track you down and try to convince you to return and take yandere back. When you refuse, they take the high way and force you to come with them, dragging you kicking and screaming to their private jet and fly all the way home, where yandere is.
You're in a dishevelled state, tears running down your cheeks as you struggle to free yourself from their grasps as they take you to yandere. And when yandere sees you... for the first time in months, his family sees the light return in his eyes as the yandere reaches out for you, scared that you're just his mind playing tricks. When he finally touches you, he is immeadiately pulling you into a hug, arms tightening around your body like a gilded cage as he cries into your shoulder and thanks his family for bringing you back. His family only smiles with tears in their eyes as they lock the door behind them when they leave, so that you don't go running away. Meanwhile, yandere has pulled you into his lap and he's looking at you with such sad eyes, staring at each feature of yours over and over again as if to memorise it all again. He can't help the tears that continue to slip out of his eyes, maybe he's crying that you're finally here, or maybe he's crying for all the time that's been lost when you weren't here. You fall asleep soon due to exhaustion, but yandere doesn't sleep a wink that night because he continues to stare at you and play with your hair very gently, finally closing his eyes when morning comes and he wraps his arms around you and traps your legs with his.
By now, you guys realise that the yandere's family is not only yandere for their son/brother/grandson but also for you. They are yandede for you too, but they're not allowing you to leave them or their son or even make him unhappy ever again. Some members are willing to let all you "tantrums" slide, while others are not so kind. BUT one thing is for sure, you're ALWAYS safe with yandere s/o, no matter what.
Now, for the characters I've had in kind for this scenario are:
Halim Mehmet Shah and the Shah Family (my ocs)
Dabi/Shotou and Todoroki clan (I am the OG creator of Yandere Todoroki Clan)
I wanna say Naoya or Toji but the Zenin clan hates them both....
Dick Grayson/Jason Todd and Batfam
What do you guys think?
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Mood board for this scenario^^^(I love Pinterest)
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