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#i was struggling with the titles alone already
trvgbild · 2 months
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I was tagged by @heathkrycek to spell out my username in song titles! ✨ (you know i cant resist these music tags)
T - total metal (deathhammer)
R - ratten im system (kotzreiz)
V - vomit coffin (king gizzard and the lizard wizard)
G - grüne haare (knochenfabrik)
B - belladonna (tabula rasa)
I - iron fist (motörhead)
L - luuber framtid (lifelover)
D - dominatrix's call (lamp of murmuur)
tagging anyone who sees this post and wants to join in (tag me if u do!!!) you'd probably enjoy this @prosopagnosias 🫶
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amalisam · 4 days
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Great! I was fired from my job today because I am Palestinian. :)
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Hi, I'm Amal, a Palestinian architect from Gaza! I traveled to Germany two years ago to support my family back in Gaza. Since we lost our house, shops, and all our sources of income, I've had to shoulder the financial burden alone. It's been incredibly tough for me in the last eight months to send money to my family weekly, especially with the ongoing war destroying our income and causing prices in Gaza to skyrocket. There were days when I had zero money for days on end. I even had to downgrade from an apartment to a single room to cover my expenses and rent. I also lost my company; yes, I had a small architectural firm in Gaza. I had dreams of seeing it grow, but everything crumbled.
Now, both my family and I are without homes and jobs. This is unbearable! Is being Palestinian a curse, or what?
I really can't bear it anymore. Isn't it enough that our photos are all over social media platforms, appealing for donations on GoFundMe? What bothers me the most is that the innocent people who donate to us are just like us, struggling to pay rent and taxes, already burdened with their own hard lives. On top of that, I feel like a burden to them. Why should nations pay for the consequences of the stupidity and brutality of their leaders? They might start World War III instead of stopping genocide!
Four months ago, I fell victim to someone in a high position in Egypt who pretended they would evacuate my family for 20k, instead of the 40k. To some of you, this might seem like a small amount, but for me, it was all I had. Why does the world agree to suffocate us? Why do we have to pay money for our lives at all?
I feel daily ashamed for not joining the protesters; I keep asking myself if I get arrested, they'll kick me out. But to where? I am completely without a home to shelter me if I was kicked out! What will happen to my family? Who will support them? Why are we being exterminated, and our children slaughtered?
Why was I fired? 💔
Why is this world so cruel? 💔
A Thousand Whys and Whys!
I needed to vent my anger. Thank you to everyone who read this.
Title: A Normal Day for a Palestinian Abroad
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nellasbookplanet · 3 months
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Book recs: black science fiction
As february and black history month nears its end, if you're a reader let's not forget to read and appreciate books by black authors the rest of the year as well! If you're a sci-fi fan like me, perhaps this list can help find some good books to sink your teeth into.
Bleak dystopias, high tech space adventures, alien monsters, alternate dimensions, mash-ups of sci-fi and fantasy - this list features a little bit of everything for genre fiction fans!
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For more details on the books, continue under the readmore. Titles marked with * are my personal favorites. And as always, feel free to share your own recs in the notes!
If you want more book recs, check out my masterpost of rec lists!
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Lagoon by Nnedi Okorafor
Something massive and alien crashes into the ocean off the coast of Nigeria. Three people, a marine biologist, a rapper, and a soldier, find themselves at the center of this presence, attempting to shepherd an alien ambassador as chaos spreads in the city. A strange novel that mixes the supernatural with the alien, shifts between many different POVs, and gives a one of a kind look at a possible first contact.
Nubia: The Awakening (Nubia series) by Omar Epps & Clarence A. Hayes
Young adult. Three teens living in the slums of an enviromentally ravaged New York find that something powerful is awakening within them. They’re all children of refugees of Nubia, a utopian African island nation that sank as the climate worsened, and realize now that their parents have been hiding aspects of their heritage from them. But as they come into their own, someone seeks to use their abilities to his own ends, against their own people.
The Scourge Between Stars by Ness Brown
Novella. After having failed at establishing a new colony, starship Calypso fights to make it back to Earth. Acting captain Jacklyn Albright is already struggling against the threats of interstellar space and impending starvation when the ship throws her a new danger: something is hiding on the ship, picking off her crew one by one in bloody, gruesome ways. A quick, excellent read if you want some good Alien vibes.
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Dawn (Xenogenesis trilogy) by Octavia E. Butler*
After a devestating war leaves humanity on the brink of extinction, survivor Lilith finds herself waking up naked and alone in a strange room. She’s been rescued by the Oankali, who have arrived just in time to save the human race. But there’s a price to survival, and it might be humanity itself. Absolutely fucked up I love it I once had to drop the book mid read to stare at the ceiling and exclaim in horror at what was going on. Includes darker examinations of agency and consent, so enter with caution.
Midnight Robber by Nalo Hopkinson*
Utterly unique in world-building, story, and prose, Midnight Robber follows young Tan-Tan and her father, inhabitants of the Carribean-colonized planet of Toussaint. When her father commits a terrible crime, he’s exiled to a parallel version of the same planet, home to strange aliens and other human exiles. Tan-Tan, not wanting to lose her father, follows with him. Trapped on this new planet, he becomes her worst nightmare. Enter this book with caution, as it contains graphic child sexual abuse.
Rosewater (The Wormwood trilogy) by Tade Thompson
In Nigeria lies Rosewater, a city bordering on a strange, alien biodome. Its motives are unknown, but it’s having an undeniable effect on the surrounding life. Kaaro, former criminal and current psychic agent for the government, is one of the people changed by it. When other psychics like him begin getting killed, Kaaro must take it upon himself to find out the truth about the biodome and its intentions.
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Do You Dream of Terra-Two? by Temi Oh
Young adult. A century ago, an astronomer discovered a possibly Earth-like planet. Now, a team of veteran astronauts and carefully chosen teenagers are preparing to embark on a twenty-three year trip to get there. But space is dangerous, and the team has no one to rely on but each other if - or when - something goes wrong. An introspective slowburn of a story, this focuses more on character work than action.
The Best of All Possible Worlds by Karen Lord
After the planet Sadira is left uninhabitable, its few survivors are forced to move to a new world. On Cygnus Beta, they work to rebuild their society alongside their distant relatives of the planet, while trying to preserve what remains of their culture. Focused less on hard science or action, The Best of All Possible Worlds is more about culture, romance and the ethics and practicalities of telepathy.
Mirage (Mirage duology) by Somaiya Daud
Young adult. Eighteen-year-old Amani lives on an isolated moon under the oppressive occupation of the Valthek empire. When Amani is abducted, she finds herself someplace wholly unexpected: the royal palace. As it turns out, she's nearly identical to the half-Valthek, and widely hated, princess Maram, who is in need of a body double. If Amani ever wants to make it back home or see her people freed from oppression, she will have to play her role as princess perfectly. While sci-fi, this one more has the vibe of a fantasy.
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An Unkindness of Ghosts by Rivers Solomon
Life on the lower decks of the generation ship HSS Matilda is hard for Aster, an outcast even among outcasts, trying to survive in a system not dissimilar to the old antebellum South. The ship’s leaders have imposed harsh restrictions on their darker skinned people, using them as an oppressed work force as they travel toward their supposed Promised Land. But as Aster finds a link between the death of the ship’s sovereign and the suicide of her own mother, she realizes there may be a way off the ship.
Where It Rains in Color by Denise Crittendon
The planet Swazembi is a utopia of color and beauty, the most beautiful of all its citizens being the Rare Indigo. Lileala was just named Rare Indigo, but her strict yet pampered life gets upended when her beautiful skin is struck by a mysterious sickness, leaving it covered in scars and scabs. Meanwhile, voices start to whisper in Lileala's mind, bringing to the surface a past long forgotten involving her entire society.
Eacaping Exodus (Escaping Exodus duology) by Nicky Drayden
Seske is the heir to the leader of a clan living inside a gigantic, spacefaring beast, of which they frequently need to catch a new one to reside in as their presence slowly kills the beast from the inside. While I found the ending rushed with regards to plot and character, the worldbuilding is very fresh and the overall plot of survival and class struggle an interesting one. It’s also sapphic!
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Chain-Gang All-Stars by Nana Kwame Adjei-Brenyah*
In a near future America, inmates on death row or with life sentences in private prisons can choose to participate in death matches for entertainment. If they survive long enough - a rare case indeed - they regain their freedom. Among these prisoners are Loretta Thurwar and Hamara "Hurricane Staxxx" Stacker, partners behind the scenes and close to the deadline of a possible release - if only they can survive for long enough. As the game continues to be stacked against them and protests mount outside, two women fight for love, freedom, and their own humanity. Chain-Gang All-Stars is bleak and unflinching as well as genuinely hopeful in its portrayal of a dark but all to real possible future.
Parable of the Sower (Earthseed duology) by Octavia E. Butler*
In a bleak future, Lauren Olamina lives with her family in a gated community, one of few still safe places in a time of chaos. When her community falls, Lauren is forced on the run. As she makes her way toward possible safety, she picks up a following of other refugees, and sows the seeds of a new ideology which may one day be the saviour of mankind. Very bleak and scarily realistic, Parable of the Sower will make you both fear for mankind and regain your hope for humanity.
Binti (Binti trilogy) by Nnedi Okorafor
Young adult novella. Binti is the first of the Himba people to be accepted into the prestigious Oomza University, the finest place of higher learning in all the galaxy. But as she embarks on her interstellar journey, the unthinkable happens: her ship is attacked by the terrifying Meduse, an alien race at war with Oomza University.
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War Girls (War Girls duology) by Tochi Onyebuchi
In an enviromentally fraught future, the Nigerian civil war has flared back up, utilizing cybernetics and mechs to enhance its soldiers. Two sisters, by bond if not by blood, are separated and end up on differing sides of the struggle. Brutal and dark, with themes of dehumanization of soldiers through cybernetics that turn them into weapons, and the effect and trauma this has on them.
The Space Between Worlds (The Space Between Worlds duology) by Micaiah Johnson
Multiverse travel is finally possible, but there’s a catch: No one can visit a world where their counterpart is still alive. Enter Cara, whose parallel selves happen to be exceptionally good at dying. As such she has a very special job in traveling to these worlds, hoping to keep her position long enough to gain citizenship in the walled-off Wiley City, away from the wastes where she grew up. But her job is dangerous, especially when she gets on the tracks of a secret that threatens the entire multiverse. Really cool worldbuilding and characters, also featuring a sapphic lead!
The Fifth Season (The Broken Eart trilogy) by N.K. Jemisin*
In a world regularly torn apart by natural disasters, a big one finally strikes and society as we know it falls, leaving people floundering to survive in a post apocalyptic world, its secrets and past to be slowly revealed. We get to follow a mother as she races through this world to find and save her missing daughter. While mostly fantasy in genre, this series does have some sci-fi flavor, and is genuinely some of the best books I've ever read, please read them.
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The Women Could Fly by Megan Giddings*
In an alternate version of our present, the witch hunt never ended. Women are constantly watched and expected to marry young so their husbands can keep an eye on them. When she was fourteen, Josephine's mother disappeared, leveling suspicions at both mother and daughter of possible witchcraft. Now, nearly a decade and a half later, Jo, in trying to finally accept her missing mother as dead, decides to follow up on a set of seemingly nonsensical instructions left in her will. Features a bisexual lead!
The Prey of Gods by Nicky Drayden
South African-set scifi featuring gods ancient and new, robots finding sentience, dik-diks, and a gay teen with mind control abilities. An ancient goddess seeks to return to her true power no matter how many humans she has to sacrifice to get there. A little bit all over the place but very creative and fresh.
The Summer Prince by Alaya Dawn Johnson*
Young adult. Young artist June Costa lives in Palmares Tres, a beautiful, matriarchal city relying heavily on tradition, one of which is the Summer King. The most recent Summer King is Enki, a bold boy and fellow artist. With him at her side, June seeks to finally find fame and recognition through her art, breaking through the generational divide of her home. But growing close to Enki is dangerous, because he, like all Summer Kings, is destined to die.
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The Blood Trials (The Blood Gifted duology) by N.E. Davenport
After Ikenna's grandfather is assasinated, she is convinced that only a member of the Praetorian guard, elite soldiers, could’ve killed him. Seeking to uncover his killer, Ikenna enrolls in a dangerous trial to join the Praetorians which only a quarter of applicants survive. For Ikenna, the stakes are even higher, as she's hiding forbidden blood magic which could cost her her life. Mix of fantasy and sci-fi. While I didn’t super vibe with this one, I suspect fans of action packed romantasy will enjoy it.
Babel-17 by Samuel R. Delany
1960s classic. Rydra Wong is a space captain, linguist and poet who is set on learning to understand Babel-17, a language which is humanity's only clue at the enemy in an interstaller war. But Babel-17 is more than just a language, and studying it may change Rydra forever.
Pet (Pet duology) by Akwaeke Emezi
Young adult novella. Jam lives in a utopian future that has been freed of monsters and the systems which created and upheld them. But then she meets Pet, a dangerous creature claiming to be hunting a monster still among them, prepared to stop at nothing to find them. While I personally found the word-building in Pet lacking, it deftly handles dark subjects of what makes a human a monster.
Bonus AKA I haven’t read these yet but they seem really cool
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Lion's Blood by Steven Barnes
Alternate history in which Africans colonized South America while vikings colonized the North. The vikings sell abducted Celts and Franks as slaves to the South, one of which is eleven-years-old Irish boy Aidan O'Dere, who was just bought by a Southern plantation owner.
The Sound of Stars by Alechia Dow
Young adult dystopia. Ellie lives in a future where humanity is under the control of the alien Ilori. All art is forbidden, but Ellie keeps a secret library; when one of her books disappears, she fears discovery and execution. M0Rr1S, born in a lab and raised to be emotionless, finds her library, and though he should deliver her for execution, he finds himself obsessed with human music. Together the two embark on a roadtrip which may save humanity.
Womb City by Tlotlo Tsamaase
Lelah lives in future Botswana, but despite money and fame she finds herself in an unhappy marriage, her body controlled via microchip by her husband. After burying the body of an accidental hit and run, Lelah's life gets worse when the ghost of her victim returns to enact bloody vengeance.
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Orleans by Sherri L. Smith
Young adult. Fen de la Guerre, living in a quarantined Gulf Coast left devestated by storms and sickness, is forced on the run with a newborn after her tribe is attacked. Hoping to get the child to safety, Fen seeks to get to the other side of the wall, she teams up with a scientist from the outside the quarantine zone.
Everfair by Nisi Shawl
A neo-victorian alternate history, in which a part of Congo was kept safe from colonisation, becoming Everfair, a safe haven for both the people of Congo and former slaves returning from America. Here they must struggle to keep this home safe for them all.
The Splinter in the Sky by Kemi Ashing-Giwa
Space opera. Enitan just wants to live a quiet life in the aftermath of a failed war of conquest, but when her lover is killed and her sister kidnapped, she's forced to leave her plans behind to save her sister.
Honorary mentions AKA these didn't really work for me but maybe you guys will like them: The City We Became (Great Cities duology) by N.K. Jemisin, The Lesson by Cadwell Turnbull, The A.I. Who Loved Me by Alyssa Cole
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yandere-daydreams · 4 months
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Title: Dragon On The Tower Roof.
Pairing: Yandere!Malleus x Reader (TWST).
Word Count: 4.2k.
TW: Fantasy AU, Mentions of Blood/Bruising, Mentions of Injury to Reader, Implied (Consensual) Sex, Possessive Behavior, and Manipulation.
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Malleus met you at the base of his tower.
With a single movement of his wings, he descended from his perch and landed in front of you – placing himself between you and the stone behemoth. Had you been a more imposing figure, a knight or a prince or the general of some distant army, he would’ve cut you down the moment you entered his valley, but your only armor was a thin rucksack tunic and your only weapon was a rusted sword – the tip of its chipped blade currently planted in the ground as you struggled to keep yourself on your feet. He could smell blood on you, although he couldn’t be sure if its source was the jagged, poorly bandaged wound on your calf or the dark stains painting your humble clothes. You were clearly not a knight, much less a prince, and if you were a general, your army had abandoned you long ago. Altogether, you were not the most intimidating nuisance he had ever had to dismiss. He might’ve been grateful, had you not been a nuisance at all.
In the past, his visage alone had been enough to make even the bravest adventure abandon their quest, but your weary eyes only glazed over his black-scaled wings, his spiraling horns, the slit pupils of his unnaturally green eyes. You acknowledged him with a slight nod, putting more of your weight on your makeshift aid. “I believe I’m here to slay you, dragon.”
His greeting, likewise, came in the form of a bowed head, a narrowed gaze. “And to rescue the prince, I assume.”
You shrugged, the gesture alone threatening to cost you your balance. “I’m sure they’d prefer if I didn’t. I think they’ve got someone else for that – a lord, or maybe a king. Someone more befitting than a filthy criminal, surely.”
At that, Malleus felt the ghost of a smile tug at the corner of his lips. Novelty was rare, this far into his everlasting life, and he could not say he’d ever had a prisoner sent after his head. “What sort of crime gets you sent to the lair of a monster?”
You brightened at the question. “Thievery,” you answered, pride overshadowing your exhaustion. “I could either face you or let them cut off my hands and, well, I find those to be quite essential to my burgeoning career.”
This time, you earned an airy laugh, a reflexive flick of his tail. He took another moment to evaluate you before speaking. “You are tired, thief.”
It wasn’t a question, but you answered regardless. “It was a long journey. You aren’t an easy monster to reach.”
“And injured, presumably by the fangs of some great beast of legend.”
“Right again.” You paused, then added, “If there are any legends about wolves, I mean.”
“And hungry.” Your smile fell. When you failed to respond, he went on. “May I invite you to share a meal with me before our battle?”
He watched as you swallowed, as you straightened. Your sword was pulled from the ground and allowed to hang limply at your side as you stared up at him with such a hopeful expression – his heart, had it not been so terribly calloused, might’ve broken at the sight alone. “Well,” you started, your humor gone in exchange for pure, unabashed desperation. “I suppose I can’t refuse such a kindly offered invitation.”
With no further conversation, he stepped to the side, raising his staff to the tower. After only a moment, the endless cobblestone pulled away to reveal a simple, wooded door – already open and awaiting his entry. Smiling, he motioned for you to follow him, and without protest, you obeyed.
~
You ate, to put it politely, like a starving animal.
There’d been an attempt at decency when you first sat down at the opposing head of his banquet table, a gallant effort to make use of the flatware arranged into neat, never-ending lines on either side of your plate, but what little energy you had for such pleasantries was depleted quickly as your attention was dedicated entirely to the whims of your empty stomach. Countless other dishes decorated the table – ranging from fine delicacies fit for the pallets of kings to common staples even the lowest of peasantry would’ve been familiar with, but Malleus was content to nurse a goblet of dark, herbed wine as he watched you bask in the feast.
Only after you’d gotten your fill did you seem to remember that you had company, your expression taking on a sheepish note. “This is what they brought me to trial for. Trespassing, I mean,” you began, and Malleus hummed in acknowledgement. “It was a baron’s manor – not quite a castle, but close to it. I heard he had the most beautiful gardens on this continent, and at the time, it seemed unreasonable to have to wait for an invitation just to take a look.”
“I thought you were a thief?”
“You must have the wrong person. I’ve been many things, but never a thief.” You leaned back in your chair. “I’m afraid I’ve always been too tender-hearted for that kind of thing. I could never stand to insult my hosts.”
“Such a considerate guest I have,” he said, cocking his head to the side. “I suppose I won’t have to worry about being robbed blind if I let you stay the night, then.”
You shook your head, feigning ego. “I would never, dear dragon. Your reclusive prince, on the other hand—”
Whatever you might’ve gone on to say was swiftly replaced with a sudden gasp as every torch within sight burst into a pillar of vicious emerald flame, casting the dining room in a blinding, sickly green before dying out just as abruptly as it’d erupted. Malleus let out an exasperated breath, bringing a hand to his temples. “My apologies. My patience has grown—” He cast a wayward glance toward the ash now seared into the stone walls, the ceiling. “—thin, over my time here.”
You allowed a beat to pass by in silence, then another. “Your prince,” you said, finally. “Is he important to you?”
“I can think of nothing I value more.” The answer came easily, even if the intensity of his sentiment surprised him. “An old friend asked me to ensure his safety. I’ve performed my role dutifully ever since.” The taste of blood rose into the back of his throat, but he drowned it out with another long sip from his goblet. “They used to send entire armies to reclaim him, then lone knights, then the occasional adventurer. You might be the first human to come seeking my head in two or three decades.”
Your smile took on a shy lilt, your eyes drifting to the table. “I wasn’t really supposed to come after you, either. Most people just take it as an exile, but they gave me a sword, and…” It was your turn to laugh, now, to be surprised with yourself. “I didn’t have anywhere else to go. I thought, even if I don’t get to rescue any princes, it could be nice to see how much of the fairy tale is true.”
“And you’re satisfied with what you’ve found?”
“Not entirely,” you admitted. “But I’m glad I met you, dear dragon.”
After some hesitation, he pushed himself to his feet and closed the distance between you. You stiffened, your gaze flitting blatantly toward the sole exit, but you didn’t attempt to flee as he pulled the closest seat in front of you and fell into it. “May I see your leg?”
You were far more than reluctant, but complied. The material of your travel weary trousers was pulled above your knee, the strips of fabric you’d attempted to fashion into bandages cut away with his own pitch-black talons. The wound was worse than he’d assumed, more severe than he assumed. Ragged skin stretched from your knee to your ankle, harsh puncture marks littering what little flesh was still in-tact. The stress of your journey had prevented the brunt of the damage from healing, and even without the use of his advanced senses, he would’ve been able to feel the heat radiating off of your skin, the first signs of infection beginning to set in. You were lucky you’d made it to his tower before the fever spread. His territory was cruel to the most resilient of creatures, and you seemed far from resilient.
“I have a salve in my collection that should aid in your recovery. That, paired with a few days of bed rest, should have you on your feet again in a week’s time.” Not a lie, but not far from one, either. He’d mended worse with a snap of his fingers, but there was no reason you should have to be burdened with such knowledge. “If you can find it within yourself to share a roof with a monster and delay our duel yet again, I can provide room and board while you recover.”
Your laugh was bright and strained. “You’re terribly kind to someone who came here to take your life.”
“And you’re very trusting of a creature who could easily end yours.” He let his pointed claws scrape over your bare skin, prolonging his evaluation. “Think of it as a show of my gratitude. My time here is well-spent, but tends to pass slowly. Visitors, whether benevolent or malicious, help to color my days.”
“Then I will have to be the most colorful visitor you’ve ever had,” you chimed, your grin renewed with fresh vigor. Clearly, you were not the type of mortal who could go long without a task. “I’ll make you wait on me hand and foot and bend to my every whim, until the thought of encountering another human being makes you sick. When I’m done, there might even be a dragon in this tower worth slaying.”
His only response was a steady nod, a low hum. He stood and, in the same motion, hooked one arm under the bend of your knees and another around your waist, lifting you into the air before you had the chance to so much as think to pull away. Instinctually, you attempted to re-balance yourself against him, and Malleus couldn’t help himself – laughing as he pulled you to his chest. “If I am to dote on you to the point of sickness, then let me start now. You’re in no state to walk on your own.”
You opened your mouth as if to complain, but anything you might’ve said was deemed too unimportant to warrant the effort. Your smile softened, your eyes falling shut as you rested your head against his shoulder. You lingered there, quiet and content, as he carried you through the halls of what would come to be your home.
~
Your prescribed period of bed rest came and went. Your bruises healed, then your leg (although you still tended to limp during particularly heavy rainstorms), and your exhaustion was replaced by a buzzing sort of restlessness. He never asked you to leave, and after some time, you seemed to stop expecting him to. You spoke rarely of your past (aside from the ever-changing series of events that led you to his tower, of course) and never of your future. When Malleus was in one of his more indulgent moods, he allowed himself to believe that, when he did catch you looking in his direction with such a glimmering worry in your eyes, you weren’t afraid of him, but of the possibility that he might send you away.
Despite your claims of spoiled houseguests and encumbered hosts, he was only driven to near-madness once while sharing your company. It’d been shortly after you instated yourself as a resident of his tower, rather than a fleeting visitor, and took to exploring your new dwelling without reservation. It’d been his own fault, really. He’d forgotten to warn you away from the upper wing, to resketch the protective runes he’d long-since allowed to fade, but such rationality had escaped him as he stood in the doorway, his mind empty and his eyes trained on your kneeling figure. He watched, paralyzed, as you raised a hand, reaching towards the marble slab, and then he was behind you – the points of his talons grazing the skin of your throat before he managed to restrain himself, curling his fist around the collar of your shirt, instead. Without warning, he hauled you off your feet, ignoring the half-choked shriek you let out in response.
His eyes fell to Silver, searching for any signs of harm, of disruption. Of course, Silver was unchanged. His colorless hair remained fanned over his velvet-cushioned pillow, the silk sheets and hand-stitched quilts still folded neatly at the foot of his bed – waiting to be put to use when the weather turned in autumn. Malleus took a moment to observe the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest, the gentle movement behind his closed eyes, before letting out a breath of relief and turning to you. “I don’t recall giving you permission to enter this chamber.”
“Sorry, I— I was just looking around, and I saw the flowers on the door—” Silver’s own craftsmanship, preserved from the ravages of time by Malleus’ spell work. He’d painted them as soon as he was old enough to hold a brush, along with matching murals on his bedroom walls that hadn’t survived the passing ages. “—I got curious, that’s all. Is this the prince I was sent after?”
Malleus set his jaw, straightening his hunched posture. “…it is,” he answered, eventually. He let go of your collar and let you stumble onto your feet. “His name is Silver. I never knew him by any titles.”
Malleus’ gaze shifted to you, but your eyes remained fixed on Silver. “He’s beautiful.”
Despite himself, he felt the edge of his lips turn downward. He rested a hand on your shoulder, and you seemed to recover from your daze, turning to face him with a hopeful smile. “Do you know when he’s going to wake up?”
Malleus felt a coil of heat form in the back of the throat. The taste of ash laid heavy over his tongue, but he swallowed back his guilt and forced himself to respond. “In another hundred years, perhaps,” he mused, his tone melodic and detached. “There’s no known cure for a curse like his.”
A phantom of disappointment flickered across your expression, but it was suppressed quickly. Rather, you turned your attention outward – to the heavy, woven curtains draped over each crystalline window. “Will you help me let in some light? I hate to insult your taste, but it’s terribly depressing in here, and—” You brightened, taking him by the sleeve and tugging gingerly. “We don’t want his highness to have any nightmares, do we?”
With some reluctance, Malleus nodded. “Light, but nothing else.” When you failed to acknowledge him, he caught you by the wrist, squeezing with just enough pressure for your smile to falter. “Light, but nothing else. Do you understand?”
Your eyes darted back to Silver, but only for a moment. He was thankful for that – for your restraint. A second longer, and his true nature might’ve overshadowed his better judgement. “Of course, dear dragon. Nothing else.”
He inhaled sharply, then let go of you altogether.
It was a choice that, in the approaching months, he would only come to regret.
~
“This is what they banished me for, you know.”
“This?”
“Yes, this exactly.” You propped your chin on his chest, positioning yourself to more easily card your fingers through his hair. He let his eyes fall shut, basking in the warmth of your affection, of your bare skin pressed into his. Your clothes laid discarded on the grass around you, one of his wings bent and raised to shield you from the harsh light of the setting sun. He would have to get you back to the tower, soon. He’d always been indifferent to the deadly chill of night, but you – in your precious, delicate mortality – were not so durable. “Actually, not quite – I don’t think I ever made it to this part. It was the first time I’d ever attended a royal ball, and I happened to dance with a young lady so breath-taking, I couldn’t help but drop to one knee and dedicate my heart to her the moment our hands touched.” You sighed, feigning remorse. “Little did I know that she was the princess that ball was being thrown for, and so moved by my passion, she refused to let me out of her embrace until I agreed to marry her. Of course, her father – the king, as the fathers of princesses tend to be – couldn’t have that. It’s a shame, really. We would’ve made a gorgeous couple.”
Malleus pursed his lips, fighting back a smile. “And what does that make me? The next scorned lover of a silver-tongued rouge?”
“Oh, no. If you asked me to marry you,” You propped yourself up, pressing a kiss into the curve of his jaw. “There’d be nothing in the world that could stop me, dear dragon.”
Your hand fell to his cheek, and wistfully, you lulled him into a kiss – shallow but lingering, punctuated with a playful nip at his bottom lip. You pulled back with a smile, another quick peck to his cheek. You moved to say something, but he interrupted you, as mournful as he was to cut off such a precious moment so callously. “I found your wildflowers.”
Immediately, your expression fell. “I made sure not to—”
“I know, beloved, I know.” You knew better than to lay a hand on Silver. Your small bouquet had been left on the corner of his bed, another additional chain of asters and lavender braided into one of the longer strands of his waist-length hair. As much as he wished he could say he was only concerned for Silver’s well-being, it wouldn’t have been the truth. Something else, something darker, had accompanied the discovery – something it would be better for you to stay ignorant of. “We’ve talked about this. Silver is vulnerable, in his current condition. Even the simplest luxury is an unspeakable risk.”
Your shoulders dropped, your body going slack against his. You bowed your head, burying your face in the dip of his shoulder, and despite his frustration with you, he didn’t push you away. “I’m sorry. It just feels so cruel to let him suffer alone.”
“He’s never been alone.” His tone was more curt than he’d meant it to be. “He’s always had me.”
“I know, but—” He expected you to raise your hair, to flash him that brilliant grin. Instead, you only settled against him, speaking softly into the crook of his neck. “He just seems so sad.”
Malleus took a deep breath, clenching his eyes shut.
Then, before he could let himself think better of it, he wrapped an arm around your waist. In one fluid motion, he turned you over – leaving you on your back, one of his knees planted on either side of your waist, your form tucked safely underneath his. His kiss was less gentle than your own – that deep, aching sort of hunger overwhelming his cautiousness as his tongue raked over yours, as he groaned unabashedly into your mouth. You returned his affection emphatically; your fingers soon knotted in his hair, your eager touch preventing so much as the thought of distance between your body and his. Because there never would be distance between you and him. Because there was no reason you should ever have to be taken away from him.
Hours later, when the last traces of light had faded and the stars were painted in swirling patterns across the sky, he would carry you back to his tower – unconscious and pliable in his arms. That would be the first night you spent in his bed, and as he laid there with you, he couldn’t help but imagine how wonderful it would be if you never left.
~
The runes carved into Silver’s door were redrawn, Malleus’ enchantments refreshed, and your bittersweet sympathy slowly rotted into a distinctly bland melancholy. You didn’t speak of him (Malleus could only wonder how you ever managed to speak of anyone when so many of his marks so often decorated your skin), but he noticed new scratches around the well-rusted lock on Silver’s door, caught you braiding chains of daisies and crowns of marigolds with no intended recipient in mind, and at night, you tended to slip out of his hold and wander. Sometimes, he waited for you, lying awake as you hunted for whatever solace there was to find in the empty halls of an ancient tower. Most nights, tonight, he chased after you.
He found you in a window near the tower’s highest room, laid across the wooden sill, your back propped against the empty frame. He didn’t ask to join you – wordlessly lowering himself to the floor at your feet. As if by reflex, your hand fell to his horns, your thumb tracing over a particular ridge near the base as you broke the quiet. “Have ever told you why I’m here, dear dragon?”
Countless times, but he still played along. “Who has my heart been stolen by today, beloved?”
“A murderer,” you said, hollowly. “And not a particularly clever one, at that.”
He waited for you to go on, to spin some elaborate tale of love and loss and betrayal and poor humor, but you only lapsed back into silence, your gaze turning back to the pitch-black valley. He watched your vacant expression for a moment, then another before letting his eyes fall shut and resting his cheek against your thigh.
~
Malleus had expected there to be more anger than this.
You were in a similar position to one you’d taken the first time you stumbled into Silver’s chambers – kneeling beside his marble bed, your ever-weary eyes fixed on the unknowing object of your adoration. The only difference was that, today, Silver’s hand was raised to your lips, now slightly parted in shock. He didn’t have to guess at the source of your astonishment. In front of you, Silver was sitting up. His posture was unsteady, his eyes barely open, but the obvious was undeniable.
He was awake.
To think, there was something of merit to Lilia’s stories of true love after all.
Rather than anger, rage, pure and undiluted fury, an odd sort of calm settled over his blank mind as you snapped in his direction. Your astonishment turned to horror in an instant. “Malleus, I didn’t— I was only trying to—”
He put you out of your mercy quickly. He raised his staff and, propelled by some unseen force, you were torn away from Silver’s bedside and thrown against the nearest walls – the force of the collision far from fatal, but enough to leave you limp and unconscious. With your safety ensured, he stepped forward, approaching Silver. He was awake, but only just. So many decades of uninterrupted sleep would not be so willing to release him from their taloned clutches without a struggle, and there was a certain dream-like lull to the way his eyes skirted over the limited scenery before settling on Malleus, his features immediately softening in relief. “Malleus?”
“I’m here.” Malleus allowed himself a small smile before bringing the end of his staff to Silver’s forehead. “You can rest, brother.”
There was just enough time for the edges of Silver’s lips to turn downward before he collapsed back onto the marble slab. Malleus would arrange him later on. For now, his attention turned to you.
He gathered your crumpled form in his arms and carried you through the halls of his lonely tower, before stepping into the clear air and fresh heat of the valley. He laid you in the tall grass and, after taking a moment to appreciate your peaceful expression, brought a hand to your face, cupping your cheek tenderly. The spell came to him instinctually, but he took his time, mourning the loss of your time together with each mumbled word. That was a silver-lining of immortality, though. Infinite time allowed for infinite repetition, and he couldn’t imagine giving up the opportunity to fall in love with you again.
When he was done, your eyes fluttered open, a smile quickly finding its way to your lips. “Hello, dragon.” You gazed darted to either side nervously, your mind struggling to catch up with your clever tongue. “I would love to introduce myself, but it’s the funniest thing – I can’t seem to remember what I’m doing here.”
He bit back a smile. You tried to force yourself into a more dignified position, but barely managed to get an arm underneath you before pausing, wincing, reaching for the back of your head and coming away with blood smeared across your fingertips. Malleus did what he could to hide his delight.
“You’re a thief. You injured yourself attempting to scale my tower. It was an impressive effort, but tragically unnecessary.”
This time, he couldn’t hide the wide, simpering grin that came to rest across his lips.
“I was always going to invite you inside.”
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freelancearsonist · 2 months
Text
Won't You Suffer for the Angels to Fly?
➔ Joel Miller x fem!Reader - 2k
➔ Joel finds religion in the last place he expected to--a preacher's daughter.
➔ Rated MA for pure blasphemy. a lot of religious imagery and defiling of holy places--please read at your own risk. unprotected p in v sex, creampie, squirting, fingering (f receiving), corruption kink, HEFTY age gap (r is early 20s [unspecified], joel is 56), reader uses feminine pronouns and has female anatomy [please let me know if i missed anything at all :)]
➔ this is for my mid to plus!sized readers :) you're beautiful and valid and i love you. this was written in basically one sitting after i binged mike flanagan's midnight mass in one night. thank you to my lovelies @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin and @shakespeareanwannabe for talking me through this <3 title is from "heaven only knows" by bob moses
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The Bible teaches–at least according to what Joel was able to gleam from the Easter service–that everything happens for a reason. That every pelting raindrop in its descent from the sky, even before it lands heavy and dark in his hair or soaks the lush green landscape of Jackson, has a purpose.
He’s struggled a lot with purpose ever since hearing that existential crisis-inspiring sermon that Tommy had dragged him to. 
In the preacher’s defense, it went over well with everyone else. So many people are lost nowadays, adrift in a world that doesn’t seem to have space for them. They need that hope, that reassurance that they’re here for a reason. That they’ve survived hell on earth not out of luck, but out of purpose. He pulled out the big gun that everyone needed to hear on one of the two days a year that everyone in Jackson has their ears open to him. It was tactful, and Joel has to acknowledge that. Your father is clever, if not cunning.
It’s a trait that you’ve learned directly from him, whether purposeful or not. But you sat right in the front row and nodded along to every word, accepting without thought or conflict that purpose is in every action, every reaction, every change of tide and every gust of wind.
And if everything has a purpose, your purpose must be to torture him.
You never have anything but a smile on your face for Joel. Joel, a man older than your own father, a man whose hands have broken every commandment that you hold so dear. A man that should know better than to let you get under his skin and infect his dreams.
He wonders what it would be like to hold someone so perfectly untainted in hands that have killed and destroyed and sinned. Hands that are strong, hands that are experienced, hands that are greedy. He’s certain he could teach you all about greed. He could make you beg, plead, sob for more and more and more until the only thought remaining in your pretty little head is how much you want to take from him. Until you become a glutton at the altar of his generosity.
And oh, how generous he could be once he had you begging. Minding your manners and asking nicely for what you need, of course, but he would never deny you anything you asked of him.
“Can I help you with that, Mr. Miller?” He hadn’t even noticed he was struggling–and he wouldn’t be, really, if he wasn’t so distracted. Putting new legs on a pew isn’t the issue after all; it’s the fact that you’re sitting there on the stairs that lead up to the altar and absentmindedly swinging your legs as if you’re taunting him. As if you understand that his resolve is slipping with every passing second he’s alone in this room with you. 
“Joel.”
“Hmm?” You shift your posture to lean closer, and that skirt that’s already way too short to be worn by the pastor’s daughter, in a house of God of all places, rides just a little further up your deliciously full thighs. 
How is he expected to work, to keep his mind on the job, when all he wants is to know what those thighs might feel like wrapped around his head?
He clears his throat and adjusts “You can call me Joel, sweetheart.”
He sees it, then. It’s so subtle, but it’s not imagined. You squirm at the pet name, at the raspy drawl of his voice, and it changes everything for him.
He sees in his mind the sweet girl, barely out of her teens, who sits in the front pew with a Bible in her lap. He sees the girl who sings so sweetly to the tune of every hymn. He sees the girl who’s so shy that she blushes every time she catches his gaze.
And then he sees everything underneath the act. He sees the girl who’s bold enough to wear a bright red dress to the Easter service. He sees the girl who makes eye contact with him across the dining hall every night to watch the way he reacts to her lips wrapped so tantalizingly smoothly around her spoon. He sees the girl who knew he would be alone in the chapel today–the girl who wore an easily accessible skirt just for the occasion.
You bookmark the page you’re on and set down the book you were reading, eyes fixated on him all the while. “Is there something I can help with, Joel?”
There certainly is, and it’s not the pew he’s supposed to be repairing.
He remembers, vaguely, hearing something about how God spares guilt from sinners when sin is necessary. It must be necessary to teach you a lesson, then–as you stride over and kneel beside him, your eyes heavy with anticipation and lashes fluttering, he doesn’t feel an ounce of guilt.
“Hasn’t your daddy taught you not to dress like this?” He takes the hem of your skirt idly in his hand, rubs the silky fabric between his thumb and forefinger. He’s not touching you, not really, but his hand is so achingly close. An inch or two, and he’d feel your warmth–those plush thighs that God created to rule over Joel Miller’s mind, body, and soul; ‘til death does he finally know peace, amen.
You shake your head and even manage to seem smug as you say, “No. He just teaches everyone else to resist temptation.”
“I’ve never been much good at that,” he murmurs.
He thinks that you know that. He thinks that you’re his crucible, his most important moral trial–that maybe, if he can turn you away now, he’s a good man.
Joel Miller is not a good man. His kiss is crushing. It’s hellfire, it’s brimstone, it’s everything you’ve been taught to fear your entire life. You melt into it so prettily, accepting your damnation with parted lips and eager eyes. A wanton moan gets caught in your throat when his hand slips further up your skirt. 
No panties–in a place of worship, no less. He should bend you over his knee for this transgression, make sure you understand how filthy you are. But there’s hardly time for that now, not when he’s even more desperate than you are. And you are desperate–dripping down his fingers into the palm of his hand as your teeth leave perfect little indents in the plush skin of your bottom lip.
His free hand grips your chin firmly, guiding your eyes to his. He wants to see your depravity, the flickering embers of lust in your eyes as you come on his fingers and cry out for salvation from the all-consuming pleasure.
“Oh my God–”
His hand tightens around your jaw just the slightest bit in warning. “No, baby. You moan my name when I’m touchin’ you.”
And you do–thighs trembling, eyes watering, you cry out his name like a prayer as your cunt pulses and squeezes around his willing fingers.
There’s an unpracticed tremble to your hand as you reach to work open his belt, and it makes his cock throb under the confining material of his jeans.
You want every inch of his skin pressed against yours, so desperate for it that you’re nearly in tears when he pulls your fingers away from the buttons on his shirt. He’s not foolish–no one steps foot into this place during the week, but he knows better than to tempt God’s sense of humor. This has to be quick and contained, and you know it too; you picked your little skirt for exactly that reason.
He catches a glimpse of your glistening need as you settle over his thighs, and once again he battles to resist temptation. He whispers in your ear as you settle your chest against his and grind that fluttering, sensitive cunt along his length–promises himself more than you, really, that he’ll bury his face in your folds and drink from you next time. Next time–the promise makes you clench impossibly hard around nothing.
His eyes have never been quite as heavy as they are when you start to sink that dripping heat down his cock. Head tipped back, throat exposed, completely at your mercy. He has to force himself to look up at you–to worship the goddess enshrined on his altar, all his for the taking.
You bite into your lip nearly hard enough to draw blood as your hips settle against his, completely overwhelmed by the burning stretch of his size. He’s a challenge, certainly, but one that you are determined to overcome. 
“Easy, baby girl,” he grumbles as you start to rock against him before you’re truly accommodated. His hands rest heavy on your hips–not anchoring, but encouraging. As wrong–as depraved–as this may be, he wants you to enjoy it without pain. “That’s right, nice and slow.”
It doesn’t stay that way, though; the desperation mounts to a boiling point until you’re bouncing fervently in his lap. It’s delicious, the way the thick head of him drags against something deep and sensitive within you. He guides you when your thighs start to burn, grip tightening enough to leave forbidden bruises in the soft flesh of your hips. His mouth presses to yours, breathing the oxygen straight from your lungs as he presses his hips up. There’s nothing you can do but take it, pliant in his hold, head rolling back to accommodate the wet drag of his mouth and the tickling scratch of his beard against your throat.
He feels it before you do–a subtle flutter as your cunt tries sucking him in even deeper. And maybe, if he was a good man, he’d lean away from it and have mercy on you. But he’s not a good man–he’s a greedy, wanton, desperate man. He angles his hips and thrusts as hard as he can, shoving you into your release with force.
You overflow with it; gushing over him like a flood, staining his hastily pushed down jeans and the floorboards beneath.
He pushes you onto your back like you’re weightless, adrenaline coursing as he starts to slam into you. It’s not polite or sweet or loving–he fucks into you and empties himself like an animal. He growls deep in his throat as his cock pulses within you, instructing you to “take it, baby girl” as if you’d consider anything less. 
You don’t know where your release ends and his begins. All you know is his weight on top of you, his mouth on your jaw, the collective breathless pants that fill the room as you both come down together.
You’re not sure how long it is before he pulls out of your warmth with an actual whine, breath heavy against your neck where his face is so comfortably nestled.
And you start to laugh, because you wish you’d worn panties after all–you don’t know how you’re going to get home with the mess of cum that’s dripping down the curve of your ass.
He even chuckles with you, until he tears his eyes away from your blissed face and sees the cross hanging heavy on the far wall.
“Th-that…” he gulps. “That can’t happen again.”
“It can,” you assure him, and he supposes you’re right.
You keep your head down and your eyes to yourself on Sunday, even as you spot the barely-noticeable stain on the hardwood floor next to the newly-repaired pew on the right side of the aisle. It’s so faint that no one would notice it unless they were looking for it, but it’s glaringly obvious to you. You should be ashamed; you should be begging for forgiveness. But then you meet Joel’s watchful eyes, and the shame washes away. How can you feel guilty over an act of worship?
THE END
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froggibus · 27 days
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hiiiiiii i just wanna say i love ur work so much. i was wondering if i could request a jason todd hurt/comfort fic. i recently had a really scary experience outside of a bar, and it has been taking a toll on me. maybe something like reader and jason fight over something silly, and then something like that happens to reader and he comforts them after and feels bad about the fight before? with a lot of fluff and reassurance. maybe he gives them a bath or something:) THANK YOUUUU
Never Let Me Go - Jason Todd
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Pairing: Jason Todd x gn! reader
Genre: hurt/comfort, angst -> fluff
Word Count: 2.3k
Summary: after an argument with Jason, you're left to fend for yourself outside of a bar
CW: attempted assault, attempted SA, chasing, slight violence, dissociation/shock (reader), arguing, alcohol, hurt/comfort, pet names (Jason calls reader baby/hun), bathing together, jason is snarky at first
sorry this took so long! really hope you're feeling better, but if you (or anyone else reading this) ever need to talk, my inbox is always open <3 i talk about my own struggles with ptsd on this blog, and i want everyone to be able to feel safe enough to talk about theirs, too
i tried to keep the assault scene short and brief, but i've also added cuts before and after in case anyone would like to skip it.
(title slightly based on this song)
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“You know that stuff is pure sugar and no alcohol, right?” 
You roll your eyes when Jason gestures to your drink with a look of distaste, hiding his snark behind the rim of his glass. You’re tempted to remind him that the foamy beer he’s pounding back has even less alcohol than your Cosmo, but think the better of it. He’s in a bitchy mood, and there’s no point making it worse.
He’d gotten into a fight with Bruce the night before, and had practically gone on a rampage through Gotham’s underground. The anger radiated off of him still when he’d showed up at your apartment an hour earlier, even after he’d flashed you a tense smile and planted a tentative kiss to your lips.
You’d told him at least three times since then that he didn’t have to come with you—given the bar was around the corner from your home, and you could stumble home from it drunk, backwards and in your sleep—but Jason had insisted. As if you ever thought Jason would be able to relax knowing you’re out at a bar in the heart of Gotham, despite your assertions that you would only be having a couple drinks and maybe some chili fries.
You swish your glass around, watching the raspberry coloured booze slosh on the sides. “We can go home if you’re not feeling up to this,” you say gently. “I don’t mind.”
He gives his broad shoulders an irritating shrug. “You wanted to get out of the house, we’re out of the house.” 
Though he doesn’t say it, you can hear the unspoken words crackling through the air. What more do you want from me?
“But do you want to leave?”
Jason’s eyes narrow, black pupils forcing out imperial blue. “I go where you go.”
It takes more effort than you’d like to admit to resist tugging at your hair. Though it’s been years since he lived in Wayne Manor, and even longer since he studied under Bruce, the lessons he learned have never left him. Including this form of aggravating, diplomatic speech where his answers gave no answers at all.
“Whatever,” you sigh under your breath, crossing your legs and tilting your body back to your drink.
Jason scoffs, “whatever? Really?”
“Yes, really!” You’re grateful that the mix of conversations and the drone of 90s rock are loud enough to cover up your rising voice. “I just wanted to get out of the house for once and you’re being mean.”
“I’m being mean?” There’s a cruel smirk on his lips. “The only reason I’m here is because of you, so that you wouldn’t have to be alone.”
“I never asked for that.”
Your heart races painfully in your chest. You’ve never liked arguing, especially not in public when the both of you have been drinking and especially not when Jason is already chafing under the expectations of others. It’s a nightmarish combination that leaves electricity sizzling in the air and everyone in the room on edge.
He chugs the rest of his beer, not even bothering to wipe away the tiny bit of white foam that catches on the shadow above his upper lip. “Fine then,” he grumbles, and tosses a fifty onto the counter. “I’ll see you.”
He leaves no room for protest, already barreling his way through the tables. By the time you’ve even processed what just happened, he’s already at the door, back muscles tensing beneath brown leather as he yanks it open hard enough to shake the hinges.
You wait until you hear the familiar rev of his motorcycle before ordering another round.
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It’s late by the time you decide to pay your tab and head home. Your phone has long since been dead weight in your pocket, but even if it weren’t, you wouldn’t have bothered to check it. There was a part of you that hoped Jason would come back, that he would apologize, but that part is about as dead as your phone is.
It’s brisk outside now, and cold rain sprinkles from above. The dark rain clouds block out the moon, dim flickering street lights the only light you can see. You take a long, deep breath that clouds the air as you release it, rubbing your freezing forearms. Home is just around the corner, but that’s still an eight minute walk. Minimum.
A groan slips past your lips as you lean against the outside of the building, peering into the dark streets for any sign of a cab. A rock skids across the ground to your left and you snap your head in the direction it came from.
A man saunters towards you, his body encased in shadows. “Need a ride?”
A shiver rises up your spine. You shuffle further to your right, trying to put more distance between you and the stranger. 
He doesn’t take the hint. He moves closer, purposefully slamming his boots harder into the ground to get your attention. “I said,” he repeats, “do you need a ride?”
“No,” you swallow hard, adding a quick, “thank you.”
You don’t know this man, but you despise him. You despise his imposition, the southern twang of his voice, the fact you’re instinctually polite to him so that you don’t risk pissing him off.
Despite your plea, he keeps coming towards you. “I reckon you do.”
The alarm bells in your head start to shriek. You shove off of the wall, stumbling only slightly before you regain your balance and take off down the sidewalk. It’s dark and though you can no longer see him when you glance over your shoulder, you can hear the pounding of his boots on the pavement behind you.
And then his cold, clammy hands lock around your wrist and tug you hard. You strain against his grasp, using your entire body weight to get away, to go anywhere but here.
He’s so close you can smell the alcohol on his breath, feel the warmth of his body. Not warm the way Jason is, but warm the way a fire you shouldn’t go near is. You cry out desperately. The bar is still within sight, someone has to come out, someone has to see.
“Why not just let me show you a good time?” He says, “I’m a really nice guy if you give me a chance.”
You drive your elbow into his arm and his grip loosens enough for you to tug away. You rip your wrist from his grasp, but as you do, you lose your balance and crash onto the dirty, wet Gotham pavement. With how cold you are and the adrenaline your heart is furiously pumping through your body, you barely feel the impact.
You can’t see the expression on his face as you drag yourself across the pavement, but you hear a low chuckle. You imagine it’s similar to that of a wolf zeroing in on its prey.
And then, a booming voice cuts through the darkness. “What the fuck are you doing?”
Jason sounds pissed, but it's maybe the most beautiful thing you’ve ever heard. The most beautiful string of words in the English language.
The man spins on his heels away from you just in time to catch a harsh uppercut to the face. A loud crack reverberates through the buildings, and he goes down like a sack of potatoes on the concrete next to you.
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You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, looking up at Jason through your lashes. “You’re—how?”
“Oh, baby. Baby, baby,” he sighs, dropping to his knees on the pavement next to you. His new jeans are probably ruined from touching the ground—as are yours—but that seems to be the least of his concerns right now.
He cradles your head in his lap, his hands trailing up your damp, aching skin for any sign of injury. You shiver, closing your eyes and letting Jason hold you. The adrenaline flooding your veins has not yet diluted, and the calloused warmth from Jason’s hands is the only thing keeping you from floating away.
“I didn’t leave, baby, would never leave you. I was waiting around back when I heard you and,” he sighs, “I’m so sorry.”
His words are faint, so faint, and more gentle than you’ve ever heard him speak. Though he clutches you tightly to him, the feeling registers as barely a whisper. And then you’re on your feet, propped up against his side as he helps you back to where he propped his bike.
Your mind is somewhere else now. You’d have completely forgotten about your own body if it weren’t for the frantic, rhythmic shove of Jason’s heart against his ribcage with every step you take.
You’re not sure how you got back to your apartment, but you’re sure it was through no small effort on Jason’s part. Your waist is warm from where his hand rests—he’s refused to let you go for even a moment since he saw you on that pavement. 
You shiver violently even after you return to the warmth of your home. Jason had wrapped you in his jacket but even that did little to stop the shaking. 
He cups your face, a soft intensity in his eyes. “Let’s get you warmed up, hm?”
You barely react to his touch, or to his words. It doesn’t take a genius to know you’re in shock—Jason’s seen it more than enough times in his lifetime to recognize it at a glance. 
The shivering, that faraway and glassy look in your eyes, the way your lips move as if they’ll form words but no sound comes out. Your pupils themselves have almost doubled in size from the adrenaline coursing through your system. 
He’d take the crowbar a thousand damn times if it meant he would never have to see you like this. He would give away all that he has, and all that he is, to never subject you to this kind of pain.
“I’ll be right back,” he says, and starts towards the dark hallway leading to your bedroom and bathroom.
You let out a choked gasp—the most sound you’ve managed since earlier—and Jason whips around. Blue eyes snap to yours, looking more like broken glass through the tears catching on your own lashes. 
Don’t leave, you want to say. Not even for a minute, not even for a second. But your words fail you, and all you have to fall back on is a gasp of air and the tears in your eyes.
Jason understands, though. “Let’s go together, then.”
He grabs one of your hands in his, and holds your waist with the other. You walk like that down the hall, Jason holding you tight and guiding you to your bathroom. He helps you settle down on the toilet seat while he runs a hot bath.
Jason has you sit on the side of the bathtub, only your bare feet resting in the warm water. He sits with you, his legs on either side of your own and his arms around your waist. Already, the shaking has subsided and your eyes have started to clear. Relief floods his system, wiping away the guilt that’s been bubbling in his stomach.
He waits a few minutes, before saying, “let’s get you out of those clothes and into the bath.”
It’s posed more like a question, his fingers tracing inquisitive circles on your hip. He’s asking, you realize, if it would be okay for him to help you undress. If you’re comfortable being naked in front of him right now. The kindness of the gesture has your shoulders dropping from your ears.
“Y-yeah,” you manage.
Jason keeps his touch firm, steady, while he peels your dirty shirt over your head. He has you raise your feet above the water so he can help you with your pants and underwear, discarding your clothes in a pile on the tiled floor. 
He squeezes your shoulders reassuringly when he sees you hesitate at the side of the bathtub before finally stepping in and letting your aching body settle in the warm water. 
It’s an immediate relief. The chill your skin has taken on, the ice running through your blood, starts to defrost. 
Jason watches you relax into the warm porcelain, your impossibly tense muscles finally loosening. “Feeling any better?” He asks quietly.
“I’m sorry,” you mumble quietly.
He grabs a washcloth from the drawer beneath the counter. “Hey, none of that.”
“I just,” you take a deep, shaking breath, “if we had never gone out tonight, none of this would have happened and you wouldn’t have had to help me and—”
Jason splashes warm water over your head. “None of that,” he repeats. “I don’t want to hear any of that.”
“But—”
“Nothing that happened tonight was any fault of yours.” He brushes the wet washcloth across your face, wiping away stray tears. “You did nothing wrong. I should never have left you, plain and simple.”
“It’s not your fault either, Jay.”
He strokes the washcloth over your forehead. “I’m supposed to protect you, hun. I didn’t do a very good job of it tonight.”
“Get in here with me?” You clutch his forearm.
He chuckles. It’s been a very, very long time since Jason Todd could comfortably fit in a normal sized bathtub, but for you, he’d do anything. He’s  gentle climbing in the bath behind you, propping his legs around the outside of yours so you can comfortably lay back on him.
It’s a cramped fit, it couldn’t possibly be comfortable for anyone—but Jason sucks it up for your sake. Despite the ways his knees ache from the angle he keeps his legs, it all feels worth it when you lay your head on his chest.
“Thank you for being here,” you say quietly.
He plants a gentle kiss on the top of your head. “For you? Anything.”
And you know he means it.
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(if you enjoy content like this, interactions go a long way! comments, likes & rbs are always greatly appreciated ^-^ !!)
Masterlist | DC Masterlist
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amongemeraldclouds · 15 days
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Down Bad
Theo runs to the Astronomy Tower to confess his feelings for you before it’s too late.
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Theodore Nott x f!Reader
Warning: fluff, no use of y/n, kissing. Inspired by the Taylor Swift song with the same title. The first paragraph may sound grim, but I swear this is a fluff piece!
✿ Masterlist | 762 words
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Theodore Nott had really screwed up this time. His lungs burned and his heart pounded as he raced towards the Astronomy Tower where he was about to lose the love of his life. If he was too late, you would never know how he felt. Let alone have the future he wanted with you. No, he can’t think that way.
He allowed himself a moment catch his breath when he reached the top of the Astronomy Tower. When he saw you looking out beyond the ledge, his worst fears were confirmed. He ran towards you and grabbed your waist, holding tight as he walked backwards. You yelped in surprise, struggling against your unexpected assailant.
The struggle sends you both toppling down the floor, away from the ledge. You squirmed beneath - oh, Theo. Your breath caught in your throat when you realized he’s on top of you. Salazar, everything about him was so beautiful. You kicked yourself internally, willing your brain to catch up with your heart.
“What in Salazar’s name, Theo! What are you doing?” You seethed, angry and confused. You had been avoiding him for a week since he broke your heart. Picture this: you finally mustered up the courage to confess your feelings for your childhood best friend only to be met by silence - not even rejection, just silence. Like your feelings were not even worth his words. And now he tackles you?
“No, I should be saying that to you. What are you thinking jumping off from the Astronomy Tower? You can’t just leave me before I tell you that I love you too.” His intense gaze burned into you.
You blinked at his words, confused. “Pray tell, dear genius, what does one do at the Astronomy Tower?”
It was his turn to blink back in confusion. He looked off to your side and noticed your telescope and scattered instruments. He was too stunned to speak.
“I was doing our Astronomy homework, you dolt, which you would know about if you weren’t busy skiving off with Mattheo.”
“But Pansy said you’ve been depressed lately and was alone in the Astronomy Tower,” he thought back at the conversation. Sure, you had been down bad for him and because of him this week. You couldn’t even get through quidditch practice without crying and cursing his name.
And yet - “So you just assumed I’m going to throw my life away for you?” You scoffed. “I’ll get over you someday, but I don’t know how you’ll ever get over yourself,” you teased. It was adorable how his cheeks blushed in embarrassment though you hated how quickly your anger faded.
He buried his head into the crook of your neck to hide in shame just like all those times you’ve cuddled together. Your hands wrapped around his shoulders out of habit. “I didn’t know what I was thinking,” he admitted. 
“So there is hope yet for you and your ego,” you mused before your mind snagged on the rest of his words. “Wait, did you tell me you love me?”
He raised his head and looked back at you, “I did. I’m sorry I froze when you confessed your feelings. You deserved better. I’m not good with these things, but for you I will try. I love you. Ti amo così tanto.”
“Well, you already know how I feel,” you deadpanned, trying to channel your teenage petulance despite the warmth blooming in your chest. 
“I don’t get to hear it again?” He asked with a hopeful expression.
“No,” you replied, tilting your head away from him though you couldn’t hide the grin on your face.
“Too bad, I was hoping to kiss you after you said it.”
You looked back at him, returning the challenge, “kiss me and maybe I’ll say it.” 
So he did. Electric bliss shot through you the instant your lips connected. His lips were soft and warm, the taste of cigarettes and mint mingled together as he ran his tongue along your bottom lip. You gasped at the sensation and he took the opportunity to explore your mouth.
There was nothing gentle about the kiss. It was a hundred ‘finally’s melting together into this one euphoric moment. You ran your hands through his hair, needing him closer. Needing more.
The kiss was over way too soon as he propped himself on his elbows to look at you. He saw everything he needed to know in your expressive eyes. Still, he asked, “will you tell me now?”
“No,” you bit back a smile.
“Guess I’ll just have to kiss you more.”
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✿ Masterlist
A/N: A literal Down Bad moment with Theo tackling you bahahaha.
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astermath · 1 year
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title taken ✧*
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pairing: ethan landry x fem!reader
summary: ethan makes an offhand comment about potentially “dying a virgin”. you ask him if he’d like you to help with that. and how could he possibly refuse?
word count: 3.8K
notes: first time fully writing smut on this blog! I hope I did okay lol I probs got a bit carried away,, I remember hearing his comment in the movie and being like I VOLUNTEER I CAN HELP lmao, anyways,,, comments / reblogs are highly appreciated, and requests are open! lmk if you’d like to be added to the tag list for further ethan landry related content!
warnings: cursing, protected sex, oral (f and m receiving), ethan realizing how much he loves going down on you lol, MINORS DNI!!!! normal sized font below!
notes: guys hot take but I think ethan is a boobs guy, but what do you think? sound off in the comments ethan nation
P.S.: this is a REPOST with some slight edits, sorry for the inconvenience!!
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You distinctly remember the moment when Ethan made that comment.
You were all sitting outside, discussing your theories as to who the Ghostface killer could be and who you guys should be watching out for. When Ethan realized he was part of the core friend group, and as a result, also a target, he looked panicked.
“Am I gonna die a virgin?”
It was an offhand comment that no one paid much attention to, it seemed like everyone pretty much expected that from him. But you didn’t. Sure, he was a total dork, and really bad at talking to girls, but he was a pretty boy. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t considered hooking up with him before, but… That comment truly solidified the thought for you.
The two of you were sat on the couch of Chad and Ethan’s shared dorm. Despite Mindy telling you she didn’t trust him and that you shouldn’t be hanging out alone with him, you did very much need his tutoring. You’d rather get killed by Ghostface than have to retake econ.
But you couldn’t focus on the material. Not when Ethan’s virgin comment was making all kinds of images appear in your mind. You weren’t even listening to what he was saying, your brain having a field day with the thought of you taking that title away from him.
“Hey, Ethan.” You finally spoke up, looking away from your notes.
“Yeah?” He looked at you, the end of his pen held to his lips. He always had a habit of biting his pen when he got distracted.
“Are you really a virgin?”
The bluntness of your out of the blue question completely took him out of it. His eyes widened and he just sort of froze up, like his brain short circuited. You could tell he started blushing, and god did it look adorable.
“U-Uhm…” He put down his pen and tried to look anywhere but where your eyes were. Frankly, he was a bit embarrassed about it. He’d never even had a girlfriend, let alone have sex before, and as much as Chad tried to get him involved with girls he always struggled with it. Not just because of how awkward he generally was.
But because he had a crush on you already.
No one knew, not even his roommate, but lately he’d been struggling with keeping it to himself, especially as the two of you had been hanging out more on your own. There were so many moments where he just wanted to be closer to you, move all these papers aside and just kiss you right then and there.
His eyes were fixated on his laptop as he swallowed hard, clearly nervous about the whole ordeal. “Uhm… Yeah. I am…” He brought up a hand to scratch at the back of his neck, trying to keep his hands busy so his nerves wouldn’t show as much. “Just… Never got around to it.” He chuckled nervously.
You closed your laptop, realizing you’d made the poor boy uncomfortable with your sudden interest in his sex life. Or, well, lack there of. “Hey, it’s okay! It’s nothing to be ashamed about, there’s no, like, expiration date on when you have to fuck someone…” You tried to make him feel a bit better.
Ethan nodded awkwardly, genuinely wishing this couch would just swallow him whole so he could disappear. The girl he liked knew he was a virgin loser with no game, there was no way you were ever going to want him now.
The two of you sat in silence for a bit, Ethan wondering if it was too late to jump out a window and forget this ever happened. You, however, had a different turn of events in mind.
“Do you want me to help with that?”
Those words made Ethan look up from his laptop and his eyes widen. If your previous question was a pitch, this one was a home run. He wasn’t even completely sure if you actually asked that or if he imagined it, until he met your gaze. But he wanted to be sure his mind wasn’t playing tricks on him. “W-What?”
You shuffled a little closer, legs touching his, putting a hand on his thigh and leaning in slightly. “Do you want me to take your virginity?”
Ethan can feel blood rush to his cock from the question alone, his gaze darting from your lips back up to your eyes. If this was a dream, it was definitely the best one he’s had so far.
“Yes.”
Your lips meet his only a second after his reply, the book on his lap falling to the floor as you both lean in at the same time. You could tell he was nervous, but that didn’t stop him from trying. You tilted your head to the side and opened your mouth slightly to run your tongue across his bottom lip, an action that elicited a slight whimper from him.
His arms snaked around your waist and you raised yourself up onto his lap. A hand soon found its place in his curls, tugging gently to tilt his head back as your lips traveled down to his jaw, then to his neck, peppering gentle kisses and love bites on the way.
“S-Shit…” He spoke between hot breaths, one of his hands now resting on the soft flesh of your thigh, squeezing slightly whenever your teeth would bite down on his sensitive skin.
You giggle softly at how sensitive he was, lips sucking a darker mark on the spot below his ear. His hips were shifting beneath you, and even through multiple layers of clothing, you could tell he was getting harder by the second. You pulled back, hands coming up to cup his pretty face. He was already panting a bit, cheeks tinged pink from all this newfound excitement. “You look so pretty...” You press another soft kiss to his lips. “This okay?”
Ethan looks up at you with an almost desperate look in those doe eyes of his, nodding at your question. As much as you wanted to fuck him right then and there, Ethan deserved to be taken care of a little, especially since this was his first time experiencing most of this.
“Good, good...” Your thumb rubs gently across the soft skin of his cheek. “Wanna... Take this to the bedroom?”
“Please.” He breathes out against your lips.
The walk, or almost run to his bedroom, was a blur in your mind. You wasted no time, quickly getting inside and locking the door behind you both. Ethan was eager now that this was finally feeling real, hands swiftly finding your hips again and pulling you in for a passionate kiss.
“Hmm... Someone’s excited...” You mumbled in between kisses, stumbling backwards onto the bed until your back hit the mattress. Ethan held himself above you, brown curls perfectly framing his face as he admired how beautiful you looked on his bed.
He kissed you again, tongues playing with one another as his confidence was spurred on by his pure exhilaration. “Been... Wanting to do this forever...” He spoke against your lips as your hands searched for the hem of his shirt. “With you...” He pulled his shirt off in a hurry, diving back to meet your neck, pressing feverish kisses to your skin.
“Yeah?” You bit your lip, hand coming up to further push him into the crook where your shoulder and neck met. You let out a soft mewl when he bit down, wondering if he’d imagined this before. One of your hands moved over his chest, nails raking over the skin and undoubtedly leaving red lines in their wake. They travelled over his abs, down to his crotch, palming slightly, which earned a delicious groan from him.
You tilt your head to kiss the side of his head and get his attention to meet your gaze. His eyes find yours, half lidded, pupils blown out like he was high off the moment. “Me too.” You say, and you could swear it activated something in him when you did.
His hands start roaming under your shirt, and you take that as your cue to take yours off too. He stops for a moment, purely to admire the newly exposed parts of your body. Sure, he’d snuck glances at your chest when you wore tighter shirts, or when the collar would dip down just enough to give him a peek. But he only imagined touching your tits, how soft they were, how well you’d react to his hands.
His hand reached out and he gently cupped your breast, still a little careful. “So soft...” He mumbled to himself, his thumb slowly rolling over your nipple, almost teasingly so. You whined softly, arching your back a little into his touch. His other hand joined in and he squeezed them a bit, seemingly entranced by just how soft and pleasant they felt. Like they were made to be held by him.
He leaned down to your chest and looked up at you with puppy eyes. He could ask you to rob a bank with those eyes, and you’d do it. You just hoped he didn’t realize how you weak you were to that look.
“Can I?” He licked his lips.
“Y-Yeah, Ethan, anything...” You rubbed your thighs together. You knew he was just taking things slow, for both of your sakes, but god it felt like he was teasing you so badly.
He licked your nipple, a little hesitant, but he took the hand in his hair as a sign that he could continue. He wrapped his lips around the sensitive bud and suckled softly, closing his eyes as his fingers played around with your other nipple. You swore he was getting off on just sucking and touching your tits, noticing slight movements of his hips grinding into the bed.
He let go with an audible ‘pop’, earning a delicious whimper from you.
“E-Ethan...” You whined, catching your bottom lip under your teeth.
“Yeah...?” He hoped he wasn’t doing anything wrong.
“Touch me...” You spread your thighs a little more. “Please?”
“O-Oh, right... Sorry, I just... Got a little caught up in the moment.” He chuckled nervously and you did the same. You were glad there was still an air of lightness surrounding the whole ordeal. The last thing you’d want was for him to feel judged or uncomfortable.
He moved back a little between your thighs, hands exploring the soft skin of your legs with a pleased hum. He’d dreamt about moments like these so many times, ever since you became part of the friend group, he just couldn’t stop imagining what it was like. What you’d feel like, what you’d sound like... He was still processing a little that it was all actually happening.
His hand hesitatingly moved over your inner thigh, bringing a finger to gently trace over the fabric of your panties. His eyes widened a little at what he felt; you were soaked. He felt a little more confident in knowing he did that to you, but also a little shocked. “You’re... So wet...”
You brought up your hands to cover your face. You were, yes, but the way he was saying it made you all the more conscious about the effects he was having on your body. “Ethan... That’s-- You can’t...”
He grinned slightly at your reaction. He never knew you could get shy like this, you were usually such an open person. “Alright, let me just...” His fingers dipped under the waistband of your panties. He bit his lip when he discovered the hot wetness there, gently running over your slicked folds. “Is this okay?” he looked up at you.
“Mhm...” You nodded, your thighs twitching slightly when his finger grazed over your clit. “F-Fuck, yes... There, keep... Keep doing that.” You felt a little guilty for a second, remembering this was supposed to be about him. But you were doing him a favor, really, he was bound to have to find out how to touch a girl sooner or later.
His middle finger ran gentle and slow circles over your clit as his other hand kept busy running up and down your thigh. He stopped for a moment, hooking his finger around the elastic of your panties, looking at you for approval to take them off. You said something along the lines of “go ahead” between your whimpers, so he gently removed them from your body.
Again, he was taken aback by how beautiful you were, pussy glistening with juices. “God...” His thumb ran over your clit and you shivered slightly, having missed his touch, even if it was just for a few moments.
An idea sprung alive in his head, something he’d thought about many times before. “Hey, uhm... Can I...” He seemed nervous about proposing it.
“Hm? What is it Ethan?” You propped yourself up slightly onto your elbows, looking at him.
“Can I go down on you?” He paused for a moment, swallowing. “I, uh... I’ve always wanted to try that.”
You smiled at his request. Usually, the first thing guys would want is for a girl to go down on them, but you supposed Ethan wanted to explore all the options a little first. And maybe he wanted this to last longer than he would with your mouth on him. “Y-Yeah, sure...”
He smiled back, arms now on both sides of your thighs as he leaned his head down closer to your aching core. His hot breath hit your pussy, and you resisted the urge to just pull him closer. Instead, you ran your fingers over his scalp with an encouraging nudge. He stuck out his tongue, running it flat over the entirety of your wetness, humming at the taste.
You squirmed when he reached your clit, and his hands came up to settle on your thighs. He flicked his tongue and you moaned, almost obscenely, at the action. “F-Fuck!” He did it again, and your thighs started clamping down on him. “Jesus, Ethan...” He brought his lips down onto the needy bundle of nerves and suckled gently. Your head threw back as his tongue sent waves of warm tingles through your entire body.
“A-Are you sure this is your first time?” You spoke breathily through your moans and it only spurred him on further. He looked up at you with those all too familiar puppy eyes, tongue eagerly lapping at your juices. He moaned into your cunt, rutting into the bed slightly, fuck it felt good to please you.
You felt a familiar knot start to form in your stomach, hips moving against Ethan’s face as you mumbled his name over your whimpers. He sucked down on your clit again and that sent you over the edge, hand gripping his curls as you became undone beneath him. You rode it out on his face a bit before you relaxed back onto the mattress, thighs trembling in the aftermath of your orgasm. “Holy shit... Ethan...”
He slowly got up, using the back of his hand to wipe his mouth clean. “I hope I did alright.” He smiled, gently stroking your leg.
“Are you kidding me?” you spoke up after finally catching your breath. “You did so well baby.” You propped yourself up and he leaned down to kiss you, letting you taste your own juices on his tongue. Your hands went to his pants in the meantime, working on undoing his belt. “If you’d just… Help me out with those…” You smiled against his lips. “I could return the favor.”
He wasted no time in taking off his pants, kicking them off the bed until he was left in just his boxers. He kneeled on the mattress, his hard-on straining against the fabric of his underwear. You leaned forward onto your elbows, and he swore just the sight of you like that would have finished him off.
You leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his bulge through the fabric, and you noticed a twitch from his cock in return. “Been wanting to know what you taste like for months…” You mumbled, hooking your fingers over the waistband of his underwear to free his throbbing cock. The tip was already dripping with pre-cum, proof of just how worked up he got from eating you out earlier.
“Just relax, ‘kay?” You looked up at him and offered a sultry smile, to which he nodded. You reached out and with a gentle grip, pumped his length a few times. He bit his lip, suppressing a groan. God your hand felt so much better than his…
You leaned in and licked across the tip, collecting the bead of pre-cum on your tongue and savoring it. “Such a pretty cock too…” You licked up the length of him and he hissed through his teeth, hand landing gently on the back of your head. Not pushing, not pulling, just wanting to touch you.
He whined out your name when you suckled on the tip, looking down at you with desperate and needy eyes. “Fuck… T-That feels… So fucking good oh my god…” His hand moves over to your jaw, so you’re looking up at him now, and the eye contact doesn’t break, not even once.
His breathing picks up when you start to bob your head, but he stops you before you go deeper, pulling out of your mouth. “Shit, sorry, was that too far?” You look at him with a worried expression.
“No, no, not at all, it’s just… I wanna last longer.” He looked a bit embarrassed, and you felt a sense of pride of almost making him cum just from giving him head for a bit.
“That’s okay,” You got up to your knees and pressed a kiss to his lips. “I’m starting to get impatient anyways,” His breath hitched when you traced your fingers over his length again. “Need you inside me…”
You gave him a slight push so he sat down on the bed as you leaned over to grab a condom from the pocket of your discarded shorts. You rolled it over his cock, a snug fit, as expected, and your eyes went back to his face. He watched your pussy hover over his length, mentally preparing himself. If you going down on him felt that incredible, then this was about to be an out of body experience.
You put one hand on his chest to stabilize yourself, and reached one hand under to run his tip between your folds, lubing him up with your juices. “You ready?”
He nodded, hands coming up to gently rest on your hips. With that, you sank down onto his cock, slowly but steadily taking him inch by inch. Both of you moaned in unison at the joining of your bodies, neither of you imagining it would feel quite like this. You, surprised by the stretch he gave your cunt, him, surprised by your warmth and tightness.
“Fuck…” You sighed out, before you fully took his length, skin meeting skin with an audible clap. “So... Deep...” You put both of your hands on his chest, leaning forward a little. “Feels good, huh? You fit inside me so perfectly...”
“Shit...” He squeezes your hips harder, not enough to bruise, at least not yet. “So tight...” Ethan moves his hips up a little and you moan at the movement, the head of his cock grazing a very special spot inside you.
“F-Fuck, Ethan, hold on... J-Just...” You raised your hips, almost pulling him out completely.
“Let me...” You lowered again, ass meeting his hips. “Take care of you...” You started to establish a steady rhythm, Ethan watching your body move in complete fascination. You were gorgeous, tits bouncing, making the prettiest noises. Any guy would kill to have you on him like that, and he was no exception.
Your thighs started burning a little after a while, and he could tell as your movements got less intense. But you felt so good, every single change in motion sent jolts of pleasure through his body, his cock twitching whenever you would moan out his name.
He decided to keep chasing this high and take the reigns, putting a hand on your lower back and getting up, laying you down on the mattress as he pulled out.
“E-Ethan! What are you-- o-oh my god--” Your sentence got cut off by him sliding back inside you, his arms resting besides your body. You didn’t expect this more... Initiative-taking side of him, but it was welcome either way. You hooked your legs around his hips to pull him in closer, arms resting over his shoulders.
He quickly began thrusting, hips snapping forward, the room filled with the almost pornographic sounds coming from the two of you. He looked at you, curls sticking to his sweaty forehead, mouth slightly agape. You pulled him in by his shoulders to capture his lips, moaning into his mouth as he picked up the pace.
“Fuck... ‘M close... So close...” He spoke through heavy pants, head now buried into your neck.
“Me too baby, me too, holy shit don’t stop... D-Don’t stop!” You felt the hot coil in your stomach get to a breaking point, the bed rocking slightly with Ethan’s movements as you started repeating his name between your moans.
Ethan’s hips pushed into you one last time, cock twitching as he came, filling the condom nearly to its brim. He groaned your name into your neck, breath hot against your love bite covered skin.
You followed right after, legs clamping down on him, your pussy clenching onto his cock and milking every last drop out of him. Your thighs trembled as you panted, holding him close as he rode out his orgasm with a few last sloppy thrusts.
His body collapsed on top of you, the weight almost comforting, and you wrapped your arms around him, pressing a kiss to his head. He moved his head to kiss you lazily, and you chuckled at how adorable he was being. He pressed a few kisses to your lips, eyes fluttering open soon after.
“Thank you...” He smiled sleepily, still coming down from the amazing high he’d experienced just then. “That was... Amazing...”
“Could say the same to you...” You smiled back, basking in the sweet after sex euphoria while you could. You whined slightly when he finally pulled out, suddenly feeling a bit empty.
Ethan disposed of the condom while you went to his bathroom to pee really quick. He sat back down on the bed and looked at his phone, seeing multiple messages from his roommate.
[chadmeister]: jesus christ
[chadmeister]: are u guys almost done
[chadmeister]: i’ve been here for like 20 minutes now you know
[chadmeister]: pretty sure the entire floor heard u two
[chadmeister]: at least u def won’t die a virgin now MY MANNN
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tag list <3
@kometqh 
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lxkeee · 3 months
Text
I'M IN THE WIND, YOU'RE IN THE WATER
PART ONE
—Angel! Lucifer Morningstar x Mermaid! Reader
Fandom: Hazbin Hotel
Genre: Fanfiction/Romance with slight angst
Synopsis: what if there are other supernatural beings that existed alongside angels?
Notes: If only I wasn't lazy in making my titles have ombre colors I would've had pretty colorful titles rn>:(
PART TWO | PART THREE
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Long before humans, supernaturals have already existed. One of these are the angels.
Lucifer was a curious angel, one of the first angels that was created by God. One of the most beautiful angels to have ever existed and one of the few who has the purest of hearts and intentions. Three pairs of wings adorning his back.
Despite his good intentions, the elders do not agree to his way of thinking as they think his ideas are a threat to the order they tried so hard to maintain.
With this, he was often alone as the other angels tend to avoid him.
So most of his time, he often flies around the vast lands of the earth. Getting his mind away from spiraling into insanity.
Lucifer wonders about the other supernatural beings, he knows they exist but he hasn't met one though.
One of the kinds he wanted to meet were the mermaids, he read about them when he spent his time in the heaven library. He thinks they are fascinating and beautiful based on the descriptions written on the books.
Oftentimes, he made sure to fly nearby the ocean waters. Enough that his body barely touched the cold water.
Unfortunately, he hasn't made any progress in seeing one with his own two eyes.
He sighs as he twirls in the air, large majestic wings flapping to keep his body in the air. His reflection is mirrored by the sparkling sea water. The light blue skies as his background, white fluffy clouds passing by his body. Strong winds caressing his face. A gentle smile on his face. He loves flying so much, he's free.
Folding his wings back, allowing his body to dive down. Spreading it once more to stop himself from diving into the cold ocean water, the gust of wind made by his wings made small splashes in the water.
He maintained this distance, his body a few inches away from the water. Keeping his body stable as he glides through the air.
A laugh escaping his lips, the angel genuinely enjoying this pastime of his.
Somewhere in the distance, a splash was heard. Catching his attention, his eyes whipping in the direction of the sound. His eyes widened when he could see a light blue and dark blue ombre colored mermaid tail splashing through the water and disappearing once more down to the depths.
A mermaid!
The discovery was enough for him to lose his focus as his wings stuttered. Making him fall into the cold ocean water. Halo disappeared when he made contact with the water.
His eyes widened in panic, his wings would be soaked and that means he couldn't fly. He could feel his body getting heavier as his clothes got dense from the water. He struggled to keep himself afloat, his wings adding a weight for him to carry.
Water begins to fill his lungs as he struggles to breathe, his consciousness begins to slowly fade away. Before his world was enveloped with total darkness, he swore he could see a blurry figure swimming towards him.
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[y/n] groaned in annoyance, she just went for a small swim. She didn't expect to see an angel and she surely didn't expect the dumbass to fall into the water.
Watching as the angel struggled to swim upwards, she sighs softly to herself as she began to swim towards the drowning male. Worry in her heart when she saw him close his eyes.
Catching him into her arms, his head on her shoulder. Keeping him steady as she swam upwards, her powerful light blue and dark blue ombre tail moving against the current.
Their heads are finally out to the surface, [y/n] turns her head around—left and right as she looks for a nearby land. Finally seeing one, an island a few distance away from them.
The angel is still unconscious in her arms, carrying both of them against the current. Making sure his head remained on the surface. To avoid more water getting into his lungs. Her gills open slightly as she breathes in the oxygen in the surface.
Finally arriving at the shore, she drags the heavy angel. Muttering something in her language, annoyance in her voice.
She finally managed to bring him to dry land, the angel was a mess, his light blond hair all over his face. Moving away his hair so she could perform CPR on the male, as she did so. She pauses.
He's... He's beautiful.
Red circles adorning his pale cheeks, highlighting his beautiful angelic face. Plump and soft lips.
[y/n] shakes her head to shake off the intrusive thoughts. Pressing her hands against his chest, pushing it so the water in his lungs would be pushed out.
Tucking her long hair behind her ear as she leans down, pressing her lips against his and breathing back oxygen back into his lungs.
Removing her lips from his, she returns to pumping his chest again to remove the water and then once more pressing her lips against his to give him air.
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The taste of salty sea water fills his throat as he finally coughs, coughing out the water that filled his lungs. His ear finally registering different sensations around him—the familiar feeling of sand against his skin, the sound of the ocean waves hitting the shore.
He breathes heavily, trying to catch his breath as he opens his eyes to see.
A very gorgeous woman in front of him.
That surprises him, causing him to jolt upwards.
Accidentally headbutting her in the process.
“Ow!”
“Ouch!”
Both of them yelled in pain, their foreheads aching from the impact.
“Is that how angels treat their saviors?” the girl asked, eyebrows furrowed as she glared at him slightly. Her hand rubbing the painful area on her forehead.
Lucifer finally got a good look at her, she's beautiful. Like an out of this world beautiful.
His eyes landed on the gills and light blue scales on her neck, his eyes widened as he finally remembers why he drowned.
His eyes moved downwards to her body to see the large and majestic beautiful light blue and dark blue ombre mermaid tail on her body.
Though, heat filled his cheeks as he realized the girl was naked.
Avoiding her gaze, hand on his collar as it suddenly felt tight than usual.
“Sorry and thank you for saving me.” he says shyly and the girl just raised an eyebrow. Finding the angel cute, especially when she knows he got shy when he realizes she's topless.
“It is no problem, though, make sure not to drown yourself while flying.” she says with a deadpan making Lucifer cover his face with his hand in embarrassment.
“Sorry, you just caught me off guard that's all. Normally, I'm not that careless.” he explained shyly, [y/n] raising an eyebrow at him.
“So it's my fault you almost drowned then?” she asked with a small glare, Lucifer began to panic and [y/n] laughs softly.
“I am just teasing you.” she says with a smile, her laugh reminding him of the soft bells that often ring in heaven that were pleasant to listen to.
Lucifer's tensed shoulders relaxed as he calmed down.
“I am really sorry for being reckless.” he apologizes sincerely and the mermaid smiled softly at him.
“No worries, though, I have a favor to ask you.” she says and Lucifer raised an eyebrow, “What is it?”
“May I know the name of the angel I just saved?” she asked him, giving him a close eyed smile.
He blushed slightly and smiled, “Lucifer, Lucifer Morningstar.” he introduced himself.
“Lucifer Morningstar, what a beautiful name for someone as beautiful as you.” She says with a smile, the compliment making Lucifer's cheeks heat up more. How befitting for him, Morningstar. The star you can see during earliest dawn.
“Nice to meet you Lucifer, my name is [y/n], [y/n] Soleil.” she introduces herself.
Soleil, that means sun. How fitting for someone like her, she looks like she shines the brightest like the sun.
“Nice to meet you, [y/n].” he says, gently holding her hand and placing a kiss on her knuckle.
[y/n]'s cheeks heat up slightly. Heart beating erratically.
Both of their hearts are thumping so loudly against their ribcages.
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They spent most of the day by the sandy shore, [y/n] keeping him company as he dried himself.
They have gotten to know each other, having a similar mindset and interests. Made them bond.
The sun was finally setting on the horizon, the shades of orange, pink, blue, yellow, and red adorned the ocean as the sun finally kissed the sea.
Lucifer has finally dried himself up, his wings now lightweight now that it's dry.
The day has finally come to an end. Standing up from where he was sitting.
Both of them know that they finally need to say their goodbyes.
“I... I need to go now...” Lucifer whispers hesitantly and [y/n] smiled, lacing her hand with his to give it an assuring squeeze.
“I know, it has been truly fun spending the day with you. If you want to hang out again, I'm just swimming around these areas. So you know where to find me.” she says with a wink at him making him smile.
“I'll keep that in mind, I'll see you around [y/n]. Farewell.” he says sadly, spreading his wings and finally took off. He looks back down to see her returning to the water.
Her tail disappearing back into the deep depths.
Her head popping back out into the surface, he could see her waving at him and he waved back.
Both of them left at the same time. Maybe they'll see each other soon.
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TAGLIST:
@adaizel @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @thedarkkitten @selvyyr @froggybich @brithedemonspawn @kottenox @totallymitya @many-fandoms-lover @dou-dou @mezzyb0nb0n @n1chxyaaenthusiast @cherry-4200 @koirb @galaxyj3lly @crystalplays28 @luleck @scootinonyourmom @rory-cakes @mixplara @crescent-z @bitchyzombienacho @kalisha2004 @altervex
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squirmhoney · 2 months
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A SUDDEN FEELING | NAOYA ZEN'IN
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Please read all warnings carefully, my fics cover dark topic matters, that may be upsetting to certain readers. Read at your own discretion. Warnings: Dark. Arranged/Forced marriage. Non con Dub con. Abusive relationship. Forced pregnancy Spanking. Loss of virginity. Violence against reader. Misogynistic views. Degrading views. Submissive reader. 18+ A/N: Part 3 is here. Naoya is actually awful at the end here so sorry for that.
AS ALWAYS MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! MASTER LIST HERE
-
You and Naoya had been married for a few weeks and he was starting to become concerned with how he hadn’t tired of you. 
Maybe it was due to the fact there was still some defiance in you that he was still in the process of ringing out.
But wasn’t that a good thing, not being tired of you yet? You were his wife after all, this wasn’t just a temporary situation. 
Those thoughts seemed to drown out with your lips caressing every inch of his skin, bringing his attention back to you. 
“I’ll be gone for a few days,” he told you, fingers tangling in your hair as he scratched your scalp. “You going to miss me?” 
Naoya felt how your body tensed on top of him, clearly struggling to think of what to say. But with each second you hesitated to talk, Naoya only grew more impatient. Until his hand was gripping at your hair, yanking your face towards his. 
“The answer is yes,” Naoya stated, with an unamused tone. “It’s that simple.” 
You winced when he tugged on your hair once more before letting you go. 
“Turn around.” 
Your body went rigid with fear as the words reached your ear, eyes widening as you looked up at him. 
“You know exactly what I mean,” his voice was stern as he motioned with his finger for you to swivel around. 
Naoya couldn’t help the way his cock hardened in his boxers at the way you quivered, your nervous energy vibrating off of you. But like the perfect submissive wife you turned away from him, sticking your ass in the air for him to see. 
The residue from earlier was stuck to your thighs making for the prettiest sight as Naoya positioned himself behind you. 
“Pretty messy cunt,” he chuckled, fingers shoving the fluids back into your hole. 
You hissed, teeth digging into your lips as you tried to hide your sweet sounds from him. 
“I might miss this,” he hummed, curling his fingers inside of you before sliding them in even deeper. He had you clenching around him, a sharp moan slipping from your tongue that had his cock twitching. “It looks like she’s going to miss me more.” 
“Please,” you whimpered, twisting your head back to look at him. 
“What’s that sweetheart?” He titled his head, voice teasing. “I didn’t quite hear you.” 
Your lips parted, eyes glassy as you stared up at him. It was on the tip of your tongue, he could see it. “Please-“ 
But just when he thought he was about to hear it, his phone rang, signalling it was time for him to leave. 
He groaned as he slipped his fingers out of your tight hole, giving your ass a slap before climbing off the bed. 
“Naoya,” you whined, thighs rubbing together. 
But he was already getting dressed, rolling his eyes at your desperation. 
Your eyes were looking at him expectantly, clearly not sure what to do. 
He almost felt bad, leaving you here alone even if he didn’t want to admit it. 
“Come give your husband a proper goodbye.” 
He motioned with his fingers and you followed, crawling over to him. 
You were still learning but it seemed you were starting to learn well, pressing a delicate kiss to the edge of his lips. One he was quick to deepen as he yanked you closer by the back of your neck, bruising your lips with his. 
“Good girl,” he breathed into your lips, breaking away from you. “Are you going to miss me?” 
You nodded, clearly lying to him. 
But it was a start.  
 -
His time in Kyoto had been dragging and he was only a few hours into it.
He shouldn’t have come here himself, isn’t that why he had hired all those idiots? 
“Tea?” 
Naoya’s eyes lifted up at the feminine voice with a deep scowl. 
If the girl noticed his mood, she didn’t show it. Instead she continued to smile at him, pouring the tea for him. 
A month ago Naoya would have found her smile flattering, even entertained her for a while when her husband wasn’t around. Then tossed her to the side as soon as he was done. 
But he only waved her off with a hand, before his attention dropped back down to his phone. 
His finger had been itching over the call button for minutes, mind going back and forth to whether he should press call. 
Every time a woman walked past him giving him a suggestive glance, it made his skin crawl. These women disgusted him, sitting next to their husbands while their eyes trailed all over him. A woman shouldn’t be flaunting themselves off like that, it wasn’t right. 
He had never seen you once do that, throwing yourself at any man that walked by. It wasn’t in your nature to act in such a way. You had been loyal to your fiance Haru even when Naoya had tested the waters at your family home. 
Naoya was sure you’d be loyal to him. 
There was still some more defiance in you that needed to be tamed. But those things didn’t just change overnight, Naoya knew that. He had patience, especially when it came to things that mattered. 
A perfect wife was definitely something of significant importance in his life. 
The thought had his jaw clenching and the image of you on your hands and knees this morning suddenly had him needing to readjust himself in his pants. 
You weren’t supposed to be on his mind right now, not while he was working, but every single thing in the room he had been in brought him back to you. 
This just wasn’t right. Not for him anyway. 
-
When Naoya told you he’d be out of town for four days, you were glad. 
You were exhausted from being spread out in that bed, fucked into some twisted fantasy that you didn’t even know existed. It was like you were unable to think when Naoya touched your skin. He completely debilitated all your senses, to the point where all you felt, tasted, smelt, heard and seen was him. 
Overwhelming was an understatement. 
You had completely lost any meaning of control over your own body. 
The first few hours of him being gone your mind screamed at you and the thoughts became too much that you busied yourself with anything to shut them out. 
When your parents ended up coming round, you were cleaning. Something that you were sure you didn’t need to do, especially with all the people that Naoya paid around the house. But there you were in front of the sink, washing up dishes you hadn’t even used. 
Your mother had been thrilled to see you in such a state, impressed that all her efforts in raising you hadn’t been for nothing. 
It was all your parents seemed to chatter about as they sat across from you in the living room. In their eyes you were finally their dutiful daughter they always wanted and better yet you were married to the head of the Zen’in Clan. 
Relief filled you when one of Naoya’s men entered the room, bowing his head at you before handing you his phone. 
“Hello,” you said, bringing the phone up to your ear. 
“Wife.” 
You shuddered at the sound of his voice, your whole body suddenly waking up. 
You excused yourself to your parents, arms crossing over your chest as you tried to cover up the way your nipples had pebbled underneath your clothes. 
“Husband,” you greeted back. 
“Are you with someone?” He questioned, clearly hearing the chatter of your parents as you left the room. 
“My parents made a surprise visit,” you told him, sighing when you finally left the room. 
“You sound stressed.” 
“Honestly, I was hoping to have some time to relax.” 
“This morning not relaxing enough for you?” 
That wasn’t relaxing, you wanted to retort but you knew when to bite your tongue. “A different kind of relax.” 
He hummed and you couldn’t tell if he was unimpressed or didn’t know what to say. 
“Why did you call me?” 
“I can’t call to checkin on my wife?” 
That’s not what you meant and you were sure that he knew it. 
It had been ten hours since you’d waved him off this morning, to see him call so soon had been surprising. To have him call at all had been a complete shock to you. 
In all honesty you had been picturing him tied up with other women, finally being freed of the restraints as a husband. You weren’t even sure how the thought of it made you feel when only hours ago he had been laying underneath you. 
“I’m sorry. I just didn’t expect you to call,” you confessed. 
“Well you shouldn’t.” 
The phone beeped after that and when you looked at it, you realised he had ended the call. 
Your stomach dropped at the thought that you might have upset him, that being honest hadn’t been the right thing to say. 
But upon returning to your parents you made it the last of your concerns, coming back into the room with a warm smile. 
There wasn’t anything you could do about it now anyway so you’d have to just await the consequences. 
-
Naoya was back the next night. 
He couldn’t wait any longer. 
He had basically forced everything he needed to do  over the three days into a one day schedule.
All the tasks had been easy, simple decisions that needed to be made. Most of the men he had to deal with had been silently raged at having to squeeze everything in such a tight frame. But he couldn’t care less. 
He needed to get out of there. 
Husband duties, he had told them. 
They couldn’t argue that he was newly wed after all. 
And he definitely needed to get back to you, he was extremely hard just hearing your unappreciative voice on the phone. 
Not relaxed?
All you had to do was bury your pretty face into his pillows as he spread your legs, before fucking you into oblivion. 
You should have been telling him how much you missed him over the phone, not questioning him on his reason for calling. 
He’d teach you. 
But then your smell filled his nostrils as soon as he stepped through the doors, a sweet jasmine, and all he could think about was how he needed to be inside of you. 
He was stripping himself as he stalked up the stairs, hamaka being strewn on the floor. By the time he stepped inside the room, he was completely bare, stroking his cock at the mere thought of you. 
The thought of you wasn’t anything to compare to the real thing in front of him. For a moment he finds himself unable to stop himself from just standing and staring at your form on his bed. Such an obedient thing wrapped up in his sheets, oblivious to him and the rest of the world as he crept in beside you. 
You didn’t seem to stir as the bed dipped under the weight. Nor when he yanked the duvet from your body, revealing you wearing one of his tees. 
Your eyes only seemed to open when he was spreading your legs, situating himself perfectly between your thighs. 
“Naoya,” you breathed, eyes half lidded trying to look at him in the dark. When your eyes couldn’t find him, your hand reached out instead, cupping the side of his face. 
He was glad for the darkness then because the gentle touch from your hand had his face softening. 
“You’re back?” 
You clearly wanted to ask more questions but Naoya didn’t want to hear them and was quick to silence you with his lips being shoved against yours. 
It was a greedy kiss, his tongue and teeth urgently seeking your mouth for entrance and once he had it, he couldn’t help but sink his tongue in, practically sucking the air out of you all in a kiss. 
You were gasping for air when he finally released you, not even fully awake yet. But with the feel of him prodding at your entrance, he could sense you were sobering up, eyes widening as he pushed himself all the way in. 
“Naoya,” you winced, nails clawing at his shoulders. 
“You can take it,” he hissed, roughly thrusting himself in your walls. “You’re fine.” 
But he was far from fine. 
His eyebrows furrowed as your walls sucked him in, clinging to him with need. He couldn’t help himself as he wrapped his hand around your throat, trying to ground himself. It shouldn’t be feeling this good, not for him, but suddenly he realised he had found himself addicted to the thing between your thighs. 
Scared you’d see the way his face contorted as your eyes adjusted to the darkness, his face dipped into the crook of your neck. There he distracted himself by sucking and nipping at the skin of your neck, marking you up. Or he at least tried.
He hadn’t even realised he’d been panting in your ear, groaning your name on repeat as he rutted his hips against yours. It was only when he heard your voice did he finally break out of the trance you had locked him in. 
“I missed you,” you croaked out, biting your bottom lip at a harsh thrust. 
Naoya narrowed his eyes at the sight of you, body tensing at the sudden confession. His hand trailed upwards from your throat, resting against the side of your face almost caressing it. Until he grabbed at your jaw, digging his fingers into your cheek. 
“Don’t-” he grunted, fingers bruising the skin. “Just don’t.” 
Your lips parted at this, wanting to say something but terrified with the sudden threat looming over you. Instead you swallowed it down, unable to stop yourself from tensing underneath him as he continued to curve his hips into you. 
You were confused, pouting up at him with tears spilling out of your eyes. You wanted to plead with him to be gentler with you but you were too busy choking on your moans to say anything. You tried to push him away but his hands were quick to snatch your wrists, pinning them down. 
The way he was fucking you, felt almost like a punishment, as if he was mad at you for something you had done. But the only thing that came to mind had been the phone call and you didn’t believe it truly warranted this sort of treatment. 
But it didn’t matter how you felt in this relationship and maybe in your sleepy haze you had forgotten that but Naoya was there to remind you. 
As if to make it clear, Naoya threw your legs over your shoulder, enabling him to hit deeper inside you and when you whimpered at him that it hurt, he simply ignored you. 
In all the weeks you had been married, Naoya never made you feel this way. While he had been constantly taking you without your consent, always pushing your limits to break you, he had never completely used you like this. It was as if all that mattered was him satisfying his needs and he couldn’t care less if you were in pain from it all, wincing as your body tried to accept the new angle. 
You felt him in your stomach and even though your body was slowly accepting his intrusion, your mind couldn’t accept it. You hated as your body betrayed you, walls becoming slick and stretching out to accommodate him. 
It was almost like second nature at this point and the sudden thought that this was the rest of your life had you crying harder. 
But Naoya didn’t seem to care, his head back into the crook of your neck again, erratically breathing into your skin.  His fingers had moved down, digging into the skin of your thigh as he held them down. 
You knew he was close, hips slapping against yours faster. With the pace your cunt clenched around him, toes curling at the sensation. The feel of you around him had Naoya spilling into your walls, making sure to fuck every single drip out as he slowed his movements. Even though you had been teetering closer to the edge once Naoya pulled out of your walls, the feeling was ripped away and you were glad… 
Because seconds later, once Naoya had rolled off of you, you were throwing yourself into the toilet, unable to stop the bile coming out of your mouth. 
The realisation of how cruel Naoya could be was finally starting to sink in and you didn’t even think this was the lowest he could go. All the thoughts of the things he could do to you, had you stomach clenching with pure dread. But it was the feel of his cum dripping down your legs that had you vomiting again. 
It wasn’t until you heard his voice again did you force yourself to calm down, terrified with the thought of going through that all again.
“Clean yourself up before you get back into bed,” he hissed, his shadow from the doorway looming over you. “And stop that fucking crying or I’ll give you something to cry about.” Taglist: @xxsweetnlowxx @slashmedaddy (let me know if you wanted to be added)
345 notes · View notes
boxofbonesfic · 3 months
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Title: Tonality [5]
Pairing: Prince!Geralt x Princess!Reader
previous Chapter
Summary: “The white wolf wants you. He’ll have no other.” As you grieve the loss of your father, your mother marries the king. Whilst you struggle to acclimate to your new life, you begin to suspect the interest your new brother has in you is less than familial.
Warnings: 18+ Only, Dark Fantasy, Darkfic, Step-cest, Medieval/GoT inspired AU, Genre Typical Violence, Mild Descriptions of Violence, (Future)Smut, Dubcon/Noncon, Manipulation, Gaslighting, Obsessive Behavior, Possessive Behavior, MINORS DNI!!
A/N: OMG I’M SO SORRY. this chapter was so hard to write and it kept getting away from me, because i really wanted to pivot hard into some of the main plot points. i really hope you enjoy it, please drop me a comment and let me know even if you didn’t.
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“Come.” Your mother’s voice is firm. Her mourning veil just barely outlines the shape of her face, as her lips move beneath the fabric. It billows behind her as she walks down the darkened line of empty pews toward the front of the little chapel, a flickering candle held steady in her gloved hand. 
Your father is to be buried tomorrow. 
You know his grave is already dug—a fresh square cut out of the dark earth next to his father’s. The thought of him alone in the dirt is enough to make your throat tighten, though no tears come. You have cried them all already; a veritable ocean. Even so, your dry eyes ache for lack of them.
“W-wait, mother, I—” You do not want to see it, the vacant thing your father’s soul has left behind. At the end, you could barely recognize him in the fragile body decaying in his sick bed. You catch at her sleeve with numb fingers, lowering your head in shame. “I do not want to see—” Her icy fingers wrap around yours, long and thin, her jagged nails digging into your skin. 
“We must each place a stitch upon the shroud.” You wince as she presses the long needle into your stiff hands. “It is our duty.” Only when you accept it does she release you, and for a moment, you see her lips quirk cruelly beneath the veil. You tremble as your mother steps aside, your breath catching as you see the shape of the body on the altar. 
Just behind her is your father, his shroud dotted with the shapes of dead flowers and bare trees. It does little to quell the horror you feel to behold him, though, his thin outline visible through the shroud, limbs folded and delicate like a baby bird.  You remember what he looked like two nights prior, his rheumy eyes dull and deep set into his skull, skin thin and sallow. He looks small now, too, beneath his shroud, and you find it hard to believe this withered corpse had once been a great mountain of a man. A good man, a strong man, now reduced to the barest scraps of skin and bone. 
“Stitch.” Her command fills every inch of space, in the chapel and in your head. And though you want nothing more than to close your eyes and be gone from this place, your body will not obey. You raise the needle. 
“Please, mother—”
“Stitch.” Her voice is like iron nails in your skull. Blood drips from your nose, and you taste the warm copper of it on your lips. You pinch a corner of thin fabric between your fingers, and push in the needle, pulling it through until the knot at the end of the thread catches. You lower your hand to the shroud as you sew another stitch, and as you do so, your fingers brush your father’s sunken cheek, and you retch. 
You cannot stop—
She will not let you. 
You look down at your father’s body with tears in your wide eyes, and as you do, a scream builds in your throat. You pinch his lips together between your forefinger and thumb. Delicately; like you would the hem of your gown for a curtsey— and sew another stitch through the meat of them. He is beginning to rot, now, you can smell it over the cloying scent of incense.
“Mother stop!” Your scream is swallowed by the heavy darkness of the empty chapel. Your mother sighs, her breath curling against your ear. 
“How else can we make sure the dead don’t speak?” She threads her fingers through yours as she pulls your hand toward his sunken eyelids. You pinch the stiff flesh between your fingers, holding it taut for the needle. 
“Now close his eyes.”
You wake with a start, sitting up in bed as you cover your mouth with one hand, fingers searching for the thick black funeral thread—but of course, you find none. The dream clings to the edges of your vision like spider silk, the taste of decaying things still heavy on the panicked air you draw in. A ra sob wrenches its way out of your throat as you press the heels of your palms against your closed eyes. 
Perhaps I am mad, after all.
Ain’t supposed t’see the dead ones. Maybe Madge’s old superstitions had borne fruit in your own mind. You recall the symbol she made with one hand, finger on thumb, finger on thumb, before spitting down into the dirt as you left your father’s burial. She’d shaken her head then, some the silver-gray locs piled on top of her head coming loose. Ain’t supposed t’see them. They stay when you see, them, Lady. 
They stay.
“No!” You throw the blankets off of yourself, lurching out of bed and stumbling towards the wash-bowl on the dresser. The thought of that day fills you with the same cold dread you have come to know too well. You’ve little choice in your dreams; the specter of his burial hanging over you like overripe fruit. But here, in waking, in the chill autumn daylight, you have the power to turn your thoughts to other things. 
At least, you try to. 
The water is shockingly cold, but you are grateful for it, staring down into the porcelain bowl. A knock at the door startles you, and you jump.
“W-who is it?”
“Kassandra, Majesty. Might I come in?” 
“Yes,” you sigh. “You may.” You pat worriedly at your swollen eyelids, and you frown at your reflection as the door swings open. Your mother has an effortless sort of beauty, one that needs neither rouge nor powders to enhance—a trait you certainly do not share. Your disturbing, sleepless night is written plainly on your face. 
Kassandra sets the tray down in the sitting area, before turning to you with a worried expression. 
“Her Majesty hopes you are well,” she says, nervously tucking a strand of blonde hair behind her ear with dainty fingers. “As you were not at break-fast this morning.” 
“I was… I did not sleep well.” You shake your head. “I trust my mother made her displeasure quite clear.” She stifles a laugh. “She’s good at that.”
“She did.” Kassandra gestures to the tray, porridge and an assortment continental fruit cut into bite size pieces. “You should eat, Lady. While it’s hot.” You pick uninterestedly at the porridge until it is mostly gone, along with the tart green grapes and sweet winter melon. At the very least you do feel better for it, or at least, more present—more grounded in this world, not the dream one. 
You clear up the remains of your breakfast, piling the dishes neatly back onto the tray. In the armoire, you note that more Rivian style gowns have been hung, your light Redanian dresses folded neatly and shunted off to the shelves on the side. Your mother’s thin excuse makes you wrinkle your nose in distaste as you finger one of the heavy sleeves. “Much too light for these Rivian winters, Dear,” she’d said, patting the neatly folded dresses. 
“You won’t need them.”
The truth remains unspoken, but you know it still—she does not want you to need them. You pull a heavy crimson dress from its place and begin to undo the lacing. Kassandra clucks her tongue at you. 
“Highness, please. Allow me at least one task.” You roll your eyes in response.
“I believe you are capable of more than dressing me—and that I am more than capable of dressing myself,” you reply. You change into a fresh shift before shrugging into the dress. You twist around to reach for the lacings, but Kassandra shoos your hands away to do them herself. 
“You’re doing them wrong.” She chides you gently. “Up for lift, down for compression, my Lady.” Kassandra nods at you in the mirror and then positions your body so that if you crane your neck just a little, you can see her hands as she easily threads the thick ribbon through the eyelets. “Opposing sides. Like this.” 
You purse your lips. “We don’t wear these dreadful things in Redania,” you mutter, your breath hitching as the corset tightens. She laughs before stepping away, brushing loose lint from the folds of the heavy fabric. 
“Even so, our fashion does suit you.”  You can tell she wants to say something else, the way her mouth opens and then closes, her lips pressing into a thin line. 
“You’ve another correction?” You ask, gesturing at yourself with a chuckle, but she shakes her head. She glances at the door, as though reassuring herself that it was still shut.
“No, no, I—I do not mean to be insolent, Highness,” Kassandra begins, “but I do not think I have ever heard you say you have rested well within these walls.” Your smile turns brittle and tired. 
“No. I have not. And your concern is not insolence. I am grateful for it.”
“Healer Janna—her draughts have not availed you?” You hesitate, wondering if you should describe the shape of your demon, give it form and substance outside of your mind. You shake your head, steepling your fingers together to stop them from trembling. 
“It seems the dreams that plague me require more than nightroot and dried frogspawn to satisfy them.” I see my father. I see him dead a thousand ways. 
“Healer Janna’s draughts for sleep and pain are as close to magic as they’ll allow in the White Keep, you know that.” Bastard’s magic. You do. You think of Father Rame’s disgusted expression. He does not seem the type to suffer a witch to live. “But I have… there is another. A woman—they call her The Dock Hag.” Her voice is a low whisper, as if she fears the good Father ears will ring with her heresy, even here. 
“And she can… she can rid me of these dreams?” The prospect is a tantalizing one. “You know her? You have visited this woman?”
“I—yes. I met her. Once.” Her smile is sad. “When I was small, and the older Ladies had need of her.” Kassandra’s words are aged, heavy with the weight of years that both do and do not belong to her in equal measure. “And then again, for the memories.” 
“She…” You cannot bring yourself to say it. Kassandra nods, the smile going brittle and crumbling from her face.
“Not many Lords will claim their bastards, Highness, if you will forgive my candor.”
In your mind’s eye you see a small Kassandra, attending her own mother, most likely, or perhaps even an older sister or cousin who… had need of this woman. The witch who had taken their babies—
And then burnt their dreams out. 
“What did it cost?”
“Nothing special. Gold.” You let out a relieved sigh at her words. That, at least, is an easy enough problem to solve. Kassandra cuts her eyes at you. “Are you going to go? To see her?”
Perhaps Madge was a superstitious old northern goat—But maybe she was right too: the living are not meant to mingle with the dead. Perhaps it is some guilt that drives your father’s image to the forefront of your mind, some secret thing that the specter of his death clings to—you cannot know. 
But the witch might. 
The east stair is narrow, cut roughly out of the stone as if it were an afterthought. The iron railing is pitted and mottled from the salt in the air, and it rattles dangerously as you grip it. The stairs themselves are uneven, still slick from the inconsistent rain that had stopped only hours before. Every step feels as though you are lurching forward, being pulled down the long winding stair to the paving below. 
There are more ways to enter and exit this keep than the main gate, Majesty. 
The east stair wound around the back of the White Keep like a snake, the steps hidden in the stone like a secret. As you take another cautious step down, your foot slips and you gasp, the railing shaking as you cling to it. You steady yourself, locking your trembling knees tightly as you recite Kassandra’s instructions. 
You will take the east stair down from the parapets over the chapel. Through the gap in the wall is the city. Go straight to the docks, ask for the Hag.” She had not wanted to stay behind, though you had convinced her with a stern look and an order to send away any who came knocking at your door till you returned. You would need her to provide a believable excuse in the event that anyone came looking—and an empty room would be cause for alarm, especially with you… “ill.”
Below you, the city glitters with light even as the dark begins to deepen. Beyond it, the sun sinks into the sea, lingering on the horizon before disappearing completely. Like Kassandra had said, near the foot of the stairs—twenty feet back, and behind a column, but near enough—is the gap in the wall. It is overgrown thick with dying ivy, the orange leaves already turning spotty brown at the edges. 
Crushed leaves litter the hood and shoulders of your cloak as you start to squeeze inside, the stone catching at your clothes. You push your way through the narrow passage, panic coiling in your gut at the feel of the unyielding pressure at your chest and back. Your fingers meet open air at the next push, and you practically drag yourself out into the streetlight, fingers digging into the stone. 
The misty street that greets you is practically empty, and what few people there are do not seem to have noticed that you have joined them from nowhere on the wet cobbled street. Hurriedly, you brush dirt and discarded leaves from your cloak before you adjust your hood, angling it down over your eyes. You keep your head down, your hands clenched into trembling, nervous fists. Every heavy step you take away from the keep sets the warning bells in your skull to ringing, as gooseflesh rises on your arms. 
It isn’t too late to go back. It isn’t. Not too late to turn around, slip back between the ivy covered crack in the east wall and seek your mother’s counsel once more—and go to sleep, knowing that you will see beyond the veil again. 
The thought spurs you onward. 
The streets are even more unfamiliar in the growing dark, and as you watch the lanterns flare to life to chase it away, you swallow nervously. There is so much to see, here—too much. As you approach the city centre the market is still bustling with activity, the shops open and windows bright.
You spare yourself a few moments to watch the people. A woman buys bread, her son playing in her skirts, a man pulls shut the door of the tavern across the way, a blacksmith’s hammer falls rhythmically like a drum, the chapel’s bell rings for evening prayer—there is so much here, the sheer amount of everything almost dizzies you. A woman bumps your shoulder as she passes by, and it stirs you out of your reverie. By the time she turns to apologize, you are already gone, hurrying off through the square. 
The air turns salt with brine the closer you get, and you lick your dry lips, tasting it. The night had been thick with sounds in the city center, but the further you travel from it, the more quiet the streets become. It is eerie, the stark difference between these silent, empty streets and the lively square only moments ago. 
The last time you had been to the docks was when you’d stepped off of the ship, in the scant few days before your mother’s wedding. Now, the narrow streets look different, unrecognizable from the snatches you remember through the carriage windows. You look in one direction, and then another, frowning.
“You’re lost, Sweet.” There is no question in the old woman’s voice. You see her then, standing beneath the street lantern in a pool of pale light.
“I—I am looking for—”
“Me, Sweet. You’re looking for me.” The shadows fall away from her face without her moving, like the light has only just decided to accept her. The Witch’s white hair is wild about her face. And her face… she is a severe beauty, like wind whipped ocean waves. The years define her jaw, sloping in gentle strokes down around her eyes, and her ears slope upward into gentle points. She is older than your mother, though you know this not by sight but because you simply… know it. An uncanny feeling that has grown in the back of your mind that she is like you, but… un-like you, too. 
She is an elf. 
It is not just the ears, but the air about her, an ethereal quality that surrounds her as thickly as the shawl about her shoulders. It is in the delicate set of her jaw, perhaps, or the distinct lack of canine teeth in her amused grin. You take a halting step forward, and then stop, wary.
“You are the W—you can help me?” The Witch wraps her shawl tighter about her shoulders, and fixes you with a hawkish look. 
“Don’t know that yet.” She purses her lips. “Shall we do this in the street? Or will you oblige me my own roof?” You nod hurriedly, and follow her as she turns quickly on her heel down the street. You are close enough to the docks to hear the water as she approaches a small house, pushing open the door. You follow her inside, halting briefly at the doorway. There is dried heather inside, hanging in a braided bushel on the arch. She watches you step inside, her dark eyes narrowed. 
“Shut the door behind you,” she snaps, flicking the edge of her shawl over her shoulder. “Never met a Princess raised in a bloody barn.” You brush aside the bushels of dried herbs hanging from the low ceiling as you make your way inside. 
The Witch rounds the other side of the table, where you see the evidence of her unfinished work. A grindstone, laying on its side, with half-ground herbs lying in the bowl. 
“How did you know?” You ask as she picks it back up, the sound of stone on stone filling the room as she resumes. “That I was looking… for you.” 
“I always know,” she replies, somewhat exasperated. “Like a rabbit knows a fox.” Her sharp eyes find yours once more. “What ails you, sweet Princess?” There is mockery in her tone, though you dare not take umbrage at its presence. “A suitor you wish to beguile? A fair maiden you wish to remove from his eye?” Her gaze drops down, and then darts back up again. 
“Or perhaps an unseen consequence?” 
Your throat tightens. 
“No, I—my dreams.” You say. “I dream the most terrible things, and I—I want you to take them away.” 
The stone stops. 
“Come here, child. Into the light.” The Witch holds out her hand, beckoning you forward. “And take down that stupid hood, you’re not hiding from anyone here.” She clucks her tongue at you as you approach, fingering the edge of your hood reluctantly. She already knows who you are—though you are not quite sure how she knows. With one hand, she reaches for your face. You do not flinch away from her—you do not fear her, though perhaps if you were smarter, you suppose you would. Her touch is gentle as she tilts your chin up, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. 
The fire crackles in the hearth, louder for the silence. 
“And what do you dream?”
“I see…” You swallow. “I see dead things.” She peers into your eyes, her pupils wide. “I see my father.” You tremble as she steps away, your mouth suddenly dry. “These dreams, these-these nightmares, you can stop them, can you not? You can—”
“I’ll not hear more about what I can and cannot do from the maid in the high castle,” she snaps. “And they are not dreams, though you walk through them in yours.” With her other hand,  she reaches beneath her collar, producing a thin leather cord. There are all manner of things tied to it—feathers, beads, and small, clean animal skills that shine dimly in the firelight. There is a long black needle there, too, hanging by its’ eye. 
“There is a spirit tethered to you.” She turns your hand over, stroking her fingers over the lines in your palm.  She snaps her fingers, motioning for you to give her your other hand. “By great sorrow—” The Witch squints, bringing your hands closer to her face. “Or rage.” She drops your left hand, holding onto your right. “I can no more remove it than I could your shadow.” 
“Tethered?” You repeat. “These are—they are dreams, they are not real—” You sputter in protest, but the Witch merely looks at you, orange firelight dancing in her dark eyes. 
“If they are only dreams, why do you fear them so?” You cannot answer. “They are messages. You should be grateful for them, there are few feats quite as great as bridging the divide between us and those who have gone before, Little Queen. Your father cannot watch over you forever.” 
“I am a Princess.” The Witch smiles. 
“Is that right?” She grasps your hand, gripping your index finger hard and watching as the tip reddens. You flinch as she pinches the needle between two thin fingers. “Come now, Sweet. Mustn’t be afeared of a little pain.” She jabs it into the meat of your finger, and you yelp, tugging uselessly at your hand, but her grip is iron. 
“Ouch!” With a twist of her hand she swipes the fat drop of blood from your fingertip and flicks it into the fireplace. It does not fizzle out, but instead lands on the topmost log, bubbling until it turns black. It smells like ozone—not copper. You do not know why, but you tremble a the sight of it. You have come here to have something taken away, but as you watch your blood crack and burn, you feel as if perhaps something is being given instead. 
“What does this mean?” You turn to her. The Witch rubs your blood between her fingers, sniffing the residue for a moment before wiping them clean on a rag. She does not answer you right away, staring thoughtfully at the thin line of black smoke curling from the fireplace. 
“Please, I—”
“It means, Princess, that we are kin, you and I.” She tilts your chin back as you stare at her, wide eyed. She runs the tips of her fingers over the narrow curve of your left ear—not pointed, not like hers, but… You push her away before you can stop yourself, clutching at your chest with your other hand as if to calm your racing heart. 
“This cannot be true, it—it cannot!” 
“Less than half,” she continues as if your sputtered refusal had never been spoken at all. “Less elf blood in you than I could hold in my hand, but aye, kin we are, still.” The Witch looks you up and down, and this time, there is pity in her gaze. “I cannot take your dreams.” Cold spreads through your trembling limbs. “You must release them yourself.” 
“Release them? How?” She cups your face, and the movement of her thumb over the swell of your cheek is almost affectionate, though the words she speaks next send a cold chill down your spine. 
“No fear, Little Princess. No fear.” For a moment, you swear her eyes go gold, and Geralt’s voice echoes again in the space between you. Before the Witch can say more, you quickly dig the gold out of your pocket, tossing the coins down onto the table as you flee. You do not register her cries to stop, to wait as you barrel through the door, throwing it shut behind you. 
It is raining again, hard sheets of cold water pouring down from the dark, angry sky. You can hear the sea raging against the docks, water crashing in thunderous waves up against the harbor’s weathered stone. Your head is spinning, full to bursting. You are elf-kin—perhaps? Maybe?
Your mother had never seen fit to mention that minor detail—and for that matter, neither had your father. You tug your hood up roughly over your head and turn your face down, away from the cold rain pelting against your skin. Had he even known? 
Would he have even wanted to?
Perhaps I can just ask him myself.
The thought makes you shiver, wrapping your cloak tighter around your shoulders. I can no more remove it than I could your shadow. You do not know which is worse—having left your father behind alone in the dirt, or the restless specter of him living in your dreams. Your finger aches from the point of the dock witch’s iron needle, and you clutch your hand to your chest as you make your way back towards the White Keep. Above you, a white hot arc of lightning splits the sky, throwing up stark shadows against the row of dark houses. 
It is by that grace alone that you see the man. 
You stop short, your heart leaping into your throat. He stands in the shadows beneath the sagging eaves, his stony face surprised as your eyes meet. He steps forward with a heavy sigh, a gloved hand resting on the hilt of the sword at his hip. 
“Highness.” Your throat tightens, and you take a cautious step back as he comes into the meagre light offered by the street lantern above you. “Please don’t make this difficult.” His cloak is drawn over his chest, but you can see the shape of the armor underneath, jet black. 
Nilfgaardian.
 You turn—and run straight into a hard, armored chest.
“Good evening, Your Highness.” Duke Emhyr’s long fingers dig hard into your shoulders, hard enough to bruise. His black hair is slick with rain. He was waiting here… waiting for me. “I shall have to inform Lady Kassandra of your whereabouts,” he sneers. “She seems to think you are asleep in your bed.” You lift your heel and grind it hard into the top of his foot, and the Duke curses, his grip loosening. You pull away, but he manages to catch the edge of your cloak, pulling hard until you fall backwards. 
The impact knocks the wind out of you, leaving you gasping and dizzy, staring up at the dark sky. 
“We did not get to finish our little chat, in the garden.” He says, squatting down over you as you struggle up to your knees on the wet street. “I think we should do that now, Princess.” 
Your heart pounds heavily against your ribcage as you stagger to your feet. 
“No.” 
“It is not a request.” He motions to the guard behind you, and he grabs you as you struggle, wrenching your arms behind you. 
“Filthy witch,” he hisses, and you flinch. “You and your whore mother.” 
“Gavin, your manners.” He tuts mockingly. “I would be honored, Majesty, if you would accompany me for tea.” You stare at him in silence, the rain soaking through your cloak. “If you would, Ser Gavin.” He forces you forward, and you stumble. 
“It is late for tea, Lord Emhyr,” you snap, dragging your feet against the paving stones. “Perhaps a discussion with Her Majesty herself—” Ser Gavin grunts with irritation at your resistance and shoves you, hard. You stumble as the Duke makes an angry noise deep in his throat. 
“I’ve little stomach for lies.”  
A cold shiver winds its way up your back. You hear the threat though the words remain unspoken. The streets are deserted, and you cannot tell if it is the weather or the hour. Behind you,  clears his throat. 
“Here, my Lord.” 
The faded, splintering sign hanging above the door reads Madam’s Tea House, though by the riotous noise coming from inside, you suspect they serve a few things little stronger than tea. Ser Gavin places a rough hand on the back of your head, forcing it down as he steers you through the doorway. Your stomach drops as your eyes adjust to the dim lighting.
The air stinks of ale, sweaty skin and something more pungent and sour that you cannot identify. There are people everywhere, draped across tables, lounging on pillows and pinned against walls in various states of undress. Your throat goes dry, at the sight of the bare-breasted women sprawled over the tables, their dresses rucked up around their waists. A woman with white painted cheeks and cherry red lips steps quickly out of the way as you are shuffled through, her eyes lowered and lips pressed into a thin line. You understand their choice of venue now—
No one will even remember you were here— and no one will remember when you are not.
As if sensing your rising panic, Ser Gavin’s hand tightens on the scruff of your neck, and with the other hand, he grasps your shoulder. On the raised dais in the center of the dim room, a woman twists lithely, scarves gripped in each of her dainty hands. Gold rings dangle from her bared nipples, matching the one in her nose. Your eyes meet and for a single moment, for a single step, she falters.
The crowd at her feet turns on her in an instant, jeering and spitting. The same men who had watched her dance with silent awe now mock her openly, insults dripping from their lips along with stray drops of ale. 
“Let’s get a new girl up here. One who can remember her bloody steps!”  There is no end to the praises of men when one is perfect—nor an end to their venom when you are not. The truth of it is as plain as the room Duke Emhyr and Ser Gavin force you into. There is a bed with a bare, stained mattress upon its dilapidated frame, and a wooden chair stands between it and the weak fire in the hearth. 
“Sit.” Emhyr instructs you with a bored gesture, and when you do not  comply, Ser Gavin squeezes your shoulder hard until you gasp from the pain of it. You lower yourself reluctantly to the chair as the Duke watches, and you get the feeling that he enjoys it, watching you be forced to heel. If not my mother, then me. Through the silence, you can hear the muted noise of the brothel outside. As uncomfortable as it is for you, you hope it is doubly so for them. 
The Duke stares at you, his eyes narrowed. 
“You wouldn’t see it, not at first,” he says. The disgust drips from every syllable, like he is speaking of something unsavory. “The way you favor them.”
Your heart pounds even as you feign ignorance, schooling your features into shocked offense at his words. He cannot know that this is the second time you have heard them this evening, that you are already itching to get to a mirror to confirm these revelations for yourself, because you do not even know if they are true. The memory of black blood curdling in the hearth is enough to set the uncertainty in your lead filled stomach rolling. 
“I know not of what you speak, my Lord.” The words feel fragile, like they are made of glass. “There—there is still time to let this be nothing but an unpleasant misunderstanding—”
The duke stands in front of the hearth, his hand resting on the mantle. The curve of his back speaks to his weariness, and you wonder if he has been looking for you all night. 
“You and your whore mother have upset the order of things quite a bit, here. Whatever other things you may be, you are not unintelligent enough not to have seen so.” He turns, the fire reddening his cheeks and setting the whit es of his beady eyes ablaze. “Two seasons of talk and courtships undone in a month—and for a woman who is too old to bear a new heir.” 
“His Majesty has an heir,” you remind him. “Or have you forgotten? If you disagree with your king’s decision, you are more than welcome to challenge it before the court a second time, though Their Majesties might not be so prone to leniency given the circumstance.” His jaw tics at the reminder of his position—and yours—but the sly upturn at the corners of his mouth do not disappear. 
“So the Witch does inspire loyalty in you.” He squats in front of you. “Do you know what we do to witches, in the North?” He asks, fingering the dagger at his belt. “Father Wolf is the devourer of all things. Even savages.”
 “Ever since I stepped from boat to shore I have heard that word, and I cannot help but wonder,” the words pour through the gaps in your gritted teeth, and you hope he chokes on the broken glass of them—“if you have ever uttered them looking in a mirror.” 
He raises his hand, as if to backhand you across your face, and you duck down hunching your shoulders to prepare for the blow. It does not land, however, and when you look cautiously up at the duke, he is staring behind you, locked above your head. There is a fourth presence in the room now, one you feel pricking at the back of your neck. 
“No, no, continue.” The drawl that fills the empty room is both shocking and achingly familiar. “I would see the treason with my own eyes.” Geralt stands in the doorway, filling it to the brim with the width of his shoulders. Water drips from his sodden silver hair, though he makes no move to push it back from his face. His hand rests openly upon the sword hanging at his hip.
“That way it passes fewer lips on its way to the king.” 
Duke Emhyr’s eyes go wide, and then angry. 
“I protect the crown, and you call it treason,” slowly,—almost regretfully —the duke lowers his hand. “Can you not see? Can you not see how they twist—” Geralt turns his gaze to you, and somehow his golden eyes seem darker. Harder. 
He came for me.
Ser Gavin fingers the pommel of his sword nervously, playing at the thought of unsheathing it, but too craven to commit. Still, he stands between you and the prince, and does not move. The duke’s rambling of treason and bewitchery continues behind you, rising to a fever pitch as you approach the door. Briefly as you turn, you see him, his face red and lips flecked with frothy spittle as he flings a long, accusing finger towards you.
“They will poison this empire, it’s people! You cannot allow them to sit the throne, it is treason to do it knowingly, you must act!” The fire burns bright in his wide eyes, and you see reflected in them the same vicious zealotry that burned in Father Rame’s. “That which is rooted in rotten soil cannot grow! I will not stand idle while we are destroyed from within.”
In the spaces between his words you can see the calculation. He’s chosen death, you realize. You taste it in the air before he speaks, the power of his decision already shaping the world around it, like chaos—but not the kind they shunned. It tastes like the air inside the chapel; the still, thick air, perfumed so that the smell of his body would not leak further than a few feet beyond his corpse. 
“You know the truth of what I speak, Majesty, you must see that His Highness is not himself! He pants after the elf-bitch, like a man possessed! It is unnatural, you must—you must see it!”
Geralt’s mouth creases with anger. “I see your distrust in your King has bred treasonous discontent. I see your desire to rise above your station would have you slavering after my father’s throne like the dog you are.” He steps into the room then, and you watch as the Duke’s hand closes about the grip of the dagger strapped to his waist. “Your dedication to this fiction will cost you.” 
You had not been able to see Geralt’s other hand, positioned behind him, his arm taut as though he were dragging something heavy. He steps aside, and your heart leaps into your throat as you see why—
A dead Nilfgaardian soldier lies behind him, dark liquid pooling thickly underneath his armor. The duke sees it too, his body tensing. 
“If you will not serve your people, if your father will not protect them, what choice have you left me?” The duke murmurs, the words underscored by the quiet ring of steel as he unsheathes his blade. You jump up, knocking the chair over in your haste to get away from him. You trip over your skirts, stumbling forward as Ser Gavin grabs for you, his hand knotting in your cloak. 
“You will let her go.” Geralt delivers the instructions as truth—no ultimatums. 
“Oh, aye,” Emhyr, nods, forcing the words out through clenched teeth. “On that we agree.” You expect him to lunge for the prince, to hear the sharp clash of steel on steel, but you do not. Instead, his face fills your vision. “You may go wherever you wish, now, Lady.” 
You taste death on his words and in the air, and when he steps away, his hands are empty. There is a strange coldness in your belly, and slowly, your hand drifts up to investigate. The leather grip of the dagger is warm, but the steel is cold, so cold you can feel it all the way inside. It’s strange, the way it doesn’t hurt, the way the blood does not feel hot on your trembling hands but cold—
The death Emhyr had chosen was neither his own, nor Geralt’s—but yours. 
Dimly, you are aware of Geralt, of your body tucked tightly against his, the sound of steel on steel, the feel of cold rain on your face. Weakly, you lift a hand to your belly, your fingers slipping on the handle. Geralts hand closes over yours.
“You must leave it, Doe, you must. I know it hurts.” It doesn’t. You want to tell him, but you cannot find the will to move your lips. You feel your grip slacken on his cloak, your fingers releasing themselves without your permission as your vision tunnels. Geralt tells you not to close your eyes, and the words echo far off in the encroaching dark. 
I have to, you think that perhaps the words escape your slack lips in a low mumble, but you cannot be sure. 
Just for a little while. 
to be continued…
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skzstannie · 5 months
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"Let the memory-making commence"
SKZ -> ot8 x 9th member! reader
genre: fluff wc: ~2100 cw: none :) summary: After an emotional night, the boys cheer you up and try to give you something to look forward to surrounding the holidays again.
Here's Part 2 to "We'd never want you to struggle alone" Alsooo, I hit 100 followers a couple days ago, so THANK YOU SO MUCH!
Reblogs are more than appreciated!
Happy Scrolling! || Masterlist
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Previously:
You all lay in each other's arms, and you feel incredibly comfortable and safe. Chan's the first to break the silence, "We have five days left until Christmas. What do you say we make some new Christmas traditions? We don't want to replace what you used to have, and you’re entitled to spend your Christmas season as you'd like. But, if you'll let us, we’ll give you something to look forward to about the holidays again. Please?" The guys are all looking at you now, each of them displaying a face that could rival a sad puppy.
You realize now that there's nothing to be scared of. These are your best friends you're talking about, who want nothing but to shower you in love and happiness.
"I'd love that."
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So, the guys set out on their mission early the next morning, figuring they better start as soon as possible. After all, they had so many fun things they wanted to do with you before Christmas Day.
You were abruptly brought out of your peaceful slumber from an added weight landing atop your stomach. You startle, opening your eyes to be met with Hyunjin’s hair brushing up against your cheeks. You try to push him off you, holding up your title of being a grumpy morning person, but he won’t budge.
“Get up!” he whines, shaking your shoulders. “It’s already 8:30, and we can’t just let you sleep all day!”
“I’m not asking to sleep all day. I’m asking to sleep until 10, now please get off,” you struggle some more, pushing with all your might. You quickly give up though, finding your attempts futile against Hyunjin’s size and stubbornness.
“No can do, up and at ‘em sunshine!” he grips your blankets and whips them off you in a flash, leaving you shivering from the cold temperature of your room. He’s quick to throw you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, and he begins to make his way out of your room.
Your fists pound on his back, your only desire to go lay back down in your warm bed. This doesn’t deter him however, so you give him a nice firm smack to his butt, making him yelp. You swiftly wrap your arms around his waist as he lets you slip a little off his shoulder.
“Hwang Hyunjin don’t you drop me!” you yell, holding onto him for dear life.
“I won’t, I won’t. That just hurt really bad, you little menace!” He puts you down once you’ve arrived in the kitchen, and his hands immediately reach back to massage his poor bum.
“Well, that wouldn’t have been necessary if you’d have let me sleep another hour,” you huff, crossing your arms over your chest.
“Ok, no more Ms. Grumpy Pants, I only wanna make cookies with Ms. Sunshine, so if you could please find out where she is, that'd be great,” he retorts, a sarcastic smile taking over his features.
You roll your eyes but give in, allowing your lips to curve up into a genuine smile.
Hyunjin starts to gather the ingredients for making cookies, slamming cupboards left and right. As you busy yourself doing the same, you look up towards the kitchen entryway upon hearing some ruckus from the hallway. Seungmin and Felix practically bounce into the kitchen, looking way too excited for 8:30 in the morning.
Seungmin makes his way over to you, holding an extra apron that he plops over your head, tying it loosely around your waist. “Thanks Minnie,” you tell him, turning around to give his arm a gentle pat.
“Alright, let the memory-making commence,” Felix claps his hands and giving them a quick wash in the sink, reaching for a stainless steel bowl Hyunjin had set on the counter. “If we wait too much longer, everybody else will get up and crash our cookie making party.”
All was going smoothly, the four of you working together and following a recipe Felix had printed out, until Seungmin got a little antsy and decided to flick Hyunjin in the forehead with a flour-covered finger.
Seungmin laughs at seeing Hyunjin’s expression. “Flour boy,” he calls Hyunjin, breaking out in even more giggles.
In retaliation, Hyunjin grabs a fistful of flour and launches it at Seungmin’s face, leaving the poor boy coughing.
Of course, all hell breaks loose after that, and by the end of your food fight, all four of you end up absolutely covered in flour with a single egg plastered against the fridge door.
You guys managed to finish the cookies, having barely enough flour to make the batches. Once they’ve gone in the oven, the four of you decide to go shower and get cleaned up while they bake.
All the other guys have woken up by the time you’re finished with your shower. They’re all sat around the kitchen, the aroma from the cookies no doubt drawing them in. Chan goes over the plans for today, and you smile at his thoughtfulness. After breakfast- a.k.a Christmas cookies- you’re all going to go sledding, then come back to the dorms for dinner and a Christmas movie marathon.
After you’ve all eaten one too many cookies, everyone goes to get dressed for your first group activity of the day: sledding.
You realize you don’t have any appropriate clothing for sledding, the snow sure to seep through the nice coat you have, so you ask Seungmin if he has any extra garments that'll keep you warmer.
"Yea, let me find some really quick," he responds, diving deep into his well-organized closet. He comes up with two pairs of gloves, one slimmer and one thicker, a thermal, long sleeved turtle neck, a hoodie, and a huge winter coat.
"All of this will not fit on my body at once, Seungmin," you comment exasperatedly, overwhelmed by the weight of the clothes he just threw in your arms.
"Yes they will, and you will be warm. Go get dressed, we're leaving in a few minutes," he dismisses your concerns, leaving no room for discussion. He gives you a light push out of his room so he could get himself dressed and shuts the door in your face.
"Thanks!" you shout through the door, heading back to your room to layer up.
After putting on all the clothes Seungmin gave you, you feel like a marshmallow. A big puff ball, if you will.
You walk to the living room where everyone is waiting for you, ready to complain about how you are not going out in public like this.
They are quick to rebut, telling you how adorable you look while pulling you out the front door towards the readied van in the parking lot.
The drive is uncomfortable, all your winter gear making you all hot, everyone fitting a little tighter in their seats than normal. The ride is short, though, only about 10 minutes before you're all allowed freedom of the outside once again.
You let out a small chuckle upon seeing the hill you'll be sledding down. It's small, no taller than 20 feet, but the guys assure you it'll still be fun. Upon some further digging, you find out you're manager requested you partake in absolutely zero dangerous activities during your day off, and this is all the guys could convince him of.
You guys make your way up the hill, Jeongin and Felix dragging the sleds up. To make things more interesting, everyone decides two people will race down the hill at the same time, and the winner will be decided tournament-style.
Chan and Hyunjin go first, and Hyunjin wins by just a few feet. Next is Felix and Minho, and Minho pulls out ahead. Seungmin and Changbin go next, and Changbin wins by default because Seungmin wiped out about half way down the hill. You and Jeongin, being the maknaes, decide to team up against everyone else and ride together. Of course, this doesn't go without complaints from the rest of the members, Hyunjin giving you guys the nastiest side eye he could muster. The maknaes come out on top, beating Jisung by a landslide. Maybe it's because your sled had twice as much weight on it, or maybe it's because you guys are just better; it's up for debate.
By the end of the day, you and Jeongin reign champions. You all continue to sled for a while longer, and eventually your peaceful sledding session turned into a brutal snowball fight.
The culprit of the snowball fight was Minho, deciding it'd be fun to shove a handful of snow down Jisung's jacket. This of course lead to the development of two teams, Maknae line versus Hyung line.
You guys pelt the oldies for a few minutes, obviously gaining the upper-hand once your makeshift snow fort was built, courtesy of Felix and Jisung. However, you guys surrender once Jeongin is captured and threatened with handfuls of snow down his pants.
Once arriving at home, hot showers are in need, all your fingers and toes frozen to the bone. You get dressed in your coziest pyjamas, accompanied by a big hoodie and fluffy socks.
Chan takes it upon himself to order food in for everyone, and you all thank him before deciding on which Christmas movie to watch.
You reveal that one of your favorites used to be How the Grinch Stole Christmas, the Jim Carrey version, and everyone agrees to start with that one.
Your food arrives about a third of the way into the movie, and you all indulge on the much needed meal. You have some more Christmas cookies for dessert, and by the time you're finished with the food, the movie is over.
You all make light fun of Hyunjin for crying over the ending, but allow him to choose the next movie to try and put a stop to his dramatics. He chooses National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation, and you're thankful for another comedy.
While the day has been quite fun, watching movies isn't as thought-provoking as a snowball fight, allowing some of your anxieties and negative thoughts to creep into the back of your mind.
You miss your family. You miss the way your grandma used to sit and listen to all your school drama and the way she'd gasp when you'd tell her what your best friend had done for a boy. You miss the way your father used to buy you a pair of earrings every year for Christmas. You still had every pair, your first being cute little bunny studs, and your last being a beautiful pair of Sterling Silver hoops. You miss your grandfather's sarcastic remarks; your mom found them insulting but you always thought they were funny. You miss your mom. Everything about her- her home cooking, her hugs, the way she'd always know what to put in your stocking.
You know now, after today, that it's okay to miss those things. You're supposed to miss your loved ones. However, it is not okay to live in the past and despise change. Your mom would've wanted you to celebrate Christmas with a family as loving as the one you have here surrounding you. You know she would've loved your members, every single one of them.
She would've loved the way I.N was your partner in crime in life, never backing down when you ask him if he wants to prank Chan with you. She would've loved the way Seungmin acted like your older brother, teasing you every chance he gets. She would've loved how happy Felix is, always acting as your light in the darkness. She would've been proud of Han for fighting through his anxiety and how he helped you with yours, never letting you feel alone. Your mom would've loved Hyunjin's art, the way he paints his soul on paper with a singular brush. Your mom would've been impressed by Changbin's health journey and motivation, and she probably would've secretly convinced him to drag you to the gym with him. Your mom would've admired Minho's gentleness towards animals and his love for his cats. Lastly, your mom would've loved the way Chan takes care of you, always making sure you're happy and well.
Thinking back to yesterday and how thoughtful and caring everyone had been, you decide to tell them your creeping thoughts. They, of course, comfort you, Changbin pulling you closer from your spot between him and Minho on the couch. They ask if you want to elaborate on your feelings, but you tell them no. It had been such a fun day, and for the sake of your mental health, you choose to try and busy your mind with the plot of the movie.
This works in your favor, and you’re able to replace your thoughts with laughter. Towards the end of the film, Changbin's comforting hold has begun to lull you to sleep, too comfortable and warm to keep your eyes open any longer.
"Thank you guys for such an amazing day. I had a lot of fun," you mumble into Changbin's shoulder, pulling everyone away from the movie for a second.
You hear a chorus of coos and whispered affirmations before you officially let sleep takeover your restless mind and body.
476 notes · View notes
peeponastick · 7 months
Text
Unraveled
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Domme!Reader x Sub!Yuji Itadori
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Word count: 2.5K of pure smut
Rating: Explicit NSFW 18+ Minors DNI
cw/tw: fem!reader, teasing, edging, orgasm control, overstimulation, cursing, dacyrphilia if you squint, oral sex (f. giving) & deepthroating, spit?, sweat, nipple/breast play, lots of dirty talk (Yuji is very vocal yummm), size kink?, not super hardcore BDSM or dom/sub dynamics but there are elements (if i had to label it, reader would be a pleasure/mommy domme/switch but she's really just a freaky lil' minx. no mommy/mama titles used!!!!), praise, use of pet names (sweet boy/pretty boy/good boy, etc), creampie.. phew I think that's it
Synopsis: just purely depraved smut someone help me that i wrote while taking a break from my Itachi fic. Yuji is such a sweet subby boy and reader thoroughly enjoys herself as she makes a mess of him. 
This is my first time writing straight-up smut and my first Kinktober writing!! There's not enough Yuji smut out there and that's a damn shame bc muscular puppy boys make my brain go brrrr. I hope y'all enjoyyy <3
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♡♡♡♡ Smutty smut smut right under the cut♡♡♡♡
Yuji let out a breathy gasp as your wet folds grazed ever so lightly against his oversensitive tip yet another time. Your pretty boy was sprawled out beneath you on the bed, gripping the satin sheets as he struggled to control himself. A wicked smile spread across your face seeing him like this, so desperate for you.
You had been playing with him for an hour already, languidly peppering kisses down his neck, broad chest, and chiseled ab muscles at a torturously slow pace. Your lingerie-clad figure hovering inches above him, the soft skin of your breasts rubbing against him as you made your way down. Making him squirm as you lightly dragged your nails down and up his v lines, teasingly getting closer and closer to his hardening erection. 
He watched you with eager eyes, mind overrun with buzzing anticipation as you began to lightly stroke his cock, seductively looking up at him and licking your plump lips. That sight alone was too much for him as he tossed his head back against the bed, “Fuuuckk!” he moaned, his whole body tensing and flushing with heat as he tried to reconcile how badly he wanted more stimulation with the deliciousness of the sexual tension he felt pulsing through his veins. His head shot right back up to resume intently watching you, not wanting to miss a minute of the beautiful sight laid out in front of him. 
“P-Please”
He knew it was early to start begging, but he couldn’t help himself. Every breath, look, and touch of yours drove him absolutely wild, and right now, he desperately wanted– needed more of you. 
“Please, please, more,” his voice laced with sweet desperation. You paused, sitting on his thick, muscular thighs, your brow quirking at his brazen request. 
A loving smile warmed your face, “So needy today, hmm my pretty boy?” your saccharine voice rang in his ears. He enthusiastically nodded, a pleading look in his puppy brown eyes, his hips tensing and bucking once at the lack of stimulation. “Ooh what a poor thing,“ you cooed, rubbing his sculpted chest. 
You slowly leaned over him, arching your hips as you placed your hands on either side of his neck to bring your full breasts inches above his face. Your lace-covered, hard nipples gently brushed against his wanting lips and nose as you teasingly rocked back and forth. 
Mesmerized by your body, he let out a soft moan as he fervently tried to latch onto your nipple. His mind went hazy with desire, his large, strong hands moving without his permission to firmly grab the plush of your hips. You let out a small gasp at the sensation of heat radiating from his palms against your skin.
You leaned down, bringing your lips a whisper away from his as you looked deeply into his lust-blown eyes. “I’ll give you more,” you purred against his lips, his fingertips digging into the tender flesh at the excitement of your words, “but no cumming,” a devious smile lit up your face as you licked his bottom lip to punctuate your order. Yuji let out a low groan from deep within him and you made your way back down to the center of his desire.
You took his fully hardened cock in your soft hands, resuming stroking it before you moved to lightly press a gentle kiss to his slit already leaking with sticky precum. His eyes were locked in on you, face twisted in divine pleasure and biting back his moans. But when you looked up at him, a sultry look in your eyes, as you began kissing lightly up and down his entire length, dragging your wet tongue along his cock between kisses, his eyebrows knit together as waves of white hot pleasure and desire flooded his senses, “Fuuckkk oh my god,” he cried out. 
He was coming completely undone and you had barely done anything, but he didn’t care. All he could think about was you, how good you made him feel, how much he loved you, how amazing your pretty mouth would feel wrapped around him and taking all of his lengthy girth down your throat. He needed more. 
As if you read his mind, you flicked your tongue along the base of his cock up to his frenulum, before taking the smooth head of his cock fully into your mouth. He whimpered, muscles shuddering with pleasure at the sudden warmth of your mouth, propping himself up on his elbows to get an even better view. 
“Mmmh feels s-so goood,” he panted, watching you swirl your tongue around his length while looking up at him with a naughty smile before you took more of him into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks as you began passionately sucking. You hummed in enjoyment, sending vibrations through his cock that made his eyes momentarily roll back in ecstasy, and felt his thighs and lower abdomen flex as he was getting closer and closer to the edge. 
You were in control, but your own lust was starting to unravel you as well. Your spreading wetness gathering between your smooth thighs, pussy clenching at the sight of the mess you were making of Yuji. His soft pink hair disheveled from his squirming, sweat dripping down his temples, over his prominent cheekbones, rolling down his neck to drip off his collar bones that framed his beautiful figure, his whole body heaving at every sensation your skillful tongue and lips created. 
Your carnal appetite became insatiable, drunk on the sensual power you felt making him feel so good. You took his length all the way down your throat, swallowing around his pretty cock, before sliding him out of your mouth with a pop of your lips, your spit sloppily dripping off his length and down your chin onto your breasts. You continued deepthroating him, hungrily watching the pleasure overcome him as he whined, his hips bucking up to chase his high.
“Ahhh-haah fuuckkk!” he choked out a moan, “O-oh my god yess! Y-You make me, fuck-” he whimpered, “f-feel soo good,” eyes screwing shut at the overwhelming pleasure washing over him in heated waves. He could feel the pressure building at the base of his cock and in his lust-driven state, had completely forgotten what he was told. His primal urges controlling his body, he wanted more than anything to release the pressure building inside, to cum all over your beautiful face, chest, down your throat– anywhere, he just needed to cum.
Noticing him reaching the precipice of release, you pulled back, a sadistic glint in your smile as you stopped all stimulation making him desperately whimper. His sweet eyes looked at you with shock and confusion as he whined, “No, no, nooo pleasee y/n why, f-felt s-sooo good was so c-closee, pleease!” 
You tsked, “Good boys listen to what they’re told,” you warned in a soft but stern voice, “you wanna be a good boy for me, don’t you?” your honey-sweet voice lilted. 
“Yess!” he cried, tossing his head back against the pillow in pitiful frustration, tears of overstimulation flowing down his flushed cheeks. 
“Poor baby,” you cooed as you began ghosting your fingertips down his lower abdomen and around the base of his rock-hard erection. His hips rut up against you as he let out a whine, desperate for more of your touch. 
You crawled back over him, leaning down to give him a soft kiss at the edge of his pouty lips. His head perked up, noticing how close your soaking wet pussy was to the head of his cock. He looked up at you with half-lidded, innocent eyes, “Pleaseee I’ll be soo good,” his strong arms snaked up around you, large hands pawing at your hips and kneading the round of your ass, “just, mmneed more of you, fuck, I can’t-” 
Whether it was his pleading words paired with the sweet look on his face, or the way his needy touch was making your pussy crave the feeling of being stretched by his thick cock, you decided to oblige.
Looking deep into his soft eyes, you leaned down to press your lips against his, pausing centimeters away to let a breathy moan whisper against his lips before he reached up to pull you into a passionate kiss. 
You pulled back, sucking on his bottom lip, eliciting an excited moan from him. You slowly moved your hand down your curves to grab his hand that had made its home in the crease of your thigh, guiding him to the heat between your thighs. You rubbed his long fingers along your slit, indulging him in the knowledge of how badly you wanted him too. 
“Shii-iiiit,” he hissed at the feeling of your burning arousal, his cock twitching with excitement. You brought his hand up from between your legs, his eyes captivated by the glossy wetness coating his fingers. You seductively locked eyes with him as you pulled his fingers closer to your face, wrapping your swollen lips around his pointer finger as you sucked your wetness off, a shuddering moan left his throat at the sight. 
Yuji’s lust-glazed eyes looked up at you, “Mmm wan-wanna taste p-please,” lolling his tongue out obediently. 
“Such a good boy,” you hummed with a smile, dropping his hand to let him savor the taste of you on his fingers, a look of elation on his face at receiving such a reward. 
As he lapped up every drop, you began rocking your hips back and forth, arching your hips to position your pussy ever so close to the head of his weeping cock. Your slick-covered lips lightly brushed against his tip as you moved forward, making his breath hitch as he let out a strained moan. 
His needy hands bruisingly gripped your hips before one began roaming your body, caressing your soft skin and pulling aside your lingerie to expose and fondle your breasts. You flashed him a sinful smile as you continued to tease your poor needy thing, his hips thrusting up in desperation anytime your wet pussy hovered close enough to touch. 
Rolling your nipple with his thumb before he latched onto your breast with his supple lips, going back and forth between breasts, hungrily kissing and sucking as he moaned contently.
“Fuuckk baby” you mewled at the delicious sensations, the ache of desire in your lower abdomen becoming unbearable. 
You rocked your voluptuous figure forward again, grazing your arousal-flushed lips against Yuji’s tip once more. On the return of your hips, you slowly slid the head of his eager cock inside your wet pussy, both of you let out ragged gasps and moans at the long-awaited sensation that sent white-hot pleasure pumping through your veins. You paused, relishing in the sinful stretch you felt just from his tip.
He panted, his muscular arms and shoulders flexing as he reached to grip your waist, cock throbbing as he desperately tried to fight the overwhelming urge to slam your hips down and indulge himself in the intoxicating feeling of your warm, wet pussy lips swallowing his entire length. 
When neither of you could take it anymore, you sank your hips all the way down, burying his pulsing erection to the hilt between your tight walls. Your pussy squeezing him at the feeling of being so full. His eyes focusing on where you two were connected, enamored by the sight of his cock disappearing inside you.
You spread your palms across his firm chest as you began slowly riding him, almost letting the tip pop out before you sheathed his engorged cock deep within you again, your eyes transfixed on the mess of a man beneath you. 
“F-Fuckkkkk, y/n” a throaty whine leaving him as his eyes screwed shut, mouth agape as he tossed his head back in ecstasy. 
He looked up at you with a dazed expression, “Holy fuckk, fee-feels so fucking good,” his words fumbling between breathless moans, “mmmh I-I love, I love y-you so much,” his sweet voice drawled.
You smiled affectionately, leaning down to press gentle kisses from his pink cheek to the corner of his lips, “I love you too, sweet boy,” your silken voice danced against his lips as you pressed your plump lips to his. He kissed you back, fire pooling in his lower abdomen at your words and kisses as your pussy milked his cock, he nipped at your lower lip as you pulled back. 
His hands grasped your hips firmly as he began thrusting up into you, unable to withstand the torturous pace at which you were riding him any longer. You gasped, a strangled moan coming from deep within you at the rippling shockwaves of pleasure his pounding cock sent through your body. 
“Fuuuckkk, like that baby ooh m-my god,” you sobbed wantonly, your breasts bouncing as he relentlessly fucked up into your pussy. A coil beginning to form deep in your core as he pounded you from below, unhinged in his desire to pleasure you and chase his own high, both of you moaning in combined euphoria. His throbbing cock massaged your g-spot with each thrust, his hand moving to rub circles around your pulsing clit with his slender fingers.
You felt the coil tightening in your lower abdomen, your bodies both tensing at the nearness of release. Your brows knit together in bliss as you looked down at your pretty boy, pleasure painting his face with determination to make you cum before he went over the edge, the pressure at the base of his erection building with every thrust. 
You tilted his chin up, making him look into your eyes, “Cum with me, my good boy,” you breathlessly commanded, feeling lightheaded as you began teetering on the edge of your climax. Yuji’s pupils dilated with pure lust and desire, your words releasing the floodgates of restraint, his pace mercilessly quickening, dragging curses and screaming moans out of your chest. 
Your aching cunt clenched around him as your orgasm exploded out of you, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he let out an exasperated cry, thrusting one final time as deep inside you as he could. Stilling as his cock spasmed, emptying the contents of his heavy balls deep inside your pussy, filing you up, your pulsing pussy milking him for every last drop. 
He held you there for several moments as the electricity continued coursing through the both of you. Your bodies connected as one, his warm cum filling your pussy to the brim, your sweat dripping down to combine with the sheen of sweat covering his body, pooling in the lines of his carved muscles as you both panted with exhaustion. 
His hands tiredly dropped down to your thighs as he let out a satisfied groan, “FUCK, that was amazing,” a beaming smile on his face. You moved to slide him out of your abused pussy, teasingly dropping down the length of his sensitive cock one last time to make him hiss with overstimulation and smack your ass as you giggled.
You tossed your spent body down next to him, snuggling up to his sprawled figure. He hummed lovingly as he pulled you closer to him, pressing a sweet kiss to your forehead. Two lovers, connected as one heaping pile of sweaty flesh and tangled limbs, peacefully drifted off to sleep together. 
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If you read this far, thank you so much!! I hope you liked it ♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎
982 notes · View notes
kisakis-boyfriend · 7 months
Note
monster reader with bennett? he's on an adventure, but he gets a bit more "excitement" than he initially anticipated. i hope this works with the horror/halloween requests!
Beware the Big Bad Wolf
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Pairings: Bennett x reader
Warnings: Male!reader, dom/top!reader, wolfboy!reader, sub/bottom!Bennett, dubcon, scratching, biting, breeding, reader is called 'sir', more virgin Bennett
Genre/Format: Smut; Oneshot
Author's Note: As usual, Bennett is 20+ here! I went with a wolfboy reader because I had a lovely idea for this, I hope that's ok, anon!!
Please check my blog title to verify whether requests are closed or not! Thank you!
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Bennett was on his way to Wolvendom for a commission, and a dangerous one at that. The Adventure's Guild posted a commission to investigate the outskirts of Wolvendom as there have been multiple disappearances lately. Several members of the guild had gone missing after attempting to trek through the forest as a shortcut. Remnants of shredded camping gear and clothing, shattered swords, broken weapons, food scraps, and traces of blood had cropped up in and around the famed area, causing quite a bit of panic to circulate within Monstadt
Ever the brave one, Bennett accepted the commission and pulled together a few other adventures to help him. But, as his luck usually plays out, all of them had something important come up at the last minute and they couldn't make it, leaving Bennett to take this on alone
So off he went, marching swiftly into the dark forest, home to many wolves and other woodland creatures. A single bead of sweat rolled down his cheek as the young man's trembling hands held the map that the guild had given to him, littered with markings and notes locating the pieces of evidence and routes that the adventurers had most likely taken
Staying past sunset was definitely not Bennett's plan, but he had been so focused on following trails that he lost track of the time. It was far too dark to navigate these woods alone and he did manage to pack camping gear...so making a fire and taking shelter was probably the smartest idea right now, despite the supposed danger lurking about. Bennett did the best he could do with the food packed for this journey, feeling content with dinner and quickly growing tired from the day's endeavors
A distant howling startled the poor boy, already a bit on edge due to the nature of his investigation. He wrapped his coat around his arms a little tighter, shivering from the cold night air. Another howl off to his right, still relatively far away, or at least that's what he assumed based on the low volume. Wolvendom was a beautiful forest, but it could become rather spooky at night. Especially to lonely adventurers
Lonely adventurers who had let their guard down, sitting with their back turned towards you...no weapons in sight, seemingly nodding off under the moonlight.... They were the perfect prey
“Aah- Mmph!” Bennett started to scream when a strong arm wrapped around his torso, pinning his arms against his body so that he couldn't fight back. A clawed hand swiftly muffled any sounds threatening to escape, preventing the struggling man from calling for help, not that anyone would come to the rescue though
“You humans are awfully persistent, aren't you?” you began, “How many of your kind have been killed and yet you still send more weaklings out here to their grave?” you scoffed, shaking your head at their sheer stupidity
“I mean, really...every few days I'm forced to tear another one apart because none of you will stay the fuck away from my territory.” A snarl punctuated your last words, your teeth nipping at the human's ear in the process. Bennett whimpered into your palm, on the verge of tears as you growled at him while he weakly struggled to break free. His efforts proved to be futile as your muscular arms kept him in place, pressed back against your chest while you tipped his head back further, exposing his throat and grazing your fangs against the skin
“Are you gonna be a good victim for me and keep your fucking mouth shut while I gut you?” You said, tossing the human onto the ground and hovering over his smaller frame, raising a clawed hand up as you were about to slash at him when he stammered out in fear, “Wait!! Waitwaitwaitplease– Please don't kill me!”
His shaky hands pressed against your chest in an attempt to hold you back, though you both knew it wouldn't work. “Please... C-can't we talk about th-is?” Bennett hiccuped, his body beginning to tremble more and more with every passing second. You contemplated his proposal for a minute, checking out his body in the meantime. He was an exceptionally beautiful human. While he was smaller than you his arms were rather toned, he also had the prettiest green eyes and fluffy white hair that was just begging you to pet it. Plus his scent was nice...like pine trees and campfire smoke with a little sweetness mixed in
A toothy grin made its way onto your face as you said, “Alright, then talk. Give me a good reason not to kill you.” The little purr in your voice sent a shiver crawling up the human's spine, gulping as he stuttered out nonsense in an attempt to come up with something that would convince you to spare him
Slowly, your hand creeped upwards until it encompassed the little human's throat, his weak grip finding its way to your wrist as his stammering grew quieter. “Ya know, it would be a shame to waste a pretty face like yours. Since you're having trouble convincing me of your worth, allow me to offer you a choice instead.”
Your breath fell on Bennett's cheek as you leaned in close and continued, “You will either become my mate and give your body over to me, or you become my dinner. What's it going to be, human?” Bennett's mind raced as your proposal swirled around in his head. M-mate?! What kind of mate?! I don't exactly trust this guy but...I d-don't have much of a choice here...
“O-ok...I'll be your...um, your mate...” The human said with uncertainty, gulping at the fanged smile growing on your face as you licked your lips. Immediately getting flipped onto his stomach and roughly held down by your hand on his spine. A strange pressure was now present on his bottom, it didn't hurt it just felt... weird. New, like nothing he has ever experienced before
“Gooood. Good boy. Mm, I'm going to enjoy breaking you in.” You growled above the man, grinding your hard-on in between his plump cheeks. Precum had already begun to spill inside of your pants from the excitement of finding a new mate after so long, and the way the bare member brushed against the fabric of your pants only caused more to leak out. Your cock ached to fill and knot someone's wet holes again, breeding them full of your pups night after night until they couldn't even walk. Scenting them so that no other would dare to touch them, unless the idiot wanted a painful death, that is
“Hah! Ow ow ow...too much...” Bennett whined. Your wandering thoughts caused you to claw into the poor thing's back tightly, cutting his skin in the process and spilling a bit of blood. Whoops. Attempting to apologize to your new mate, you leaned down and lapped at the new scratches, cleaning the blood off before kissing his back. This seemed to ease him a tiny bit as his fists unclenched slightly, exhaling a shaky breath when your lips touched his skin
“Sorry, I was jus' thinking about how good it's gonna feel when I sink into that tight hole of yours~” You groaned, fumbling with the human's belt until you were able to slip your hand down the front of his pants. Bennett let out a high-pitched gasp as his dick was touched for the first time, his legs involuntarily spreading to allow more room for you to stroke him
As your rough stroking pulled more whines and whimpers from the inexperienced man, your cock grew harder and began throbbing in the tight constraints of your clothing, begging to be let out to ravage the hole that you'd been dry humping this whole time. Not wanting to wait any longer, you released Bennett's smaller dick and undid your own belt, freeing your aching member with a hiss as the breeze hit your sensitive skin
“Keep that ass in the air for me, yeah?” You prompted, pulling his pants down so that his entrance was on full display. Biting your lip hard enough to nearly draw blood, your hands groped at his soft flesh as you spread his cheeks apart, spitting on the human's hole and rubbing it around until your thumb slipped in. A choked moan escaped from him as you breached the orifice, working in two fingers soon enough as he rocked his hips into your touch. You wrapped your hand around your own dick and jerked yourself off, imagining that the tightness of your fist was his ass
While Bennett was whining against the ground and thrusting back against your hand, you lined your cock up and swiftly replaced your fingers with it, pushing halfway inside with a loud, drawn-out groan, “Ooooohhh shiiiit...mhm, FUCK you're tight. ” As your nails dig into his soft hips, Bennett releases another high-pitched whine while his insides adjust to the intrusion, stretching in ways they never have before
You began thrusting shallowly into his hole, letting him get used to your girth at least a little bit before you bottomed out. The human's warm walls clenched around you and it felt like heaven; your cock dragging against his insides while you drooled above him. His hips would definitely be very bruised after tonight, but that thought had no place in your mind when you were fucking into your new precious mate
“Mm you feel so damn good. Taking my cock like this, fuck...” Your thrusts sped up as your climax approached hastily, fucking into Bennett's virgin ass like your life depended on it. Finally spilling your first load deep inside while his voice cracked from his place on the ground, delicious pleasure overtaking both of you as you remained buried within him
It wasn't long before you began to hump into his hole, humming while you carded your clawed fingers through the human's fluffy hair. The softness only lasted so long before your humping turned back into pounding his ass again. Bennett's hole was so wet from your previous round of cum that every thrust into him made squishy sounds, which enticed you to thrust harder just to hear those hot noises, soon emptying another fat load into his womb
“Ffffuuuck—!! You'll be a good breeding bitch, won't you? Hnnngh f-fuck– Gonna take more of my cum, yeah? Just. Like. That. ” You grunted directly into his ear, pressing against his back while you held his hips up so that you were still hitting him at the perfect angle to prevent your cum from spilling out
Bennett panted like a bitch in heat while more warm cum flooded his insides, gradually breaking his mind with each new load pumped into him. “Yeeess, sir... Y-yes...aaahh—!! ” His pretty moans filled the area while you relentlessly drilled into him, staining his guts with your seed so that no one else would even dream of breeding the little bitch. Meanwhile, your sharp teeth pierced his delicate shoulder in a fit of possessiveness, growling as you marked your mate on the outside too
The next couple hours carried on much the same, more cumshots fucked into the human's ass as you rutted into him. More bite marks littered all over his exposed skin. Letting your instincts take over as you relieved yourself after almost a year without a mate. Suffice to say that the unlucky adventurer wouldn't leave that forest for quite some time
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Reblogs are extremely appreciated <3
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reallyromealone · 8 days
Note
Part 4 to ganondorf x male readers engagement like who the wedding was and the maybe the wedding night? Please.
Title: ganon omegaverse
Fandom: the legend of Zelda
Chapter 4
Characters: loz ensemble
Fic type: series
Pairings: ganon x reader
Warnings: male reader, reader insert, omegaverse, nsfw, smut, heat, marking, biting
Notes:
🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️
(Name) Fit in exceedingly well, the people recognizing him as not just their kings mate but future queen.
(Name) Hadn't seen his sister since he left, she hadn't sent a letter or anything and frankly it hurt (name) deeply as he sat in Ganons lap, the Alpha soothing him with callused hands, they left tomorrow for the wedding and (name) was genuinely excited to marry his alpha but he was also so anxious! Anything could go wrong!
"What is troubling that pretty head of yours?" Ganon kissed the others temple as the smell of distress was suffocating but Ganon refused to let his love struggle alone "what if something goes wrong?! What if I trip! O-or it rains!" (Name) Turned to straddle his lap as he looked up anxiously and clung to the alphas tunic "what if I make a fool of myself!"
"Darling, I had an indoor wedding arranged because I know you hate that you can't control weather and don't want wind blowing everything away especially with the winds of central Hyrule, your wedding attire is just high enough so that your feet can't get caught and you will not make a fool out of yourself, you are brilliant and I will do everything in my power to assure that our wedding is nothing short of magical" ganon promised and (name) looked at him with watery eyes and nodded, ganon kissing his tears away.
The trek to Hyrule was longer than he remembered, (name) still looking out eagerly at the vast desert that turned into the mountains and fields of Hyrule as ganon read his book quietly, the two fully invested in their own things. Something Ganon appreciated as he was a rather reserved alpha, he liked that (name) could handle himself and didn't need him 24/7 for every little thing, the two developing an excellent schedule.
(Name) Was depwndant on him but not co-dependant on him, he didn't need Ganon to feed him unless it was his heat or he was gravely ill, the Alpha remembered when the poor thing suffered with gurudo fever... Poor thing.
"I feel... I can barely move" (name) was covered in sweat as the palace medical team kept his body cool with water and cold soups "why do I feel like this" his voice hazy and waved in and out as he looked at Ganon as if he had all the solutions to his problems and in a way he did "it's gurudo fever, my love... Your little Hylian body can't handle the heat but it will pass with proper care" the poor Omega was bedridden for almost two weeks as he slowly recovered from it.
And now he was as happy as ever, writing everything down he saw to research later in the gerudo libraries and possibly Hyrule castles libraries as they would be at the palace for a few days before setting off to their honeymoon.
Though Ganon didn't think (name) would have much of a chance seeing as the wedding and post events would take up so much time not to mention the fact (name)s heat was close.
The way to the castle was filled with cheers and joy as (name) waved at them as ganon looked at him lovingly, the Omega was so happy to see everyone take the time to see them on their way to the palace, festival decorations everywhere.
Their wedding wasn't until tomorrow and the couple was thankful, Zelda greeting them formally "it's nice to see you in good health little brother" (name) saw the small smile on Zelda's face before letting them settle in, having her own things to attend to as the wedding would be tomorrow and guests were already in the city.
Ganon smiled at the omegas bedroom, such a large bed for a tiny little Hylian.
(Name) Sat on Ganons abdomen as they kissed, having not had a moment of privacy the entire trip and (name) was getting needy "you have to wait till after the wedding to do that little one" ganon could smell the neediness on (name) as the other pouted, the two has gotten much bolder with their touches but Ganon knew never to go too far, not until the honeymoon where ganon was going to blow this cuties mind.
"I can't believe Zelda let us stay together, unwed" (name) giggled as ganon rubbed the others things "she would lose her mind if she caught wind of what we have done back home"
Back home, ganon liked that (name) saw gerudo valley as home.
That he potentially saw Ganon as home.
(Name) Woke early, as did ganon, Gurudo women and Hylian maids came in to get them ready for the wedding and bring them to respective dressing rooms, the castle in full affect as royalty and high standing people from across Hyrule joined festivities, everyone absolutely thrilled at the couple blessed by hylia, (name) and ganon deemed by the people a power couple. (Name) Was dressed in a beautiful blend of gurudo and hylian as Ganon gifted him heirlooms from his ancestors, beautiful gold's and rubies that (name) wore with pride while glancing at his mate to be occasionally as he was dressed in Gurudo regalia, something he couldn't take his eyes off of.
He was just so beautiful... His thick red hair woven into braids down his back and muscles in display... Thank god the maids and such were betas as Ganon gave him a look that said 'behave' and (name) pouted a bit but controlled himself.
If you asked him months ago if he would ever consider acting like this, he would have been scandalized but Ganon had been working hard to let him embrace himself "Gurudo do not believe in shame with ones body" he once said when (name) panicked at the fact he slicked when they were making out and from that point, ganon made points to compliment and help (name) embrace his Omegan qualities and quirks.
The best in their bedroom was a start.
(Name) Sat before Ganon, the two on their knees as they looked at one another lovingly as their respective priests spoke, two very different wedding cultures being blended together wasn't easy but (name) was happy it worked.
"You may now present your mating marks" Uberosa said calmly as the Hylian attendees of the wedding looked confused and Zelda was even a little confused despite being told of this. (Name) Adjusted himself so his neck was bared to the king who gently slotted his face against it and bit down, carefully to not hurt his precious mate but firm enough to bound him forever and to the Hylians horror, watched as (name) returned it though he had to sit up a bit more to do so.
An Omega marking an alpha? That was the topic of conversation as the ceremony finished, all the guests going to the great Hall for cocktail hour and the party as the mates changed and got ready for the reception.
But first, Ganon calmed his omega down who was a bit overwhelmed from the mating and neediness that came from it, typically guredo weddings were ceremony then everyone parties while the couple gets busy with it and on last night they join the final party with a traditional dance.
But since it's Hylian as well, they had to do it in a day.
"Shhh, my love... You did so good" ganon cooed as he removed the jewelry as (name) grew stressed when the maids tried to remove it for him "my beautiful mate, you were beautiful... Absolutely wonderful" his praises and kisses calmed (name) as they gently cuddled, they had more than enough time till they were to make their presence and (name) could feel the slight burn of his preheat, something now only Ganon could smell.
"Now, shall we get ready and show the world just how wonderful you are?" Ganon cooed as he led (name) to get dressed, dismissing the maids as he dressed the Omega himself and gently laying kisses wherever he saw. He wore Hylian heirlooms along with gurudo though now in silver, his sister's silver and crystal tiara made to look like Leafs and silver and diamond jewelry, white robes with silver embroidery of gurudo and hylian aesthetic.
Ganon sat (name) down as he put the sandals on the other, kissing his ankles as he did so "truly, the goddess's blessed you with nothing less than the beauty of Hyrule" (name) grabbed the alphas jaw and slowly pulled him into a kiss before resting his forehead onto the others "I love you" (name) whispered and the world stopped for the two as ganon broke out into the largest smile "I love you as well, my darling" Ganon would move the heavens for this radiant star that was (name), he would do anything to hear those words again.
(Name) Held onto Ganons arm during the reception, the kingdom partying for the royal wedding as the Goron Chief bludo stomped towards the couple with a large grin "my! King ganon you are truly a lucky man!" He said happily as he looked at the Omega "you let me know if he's being a knothead, I'll whip him into shape!" He teased and (name) giggled at him "maybe one day you two can visit our suanas, we recently found one low enough from the mountain to not harm Hylians fragile skin!" (Name) Looked up at his mate hopeful and ganon smiled "we can visit come the winter months, enjoy the waters to their fullest"
The couple greeted their guests and various royalty and tribe leaders, (name) excited to see impa as she praised him "My, you truly have grown" Impa smiled as she looked at the prince, now queen consort who dazzled the room "you must visit me sometime soon, enjoy the peace" (name) remembered when he was very little, his father would take him there kn disguise to see the omegas god mother of sorts along with Zelda, the two playing with Cuckoo's and Zelda learning archery as (name) helped impa, she gave him his first book for himself; Hyrule: a history.
The couple watched as the guests danced, (name) grinning as ganon and him did traditional Gurudo dances together as a newly wed couple before Zelda and (name) danced, typically it was the Sire or the Dam but since they had neither Zelda stepped in.
"I just apologize" she said softly to her brother as they danced, fire arms touching as they moved in sync and years of formal training coming into action "it was unfair of me to deny you your mate, it was selfish and cruel... I hope you can forgive me" her words sincere and hopeful as (name) smiled "I forgive you, I know you care... Even if it's in your own way" he teased as the other smiled, lost in their own world as ganon smiled at the siblings and glanced at his sister "he is truly remarkable" she whispered and ganon felt his heart melt.
Yes.
He really was.
Eventually, Ganon wisked (name) off as the Omegas preheat set in and washed the Omega in a bath as he was dizzy and needy "were married..." (Name) Mumbled as he rested his head between Ganons pectorals, purring softly as the other rubbed up and down the omegas back soothingly "we leave come dawn, your heat won't be arriving for another day or so and then you finally get to do what you want you horny Omega" ganon teased as he explained the plans to his mate who was almost passed out on him "sweets?" The Omega was already out of it, during heats he often craved sweets and meats.
"Uberosa made sure you will have some for the trip, now sleep my love"
(Name) Wore soft and light clothes during the ride as he slept in Ganons arms, his body slowly growing warmer as ganon read his book quietly as to not wake (name).
He was gonna need all the sleep he could get.
Their honeymoon was a month long as the first week was dedicated for (name)s heat and Ganons possible rut, newly mated pairs had the possibility of them triggering one another's cycles early.
It was quite small, but enough for ganon to get around but for royalty the seven bedroom cottage on the lake side was tiny.
But that's not what ganon cared for, it was what was around it that was important to him.
(Name) Never really experienced his home land, horses and wildlife all around them and guards hidden throughout the area but for now he had a needy omega to attend to.
(Name) Had woken and whined, the early stages of his heat... He hated now painful it was.
(Name) Chirped as ganon kissed him, removing his clothes and letting the other worship his body with kisses and touches as ganon groaned at the taste of the Hylians sweat, like concentrated pharamones "take... Take off your clothes" (name) grumbled as he tugged at Ganons large tunic with a point "still coherent? How are you feeling my star?" Ganon asked his mate while removing his clothes and not missing how (name) stared at his gurthy cock with a hungry expression, Ganon knew outside of heat that this Omega would be a mess at the concept of his cock.
He had that heat confidence.
"I don't.. hurt as much .." (name) whispered as ganon kissed his cheek gently "do you wish to nest before we get into it?" Ganon asked his love who nodded and took the Gurudo kings large tunic and his pants before looking to ganon hopefully, thankfully the Alpha understood the assignment immediately and went and collected all the nesting supplies he could for the other.
It was adorable seeing (name) make a big nest for the two, both butt naked as ganon slowly stroked his cock at the sight of his naked mate, (name) was perfect and god he couldn't wait to see him pregnant with his pups.
When (name) finished, he laid on the nest sweetly as he looked at the others hard cock and the fog in his eyes and the chirp told ganon one thing.
It was go time.
(Name) Spread his pretty legs and ganon was between them in lighting speed as he lapped at the others hole, a gutteral groan escaping him as (name) jolted at the pleasure having never experienced something so blissful and powerful as the others tongue pushed in and deep, he knew the others tongue was larger than his but fuck!
(Name) Let Ganon do as he pleased as he clung to anything he could, currently it was Ganons head and the pillow behind him as he let the man devour his ass, slick sticking to the sheets as (name) came in record speed.
"Beautiful..." Ganon rumbled as (name) reached out to him.
"Please..."
Ganons massive cock was already lubed and lined up, the Alpha soothing him as he slowly breached (name) who whined and shook as he tried to adjust to the other, their racial proportions making it difficult as (name) was impaled.
When ganon bottomed out, (name) was shaking and the two adjusted for ten solid minutes as ganon whispered praise to (name) and kissed him lovingly "you're so good my love, you took me perfectly..." (Name) Experimentally moved his hips and moaned out shakily and ganon in turn slowly began thrusting, light experimental thrusts that made the other shake and convulse.
Ganon grunted as he began thrusting, watching as his cock went in and out of (name) and slowly began picking up speed as he suckled on the others chest and lifted him closer as he slowly picked up speed, (name) crying and moaning as he clawed at the others skin in pleasure.
Ganon grunted at how perfect his mate felt, the room heavy with pharamones as they fucked like animals.
"So flexible..." Ganon marvelled as he had (name) in splits, one leg raised in the Gurudos hold and the other barely touching the grounf as ganon fucked him, cum leaking out of (name)s cock and ass as he moaned pathetically for more.
Ganon fucked him everywhere, in the kitchen between making them food, in the livingroom when they had a chase (ganon learned that (name) loved being chased during his heat) and in the baths as he tried to clean the cute Omega up.
When (name) woke, he felt sticky and gross as he looked at Ganon, throat sore and body aching as he gently touched the others face "one moment, Omega... I'll knot you good" ganon grumbled as he sat up and lifted (name) into his lap, the Alpha clearly tired as (name) simply snuggled into him "morning..." (Name) Mumbled sweetly and ganon smiled "ah, you're finally back to normal" ganon was relieved as he kissed him gently, the smell of heat dissipating as he slumped against the alpha.
"Do you think I'm pregnant?" (Name) Mumbled and ganon chuckled "with the rate we went at it? It would be impossible for you to not be pregnant"
(Name) Smiled at the thought of him being pregnant and sure enough he was, nine months little Riju was born.
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pumpkinbxtch · 6 days
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Hi, I just saw that you said that Jason is a little possessive, so I was wondering can you do a request with Jason and reader in that scenario, where he is a little jealous and possessive boyfriend?
he wrote 'mine' on my upper thigh
— jason grace x fem!reader
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warnings: jealousy, language, jealous jason
a/n: I live for this face of everyone, it makes me very irresistible, lol.
— Want to die? — Jason asked, his expression completely changed. As if his pale skin wasn't enough, the way his face turned into a deadly calmness gave them enough reason to doubt every decision they had made in the last two miserable years of their lives. When they felt a cold breeze run down their spine, confirmed they had definitely messed with the wrong guy. What Jason didn't know was that normal mortals didn't find it hard to play that game because, well, those threats were never as real as he was used to.
— It's just a woman, no big deal, buddy — maybe was the brown-haired guy said it in a disdainful tone, or maybe was the last word that made Jason's stomach churn, but he remembered he was still in public, so he tried not to incinerate them with a snap or at least not to keep gritting his teeth the way he was because he swore he was about to shatter them.
— Just a woman — he repeated the words, dragging each one with hatred and disgust. The guy with the red hair looked more nervous than his other friend, so he tried to make peace, but that was something Jason had already left behind as an alternative to that argument. He wouldn't forgive any disrespect to you, because you were his best friend, his girlfriend, the person he would die for without a second thought, and if they wanted to see him that way, then you weren't just a woman, you were his woman.
He glanced to make sure you weren't anywhere near the checkout and took a few steps toward the pair. The redhead was close to wetting his pants, but his friend still had that stubborn look, pretending to downplay the significant difference in height and muscle mass between them.
For a moment, Jason struggled with his morality, because it was stupid to fight with his clearly abnormal strength for something that was easy to ignore because they would never be able to lay a finger on you while he was alive. However, he couldn't help but notice the way their eyes had been roaming over your body or the way they looked at you while you smiled at him. It made his blood boil and awakened the most primitive part of his being causing his logical side to drown and disappear, almost like those days when he was with the wolves. Besides, if he thought about it, it wasn't just them, it was every damn man and woman who dared to smile at you in a way that suggested more than just kindness, especially if they were the ones making you laugh. That's when he always felt on the edge of losing control.
Jason could feel shame somewhere in his conscience for his behavior, but this was also too real to hide for a little longer. That moment alone with those idiots had only given him the golden opportunity to unleash those piled-up frustrations.
— Yeah, just a woman — it was stupid, the conversation didn't go beyond that, but the retort was enough for the air to smell metallic and their hair to stand on end warning of the electricity beginning to fill their surroundings. How bad would it be if two mortals were struck by lightning for earning the title of the biggest idiots of the month? The answer was obvious to Jason: very bad, useless, in fact. So he took a deep breath and watched their hair return to normal.
— She's mine — he said, starting to turn around to go help you, but he stopped when he heard the other mocking him.
— Who says? —Jason was fed up with the irreverence and turned back to them, his fingertips sparking again.
— Beat it —he said as he sent a small electric shock to both of them. Mild enough not to cause harm but enough to make them scream. His eyes literally sparkled, making them doubt what they were seeing, scaring them, and confirming that the Mist hadn't helped when he saw them run. He wondered if he had gone too far, if he had let himself be carried away too much by that part of him that didn't make him proud but that he knew was part of him. In the end, he decided he didn't care, remembering that someone had once told him he had to stop holding back. So, with that philosophy in mind, he decided to go look for you.
The picnic tables weren't as crowded as you expected, in fact, there was hardly anyone around you, and you wondered if it was because for a moment there was a hint of rain or because of the heavy aura that Jason had been carrying since you left the grocery store, and now that you thought about it, you considered that both reasons were possibly related.
— Jason Grace — you called him sweetly as you opened the picnic basket, and he immediately softened his frown and looked in your direction. He was struck by the gentle way the breeze swayed your hair, it was an almost imperceptible movement but it highlighted how beautiful you were. He knew why you were calling him by his full name, his behavior couldn't be more obvious, but those words echoed in his mind.
»Who says?«
He slid along the bench to get closer to you as he watched you set things on the table. He wrapped his hand around your waist, and although you smiled in that way that was like oxygen to him, it wasn't enough for him. So, taking you by the hips, he forced you to stand up.
— C'mon, let's eat, baby — you said giggling, and he sat you on that old wooden table while he returned to the bench.
He looked up at you with his blue eyes, and seeing you from that perspective that made you look majestic. he rejected the idea of letting anyone else be the person who hugged you or who was close enough to smell your sweet scent. The idea of someone else other than him being able to kiss your lips, which were so perfect and soft, drove him crazy, he couldn't handle it.
»Who says?«
With that thought, he started searching in your bag that was lying next to you, you never stopped him, but you wondered about that change in attitude because he seemed a little rougher and severe, his eyes were even a little darker, but you couldn't deny that he looked handsome, that you even liked it.
When Jason found what he wanted, he stood up supporting only his right knee on the bench as support and he enjoyed the way that velvet skirt rose, leaving your thighs in his view. Before leaning towards them, he searched your eyes for any kind of disapproval because for him, the most important thing was how you felt, and not finding anything like that, gave him enough confidence to continue.
He felt your muscles tense and tried to undo it by caressing your leg, but failing that, his lips kissed a bit above your knee, which made you swallow saliva, what the hell was he trying to do and why now? Jason was never too public, any major display of affection was always in a more intimate place. When he straightened up, in his hand you finally saw what he had taken from your bag: your eyeliner.
Dazed, you reached out to try to take it, but he quickly caught his hand with yours on the table and before you could do the same with the other, he placed the open eyeliner between his lips and trapped your other hand in the same way.
He raised his gaze above his glasses and slowly shook his head, sending a silent warning before leaning towards you again, exactly on your upper thigh. You felt the moisture of the pen on your skin and with a given precision, you started to see that he was writing, but it wasn't until he finished that you could barely read it. The air left your lungs when you deciphered it and you didn't understand how after doing that, he had sat back down with the same serene smile as always, his hands spreading the tablecloth for you to eat while he hummed a familiar song.
Had you missed something? It was definitely something new in him to behave openly in that way, but you didn't dislike it. After all, what it said there wasn't a lie.
— Do you have any objections? — His demanding question didn't match the sweet tone in which he had said it, and you got off the table to put both hands on his shoulders.
— No, sir — you confirmed with the same tone and kissed the line of his jaw before taking a seat beside him.
Jason continued to arrange things, he seemed peculiarly focused, so you took the opportunity to discreetly look down once more, but your skirt had covered the word. Slowly with your hand, you lifted the fabric until it was visible again:
"Mine"
You felt a warmth spread through your body and crossed your legs on purpose to make it visible. That action drew a smile on your boyfriend's face, and not long after, he kissed you. No, it wasn't a lie, but as you was his, he was yours.
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