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muchosbesitos · 5 months

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so I have this idea in my head right, how would Miguel would be like after breaking up with reader, but it was his fault. He kept lashing out at them even though they were trying to help, they tried and tried again and again until reader had enough and broke things off, and Miguel is HEARTBROKEN.

But take your time! And have a great day/afternoon/night !!

breaking point

pairing: miguel o’hara x reader

contents: angst

author’s note: you just know the way to my heart w this request anon 😫

word count: 4k

"Los hombres no lloran, Miguel." (men don’t cry)

Conchata had first told these words to him when he fell off his bike around five years old, blood smearing all over his leg. He'd continued to hear those words throughout the course of his life whenever he got hurt, emotionally or physically. As much as the words had engraved into his very being, the only thing that he wanted to do as he stood in front of your door was burst out into tears. The bouquet of flowers he was holding dropped down to the floor, the petals scattering around the concrete. He willed himself to try to move, to get himself to walk away and save whatever bits of pride he had left but he couldn't. All he wanted to do was wait for you to change your mind, tell him that this was all just a cruel joke on your part.

He'd gone over to your house, wearing a button down shirt and his nicest pair of pants while he held the bouquet of roses in his hand, hoping that you'd go out to a dinner with him. He took note of the way that your smile faded away when you opened the door, your arms folded across your chest in a defensive manner. He was met with a "what are you doing here?" instead of the usual kiss and hug he'd grown accustomed to when the two of you started dating. "I thought that maybe you'd like to go out on a date. Eat some of that spaghetti that you like," he responded, determined to making things between the two of you right.

He'd seen the spark from your eyes slightly dim with every day that passed, until you eventually looked at him with pure exhaustion. The love that you used to share for him completely disappeared, each glance directed towards him begging for a change. Despite the fact that the relationship kept draining every single of drop of your energy, he selfishly wanted to keep you close to him. He realized that the flowers and dinner that he'd offered you weren't enough to make up for the months of pain that he'd caused with his actions, but he held hope that it would be a step towards the right direction. Or at least an excuse for him to talk over with you, explain his reasoning for the way he’d been acting.

"What are you trying to prove with this, Miguel?" You asked him, your figure still blocking the door as the two of you conversed. "I’m not trying to prove anything. I just want to share a dinner with you, te lo suplico," he practically pleaded with you, the action foreign even to himself. He was used to being demanding to get his way, never being the one who was at mercy. "I don't want to have a dinner with you. You'll probably end up having a meltdown that I’m using the salad fork to eat my spaghetti," you remarked, standing out of the way to close the door. He pressed his foot against the door before you had the chance to close it, his brows furrowing through the crack on the door.

"Is it the spaghetti? We can get something else if that's what you want, I just miss spending time with you," he spoke up, holding your gaze through the opening. "You wouldn't miss spending time with me if you hadn't been so busy on pushing me away," your reply came out cold, detached. Part of the reason that he'd asked you out for this spontaneous dinner was that he wanted to make up for it somehow by doing a grand gesture, feeling you slip underneath his fingers with every day that passed. "Please? I won't ask anything more of you than just this date. I'll get down on my knees if you want me to, there's nothing that I wouldn't do for you," he told you, a dry chuckle eliciting from your lips.

"You say that now, but you couldn't even act like a decent boyfriend. You couldn't do the bare minimum and now you think that with some shocking spaghetti date, you're gonna fix the damage that you did to this relationship. I don't want anything to do with you, leave me alone," your annoyance was growing by the second with every word that you uttered, closing the door after he stepped aside. You thought that expelling him out of your life would make you burst out into tears, that it would elicit a feeling of pain deep within inside you. But, you'd spent so much time mourning the loss of the relationship before this moment that it almost didn't feel real.

Going to his home to pick up your things a couple days later filled you with a sense of relief, knowing that nothing was tying you to him anymore. You held a box of the things he'd left at your apartment as well, a couple shirts from when he'd stay the night as well as a couple necessities. You didn't feel anything as you looked down at the stuffed animal he'd gotten you at the beginning of the relationships, back when the dates actually used to be something consistent. It was a bizarre that every memory of the relationship that the two of you held could easily be buried into a box, the contents of it each signifying something different.

You hesitated for a moment before knocking on his door, setting the box on your knee to free up one of your hands. You looked up at Miguel as he opened up the door, a stubble starting to show on his chin as well as the dark circles adorning his under eyes. You'd seen him spend many days awake, never exactly looking the way that he looked now. "We're doing this whole thing?" He asked you, his scratchy voice taking you out of your thoughts as you focused back on the task at hand. "Yeah, I just figured it would be better to get it out the way as soon as possible. Do you mind if I come in?" You responded, trying to ignore the smell of alcohol practically seeping through his pores. It almost made you feel a bit of sympathy, the fact that he was hurting so badly because of you. Almost.

He stepped aside to let you in, a couple papers scattered across the floors as well as an unkempt dinner table. "I'm just gonna go to your room and get my stuff," you muttered, stepping around the room to avoid the pieces of paper scattered around. The last thing you needed was for him to cause a problem over stepping some important paper. You'd stepped into his room, immediately overwhelmed with the memories of your time spent in here. Every single night that the two of you shared together, whether it be something bloomed out of intimacy or simply just comforting one another, ran through you like a tidal wave at all once. This room served as a place where you and Miguel had shared some of your most intimate secrets and moments, so it seemed a bit fitting that this was where it all ended. It took you a couple seconds to get your feet unstuck from the spot you were standing in, walking over to his nightstand to get some of your jewelry.

Miguel hated how you looked so casual while you were picking up the stuff, almost like the action didn't matter to you the same way that it did to him. "Are you sure we can't work out through this? I know we've been doing a little rocky recently but I don't think it's enough for us to end our relationship," he spoke up from his spot on the doorframe, his retinas practically burning from the sunlight coming in through the window. You'd pulled the curtain back to have the natural sunlight guide you through the room while you were picking up your stuff, but he hadn't slept in days. It felt like he was staring into direct sunlight so he pulled out his new best friend, a pair of sunglasses he'd bought last time he went for a beer run. Despite the fact that his body metabolized the alcohol at an accelerated rate than most, he still enjoyed the couple of minutes he felt a buzz.

You turned to look back at him, completely brazen by the way that he was choosing to approach the situation. "We haven't been doing rocky just recently, we've been rocky for a couple months now. And if you're not going to attempt to be better, then what's the whole point?" You responded, putting in the final articles of clothing that belonged to you. "I already told you, I've been stressed out lately. I promise once I'm done with this anomaly case, I’ll be more agreeable to be around," he told you, his heart pounding inside of his chest as you stepped closer to him on your way out. "You've been saying that for the last five months. Being stressed out doesn't give you a free access pass just to be an ass to everyone trying to help you," your words hit him like a dagger, the intensity of the impact increasing as you walked out on him.

The relationship that you'd had with Miguel was good at the beginning, like something told out of a fairytale. You met him one of the missions dealing with a Rhino variant, the mission proving to be more challenging than you'd originally anticipated. You'd called him as a last resort, your suit hanging on by the last thread and web shooters running dangerously low. You were extremely lucky that you were even able to swing far away enough from the anomaly, fingers haphazardly moving across your gizmo to call for backup. He'd appeared next to you, taking a glimpse of your appearance before motioning you to go inside the portal. "I'll take care of this, you're too hurt to continue. I'll send you the report later if that's something you want," he'd told you, analyzing the scene in front of him before jumping into action.

Even though you did want to see the end to this fight, you realized that you might be more of a hindrance than help in the current state you were in. You staggered inside of the portal, getting transported back to HQ in what seemed to be only a matter of seconds. You made your way into the infirmary to get a couple wounds checked out, your accelerated healing slowed by the amount of hits you'd taken throughout the course of the fight. The nurse's precise hands were a nice change of pace from the sloppy work that you were used to doing on yourself, the process of getting the stitches done not being as bad. "If you're still in pain after, just come back and we'll give you something to accelerate that healing of yours. It should be gone in about an hour or so," the nurse told you as she was finished up with your injuries, rinsing her hands in the sink at the back of the room.

You thanked her for the job that she'd done before heading out to the lab in order to make some modifications to your suit. You were looking through the formula of your webbing, trying to pinpoint why exactly it was that you ran out of them so fast. The webs had lasted you long enough when your only job was to protect New York in your dimension but now that you were acting as a multi-dimensional protector of sorts, you'd found yourself to be running out of them much faster than your other counterparts. "What are you doing here this late? Shouldn't you be resting?" You heard from behind you, turning around to be faced with miguel's stoic expression as he walked in through the door. "I'm doing better, I’m just trying to figure something out with my webbing. How'd it go with the rhino?"

"It was fine. You'd done a decent job of beating him up so the task wasn't too difficult to get done," he responded, taking the notebook from you as he read through the components of your writing. You wanted to let out a scoff at how he'd taken it away, but you also knew he could offer a unique perception of the composition given his previous job. You weren't used to depending on much people, the only person that'd been that constant for you being Uncle Ben before his imminent death. You couldn't deny that it did feel like a small burden being lifted off your shoulders to be able to depend on someone else for help, even if it was in the form of a mildly tempered man. He took your pen from the desk, starting to write some things down before handing it back to you. "Try changing these and see how much better it gets. I'm not too specialized in the matter since my webs are organic but I think it'll do you some good."

Miguel always found himself annoyed when someone burst into his office without announcing their arrival beforehand, but he couldn't seem to get annoyed with you when you did. "Hey, I hope I'm not bothering. I wanted to thank you for the insight you gave me, it really did help with the webbing issue," you spoke up, having to crane your neck to look up at him as he stood on the platform. "No problem. Is there something else that you needed?" he responded, the platform slowly starting its descent. "Well, I was wondering if you could help me design a new suit since mine got pretty torn up during that battle. You seem to be aware of what type of materials to use and whatnot, so I figured you were probably best to ask," you told him, his figure looming in front of yours as he got off the platform. "Sure, follow me."

It was easy to fall in love with him despite the nature that he showed to others, since he was always so relaxed with you. You could see the walls that he'd carefully buried his feelings with slowly start to crumble down every single time that the two of you were together. Dates between the two of you had become routine, some of the members from HQ commending you for getting Miguel out of his office for more than a couple minutes at a time. He caressed your skin with such care, each one of his touches exuding the affection that he was harboring towards you. The time that he told you that he loved you, you couldn't help but feel like you were on top of the world for a change. You knew how hard it was for him to love people, to even get close to them, so to have the honor of having his heart was one you valued greatly.

You weren't sure when your relationship with Miguel started to feel like it was heading in a downward spiral, the whole thing resembling the feeling of being on a rollercoaster. "Don't worry, he just doesn't know how to deal with things," Peter had tried to assure you after he witnessed one of the more intense fights that the two of you had. You'd tried to take Peter's advice and not let the arguments get too much to your head, but it seemed like you were walking on land mines every time you interacted with him. After every storm, there seemed to be calm aura around the two of you for a couple days. almost as a way to recharge and regroup before the next fight started and the cycle repeated itself once more. You forgave him every time that he did something you would disagree with, a small part of you dying inside with every "it's okay" that you gave him.

He'd grown more fond of you, falling deeper and deeper in love with you every time that you forgave him for pushing your boundaries. But on the contrary, you started to fall out of love with him with every empty promise at being better that he uttered. His apologies had become repetitive, to the point where he was simply just recycling them in hopes that you wouldn't be pissed off at him for more than a day or two. The words "I’m sorry" had become a routine part of his vocabulary, almost seeming like every conversation that he held with you included them. The words soon enough lost all the original meaning to them, especially when he said them in that tone that implied he would rather be doing anything else than apologizing.

"Can't you see i'm trying to focus on this damn anomaly? It's already hard enough with you interrupting," he scowled as you came into his office with a box of pizza. You'd meant for it to be a kind gesture, for him to be able to eat something throughout the day since you knew that he would spend most of time buried away in the shadows tinkering with his screens. "I just wanted to get you something to eat so you wouldn't have to worry about it," you hated how weak your voice sounded as you spoke, your voice doing nothing to conceal the hurt you felt. "I'll change, I'm sorry. I'll do better," he assured you, dipping his head down to kiss your forehead once he saw your bottom lip tremble. "I'm just so stressed, y'know how it is. I'll manage it better for you, I promise. I'll really do it this time," he told you before you walked away from his office, imaginary claws digging into your chest. And he had kept his promise, mostly changing for the worst.

"I don't get why you're so pissed off that I missed our date, it's just one out of many. We'll just go on another one," he scoffed, not even bothering to look at you as his fingers typed away on the hovering monitor. "It was our two year anniversary date, Miguel. And I'm pissed off because you've been missing out every date that we have scheduled for the past five months," you managed to get out, almost like you didn't believe that he would forget. "I said I would make it up to you, stop making a big deal out of this," he reiterated, talking to you like you were the one in the wrong for having the simple desire of wanting to hang out with him. "There was a time when you actually knew the balance between being with me and your work. I hope you find that soon for both of our sakes," you told him, reminiscing of many months ago before stepping out of his office.

You were so tired of forcing yourself to look at the good that had been in the relationship, tired of living off of solely the good memories. The decision of breaking up hadn't been something that crossed your mind until you saw a couple strolling down the street while you were on your way to get something to eat. You'd never felt so alone looking at them despite the fact that you had a partner, but the way that they laughed and basked in each other's presence seemed something almost foreign to you at this point in time. You were grasping at straws, hoping that one day Miguel would wake up and love you the way that he used to. But that hope inside you slowly began to extinguish, until there was nothing left but just a feeling of adaptation. You wanted to convince yourself that you could adapt to this new way of living, of being able to claim that he was your boyfriend out of the love you felt for him without actually spending time with him, but the simple truth was that you couldn't handle it anymore.

To him, the breakup had been sudden. like you woke up one day and decided that being with him wasn't worth it anymore. It was hard for Miguel to even fathom the idea of having to go through the motions of life without you, especially when he saw himself having a future with you. He'd thought about what it would've been like coming home to you, maybe with a couple kids and a dog running around. But that's all that it was now, just a thought he wouldn't be able to fulfill. He felt the void of your presence everytime he walked inside of his apartment, it was like you had never been in his space in the first place. He wanted to grow accustomed to that feeling, but every single of atom of his being couldn't help but yearn for you.

Every single task that he had to do in his life felt meaningless now that he couldn't return home to you, not that he would do it on most days regardless. But he liked to have the knowledge that you would be there, welcoming him with a hug and a smile while your hands massaged his back. He knew that it was nobody's fault but his own, for pushing you too far past your limits. He wanted to blame it on his upbringing, for not having a good coping mechanism with his stress, but he knew that the fault all lied on his shoulders. He wasn't aware of how good he'd had it until he lost you, realizing just how lucky he was to have someone so kind and understanding be by his side. His hands reached out for you in the couple hours of sleep that he managed to get, silent tears rolling down his cheeks after finding that you weren't there.

"Your serotonin levels are extremely low, are you sure you don't want to take a break from all this?" LYLA spoke up, doing the routine health scan Miguel had programmed her to. "Don't start. Just give me the reports," he grumbled, looking up once LYLA was finished talking. "You have 10 missed messages, do you want me to read them out to you?" LYLA asked him as he sat at his desk, his hands on his knees as he looked down at the floor. As LYLA read out the messages that Gabriel along with a couple of the other spider recruits had sent him, he couldn't help but wish that maybe your name would pop up in between the mix. "Discard them all, thank you," he ordered LYLA, the assistant doing as she's told before disappearing off into thin air.

"Miguel! My man, How are you doing?" Peter's voice boomed throughout the office, his voice echoing through the confined space. Miguel gave a small grunt in response, not willing himself to entertain him at the moment. "Well, I have to say that me and MJ are doing so great right now, I'm honestly so lucky to have her in my life," Peter gushed about his wife, completely oblivious to the internal turmoil raging inside of Miguel. "Are you here just to talk about how wonderful your wife is or does this impromptu appearance have a point?" He asked the man, arms folded underneath his chin. "Well, I was wondering if maybe you wanted to come out of your office for once. You've been trapped in here for a long time," Peter told him, his bunny slippers squeaking on the floor as he walked closer to Miguel. Miguel wanted to deny the accusations and lie, say that he's fine and that he'd been going outside of his office, but he decided to stay quiet.

As soon as he stepped out of the office with Peter B, he couldn't help but instantly regret his decision. because there you stood, laughing along with something a recruit was telling you. At that moment, he so captivated by the way that your laugh sounded, like the tune of a thousand angels singing down on him. The way that your smile just seemed to radiate across the room even to him, making him feel as though he were a planet and you the sun, simply entranced in your orbit. But with those feelings also stemmed the feelings of regret and jealousy. He wanted to be the one that made you laugh like that, wanted you to even spare a single glance at him. It made him want to hold you in his embrace one more time, to appreciate everything that he'd lost the moment you broke up with him. You were so close to him, yet so unattainable.

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bg-brainrot · 3 months

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A Bloody Sacrament (Astarion x GN!Durge)

Featuring: Astarion x Evil!Durge

Genre: Smut

Rating: Explicit, 18+

Series: Fits into A Star in the Dark, AO3 link here

Summary: After fulfilling the Tribunal’s task and becoming Bhaal's unholy assassin, you bathe yourself in a pool of blood. You wouldn’t mind spending the rest of your day doused in red, but lucky for you, you have a lover who is only too happy to clean you up.

Tags: Violence, Blood, Blood Drinking, Blood Kink, Blood As Lube, seriously a lot of blood like too much blood please be warned, Smut, Voyeurism, Semi-Public Sex, Masturbation, Fingering, Oral Sex, Dom Astarion, Vampire Ascendant Astarion, Pain, smidge of praise kink, smidge of overstimulation, aftercare sort of, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, POV Second Person, Evil Dark Urge, gender-neutral smut

A/N: If you follow me for my fun, fluffy stuff, I’m sorry, please feel free to look away c’: This is going dark and bloody (and uh, gross if you think about it too long). But sometimes I need to let my inner Durge out. Seriously mind the tags! Spoilers for all of Act 3. This is a Durge that has gone along with *everything* Astarion says, says the most evil things possible, is manipulating him just as they did him, and fully plans on taking over the world for their father. Naturally this is evil-evil Durge so like, tread carefully!

Word count: ~4k

The Murder Tribunal hums in satisfaction. You, the very slayer of Bhaal, prevail before them, standing in a crimson pool of your own making.

You have butchered the pathetic celestial, a hollyphant who dared play investigator. Now it is time to bathe in her blood, take your place as Bhaal’s Unholy Assassin, and prove yourself every bit your father’s child. Your head pounds, the bloodlust overwhelming as you inhale the scent of her ungodly demise, but you maintain enough focus to step forward.

Yes, your blood sings. Douse yourself in this pathetic creature's entrails, cleanse any remaining part of you that may still resist your calling.

Every stride brings you closer to release, to a greatness you know is yours to claim. When your foot finally dips into the pool of blood before you, you throw your head back in elation – yes, you’ve earned this.

Deeper into the basin you walk, down its slick steps, each one pulling you further down. It seems deeper than you thought possible, though perhaps it’s a matter of perspective. After all, as you surrender yourself, your body, to the cult of Bhaal, it’s clear the depths that you would go for the sake of your father’s unholy agenda are far, far deeper.

You reach the center of the pool, where you release yourself to your very nature. In the eye of the temple’s sacred bath, your body is consumed and into its crimson liquid, you sink– down, down, down…

Fantasies of a world built upon your whims invade your mind. Tears of blood run down soft, pathetic cheeks. A river of red courses through the city, fed by bodies you’ve slain. You see seas of blood that would put this pathetic pool to shame. All of it, every last drop, in the name of your lord, your god, your father: Bhaal.

It feels like years of these beautiful delusions, so when finally you snap out of them you sit up with a gasp. You’re not sure how long you were under, but judging from the unaffected looks of your companions, what felt like a lifetime was truly, merely a moment.

As you rise from your sanguine sacrament, blood drips from your hands, your arms, your legs. Every inch of you is stained red with the sins you’ve committed. It’s a delectable sensation, one that shoots up your spine, brings a heat to your core similar to when you’ve enacted a particularly brutal killing. You feel good.

You almost don’t notice Sarevok’s praise, the gift he bestows upon you– it’s exactly what you need to finally fell that wretch of a changeling you call a relative. You take it, utter some words you’re sure, but your mind is a million miles away, enveloped in images of blood and flesh.

When Sarevok and the rest of the Tribunal leave the room, you’re left alone with your companions: Minthara, Shadowheart, and Astarion. They seem to be speaking to you, but all you can hear is the rush of blood in your ears.

You shake your head– no, maybe there is actual blood in your ears.

“Are you alright?” you hear Shadowheart ask, a hint of distaste to her tone.

Minthara’s low chuckle follows and she says, “They are more than ‘alright.’ That was glorious. When we finally take control of this city, we shall all bathe in blood once more."

Astarion is unexpectedly quiet, watching you carefully with his ruby red eyes. Ever since he completed the Rite of Profane Ascension and took his rightful role as the vampire ascendent, he’d been anything but quiet. He’d laughed and murdered with glee. He’d even killed you, body and mind, only to bring you back more bloodthirsty than ever.

Ever since, you’d felt a connection to him unlike before. The tadpole in your brain ensures that you are not subservient to him, but you still feel tied to him by an unforeseen force. One that pulls you toward him, even now. It tells you that this look is meant for you, and you only.

“It’s as Minthara says,” you answer. “I am more than fine. I do, however, need to speak with Astarion. Alone.”

The two women exchange a glance. They’d grown used to your new relationship with Astarion, just as they’d gotten used to your previous relationship with him. Both had made a few comments, thinly veiled criticism of your choices in Shadowheart’s case, unadulterated mirth in Minthara’s case. Regardless, they know better than to get between the two of you.

“We’ll be at the entrance then,” Shadowheart says, turning away.

“And do hurry. Revenge awaits us both,” Minthara adds, following her out.

Astarion simply continues to stare at you, eyes narrowing to slivers as his lids drop in a predatory gaze. Once he’s given you a full once over, he speaks, his voice a dangerous rumble, “My beautiful, precious consort. You’re quite the mess aren’t you. Luckily for you, I would be happy to help. After all, you look good enough to eat.”

Your body warms, your limbs tingle, as if you’re able to feel every lingering trace of the man’s eyes on your body. Perhaps you can, given your intimate, everlasting bond. “Devour me then, my love,” you respond, beginning to walk toward him.

“Tut tut,” he warns, stopping you with an open palm. You pause, halfway between him and the pool of blood behind you. “You’ll receive my attention soon enough. First,” he licks his lips. “I think you ought to prepare yourself for me. Make my meal worth it.”

“Gladly,” you say, with a shallow gulp, your throat thick with a building desire. This is all part of the new game he likes to play, one you are only too happy to oblige. For you, his closest, most beloved treasure, he would do anything– but only if you showed him how much you wanted it. Begged for it.

You didn’t mind– for now. Let him have his fun and games, you think. It must be nice playing the master. But once this is all said and done, I know who shall wield the netherstones, I know who shall dominate the brain. All in the name of Bhaal.

Standing here, in the midst of your father’s bloody keep, newly bestowed with the title of his most unholy assassin, you strip your body bare.

As each piece of your armor comes off, you maintain eye contact with your lover, drinking in his wicked, openly lustful expression. At the sight of your bare chest, his smile widens. Once your bottoms are off, he takes a step closer, almost within your reach, but not quite.

Your building arousal is evident to him. Killing the hollyphant, coating yourself in blood, and now stripping before him, you certainly feel ready for him– though you know he wants more from you than that. Won’t take that final step until you’re well and truly pleading. You lower a hand between your thighs, starting with a gentle, teasing stroke.

“Good,” Astarion murmurs, eyes fixating on your hand, watching as you begin a more frenzied rhythm, as your fingers, slick with blood, are almost fumbling in their eagerness. Still, he doesn’t come closer, keeps his arms crossed as he watches in interest.

“Faster, my pet.” You go faster, beginning to pant as you work yourself up.

“A bit more pressure, darling.” You apply more pressure, barely muting the groan that comes to your lips.

“Now, now. Don’t be afraid to speak up. You do know how I adore your voice,” he murmurs, swiping his tongue over his bottom lip in anticipation.

You both know that there isn’t a door to this room, its stone entryway is wide and open to the ghosts of Bhaal’s tribunal. However, you also know that these ghosts are inconsequential, memories of those who were unable to bring glory to your father’s name– they should fear you and your ecstasy.

So you do as Astarion commands, allowing your mouth to drop open, an unrepentant moan exiting your lips as you continue to pleasure yourself.

Surely, this is enough for your lover. Your legs begin to tremble as you work yourself into a fervor and you don’t know how much longer you can last with his lidded eyes watching your every twitch.

But, of course, the vampire ascendent is unrelenting in his power. His next demand comes with a soft purr to his voice, betraying none of the wicked indulgence on his face, “My little love, relax. And make sure that you don’t ruin my meal.”

At first, you’re unsure what he means– how can you relax when the heat within you boils to a fever pitch? But you see the way his gaze drops down your body, tracing the rivulets of blood that have begun to pool at your feet. Ah.

It’s been long enough that the blood from your sanguine bath has begun to trickle off of you, a waste really. So you drop to your knees before the pool, run your hands across its crimson surface, and return to your own aching core.

Your hands a bloody red, coat your throbbing arousal in a few swift motions. Looking back up at Astarion from your reverent position before him, you ask, “Better?”

The low growl he gives you would be answer enough, but he still deigns to offer you a response, “Oh much.” His next movements are smooth, peeling off each article of his clothing as he continues to watch you through hooded eyes. “Consecrated in the blood of innocents, simply dripping for me. What more could I ask for?”

You can tell from the way that Astarion’s hands work his trousers, he’s already grown hard at the mere sight of you. The soft moan that leaves him as he brushes his cock almost brings you to the edge right then and there. Because this vampire lord, ruler of the night and nightmare among men, simply cannot wait any longer to pleasure you.

While he’s become more pristine, more poised in his ascension– he’s also become far more bestial. It shows in the way he tears an enemy in half, and it shows in the way he wantonly tears through you as soon as he's given the chance. So the lord falls, naked, to his knees before you, crawling over your kneeling body with hunger and purpose.

“Astarion,” you start, moving to reach out to him, to capture his beautiful lips with yours. But you're only met with an upheld hand.

“Not yet, my treasure.” His hand lands on your thigh, gripping it, and prying your legs apart. “I must tend to my consort first."

Then his mouth drops onto you.

Astarion's practiced tongue is normally quite an indulgent experience for you, a way for him to tend to you, as he said. But today, his tongue laps in a long, languid movement, capturing every bit of the blood that coats you. He moves so slowly, too slowly. It feels sinful, the way he teases. Your hips buck in response, your legs instinctively clench, but he grips you in place all the same.

“Astarion,” you breath out, barely able to hold another coherent thought as your bloody hands find his head, twining into his hair for dear life. ”Faster, please.”

He tilts his head up, giving you a bloody grin. “I simply must savor you first. Especially when you’ve prepared such a luscious meal.”

You can tell he likes this, your desperation. It gives him a sense of power and control he’s longed for for so long– and you, the chosen of Bhaal, his newly minted unholy assassin, are an utter prize to torment. He won’t give you what you want until he’s satisfied, and you’re starting to believe that this man can never be fully sated, even freed from his sanguine hunger.

So you plead, this time with more need in your voice, “Please, Astarion.”

“Oh, very well then. Whatever my precious consort desires,” he murmurs, pressing a soft, fleeting kiss on the soft, inner skin of your thigh.

Then he’s back on you, his tongue picking up speed as he circles your arousal. Your breath catches, your fingers tighten on his hair and once more you’re brought to the precipice. Pleasure builds in your core as he begins to suckle, drawing out of you a cry of sheer rhapsody.

The vampire’s fingers dig into your flesh as he sucks hard, and the pressure in you snaps. Your back arches as you come, thighs fighting against your lover’s grip. You hold his head to you tightly as he continues to nurse you in soft, rhythmic draws. Like the precious fiend you are, he cradles your hips to his mouth as he eases you down from your high.

Your vision swims and the blood that you’ve streaked through Astarion’s hair feels like the only thing in focus. It glistens red, whispering to you the sweet caress of blood and gore– in your euphoria, the man before you looks godly in his disarray.

“You’re beautiful,” you murmur, slurring your words in your stupor.

Astarion lifts his head, looking up at you through his long lashes. “As are you, my sweet.”

You produce a breathy laugh, knowing that you look a mess, still coated in more blood than usual– but also knowing that he means it. Especially as he continues crawling up your body, tongue tracing each line of blood, lapping at you as if a man possessed.

Each stroke of his tongue serves in equal measure to clean you as it does to reignite the fire in your belly. Inch by bloody inch, he licks along every rich ruby rivulet he can reach as he works his way up. The thought of this man, not cleansing you of your sins, but rather drinking them in, relishing them on his equally vicious tongue– well, you're far beyond any amount of shame, and your moans of pleasure cascade off the room's stone walls in a raucous symphony.

Finally, he reaches your face, hovering just above your lips as his tongue licks his own free of blood. "Now, my little love… tell me what it is you want from me,” he commands.

You’re still reeling from the feel of his mouth on you, speech seems too tall of an order at the moment. In fact, right now, the only things you can think of are his red eyes, beautiful bloody hair, and his stiff arousal, pressing into you.

So you reach down, trailing your bloody hand along the length of him, guiding him toward you in a wordless request.

"Use your words, darling," he says, nearly brushing your lips with his as he grinds into your hand to punctuate his sentence.

"Take me," you manage to gasp out. Then you take a deep, shuddering breath. You let the urge overtake you. "Let us sanctify this unholy ground. Show it the depths of our depravity." You squeeze his cock in another silent demand, devouring the groan that escapes him as you cover his mouth with your own.

Losing yourself in his flavor, metallic, and tasting distinctly of your own fluids, you only barely manage to remember to breathe. Your head spins, but he is all you want in your lungs. You’re not sure what triggers this desperation, whether it be the instincts within you or the very nature of the vampire before you, but you do know that it compels you to take every bit of him you can.

So you stroke at his length, consuming each and every noise he makes like the ravenous beast you are. He nips at your lips, a playful reprimand, but one that you take seriously.

You pull away from him, and you're both panting into each other when his next demand comes, "I will give you all that you ask of me. But first, you must lay back."

First one leg, then the other, you lay yourself beneath him. As you roll back into the pool of blood you had been kneeling in, his eyes trail you hungrily. Beneath the man’s crimson gaze, you feel every bit the depraved demigod you are. Like your cruel, tool of a body was made for him to ravish.

Astarion reaches behind you, hands skimming the basin of blood and coming back dripping crimson. To your questioning look, he merely smirks.

It's only a moment later that his hands are back between your legs. Coated with blood as they are, his dexterous fingers move fluidly to work your arousal back up. "Astarion,” you gasp out, still sensitive from his mouth’s earlier ministrations. “I need you, not– not this.”

“Patience,” he murmurs, looking down at you with a deceptively soft smile. His fingers leave your throbbing core, slipping past it to find your entrance. A single gentle, probing finger teases you, as he asks, “How much of me do you desire, my sweet love?”

“More,” you groan out, lifting your hips to meet him in your need. Again, the urge within screams. “Give me everything, and it will never be enough. I would have our very flesh coalesce so that I may be interred within your corpse at the end of the world.”

Astarion slows his finger momentarily, bends down to kiss your hateful lips, and whispers, “My lovely little lunatic, how poetic.” Then a second finger joins the first, and he’s pumping into you. Slowly at first, but his pace picks up as he finds a spot that makes you squirm.

The sound of his blood-slicked fingers entering you, over-and-over, seems to be too much for either of you to bear for long. Soon, his fingers slip out of you, his cock replacing them at your entrance before you can so much as moan his name.

Then he presses into you, truly melding your flesh with his own. He feels harder than he has before, fueled by the basin’s supply of blood. Inch by bloody inch, he enters you, and, but for a moment, your insatiable, bloody lust is satisfied by this man. Your back arches in response and your dark urges fall to much more primal ones as you attempt to clutch the slick stone beneath you. “A-Astarion,” you pant out. “Take me. Please.”

“You’ve been so good,” he murmurs, wrapping an arm around each of your thighs as he leverages himself, preparing for what you’re certain will be his finest performance yet. “It’s only right that you receive your reward.”

Then he pulls out, every so slightly, grins at you with a bloody, fanged mouth, and begins pounding into you.

Any normal Baldurian would balk at the force with which the man drives into you. But you are Bhaalspawn. You dwell within a realm where pleasure and pain walk hand-in-hand. And Astarion knows that– knows the limits of your wicked, bruised body.

As such, his savage thrusts are more than welcome. Your eyes close and your head rolls back as you bask in them. You find yourself to be the one issuing orders as he drives into you, again and again, “Harder. Harder.”

His fingers grip your thighs tighter as he strains to pick up the pace, to plunge into you with as much force as his sordid consort demands. The loud, lewd sounds of your bodies colliding echo through the room, punctuated by your needy cries, your lover’s grunts of exertion.

Yes, you think. Yes, break me, break Bhaal’s chosen, so that I may be rebuilt upon my own bones. Kill me to bring me back. Strip me down to lay me to waste. Cleanse me of this blood only to coat me in your own essence.

You feel your mind slipping away and your urges taking over once more as the peak of your pleasure approaches, as Astarion fucks the last sense out of you.

Eyes shut, hips sore, and mouth calling your vampire lord’s name, your climax comes crashing upon you in a wave of pure bliss.

It’s enough to send the man in front of you into a renewed fervor. Astarion grips your legs all the tighter, dipping his head forward to bite into the meat of your thigh. Fangs buried, he draws a deep gulp, relishing the taste of your orgasm in your blood.

Pulse after pulse, he plunges into you while he sucks from your veins, riding your orgasm to the last. It leaves you lightheaded and breathing heavily, but euphoric all the same.

When he finally releases your thigh from his mouth, his pace grows even more punishing. You’re certain that neither of you are leaving this unbruised, and, by the gods below, you love it. The painful slap of his hips against yours is intoxicating and you're not certain you ever want it to end. The world could collapse around you both right now, and you may not even notice it over the sound of your debauchery.

Then the vampire begins to flatter, his pace cracking as he approaches his climax.

“Not yet,” you moan, unwilling to let the feeling go. “Astarion, please.”

He doesn’t seem capable of responding, his only answer is a quiet whimper. You finally open your eyes, looking down at the man between your thighs– to see the tinge of red on his cheeks, the sheen of sweat on his brow, the tension of his neck muscles as he overexerts himself. The vampire ascendant looks utterly obscene in his unraveling.

Enough so that you clench around him, spurring on his release. “Come for me, love,” you urge, panting in anticipation of his undoing.

And he does.

Mouth open, dribbles of blood still eking out of its corners, hair shining silver and red, he looks a vision of rosy marble as he spills into you. His hands drop to your ass as he rolls into you through his climax, softer and slower than before. It’s almost sweet, if not for the bruising indents his fingers have left behind.

When he slips out of you, spent and exhausted, you can’t help but feel that in helping you clean up, he’s become quite the sight himself. You wish you could engrave this image of him into your mind, blood smeared across his face, his body, his softening cock.

You suppose it’s up to you to help him clean up.

“Astarion,” you say, sitting up and reaching for him. “Now who looks the mess?”

He gives you a low chuckle, as he crawls forward toward you, fatigued in his movements. “Oh, it’s still you, my treasure.” His crimson eyes rake across your body as he climbs lazily onto your lap, assessing the damage. “While the color red will always suit you, it wouldn’t do to waste any of this blood.”

“Was the hollyphant that satisfying?” you can’t help but ask, a smidge annoyed. “You seemed all too willing to drink from me, all the same.”

“You are the finest meal a lord could ask for, my little love,” he murmurs, before leaning forward and licking a line along your neck. “There is, however, something quite palatial about an entire pool of blood.”

“I suppose,” you concede, craning your neck for him. “If we ask nicely, perhaps my father will bestow this one upon us.”

Astarion hums into your skin with amusement. "Oh, darling. When we build our palace, we shall need a dozen such pools of blood." He pulls your hand to his lips, slowly sucking each finger clean.

You sigh, allowing the man’s clever tongue to lap at you, allowing his delusions of grandeur to comfort him. After all, when all is said and done, the realm will be decimated, destroyed in the name of Bhaal.

At least for now, you will allow yourself to live in his fantasy. So you simply reply, "And I shall be glad to fill each and every pool with the blood of our enemies."

He continues to lick, as you lavish him with praise. All the while you can’t help but think that you quite enjoy your new position as the unholy assassin of Bhaal. Hopefully father continues to throw me into situations involving such vast quantities of blood.

#astarion #ascended astarion #bg3 astarion #astarion smut #fanfiction #astarion baldurs gate #astarion x gn reader #astarion x reader #astarion x dark urge #astarion x durge #gn smut #astarion x evil!durge #dom astarion

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enchantedbarnes · 1 year

Text

Uncle Buck • Part 4

Misterwives

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Single Aunt!Reader

Summary: Your nephew Benji overhears a conversation. Not liking what he's hearing, he takes matters into his own hands.

Word Count: 3.9k

Masterlist: One | Two | Three | Four | Five

A/N: Sheeeeeesh. This one's longer than the other parts. Take this as my Happy New Years! treat I guess haha. Pt 1 just passed 4k notes and my mind is absolutely blown.

Everybody thank @kilikina34512 for our latest Benji hijinx 😏 Enjoy! and thanks again for all the love 🫶🥰

Bucky joined both of you at "The Screamery" that following day. A themed ice cream shop you and Benji both love that is decked out in classic horror movies.

Benji ate what seemed like his weight in ice cream. You caved and bought him a banana split sundae which Dracula dropped off at your table in a sundae boat the size of Benji's head. Strawberry syrup was drizzled on top to look like blood and a fake candy eyeball took the place of the cherry on top. You knew it would be too much for him to eat all of it, but figured you can always bring the leftovers home.

Benji pointed out all the memorabilia around to Bucky, filling him in on both his personal favorites and yours.

After arriving back at the house, Bucky stuck around for a cup of coffee and this was the point where you royally fucked up.

It's now a few days after, reaching midweek.

"We've decided we're just going to be friends," you explained to Nora as you sat on your bed.

"What?? Why? Was this his decision or yours?" Nora stood in front of you with her hands on her hips.

"Well, both..? I think…"

"You think??"

"He didn't disagree."

"Y/N! Of course he didn't disagree if you decided you didn't want to be with him."

"It's not that I don't want to be with him. I do really like him. He has been nothing but super sweet and kind with our insanity."

"Yeah, it's always a real bummer when a super hot guy brings you flowers and enjoys hanging out with you and your family," Nora rolls her eyes.

"Yeah, I get it. I'm an idiot, okay?"

"Why are you self-destructing? I've seen the smile he gives you, are you kidding me? Smitten. Same goes for you."

"I don't know! I panicked. Holidays are coming up soon. I didn't want to drag him into more nonsense than we already have. We've probably been way over the top and too much for him to want to deal with. We practically kidnapped the guy over the weekend," you ramble on, "Plus what you said with the whole super hot thing. Like come on, how are those cheekbones and that jawline-"

"The eyes."

"The eyes! How is he even real? It's ridiculous."

"No, you're ridiculous. Please explain how the conversation happened, did he tell you this was too much?"

"Well, no…not exactly. We were just talking and my brain kind of went into this red alert mode and I started rambling like an idiot about how nice it has been hanging out and I vaguely remember saying something along the lines that we make a great couple of friends."

"Couple of friends?! Are you for real right now? Did you hit your head and not tell us? What the hell is wrong with you!"

"UGH!" you shout while slamming a pillow over your face.

Benji overhears the conversation from the hallway and shakes his head. Making sure both his mom and aunt were distracted with their conversation he grabs his hat and gloves, putting them on and then grabbing his jacket and tossing that on as well.

He does one more look back when he gets to the front door and quietly makes his way out, closing the door at a glacial speed so no noise would be detected.

Bucky was seated next to Sam at a local bar, beer in hand. Bucky explains what happened last with Y/n.

"I don't blame her for not being interested in me."

"C'mon man, that can't be it. You couldn't shut up about the great time you had bowling with her and how awesome her family and friends were. I was expecting a wedding invitation in the mail by now."

"Now you sound like the small one."

"Love that kid. He really is something else. I hope there's a video out there of him asking you to marry Y/n at that event. That was the best thing I've seen in years. Oh! Maybe I should give him my address so he knows where to mail my invitation," he grins, "We could also play the clip at your wedding."

Bucky glares over at him.

"Who am I kidding, your glare is right. He probably already knows my address. Y'think the kids gonna take this news of you just being friends well?" Sam asks.

Bucky's phone buzzes in his pocket. Pulling it out the screen lights up alerting a new call, listing an incoming call from NYPD.

What could the NYPD want? "Um, I'll be right back, I'm just gonna go-" he holds the phone up slightly and points towards the exit.

He answers as he walks to a quieter area, "Hello?"

"Hello, is this Sergeant Barnes?"

"Yes, is there something I can help with…?"

"We have a Benjamin Barnes here, he was found at Chestnut Park when he approached one of our officers. He said he got separated in a crowd and asked us to call you. Is this your nephew?"

"Yup," Bucky sighs, "That's my nephew, alright. Is his mom or aunt not with him?"

"No, sir. We checked the surrounding area but he wasn't able to spot them. Your phone number was the only one he could remember. Are you nearby to come collect him, or do you have an address we can bring him to? He wasn't sure what his address was either."

How convenient he didn't know his address or mom's phone number, but could probably rattle off all 50 states with their capitals if you asked him.

"I can come and get him."

"Officer Mills is with him now, they are near the east entrance of the park."

"Thanks." Bucky shook his head as he disconnected the call. Walking back over to the bar quickly to close his tab, "I gotta go," he tells Sam as he places cash on the bar.

"What's up? You need some help?"

"Small ones at it again, he must have heard something. Just got a call that my nephew, Benjamin Barnes, is at the park right now. He conveniently got separated from his mom and my phone number was the only one he knows," he answers with a knowing look.

"This kid deserves an award. Please can I come? I'm begging. I need to see this for myself."

"No." Bucky rolls his eyes, starting to walk out without another word. He holds his arm up to flag a cab.

Sam quickly tosses his own cash down and grabs his jacket, running to catch up with the super soldier.

"Are you going to call Y/n?" Sam asks as he finishes adjusting his jacket after he finally catches up.

"No, Sam. I thought I'd collect the kid and take him in as my own," he answers sarcastically, opening the door to the cab as it stopped in front of him.

"Well, he would probably be an excellent member of the team."

"We are not a team."

"Whatever you say, blue steel," Sam quickly opens the other side and slips in.

Once they're close enough Bucky spots Benji next to a hot dog vendor, chatting with the officer. Benji looks over and spots the two approaching through the crowd.

"Uncle Bucky!" He grins, looking over at the officer that was waiting with him, "My uncle is here, Officer Mills," he announces while pointing over at Bucky.

"Sorry for any trouble this might have caused. Thanks for having someone call and waiting with him," Bucky shakes the officer's hand.

"No problem, Sergeant Barnes. Glad to help. I was surprised when he said you were his uncle. Maybe you guys should start workin' on teachin' this guy his address and stickin' with his guardians in a crowd," Officer Mills instructs, looking down at Benji at the last part.

"Absolutely, I'm certain his parents will have a lot to say," Bucky answers, also giving Benji a pointed look.

After the officer walks away wishing them a good evening Bucky pulls out his phone.

"Alright, nephew, where is your mom?"

"She's at home…"

"And why are you not at home with her?"

"I thought it was a nice day for a walk…"

"Uh huh. Does she know you're out for a casual stroll on your own right now?"

"...Not so much…"

Bucky shakes his head and starts to open the contacts in his phone.

"Does anyone know you're out here?"

It was Benji's turn to shake his head.

Sam sits down against the ledge of the wall next to Benji. "You can't be out here walking by yourself, little man."

Bucky goes to tap on your contact, his eyebrow raising when he notices your name now seems to be under "Future Y/n Barnes 💌" with a photo of you laughing while eating ice cream he doesn't recall taking. He looks up at Benji with an eyebrow still raised.

Holding the phone up to his ear, it rings a few times before going to voicemail.

Bucky glares at the phone. He's about to start a text when the phone starts buzzing, "Future Y/n Barnes 💌" pops up on the screen with the ice cream shop photo on full display now.

"Hello, Y/n."

"Hey, Bucky…Sorry I just missed your call. What's up?"

"Do you happen to know where Benji is at the moment?"

"He's been in his room for a while, why do you ask?"

"You sure about that?" He questions while looking over at the roughly 4'2" boy in front of him that is currently in an animated conversation with Sam.

"Well, I was until you asked me that…his room has been blasting Party Rock Anthem for maybe half an hour now, but as far as I know he was in th-" Bucky hears loud music suddenly playing from your end and Y/n mutters a Benjamin under her breath, "Please tell me you have him."

"Well, not sure if he's achieved a cloning system, but I certainly have a close look-alike standing in front of me right now."

"That little punk... I'm so sorry, Bucky. Where are you? I'll come get him," he can hear you starting to rush around as the music shuts off.

"We can come to you, we're not far. We should be there in a few minutes."

"Thank you so much, Bucky. I really really appreciate it. I should probably go tell Nora her spawn escaped. Damnit, she's going to flip her lid… I'll see you soon."

"Tell her he's fine. Sam is with us too, we'll see you soon."

Bucky hangs up and joins the pair, "Alright, pal. We're dropping you back home. Your Aunt Y/n is expecting us now, and she's telling your mom about your Houdini act."

Benji's shoulders slump, "Do we have to?"

"Well, you kind of live there, and you're 8 years old. You can't be walking around by yourself. Especially without telling anyone. It's too dangerous out here by yourself, bud."

"I know, but I really needed to talk to you."

"What was so important you had to pull this stunt? You know my phone number," Bucky fixes another look at him while crossing his arms which sparks a small giggle from the boy.

"My tablet was charging and I didn't have a phone available.. I heard Aunt Y/n talking to my mom," he starts to explain looking ahead of them as they start their walk back.

"Okay?"

"Please don't give up on, Aunt Y/n."

"Not sure what you heard, pal? But we're still friends?"

"Friends is so lame! She didn't mean it. She said she panicked, but she really likes you. Even mentioned how um, handsome you were," he adjusts his answer with a side eye, "Also, she was worried we were too much for you. You don't think we're too much, do you?" He looks up at Bucky with a pout fully engaged.

"Well, Benjamin Barnes," he jokes, "I can't say you've been flying low under the radar here, pal. You certainly know how to make a statement," he ruffles his hair and puts his arm around his shoulders as they continue their walk.

Sam laughs and offers a fist bump to Benji.

Bucky continues, "But no, I wouldn't say you've all been too much. Just an adjustment. A nice one," he adds.

"You've managed to make robo-buck over here smile more than I've seen since I've known him," Sam comments. "Did you know when I met him, he ripped the steering wheel right out my car from my hands? Punched right through the windshield," Sam makes hand gestures to go along with the story. He and Bucky both glare at each other, Sam's has a smirk to his however.

"Whoa!" Benji shouts, "Can we try that with the car over there?! I wanna see!!"

Bucky huffs and pulls Benji along.

"Ignore everything Samuel says. Pretend he's not even here. I know I certainly do," Bucky mutters at the end.

"I was talking to.." Benji pauses, "Prudence.. about reincarnation. She says you knew Y/n in another life, but you never got together in that life, so your hearts are like puzzles with missing pieces and when you get together the puzzle will be complete. I know this because I'm younger and pure, so I'm more in touch with cosmic forces."

"Wait, puzzles, cosmic forces… Why does that sound familiar?" Sam asks, squinting ahead in thought.

"BENJAMIN DAVID RUSSELL!"

"Dang, full government name. Nice knowing you kid," Sam lets out a low whistle.

They were still about 5 houses back, the front steps to their destination visible up ahead. Nora stood outside their doorway with her arms crossed.

"Get your scrawny butt in here, right now!" Nora points to the door.

"Farewell fellas, it was nice knowin' ya," Benji sends a salute and a wave to the pair as he slowly walks the rest of the way ahead of them.

"Inside, let's go," Nora instructs, "Straight to your room. You'll notice your speakers are no longer in there and the door is left open, keep it that way."

"But mom!"

"Nope, I don't want to hear it right now. Inside, move it."

Benji disappears inside and up the stairs.

"Thank you so much for bringing him home," Nora greets Bucky with a tight hug.

"Hi, I'm Nora," she introduces herself to Sam, "Thank you so much, truly I appreciate it," she pulls Sam into a hug as well.

"Great meeting you, big fan of your kid. Probably not what you want to hear right now though."

"Ha. Yeah, never a dull moment around here. Please come in and join us for dinner. We have some lasagna that's about to come out of the oven. It's the absolute least I can do to thank you both. You can fill me in on what scheme he pulled this time."

"Oh, we wouldn'–"

Sam cuts Bucky off, "We would love to!" He slaps Bucky on the back and then gives him a slight shove forward towards the doorway.

Y/n hears more voices and walks into the living room from the kitchen to join them as they file in through the front door. Following the same steps Nora had done previously, you greet Bucky and Sam with a hug while thanking them.

"Food should be ready in about 10 minutes. You guys wanna grab a seat in the kitchen? I'll grab some drinks. Theo should be here any second, you can fill us in on the latest shenanigan," Nora sighs walking over towards the fridge.

"I need more stories on this kid. Has he always been like this? I'm a little offended he didn't ask me to be his uncle," Sam jokes following Nora into the kitchen.

Bucky looks over at you.

"Hi…" you offer a small wave.

"Hi," he smirks back.

"Should I be worried about what has come out of his mouth this time?"

His smirk stays as he places a quick kiss to your cheek and walks into the kitchen without further comment.

Your eyes widen, "Wait, where are you going?? Bucky! What did he say??"

The adults all sat at the kitchen table.

Theo arrived home right as Bucky started his explanation of getting a call from the NYPD to collect his nephew.

"I spoke to him quickly before I went to talk to Y/n earlier. I should have known something was up after the 5th Party Rock loop. It just kept going. I assumed he was working on a dance routine or something," Nora looked over to Theo.

"Never trust Party Rock Anthem," Theo shook his head solemnly.

"Party Rock was not in the house tonight," she answers with a deadpan tone.

"Everybody just wants a good time," Theo continues while standing up, "but he's definitely gon' make us lose our minds.."

"We just wanna see you - shake that," Nora points over at him.

"Ev'ry day I'm shuff-shufflin'." Theo dances over to the staircase, "Prisoner number 6-2-4, your gruel is ready!" He shouts up the stairway.

Benji speeds his way down, "Hiya Dad, how was your day? You're looking great today. New shirt?"

"Wow, only butt-kissing level 5? You've done better than that. Let's go, menace." He walks back into the kitchen

"It's wild here and I love it. Hey Buck, we could be brother-husbands! …Misterwives? Co-husbands??" Bucky glares at him, "We can workshop it later," Sam sends him a wink with a nudge.

Nora laughs while your cheeks heat up across from them.

"Can I show Bucky something upstairs?" Benji asks as everyone cleans up from dinner.

"In your room?" Nora asks, suspicious of more shenanigans.

"Uh, yeah…? Please! It'll be quick."

Benji grabs Bucky's hand and leads him up the stairs.

"This is my room," he points towards the open doorway leading to his room as they walk by, "but this is what I wanted to show you," he opens a door at the end of the hallway that leads to another set of stairs going up to the attic space.

"Ta-daaa!" Benji flips the switch at the top of the stairs, turning on the soft string lights set up around the room. A blanket fort with lights was set up surrounding the large plush sofa, various pillows and piles of soft and fluffy blankets scattered along both the sofa and the floor in front of it. Fake candles and lanterns dotted around the area. A large stack of movies rests on the floor next to an empty bowl labeled "popcorn" and a dusty bottle of wine.

A large projector screen was set up across from the sofa fort with lights also surrounding it, and in the middle was a projector on top of a tripod facing the screen.

"This is our movie hang out room. I made some additions to it. You and Aunt Y/n should have a movie night!" He grins up at the stunned brunette.

"Pal, this is… wow.. This is a really cool setup you have here..."

Two sets of footsteps joining them can be heard, "Benjamin if I come up here and you have Bucky locked up or something, I swear- whoa," you stop short and look around, "What's all this??"

"A movie night for you and Bucky!" Benji bounces up and down, arms out wide.

"What the shiiii-zz," Sam corrects himself in present company, "This is incredible. Now I'm really doubling down on misterwives. Does that popcorn machine over in the corner work??"

After a heavy back and forth debate, Benji somehow convinced Bucky to stay for a movie and Sam to come back another night for the next family movie marathon.

Benji had grabbed Sam's sleeve and tugged him to follow back downstairs.

"Will you sign my Captain America car Bucky got me? What's your favorite kind of car? Do you have a car or do you just use your wings? Can I see redwing next time??"

"Good luck, Sam!" You called down to him.

"Night lovebirds!"

You look over at Bucky, "I'm sorry for self-destructing the other night… I didn't want to overload you. There's been a lot of schemes by an 8 year old going on," you motion around you.

"Well, friend," he gives you a cheeky look, "with how hard Benji has been working on his schemes, your avoidance skills have been understandable. I don't blame you for not wanting to be with some well past his time grump like me that has a questionable history an-"

"That's not what I meant. I just wanted you to have your own choice in all of this. I know how persuasive that little punk can be. I feel bad we've essentially kidnapped you multiple times now."

"Not exactly kidnapping if I've been willingly showing up. I'll let you in on a secret though. When we walked out at the start of that event, I noticed both of you before Benji even walked up to ask his question. Benji was fidgeting, tugging at your sleeve and you- and your hair," he chuckles, tugging at a rogue brightly colored curl, "caught my attention almost immediately. Something was already pulling me to both of you before the schemes even began and I'm honored for whatever crazy reason it brought me here."

You hold your pinky up, "Promise you'll tell us if the crazy gets to be too much?"

He hooks his pinky around yours and tugs you in, his lips brushing against yours. You eagerly return his kiss, pushing up on your toes slightly to better reach.

Bucky pulls back and smirks, "Do your worst."

"Don't let him hear you say that," you laugh pulling him back in.

You both moved to the sofa as you looked over the stack of movies Benji set aside, "Of course…such a punk."

"What?" Bucky asks, trying to see the titles you were looking at.

"I really should have seen this one coming. There seems to be a theme going on here with his selections for us," you turn the stack towards him.

The Princess Bride,

Arsenic and Old Lace,

The Wedding Singer,

Corpse Bride,

My Big Fat Greek Wedding,

The Proposal,

Just Married,

The Wedding Planner,

27 Dresses,

Bride of Chucky,

and Shrek.

"Arsenic and Old Lace? Is this a wedding movie too?"

"Kind of? It starts with a couple from Brooklyn eloping at city hall. Mostly it's about two older aunts poisoning men and shoving them in their window seat…Fun times. The back says it's from 1944, have you heard of it?"

He shakes his head, "I shipped out in '43."

"Right. Well, one of my favorite lines from it is highly relatable. He goes I probably should have told you this before, but insanity runs in my family…it practically gallops. I should print that on a custom welcome mat for our front door," you laugh.

He holds up Shrek next, "and this one with the green guy…?"

"I actually think you'll enjoy the friendship between Shrek and Donkey in that one. Their banter reminds me of another pair you may know," you give him a side eye glance.

"He's friends with a donkey? What is the green guy supposed to be? He doesn't marry the donkey, right?"

"Yup, we're watching this one. Pass the popcorn bowl, pleease. I'll go fill it." You grin as you kiss his cheek.

(😉🧩❤️ did you catch the reference? ☝️)

If you have any diabolical ideas, my asks are open. If it sparks an idea you just might get lucky to see more 😏

Thanks again for your submission @kilikina34512 🥰

"I’m so in love already with Benji! I could see this boy somehow getting lost at the park and telling a police officer, “Can you call my Uncle instead of my mom? He’s the Winter Soldier!” and having Bucky come get him just to keep from getting in trouble with his mom! 😂"

Next: Part 5 Meddlingpunkitis

Taglist:

@pono-pura-vida @bitchy-bi-trash @random-writer-23 @jvanilly @clintsupremacy @eatingtheworldsoffanfiction @firstcashheroathlete @stany0url0calwh0res111 @sjsmith56 @eliwinchester99 @tbhidkbutok @babymady @shaking-a-jar-of-bees @its-daydreamer23 @capswife @thecubanator2 @wintermunsonreads @buckybarnessimpp @moon-light1928 @emily-roberts @jeanbarton @ilovetaquitosmmmm @lottiehernandez @tellenically @trixxietat @imdoingbetternow @maximoffrogersslut @samsgirl93 @lovebittenbyevans @inwhichiramble @jbuckybarnesfan @daemonslittlebitch @marvel88 @spiderman-stilinski @marvelfreakgirl @tinkerbelle67 @assassinscross @foolishwaitersblog @jasminex12 @buckysbaby-doll

#bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x reader #marvel fic #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #uncle buck fic

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sapphic-woes · 2 years

Text

Eivor x Fem!Reader - Merciful

A/N: So...first fic ever doing x reader, bear with me as I get the hang of this. In this, Eivor is injured and comes across a nun who helps her out. Minors DNI.

Word count: 4k. AO3 link

_______

Mercy. It was a virtue that was usually praised. However, when it came to you many said it would be your downfall.

“You’re too nice, too caring, too understanding. That's why everyone always uses you.” You knew that. It was easy to tell when a kind smile masked ill intentions, and yet you could never bring yourself not to lend a helping hand. For that was the duty of a nun, wasn’t it?

“Ugh…lady…” As you dropped the bucket of water you’d fetched from the river, you soon realized there were some good deeds even you found difficult to do.

It was a dane, one bloody and bruised, dragging himself…herself, up out of the river. It was a struggle not to scream, she looked like the devil himself with her war paint running down her face and blue eyes focused on your startled form. Even in her plight, she still managed to notice your instinctive step back, and her glare in response–as if daring you to call the guards–making it feel like it would be pointless to try.

“Please…” Only the second time she spoke did you fully register her voice–both its peculiar ruggedness and the fact that she spoke English–sending a shiver down your spine. Clearly, she was asking for help. But to help a dane?

You weren’t a fool. You lived in an abbey, and heathens loved to attack them. It was a risk you gladly took to serve the Lord, and you had been prepared to face death by the hands of a dane since the moment you became a nun. Now you were facing a dane alright, yet somehow the Lord was testing you with her imminent death rather than your own.

Do I let her live, or leave her to die? The choices led to two grim realities. Her death within the hour, or the abbey’s potential massacre within a few weeks' time.

You prayed to the Lord that the if of the latter would never become a reality.

She was heavy, stinking of dirt and blood. By the time you decided to save her, she had already passed out, leaving you to somehow drag her body to a suitable area. Luckily, being the pushover of the abbey had some perks. In your desperation to find solitude, you’d stumbled across a cave not far from the river and used it to rest from time to time.

Once there, you huffed, laying her down on the dirt floor as gently as your sore arms could. Then you were off to fetch a new bucket of water and medical aid, explaining poorly to the reverend that you were simply nursing an injured baby calf stuck in the woods. He thought it was useless work–but work no one other than you would do–so he let you go, and with haste, you returned to the dane.

Once you entered the cave again, you set to work. The bleeding had to stop and to stop the bleeding the wound needed to be located. Oh, you thought with a nervous gulp, her top will have to be removed...

Heat crept over your cheeks, but quickly you shook your head. This may be a dane, but she was a woman nonetheless. A woman exactly like you. There was nothing to be shy about, and it was confusing that you even were. With a deep breath you took the knife you brought, murmuring apologies to the unconscious heathen before cutting through her thick clothing.

Immediately, you realized she was certainly a woman…but her body was definitely not like yours.

If there was one word to describe it, it was hardened. Trained. Muscles rippled as she breathed, and tiny scars decorated her waist and chest. There was ink too, terrifyingly beautiful designs that made your heart hammer and nervously breathe out. You’d heard from rumors that the tattoos meant horrible things, like tallies of how many saxons they’d killed. What if I become one too? Again, panic seized your heart, and you found yourself trembling as you studied the wound she’d suffered.

Luckily, it was something treatable. With great care not to wake her (though you weren’t sure if it was out of fear or genuine concern) you patched her up, checking to see if there was anything else. There was a slash at her right leg, and you patched that one up as well, finally moving to clean the dirt from the rest of her body. Gently, you dragged a cloth across her chiseled face, marveling at her sharp jaw and long, pretty lashes. Perhaps she had looked intimidating before, but fast asleep she was clearly a thing of beauty.

You liked her straight nose and her eyebrows that seemed to grimace even in her sleep. You wondered what she’d look like when she was wide awake and not glowering at you. You wondered if her voice really was that low–or if her long journey only to end up passing out in the river was the cause. You were curious, and before you knew it, you were hovering less than an inch above her face.

Lord above. You held back a squeak, scrambling back. That was rude! Impolite and…odd of you. Very odd. For a moment you tried to register why you’d done such a thing, but you came up with no answer. All you knew for certain was that you felt warm all over, tingly as you watched the woman’s chest rise and fall. Somehow, just watching her breath was mesmerizing. Was it the devil in her making you so curious? You didn’t know–but you did know that the reverend would be expecting you back soon.

In more of a frenzy than you’d like to admit, you gathered your things and left, cheeks aflame as you rushed to escape whatever trap satan intended to use the dane with.

_______

It took a week for her to wake again.

In those days, the routine was fairly simple. Every day you went out to fetch water you’d take the time for a detour. There you’d clean her wounds and redress her bandages, leave fresh water and stolen borrowed leftovers just in case she’d wake. For the past week, the food rotted, and dust settled over the water. Today was no different, at least, when you first entered the cave it wasn’t.

She was lying as she always did, and you moved quickly. You only had so much time before the reverend, or anyone else for that matter grew suspicious. Despite everyone needing you, they did little to respect you as a person, becoming more of a lapdog than anything. You set down the bucket of water with a huff, arching your back to crack it with a groan. Who knew being a nun would require so much labor?

“It’s already been a week…maybe it’s exhaustion?” You murmured as you walked up to the sleeping dane, hovering a hand over her face. She was breathing, and her breaths were stronger than when she was usually asleep, though still steadily rhythmic. That was a good sign, right? You bit your bottom lip with worry, turning away.

To transport her bandages and other medical supplies, you tied them with rope in pouches to the side of your thighs, keeping them hidden under your long robe. At first, you felt ridiculous walking with them like that, but now it was like second nature. With little thought you hiked up your dress, untying the pouches carefully. That was when you glanced in front of you at the food you’d left before. A useless endeavor, but still you couldn’t help but check with hope…

…and see that it was all completely eaten.

You froze. One of the pouches you’d tried to quietly remove slipped from your hand. Glass jars full of healing salve shattered from within. You didn’t care.

No–you were more concerned with the eyes drilling into the back of your neck, trailing down the base of your spine…and finally, resting on your legs exposed to the chilly autumn air. You didn’t know whether to run or scream. You didn’t know if either choice mattered.

“Lady.” Her gruff voice made you jump, and suddenly you could move again. You spun on your heel, you scrambled back–two horrid decisions to make at once. Your balance abandoned you, and suddenly coarse skin gripped your hand, yanking you forward. You stumbled, letting out a startled cry as you fell onto your hands rather than your back.

You’d squeezed your eyes shut to brace for impact, but now as you tentatively fluttered them open, you didn’t recognize the bandages inches from your face. That is until they rocked up and down. An amused, albeit pained, voice rumbled from the depths of it.

“Lady, might you remove yourself from me?” Am I…staring at her chest? You moved faster than you ever had before, clambering off of the dane and then shuffling several feet back. She watched the entire display with a raised eyebrow, and her calmness in juxtaposition to your alarm only made you feel more embarrassed. You opened your mouth to speak, but the knot in your throat wouldn’t allow for more than another frightened noise. At that the heathen paused, shifting her gaze to think before focusing her gaze back on you.

“I…won’t hurt you. You saved my life, lady. It would have been easy to leave me there, or send out guards to end my suffering. Yet,” the dane waved her hand to the empty food and water, “you did all this instead. It would be foolish to repay my savior with violence, wouldn’t you think?” She was right, it would be foolish. However, you had been taught that danes were exactly that; tricked by the devil into wanting nothing but bloodshed. It would be foolish of you to immediately believe her words.

“T-thank you.” You tried to act as if you believed it, though from her frown she guessed you didn’t at all. You stayed frozen as she sighed, scratching the back of her head.

“I’m not saying that to be thanked. I’m just…telling you. Despite how you view me, you have helped me. For that I am grateful.” With that she attempted to rise, hissing out in pain. You gasped, stiffening with worry. She had just woken up or at least had in the last couple of hours. She had no business moving yet! Before you knew it you were on your feet, rushing over to stop her.

“Wait! Please don’t move, your wounds are still healing and you’ve just woken up. You must rest.” Regardless of how badly you trembled, you still spoke as firmly as you could. “You can’t do any harsh manual labor–like traveling to God knows where–until it’s safe!” That surprised the dane, eyebrows high on her face and mouth slightly agape. Slowly, her lips curved into a smirk, and she nodded, lying back down.

“You fear me, yet you give me orders?” Your cheeks reddened, and her sly smile widened. “Alright then, little lady…for a few days, I’ll rest my body for you. Is that satisfying?” For you rang like a sweet mantra in your head, and at your awkward nod the dane chuckled. It was a pleasant sound, making you wring your hands together and swallow nervously. You would have said more, but suddenly you heard your name being harshly called out, making the both of you jump.

“I–I must go now. No one else…knows. I didn’t think they’d take kindly to the idea of treating you.” That made the heathen's eyes darken with understanding, and she nodded.

“Go, the last thing I want is you to be punished for helping me.” Her voice had hardened just as it did the day you both met, though this time it didn’t scare you as much as before. It left you with a tight chest, and you didn’t trust your own voice to speak again properly. Quickly, you nodded, rushing out of the cave with warm skin and an ever growing heartbeat.

_______

Her name was Eivor, with some knowing her as Eivor the Wolf-kissed, you hoped it explained where the gaze came from.

You had felt it the day she’d woken up, and you had dismissed it as a look a warrior would give to their enemy. Calculating and intense, dragging down your body before rising back up to your eyes–you assumed as a saxon, she’d immediately seen you as her enemy and had reacted as such.

Now, you had no explanation for the heat in her stares, and it was starting to plague you.

Her promise of only days turned into another week with your insistent begging, and in that time period it became clear that walking into the cave was like walking into a wolf’s den. Each day that her wounds healed she grew stronger and more…overwhelming. In her teasing voice by your ear as you dressed her wounds, and in how when she sat with you, it was as if she was caging you in.

She spoke to you like a friend. An extremely caring one. She hated to see you exhausted after running around the abbey, angry they’d treat you more like a servant than an equal. Her hands would hold you close and urge you to rest in the safe embrace of her arms. It was nice, and you found yourself longing to go to the cave every day. However, you didn’t understand her actions. At first, you summed them up to culture, but her gaze told you otherwise.

There was something in those sapphire eyes, something enticingly dangerous, and it gleamed whenever your cheeks burned bright. It darkened when you bit your bottom lip with shyness, flickering over your heaving chest when her actions became too much for you to bear. Now, the tension in the air had shifted from one of fear to…curiosity. Need. But for what, you feared, would be your undoing.

“Little angel,” The raspy voice in your ear brought you out of your thoughts, “are you done?” You jumped, looking up to find Eivor’s face hovering above your own. It took everything in you not to marvel at it. She had a rough kind of beauty that made your insides squirm, and abruptly you looked down again.

“Yes! Right–apologies. I was lost in thought…” You finished fixing her bandages, fingers lingering over her toned abs. How are they so defined in the first place–large hands wrapped around your own, and with surprise you looked back up into Eivor’s concerned eyes.

“You’ve been odd lately. Listless. Is something bothering you?” You smiled softly. Despite her stern face, you’d soon learned that Eivor was incredibly soft. She was a warm soul, and from the stories she’d shared with you, someone who greatly cared about her family and friends. You shook your head.

“There’s nothing. Well, I don’t believe there is. I’m simply…confused, Eivor. May I ask,” you sucked in a fractured breath, unsure if you should continue. A calloused hand cupped your cheek, and unconsciously you shut your eyes to lean into the touch.

“What is it, love?” Again, she called you in a way that made your stomach burn and your heart swell. With a hushed whisper, you spoke your mind.

“Why do you…act this way with me? I do not understand. Is it custom for da–norse–to treat other women like…like…” You didn’t know how to say it, but Eivor didn’t need you to, humming softly.

“Like a husband would?” You breathed out in relief.

“Yes! Are norsewomen more intimate with one another than sax–” That made Eivor snort, sharply reigning in her laughter so only the corners of her lips twitched. However, at your puzzled stare she realized that hadn’t been some kind of joke, and her laughter completely left her. She opened her mouth, then closed it, and then eventually decided such innocence could only be met with a soft, but equal amount of bluntness.

“Little angel…I act this way because I have affection towards you. You are kind, albeit self-sacrificing.” What? You couldn’t believe the words she muttered, but her eyes held yours with such conviction that you knew it was true. You wanted to look away–her gaze was becoming more predacious with every second your cheeks burned brighter–yet you couldn’t, captivated as Eivor continued. “You shine like the sun, and I cannot help but think you are a gift from the gods…and in the future, if you would allow me, I would like to lie with you.”

She would…what? That had been the source of her looks this entire time. It wasn’t as someone assessing an enemy, nor pure curiosity. It was…lust. She wanted you, in ways you were sure you couldn’t imagine, and when you expected the feeling of disgust to wash over you, something worse happened.

All at once, it came barrelling over you. A tantalizing heat and debilitating fluster, aching across your skin as you struggled to say something, anything to discourage her words. The hand at your cheek was cruel. It burned like molten iron, doing nothing to help you think straight. Eivor wanted to lie with you, as a man would with a woman. To hold you in her arms, commit an act you had vowed under the eyes of God to abstain from–and while that should have made you wretch away from the woman, you couldn’t bring yourself to move.

Rather, you felt your core burn. Shame bubbled up inside of you, but so did the desire. From the beginning, you had wanted something from this woman. Before, you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. Now the answer was clear as day, burning over your heart.

“If I were to,” you had to pause, words too much to ask all at once, “to lie with you, Eivor. What…” you took the chance to glance up at her. Her gaze was like a crackle of lightning. It took your breath away and made you twitch with wanting. You found it took an effort to finish your question.

“What…would you do?” That was a mistake. There was hope in your voice you accidentally let slip through, and Eivor caught onto it. Those shapely lips twisted.

Once again, her sharp eyes dragged over you..but it was shameless this time. Devoid of the restraint and caution she’d had before. Now you shivered, because it was obvious now, painstakingly so, that from the moment Eivor met you, she’d wanted nothing more than to defile you.

_______

You were a mess, a whimpering, trembling mess, and Eivor wasn’t nearly done with you. She pulled away from between your breasts to catch her breath and admire her work. She’d left bite marks all over your chest, thighs, and waist, the indents of her teeth a pretty color across your tender skin. Your teary eyed, gasping face only spurred her on more, and she hummed as she leaned down to steal the heat from your lips, eliciting a moan from you.

Your precious gown, used to avert the eyes of men, was gone. Your veil was thrown away long ago. The autumn air bit at your skin, but regardless of the temperature around you, your body burned nonetheless. You felt one hand brush against your breast, sending a quivering through your spine as she rolled the bud between her fingers. Her other hand went further south, down to your unattended, dripping wetness.

She had been fiendish there before, suckling your thighs and kissing the skin between your legs and your heat, yet never there. No–not until you were gripping the hard muscles of her arms and practically begging, needy for relief. She might be one to tease, but Eivor wasn’t cruel–taking her fingers to grant you the pleasure you craved.

Her fingers brushed over your bud, and then she pressed down. It was gentle, yet firm, falling into a steady rhythm as she rubbed a tiny circle there. You gasped, nails digging into her arms. Soon you were overwhelmed with bliss, weak in the knees as your voice fell into sweet, keening sounds to her ears.

“That’s it,” the blonde said, voice gruff as she watched you whine, “keep letting me hear that beautiful voice angel.” Oh, did you obey that command, voice ringing out as if you’d become a bard just to sing of the pleasure she gave you. She pressed into your bundle of nerves more, never slowing down. You stammered, hands moving to cling to her back in desperation.

“I–I can’t…” Those sharp eyes were hazy now, glossed over as she took in your bruised lips and half-lidded eyes. Her hand circled your bud one last time before the pressure stopped, and immediately you let out a sound of dismay, trying to focus and ask why–but soon, you were given an answer.

“Oh–!” In one fluid motion, two thick fingers were plunged into your dewy folds, burying deep and making your back arch at the sudden fullness. Her fingers curled, and she took her time just as before, offering a steady, brutal rhythm. She wanted to leave you ruined, and it was working, bones turning to mush and overcome with sensual destruction.

Relentless, she pounded her fingers up to the knuckle. She knew what to do to leave you a puddle of fervent desire, skillful even as she grew more lustful herself. Watching you crumble from her digits stretching your heat was intoxicating, and you could see the carnal need in her eyes grow as she continued. Her tongue raked over her canines as she thrust particularly deep. You whimpered, body shaking uncontrollably, and the sight made her want to taste you, now more than ever. Without warning, she swiftly moved.

“E-Eivor!” All you could manage was to say the norse’s name with a fractured, desperate moan, squirming against her firm hands. They gripped your thighs and held them in place as she went down on you, indulging herself with the slick folds before her. She dragged her tongue upward, and you choked–your oversensitivity to her every action making your legs grow weak. She chuckled at your disoriented pleasure, and the vibrations of her voice against your folds were torturous. Eivor knew that, and she didn’t hesitate to use it, not bothering to pull away as she moaned against your heat.

You squirmed, bucking to push her tongue harder into you. She obliged, pressing deeper into your wetness and having her fill of your taste. Her nose routinely brushed against your bud, and it drove you wild, drowning in the sensations clawing at your core.

“I-I need, Eivor please–” how did a single question come to this? Now you were shamelessly begging the norse before you to have her way with you–as if she wasn’t already–lips forming over your bud. Oh God.

Your hands found their way into holding fistfuls of her blonde hair. She was calculated, devastating in her onslaught over your pearl. You were reduced to a bundle of mewls and hopeless clawing, throbbing against her tongue as she brought a mayhem of pleasure over you. It consumed you in a near terrifying way, eyes rolling as she continued to bring you to your peak.

“I can’t, d-don’t stop…!” It was the only warning you could utter before you were mindless, toes curling and hips rocking wildly. You choked back a sob as she continued to suck on your pearl even as you rode out your peak, only letting up when you completely slumped over. She kissed your twitching folds and inner thigh before she rose, gathering you in her arms.

“Little angel,” her chest rumbled at your back, textured hands pulling you into her lap. “Are you alright?” You were more than alright, nodding into the crook of her neck.

“I am. That was…um…” Despite having done all that, in the heat of the afterglow you felt your embarrassment creep back in. Eivor laughed.

“Good?” At your nod, she smiled, fingers brushing against the back of your neck. “I’m glad, I wanted to make sure you were comfortable…but it was hard to control myself once I saw that face.” The way she complimented you with ease made your stomach twist with butterflies once again, and it must have been evident on your face. Softly, a hand held your jaw where she wanted it, and Eivor kissed you slowly and sensually, pulling away just enough to whisper against your lips.

“Come back with me. I have a settlement–Raventhorpe–and I would care for you there. You wouldn’t be pushed around again, and your kindness would be honored, not used.” It was nearly said in a plea, hesitant as if the woman wasn’t sure what your answer would be. But you knew it from the moment she’d begun, heartwarming with joy.

“Yes,” you nodded so quickly it elicited a laugh from Eivor, adoring your enthusiasm, “I would love to, Eivor. If it means being with you…” Your fingers intertwined with hers, and you smiled wide, sharing in Eivor’s own giddy smile back.

“I’d go anywhere.”

#eivor varinsdóttir #female eivor #eivor x reader #f!eivor x reader #female eivor x reader #lady eivor #smut

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aerynwrites · 2 years

Text

Ruined

Vampire!Silco x Fem!Reader

Arcane Halloweek: Day 4 - Monster AU

A/N: I have been so excitedly sitting on this one shot for days now and I’m so happy to finally share with y’all. Also…I just Just of made up my own vampire rules so just ignore that lol. Hope you all enjoy!

Word Count: 4k

not beta read - apologies for any and all grammatical/spelling errors.

You should have known this was a stupid idea.

You should have known your mistake and consequent solution would come back to bite you in the ass. Just like every other time you try to go out of your way to appease everyone. Yet, here you are, suffering the consequences because some fucking assholes decided to jump you and the caravan on your way back to the Last Drop.

Sevika, Ran and the other goon with you had made quick work of most of them, their superhuman speed making them efficient in their jobs. However, a few of the thieves managed to get away with almost half of the supply.

The blood supply that keeps Silco from having to roam the lanes in search of food.

You can’t help but kick yourself, as you remember the damning words you uttered to Sevika in the aftermath when she asked what you were going to do. What you were going to tell the boss.

I’ll take care of it.

You might be one of the few humans in Silco’s employ, but you’re good at you’re job and you’re loyal - two things that lead to the right hand woman taking you at your word. Plus, it’s not like you lied.

You are taking care of it.

You’re just trying to take care of it with Silco being none the wiser. As far as he knows the pickup went off without a hitch, his blood supply being unaffected. If only due to some late night visits to Singed for blood draws to replace the missing product.

It felt like a great idea at the time - a simple, easy way to ensure the boss has what he needs without any needed stress. Except as the days wear on, everything starts to catch up with you.

Reports seem to pile up, your focus shifted as eyes droop with each written line. Thirum having to shake you awake at the bar when you drifted off mid conversation, brows furrowed in confusion. Your head pounds almost every morning, eyes foggy as they try to focus on the world around you. And on top of all of that, you’re fucking exhausted almost constantly. Arms and legs move slower, you can never seem to get fully warm.

And if Silco’s sidelong glances or frustrated sighs when he has to repeat himself for the hundredth time, say anything…He’s starting to notice that something is off.

A faint call of your name pulls you from your thoughts, bringing you back to the bustling bar of the Last Drop as a large hand settles on your shoulder. You turn and come face to face with Sevika, who’s looking at you with that all too familiar frustrated scowl.

“Didn’t you hear me the first dozen times I called your name?” she asks, casting a glance at your barely touched drink.

You shake your head, gesturing around you lazily, fatigue already setting in. “It’s loud.” you offer lamely, smirking when she rolls her eyes.

“Boss wants to see you.”

You sigh, “I already gave him my reports-”

Sevika cuts you off, practically hauling you off the barstool. “Now. And he didn’t seem keen on waiting.”

The tone of her voice is sobering, pushing your fatigue to the side as you look towards the stairs. You don’t offer Sevika any response other than a wary glance as you make your way to Silco’s office.

The stairs creak beneath your feet as you make the journey until you are outside the familiar door. Raising a hand to knock, your knuckles don’t even meet the surface before the familiar drawl of Silco’s voice stops you.

“Come in.”

Entering without hesitation, the door closes behind you as you make your way into the room, stopping just behind the chairs in front of his ornate desk. His chair is facing away from you, the smoke curling delicately over the top the only indication he’s sitting in it.

You clear your throat softly. “You…wanted to see me, sir?”

The chair turns to face you smoothly, teal and orange gaze settling on you as he takes a deep drag from the cigar at his lips before snuffing it out in an ashtray on his desk. His eyes never leave yours as he exhales slowly, the smoke enveloping you in a distinctive spicy aroma.

He must see the way your nose scrunches at the smell, never being one for cigars or the way they smell, a detail he’s picked up on in your years of service.

“A distinct smell, is it not?” His voice is like silk as it leaves his lips.

Brows furrowed at the random line of questioning, you nod slowly.

Taking a deep breath, he picks up the cigar once more, twirling it between long fingers as he studies it. “A distinct taste too,” he continues, “each cigar tastes different than the last. Some have a certain headiness about them while others are more delicate - sweeter, even.”

You shake your head, heart thumping nervously in your chest as you lose any idea of why you were called up here. “Boss, I don’t understand-”

“Blood is the same in that sense,” he says, cutting you off as he pulls open the top drawer in his desk, procuring something before placing it on the desktop. “Everyone’s blood tastes different. Not a single one is alike. Which is why-” he taps the object on the desk twice, “I know this shipment of blood is different from the rest.”

Your eyes fall to the desk and you feel your stomach drop through the floor. It’s a blood bag, just like the same ones that typically come in the shipments. But the only difference is the slight difference in the labels. You tried your best to replicate the labels on the typical bags, but you couldn’t perfect them.

This is one of the fillers you slipped in. It’s your blood that’s been emptied from that bag, and you can only hope he hasn’t connected the dots.

“If there’s an issue with the product I can talk to the supplier and see if they’ve made any changes,” you say, voice coming out weaker than you anticipated.

Silco regard’s you for a moment, before he slowly gets to his feet, eyes never leaving yours as he rounds the desk, that oh-so-familiar saunter sending a chill down your spine.

“Were there issues with the shipment?” He asks plainly, getting closer to you with each calculated step. “Because there are just a few too many coincidences for me to dismiss.”

He’s in front of you now, a mere foot away as he looks down at you, orange iris blazing as he starts a slow circle around you.

“The shipment was delayed, then the product differs vastly from those in the past, and at the same time as all of these discrepancies are occurring, one of my best employees starts to decline in health and their duties…”

You can’t find it in yourself to move as he stalks behind your back, breath fanning over your ear until he pauses just over your left shoulder.

The one thing that you could never seem to get used to with vampire’s, despite spending most of your time with them, was their lack of warmth. You almost expect to feel heat seeping into your back through your thin shirt, but all you feel is bone shilling coolness as he leans forward, lips brushing against your shoulder as he speaks.

“I have a theory,” he whispers, lips trialing ever so slowly upwards to rest just over your jugular, “and I'd like a chance to prove it.”

The faint scratch of unnaturally sharp canines against the delicate skin of your neck, makes your voice waver as you speak. “W-whatever you need.”

He chuckles darkly, and you feel ashamed of the excitement that shoots through you.

“Be careful what you so willingly offer.”

Before you can blink, a strong hand wraps around your wrist, spinning you until you are pressed up against the edge of the desk, trapped between Silco and the hardwood behind you. But that isn’t what sucks the break from your lungs.

No - it’s the glint of steel in the fading light of his office that has your breath leaving you in anxious pants.

This is it. You think, eyes instinctively clenching shut. He’s going to kill me for lying to him, for trying to cover up my mistake, for breaking his trust-

A sharp gasp leaves you as a stinging pain erupts across your fingertip. Eyes fly open only to see Silco tossing his knife onto the desk behind you as his dual colored gaze falls to the hand held between you.

Your hand. With one finger extended and a delicate pearl of blood bubbling to the surface. It feels as if you aren’t even breathing as he takes the digit into his mouth, tongue laving at the small wound. Contrary to what you imagined, his mouth is warm and tongue slick as it moves to collect every scrap of blood from your finger.

After what feels like an eternity but is probably just a mere moment, he pulls back licking his bottom lip thoughtfully before fixing his gaze back on you. He fixes you with that wicked smirk, the one that always makes your knees weak.

“It seems I was right,” he says simply. “I had a feeling something happened with the shipment, and in an effort to correct the accident, you filled the gaps with your own…supply.”

You go to speak, but Silco cuts you off just as you take a breath, leaning down ever closer to you, your noses brushing gently as he speaks. “I could taste the difference immediately. The regular supplier most likely supplements the blood with nutrients and other things and it makes it taste…bland, medicinal…” he trails down lower, nosing at your jaw, “lackluster.”

“But yours…” His breath makes your skin prickle and you can’t stop the shiver as he dips lower, lips brushing the spot just below your ear. “Your’s is different. Brighter, more vibrant, sweeter…” his words melt over your skin like warm honey, and you can’t find it in you to care when your hands come up and grip his arms for purchase as he continues.

“I had an idea of what you were doing right from the beginning, and as I kept drinking, kept tasting you, well…I couldn’t help but wonder what it tastes like directly from the source.”

As if to emphasize his point, he runs his tongue over the delicate skin above your jugular, and the words leave your lips before you can stop yourself.

“You can. I’d…I’d let you.”

The confession is a broken, desperate thing, but he must enjoy it if his bemused chuckle is anything to go by. You want nothing more than for him to do it, to take what you've been willingly giving him for days now. But to your confusion, and slight disappointment, he pulls away, eyes roaming your face.

“I know you would,” he reveals, lips ticking upward in that smirk once more at your shocked expression. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed. The way your heart speeds up in my presence, your stuttered breaths, dilated pupils…”

He pulls even further away then, reaching up to pull your hands away from him with a gentle grip, a drastic contrast to the delirious way he’s teasing you.

“As much as I desire to accept your offer…you’re weak,” he deapans, letting your arms fall to your sides once more. “This plan of yours has left you barely able to function, let alone let me feed from you.”

He sidesteps you gracefully, rounding the desk as you turn to follow his movements until he is back in the same position he was earlier. Sat in his chair with all the power in the world as he pulls a new cigar from inside his desk, snips the end off and lights it with calculated precision.

His eyes fall from you down to the scattered papers on his desk as he takes a deep inhale from the cigar before letting it out once more.

“Take the next few days to yourself. I expect you to be at full capacity before the next shipment.”

His words are a clear dismissal, and you have to stop yourself from physically reeling from the whiplash the last several moments have given you. But you don’t stay to ask questions, instead taking it for what it is.

The door to Silco’s office clicks shut behind you as you exit into the hallway, and your brain can only seem to focus on one thing.

What the fuck do you do now?

───── 𖥸 ─────

It’s been weeks since the shipment incident, and just about the same amount of time since your moment with Silco in his office, and his words haven’t stopped ringing in your head.

As much as I desire to accept your offer…

Sure the offer had been made in the moment but…you meant it. Years spent pining after your vampire boss had left you thinking about the idea more than once, and…

He didn’t outright refuse you. He just…deferred it to a later date.

At least, that’s what you’ve been telling yourself as you’ve tried to find a way to bring it up again in a casual way.

Initially you weren’t ever going to speak about it again - in fact, once you returned to work you had planned to pretend that the whole fiasco never happened. The new shipment came in without a hitch so things went back to normal.

…almost…

You have your energy back and you’re back to your old self, no longer missing meetings or dozing off at the bar. But Silco…something is different since you’ve come back from your mandatory recovery leave.

Your meetings with him to go over reports feel more…intimate. Before, you typically stood a few feet from the desk, rattling off numbers and important details while he looked at the papers. But now, it’s vastly different.

Now he invites you so sit in one of the chairs in front of his desk as you go over the reports. Oftentimes standing to pour you both a drink - another new addition - before taking his place in the empty seat beside you.

The first time it happened, it caught you off guard, stalling your speech as you looked over at the kingpin of the undercity who only lazily gestured at you to continue.

Once you gathered yourself again you had indeed continued, but you didn’t miss the way he leaned forward, elbows on his knees and leaving very little space between you as he read over the parchment in your hands.

Each time he’s so close you can smell the faint scent of his cologne and the spice of cigars on his breath when he mutters a question. And you swear a few times you even heard him take a deep breath just a little too close to be coincidental.

You also noticed that the blood supply is lasting him longer than usual, which means he’s either finding a supply elsewhere or just not using it.

Maybe he was so used to mine…he doesn’t like the taste of the other stuff now…

The thought is fleeting, and you try to shove it down before it takes root, but you can’t. It’s the only thing you can think about as you slowly ascend the stairs to Silco’s office, nerves alight with anxiety as you finally stand in front of the door.

What if he doesn’t want it? What if he laughs I’m your face and calls you out for the foolish child you feel like? What if-

“Quit lingering at the door like a wraith. Either come in or get back to work.”

The all too familiar voice meets your ears through the thick wood for the door, and you can’t stop the warmth that floods your cheeks.

The door is unlocked so you walk in easily, letting it click shut behind you as you step further into the room. Your eyes fall immediately to the man who’s been plaguing your thoughts.

He stands in front of the large window behind his desk, the light casting his office in a green hue and making him nothing but a silhouette against the backdrop.

Instinctively you shove your hands in the pockets of your jacket, trying to hide the way they shake as your nerves get the better of you.

Finally, Silco turns to face you, his orange eye bright and glowing against the darkness of his silhouette. It makes you shiver for an entirely other reason and that alone seems to give you the little courage you need to approach the desk.

His features make themselves out as you come closer, the light not distorting them as much, and you’re able to see the way he raises a brow just as he lowers a cigar from his lips. He makes a point to blow the smoke away from you, and you silently appreciate the small gesture, licking your lips as you try to find the words you want to say.

However, Silco beats you to it, voice smooth as he speaks.

“If you have something to say…say it.” He says bluntly, eyes locked onto you.

So he knows. Or…at least has an idea.

Pulling your hands from your pockets, you clasp them in front of you, trying to appear more confident than you feel.

“I just noticed that the new supply might not be up to your…standards. And I just - wanted to let you know that my…my offer is still on the table.”

Your last words come out in a whisper, confidence slipping away from you the longer you hold Silco’s unrelenting gaze.

The suggestion sounds pathetic when you say it out loud, and you’re ready to take it all back to tuck tail and run when a chuckle meets your ears.

It’s the same as the ones he gave you last time, dark, humorless - but not cruel or demeaning. Just like he’s privy to a joke you don’t understand, an irony you can’t fully comprehend.

And as he stalks from behind the desk, snuffing out his cigar on the way, you find that your eyes never leave him. Not even when he comes to stand almost toe to toe with you, that damn cologne tickling your nose and making your eyes flutter as he leans in closer.

“Do you have any idea what you’re offering me?” He asks, voice genuine, as if he truly wants you to rethink your precious gift.

But you have thought about it. Thought about the possibilities, what could go wrong, and what could go so mind-nubmingly right.

You just hope this will fall under the latter.

You give him a small but firm nod, voice not wavering as you speak. “I do. And…It’s yours. I-If you want it.”

The breath of air he releases is one of relief, you can practically feel the way he sags into your space, nosing your jaw as hands ghost up your sides.

“Oh, my dear…” Breath fans over your ear sending shivers down your spine. “You have no idea how much I’ve craved it.”

You don’t know what you were expecting. Part of you was expecting him to take you right there, teeth plunging into your neck unceremoniously to drink directly from the source like he wanted. Part of you maybe expected him to be a touch softer, walking you through it before sharp canines pierce delicate skin.

But you never expected a kiss.

Never expected cool lips pressed against yours with a ferocity only intimate lovers possess. Never expected the feeling of his tongue running across the seam of your lips or granting him access as easily as you draw breath.

He hums lowly into you, and you can feel the vibrations from within his chest as he wraps strong arms around you to pull you impossibly closer against him. Fingers press greedily into your sides as he guides you backwards and you don’t even have the wherewithal to wonder where he’s taking you.

Only when he turns you both with incredible grace and sinks down onto the plush velvet of the sofa does it register, and by then you’re already in his lap and too far gone to care.

He breaks the kiss as soon as you slide onto his legs, thighs straddling his own as lips trail from your mouth to your cheek, then lower.

“Do you have any idea what you’ve done to me?” He husks, voice like broken gravel as he nips at the edge of your jaw, those impossibly sharp fangs scratching teasingly.

“You’ve ruined me. You gave me a taste and it’s made everything else taste like the toxins swimming in the river Pilt.” He’s at your neck now, teasing, nipping, tongue laving out to soothe the little bites. “Bitter, acidic, bland-“ he takes a deep inhale as he nuzzles into you, and you can feel the way his lashes flutter against your skin. “Nothing like this, like the divine ichor that seems to run through your veins-“

“Silco, please.”

Those two words. The utterance of his name and the way you beg so sweetly are his undoing. They are enough to snap the thin little thread of control he still had and allows him to finally take what he’s so desperately wanted for longer than he can remember.

The pain is both as intense and yet, lesser than you had thought it to be. It’s a piercing, searing heat that flows from your neck to your fingertips where they grasp for purchase in his fine silk vest. Yet the ecstasy that courses through you moments after is enough to overwhelm all else.

It’s…strange. But it feels good. With each languid pull, each pass of his tongue over your skin, the way his arms tighten around you, crushing you to him as he feasts - it all makes the heat in your belly burn brighter.

He groans against you as he drinks, pressing harder against you as if that will somehow make the blood come forth faster, nose digging into your shoulder as one hand comes up to tangle in your hair as you nuzzle into his own neck.

It feels like an eternity when he practically rips himself from you with a grunt of effort. Pressing one last kiss the delicate skin which stops the gentle flow of crimson. You were just beginning to feel the telltale signs of fatigue, sleep tugging gently at your eyes when cool hands come up to cradle your face.

You’re pulled from your place on his shoulder gently, and brought up only so caring eyes can look you over. The teal iris, the one so many seem to overlook, is eclipsed by the black of his pupil, hunger still present in his gaze.

There’s still the faintest hint of red on his lips, one corner darker than the rest - and you can’t help but reach up to wipe at it. It’s the first time you’ve truly touched him throughout all this, the first time he’s ever let you touch him. So, you try to commit it to memory. The way the scars marring his upper lip feel beneath your thumb as you wipe gently at the blood left there.

Without thought, his tongue peaks out to wipe up the excess, brushing against the pad of your finger before retreating once more as he reaches up to take your hand in his own.

You’re momentarily struck by the gentleness of his actions, the way his brow seems to draw together in concern. Which is why you can’t fathom why the words spill from your lips.

“So, was it better directly from the source?” You ask, voice soft and bringing a rare half smile to the man’s lips.

He nods. “As I said,” he begins, leaning in so lips ghost over your own, and you can almost taste the metallic tang on his breath.

“You’ve ruined me.”

#arcanehalloweek22 #silco x reader #arcane silco x reader #arcane x reader #arcane silco #silco #arcane

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devieuls · 1 year

Text

I’ve always been there for you. part.II

Childe (Tartaglia) x Fem Reader ¡smut!

Warning : Smut 18+ MDNI; Childe Dom! ; unprotected and rude sex; dirty talk; threats; slaps; spit; bites; hickeys; punishments; blood; voyeurism; power play; teasing; choking, jealousy and possessiveness; pseudo-toxic relationship; violent foreplay; BDSM.

Reader with Cryo vision.

Synopsis : You are the only daughter of the Tsaritsa of Snezhnaya, heir to the throne and general of the nation. The diamond of that place characterized by the eternal winter, loved by the people and adored for the angelic but fierce facade that you show. The only person with whom this mask fell is your secret lover, the one who manages to make you forget your duties with a touch and takes you to heaven whenever you end up in bed together. Your relationship was reserved for the bedroom, although you liked to tease him in public, as the 11th Harbinger was also your personal guard.

Everything was great and perfect... until one day your game was pushed too far, breaking the thin thread that gave you so much stability. Appearances were deceiving, and everything you thought you had under control suddenly hit you, dropping that house of cards you built for fun.

Length : 4k

Notes: In the story there will be some slightly violent or excessively harsh parts from the reader or Childe himself, read the warnings to better understand what it is. It’s a mini series, I hope you like it.

OH, CLICK HERE TO SEE WHAT YOU'LL WEAR IN THE MEETING!

Part 1 ; Part 2 ; Part 3 ; Part 4 END

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Still furious you headed to the part of the castle reserved for each of the Harbingers, who had a wing each to be always available for the Tsarina.

Once you got to Childe’s part, you walked into his room without even knocking, locking it behind you.

< y/n, what’s goin-? > You stopped him before he could finish the sentence, rushing to his lips, looking for an effective and productive way to release anger.

The kiss from the beginning was eager and wet, your lips were sought with breathlessness and lust. Your hands slipped on his jacket, taking it off easily and then immediately climbing on his shirt, going to unbutton it with enthusiasm. You made the red-boy back up to the bed, making him sit on the edge and straddling on him, not sticking out of the kiss until he completely lost his breath. Childe bit his lip and threw his head back when you sank your teeth and lips on his neck, then hands on your body, releasing the cloak that was part of the uniform.

His hand climbed up your neck and then ended up in the middle of your hair, squeezing between your fingers and then in a vise a handful of your hair, giving a slight tug so as to tear you away from him. You growled at him because of the pull of your hair, getting a growl from him and a cold but lustful look.

Your hand swiftly wrapped around his neck, squeezing the grip, making a slight pressure; take him to the mattress, opening his shirt totally, accidentally blowing a few buttons. The red pushed you against him again thanks to the grip that he had managed to recover in your hair; he unhooked the hooks that held the shoes tightly, taking them off with ease. He again carried his lips on yours, finding the same hungry rhythm as before, going to suck and bite your lip.

Your hand tightened more against his neck, causing the boy to gasp in your mouth and a subsequent smug smile.

< Squeeze more, baby, I like it. > He said between your lips with a mischievous and irreverent tone, playing with you and with the fact that you would never go to tighten to such an extent to really suffocate him.

You smiled keeping away from the kiss, trying to get away slightly, if it wasn’t for the firm grip in your hair that forced you to stand still over the boy. Maybe a little anger had gone, but how could you be angry if you were in your lover’s bedroom.

You said leaning towards him, whispering his title on his lips, knowing how it lit up well when you said it, especially if in a context like this.

Her blue eyes became completely clouded by lust, pulling more of your hair, making you meow from the pleasant pain you were feeling. Your hand slid purposely into his pants, undoing his belt, then clutching his already hard package, he panted and then watching the way your hand groped his needy cock. < someone is already ready for me > you said mumbling.

He pulled your hand out of his pants and quickly changed your positions, slamming you under him and locking your hand over your head, also taking the one around his neck and joining it to the other. < oh, don’t play like that with me, baby. You might regret > he answered with a hoarse and deep voice.

He carried his face on your neck, sniffing it before leaving a painful bite from which a slight trickle of blood came out that he promptly sucked, making you moan obscenely.

You shook your hands in your fists as you felt Childe’s free hand slip into your pants, pleasantly feeling the absence of your underwear, which led to him squeezing your intimacy with three fingers, pinching it and making you tremble and groan.

< Well, well well... the fearsome princess of Snezhnaya moaning like a whore under her subordinate > he said taking you down, bringing two fingers down to the clitoris, where she began to pinch and massage.

Your hips moved left and right and then pushed closer to his gloved hands. There were very few things that could make you horny, but Ajax’s gloved hand while masturbating was something idyllic. Your body was arched on the mattress, trembling as it produced pornographic moans due to overstimulation.

The boy observed your reactions satisfied as his fingers got wet because of your moods, pressing on your hole with one finger, threatening to penetrate you, slowly following the line of the edges. You bit your lip as hard as you could, started drooling like any whore, pushing your pelvis against him, hoping that this would make him enter your teeth to please you.

< Not so fast, ma'am. You walked into my room without permission, you threw yourself at me without even giving me an explanation... what a naughty girl, should I reward you for your behavior? > His fingers pinched and pulled your pulsating clit, making you moan again and roll your eyes back. Even though you had the boy right the night before, you’d never get tired of feeling so rough with yourself

< Why not, sir? > You said defiantly, grinning as you held your head back. Hearing the sound of his smile against the already sensitive skin of the neck, feeling little chills climb on your body.

Archons, he liked as fuck to hear you so disrespectful to him, because then he would have had a valid reason to be more rude to you.

Childe left another bite on your skin, taking your breath away from the surprise. < mhmh, how about I take my hand out of here ? > He said by removing your hand from your intimacy and then lowering your pants completely, then detaching from you and releasing the grip on your wrists. < You’re gonna have to make it up to me, baby. > He said with a mischievous smile, then opened your legs in front of him, taking one of your hands and carrying it on your own intimacy.

He said seriously, backing up until he sat in the chair that was not far from the bed but in front of it.

He crouched with his legs open, leaning his elbow on an armrest and then a temple on his fist, waiting for you to start touching in front of him. This one was really new to you, you never masturbated in front of him, and it embarrassed you a little bit, and he knew that, so he made a request like that.

You have brought your fingers to your red and swollen clitoris, beginning to give it attention and massaging it slowly already experiencing chills and breathlessness in the chest, leaving some soft, almost meowing moans. You have gradually speeded up the movements of the fingers, bringing the free hand to attend to the obscene and strong moans that you were leaving because of the pleasures, panting on the name of the boy who looked at you with longing.

You sobbed his name a couple of times before he ordered you not to cover your mouth, making you carry a hand in the sheets you squeezed with hope of easing the sweet pain of pleasure.

The predatory look of the boy watched as the folds of your intimacy moved at your touch, dripping on your red silk sheets; he watched as your body agitated and bent as you called his exasperated and needy name, The showy skin on your legs and how they trembled once you swallowed two fingers inside of you. His pants became tighter and tighter as he listened to you sobbing his name, begging him to come and keep on coming.

You felt like a total slut touching you in front of him in that way, letting him watch and study every little movement, listening to how you whined about his name in need of contact with him and enjoying seeing you so fragile and naked in front of him. Maybe he would propose something similar in the future, he was loving that version of you, so shameless and desperate for his dick.

You stopped the movements of your hand when you felt the presence of the boy standing in front of the bed, after all, sneaking around was one of his skills but you would have preferred to hear him first. Childe grinned bitterly but at the same time mischievous, looking down upon your face.

< Did I say "stop" ? > he growled and laid a hand on your neck, squeezed it slightly. < Is't so hard to be a good whore for me? Do I have to be meaner with you? > He went on, and then slapped your vagina, making you moan deeply, shivering. < You must have pissed me off today, didn’t you? > His voice was low and deep as she slammed a second slap into your intimacy. < my bad, I should have educated better a rebellious kitten like you. But you could be such a good kitty, right? > He cocluse by rolling up the sleeves of the shirt on his arms, putting on gloves later.

< maybe I don’t want to be. I know you like it when I’m mean > you answered brazenly.

He took you from your hips after sitting on the edge of the bed, settling with his belly against his thighs, taking off the shirt you were wearing and then stroking your bare back, passing a finger along your spine, causing you little chills. You took a deep breath before sucking on his gloved fingers at his command, mumbling slightly as you felt it in your mouth. < such a good kitten, so good... Go on, baby. > He whispered. You kept sucking and licking his fingers until he took them out of your mouth to enter sharply inside you, making you scream and stick your nails into his thigh. < Aw, if only you could see how pretty your face is drooling over my fingers like a sweet bitch. >

His fingers pumped fast in and out, hitting some spots he knew were sensitive to you, causing you to pant and groan shamefully against his thigh, blushing for strong pleasure. Childe let out a laugh at your reactions, which made you blush more, beginning to drool once he began to alternate some slaps on your intimacy with the fingers pumping.

The pleasure was too much, you felt the blood crashing on your lower abdomen concentrating the pleasure right where the boy was cutting. He came out of your intimacy and struck a couple of times your buttocks, letting slip disparaging words and totally non-royal titles. You bent your back trying to get up from this position that was becoming uncomfortable and painful, receiving the boy’s hand on your back, pushing it down to lock yourself in that position < You'll not get up from here until I feel satisfied. I’m not done with you yet. > He said leaving a bite on your shoulder and then licking the mark with satisfaction.

You kept moaning at every gloved slap against you, meowing to try to recover some air in your lungs. Your drool soaked his pants as you felt his cock pounding against your stomach for the excitement of punishing you. He entered you again, pumping harder and faster than before, until you come up with a loud orgasm, calling his name. He took you by the hair, pulling you towards him, making your sore back arch. < Just because you cum don’t think I’m satisfied. > He said licking your neck smiling, then throwing you on his mattress, licking his fingers full of your moods, moaning with pleasure in feeling the sweetness of the liquid.

He took off the gloves with his teeth and then completely removed his shirt and pants, observing your exhausted and panting body on the bed, approaching you and pulling you to him by the legs. You bite your lip before leaning over you going to leave wet kisses and hickeys on your belly, and then end up on your breast, beginning it to suck and bite rough.

One of your hands crashed into your mouth, trying to take care of the sharp sound of your desperate moans, weeping quietly. The other hand ended up in the boy’s soft hair, pulling some strands when he sucked too hard or bit. After several minutes, Childe gave a respite to your over-stimulated nipples, recreating a wet river between your legs.

He came down between your legs, kissing your inner thigh until he got to your intimacy, blowing on it to give you more chills. < Do you want me, baby? > he said leaving a kiss right between the separation of the thigh and vagina, making you pant slightly. < Tell me. How much do you want me? > He kept teasing you. In other circumstances, you wouldn’t stoop to his little games so easily, but you needed it.

Your dangerous game in the meeting, the argument with Regrator, Childe in THAT uniform, and his being so rough in bed, only increased your libido. You needed Childe, every little part of you screamed his name, wanted it, needed it.

You said panting, hoping that this would be enough to convince him, but you would have lied to yourself in actually thinking it. He loved to destroy your power under him, totally nullifying your title and making you subject to his will, and that was what always brought you back to him.

< So pretty, you can do better. Beg me, baby. Let me hear how fucking you want me. > he licked the point that just before he was just kissing, and then massage the outer thigh with his hands, groping it with possession.

< Please, I crave you... I’m begging you, Sir. > Your words were meowing and gasping for the sensitive point he was playing with. Childe went completely on to hear that nickname, you knew it made him particularly hot and that’s why you used it to get what you wanted.

The boy moved away from your legs and stood up, taking off his pants with a speed never seen before, coming back above you and not hesitating a second to to enter you to the bottom. You opened your eyes wide, letting a scream followed by a groan come out of your mouth; your body arched again, while your hands clung to the sheets, clutching them between your fingers while some tear of pleasure came out of your eyes, closing them later. He didn’t even give you time to get used to it that he began to suck his sore dick inside you, took your face with one hand and tightened his grip on the jaw. < Look at me. You wanted me so much until now, what’s up? Princess, you can’t stand all this? > He said growling at you, then moaning because of your walls closing around him.

You opened your eyes to look at him, letting out of your mouth some curses for the pleasure he was giving you as he pulsed against your walls and pushed deeper and deeper. Your vision was a little blurry from the tears coming out of you, which made the boy inside you harder.

< Look at you, so pretty when you cry for my dick. > He said and then left a wet kiss on your lips, licking your tears later, narrowly increasing the intensity of the thrusts.

His hand wrapped around your neck, choking some of your moans and whimpers. Your eyes looked at him with irreverence and lust, you wished he would go stronger with you, you needed to feel him to the last, to focus your anger and libido on something. Between one push and the other his grip on your neck tightened making you moan and roll your eyes back, panting < more... > with a broken voice, continuing to cry on his sheets making him enjoy.

< You want more, baby? Okay. > He said smirking and then yanking your hair and leaving a slap on your face, not too painful, but you liked this. He had never gone so far with hair pulled, making you cry, choke and slap but you didn’t mind all this now.

You left a liberating moan when it totally entered you, hitting your most sensitive spot, leaving a slap on your breast and pulling your hair again, pushing harder and harder. Maybe it hurt a little, but you didn’t care, it was a pain that could be endured if he gave you the best cum shot of your life. The nails ended up scratching and clinging to his shoulders, cutting his back a little too, causing the boy to groan hoarsely.

He held you by the neck as he gave the last rough thrusts inside you, making you cum with a spray on his still hard dick but close to orgasm too. You missed your breath after the strong orgasm, gasping for air as the guy kept pumping in and out of you and then reaching orgasm too with a loud and deep moan, slightly growling. You carried your hands on his neck and shoved it against your lips, beginning yet another wet kiss, as the boy’s hands moved to hold himself.

< If I had known that coming to your room would have meant this, I would have walked into this room years ago > You said laughing on his lips, and then moved the boy to the side and dragged you over him, sitting astride on his belly. You left some sweet kisses on his chest and then on his neck. you whispered.

< And I thought I was exaggerating... > He laughed back. He counted, laying his hands on your hips.

< You stopped the presence of my mother, may I never see what we do. > You responded by laughing while leaving a bite on his neck. you received a small spanking after what you had said, remembering how devoted your lover was to your mother.

< You are without rules... You know what I risk in doing all this > He sighed heavily.

< But we like the risk, the thrill of being discovered. I don’t think you ever felt sorry for possessing me, at least not after all these years > You snorted and then dropped on the mattress.

he said approaching him, caressing your naked skin. < But you know that I have duties towards the Tsarina, don't be angry for this >

You turned to him, and then wrapped the bravvia around his neck. < Mh, I don’t like my mother’s power over you. The only one who should command you that way should be me. I’m jealous. > You grumbled with a soft pout.

< Mh.. but you have more power than her, I am totally yours. You know who should be really jealous ? Me. You sent me away with the others to stay with another Harbinger, I feel offended > He said moving some locks behind your ear.

You sighed, you hated to think back to that moment, knowing it was your big mistake. If you had talked to Childe about what happened, there would have been nothing in the world, not even the Tsarina herself, to stop him from killing his comrade. You knew your lover’s levels of jealousy, and that was enough to know when it was best to lie.

You said and then wring his cheeks < You’re so cute when you get jealous > You giggled and then you printed a kiss on his lips.

Childe snorted and kissed me back < Something I understand too... > He said grumbling.

< Ah, yes? You know about accounting and financial systems? > You asked mocking him, only to find his face in the hollow of your neck.

< A little, yes... I would learn more if it takes to stay more time with you > He whispered. < We don't train together for a long time... I am always traveling and I thought there was something with him > He said with a slight tone of concern in the voice.

You held your arms around her neck, laying your face over her head, looking sad and lost. You wanted to tell him, you didn’t like keeping secrets from him, but that was also to preserve his safety. < You’re the only one... I would never replace you with anyone. > Your voice was sweet and delicate as you were held in his arms.

< Don’t say it... one day you'll have to get married and you will not be mine anymore. You'll replace me and you forget me > He said bitterly. < That’s why I want to keep you to myself as much as possible. >

You swallowed and then sighed. < What if I married you? >

< The Tsarina cannot marry a Harbinger, is inconvenient and would not accumulate the force of the ruler. The Tsaritsa would never allow your marriage, especially if it is with me. > he responded by caressing your back.

< Pity, you would be sexy dressed as a King at my side... so sexy > You said laughing to break the tension in the air, trying to avoid the harsh reality.

< Sexy? I could make you scream for hours in the throne room and shout my name in the bedroom, without the fear of being discovered > He answered laughing too.

< Not that I’d mind... that would be nice, at least I’d have a good reason to kill all those sluts who hit on you. Even if I don’t say it, you belong to me. And I know you’re flirting with that traveler. Oh, Archons. if I find out you’re sleeping with her in my absence, I swear my mother’s torture would be your salvation. > You said playing with a lock of her hair, curling it around your finger.

< She’s not nearly as beautiful as you, because betraying you to a stranger. I’m totally yours. > He responded promptly.

< Swear. Swear to me that you are mine and that you belong to me.> Your voice was colder and more decisive.

Childe looked at you sincerely and then sighed.

253 notes · View notes

bokatan · 1 year

Text

Fallout 4 Mods List

Hello! Here is a full list of recommended mods that I’m either currently using or have used in the past. There may be required mods for some of these that I didn’t list - make sure to check these while you’re installing.

Visual/Environmental

Vivid Fallout

NAC X

The Fungal Forest

Grasslands

Grass Reworked

Wasteland Illumination

FAR - Faraway Area Reform

Glowing Animals Emit Light

Brighter Settlements

CROSS Crit Gore-verhaul

Enhanced Lights and FX

Illuminated Billboards and Posters

Mutant Menagerie

Wasteland Illumination

Crows and Creatures

Retextures/Miscellaneous

FlaconOil’s Complete Retexture Project: this looks amazing but it can be a bit heavy, I wouldn’t recommend if you’re concerned about PC performance

PTSD Mental Health Management System

Smokable Cigars/Cigarettes/Joints

Enhanced Blood Textures

The Nuka Project

Destroyed Pip-Boy Screen

Pip-Boy 4K HD

Eyewear and Mask Retexture

NPCs Travel

Wetness Shader Fix

SKK Fast Start New Game

SKK Fast Start Location

Immersive Facial Animations Remade

Lowered Weapons

Eye Normal Map Fix

Manly Crouching

Name and Trade with Dogs

No More Floating Razorgrain

Pet Any Dog

Recruit Scribe Haylen as a Settler

The Walking Ghoul

Rich Merchants

We Are The Minutemen

Workshop Spotlight Fix

Nuanced Eye Reflection

Scary Clown Monkey Trap HD

Where Are My Provisioners?

Clearer Glasses

Better Shaped Male Heavy Combat Armor

SavrenX Detailed Hair

Commonwealth Cuts - Vanilla Match Retextures

Expressive Expressions

Femshepping’s AE Armor Mod Patches

Hair Tones Redux - Hair Color Overhaul

Lip Color Blemish Tweak

Interface

Extended Dialogue Interface

VIS-G Item Sorting

Buffout 4

Full Dialogue Interface

Main Quest Choices Extended

Mod Configuration Menu

Survival Options

This Settlement Does Not Need Your Help

Workshop Framework

Audio

Immersive Squeaky Doors

Immersive Pip-Boy Radio

More Where That Came From - Diamond City Radio

Not Great Not Terrible - Scarier Geiger Counter Sounds

Jolly Item Sounds

Dynamic Music Overhaul

P.A.M.S. - Power Armor Movement Sounds

Travis’ Terrific Tips

Radiant Birds

Muffled Helmets

Immersive Nail Trim for Dogmeat

Companions

Unique Player and Followers Redux

Better Companions

Sable Dogmeat

Amazing Follower Tweaks

Danse Wear Your Helmet

This will affect how he acts outside of power armor, he’ll change outfits repeatedly. It’s fine if you keep him in his vanilla outfit but it gets annoying if he has custom outfits

Danse GTFO Power Armor

I saw someone refer to this mod as a giant can opener and that has been stuck in my brain since

The Danse Dilemma

Danse No X-01

Valentine Reborn

Truly Unique Nick: You’ll probably need this to get Valentine Reborn to work

Classic Dogmeat AKA Pirate

Nora Spouse Companion

Crafting

Armor and Weapon Keywords Community Resource - AWKCR

AWKCR-Grind Free: strongly recommended unless you love suffering and want to have to unlock all customization options

Lost AWKCR VIS-G Patches: Also strongly recommended, AWKCR on its own is very outdated and this fixes all of the main issues I had with it

Armorsmith Extended

Books, Burned Magazines, Folders, Napkins, and Subway Tokens Give Materials

Building Materials Dispenser

Accuracy International AX50 Anti-Materiel Rifle

Screenshots & Posing

FO4 Photo Mode

Screen Archer Menu: please note that this does require other mods - it’s user friendly and works well, but you will need to install a few mods from various sites aside from nexus

Animal Posing Framework

Male Eye Candy Poses

Stop Drop Pose

Thrax’s Action Poses

UPC - Unisex Pose Collection

Character Presets/Replacements

Army Rookie - Young Nate

Glamorous Magnolia

Maxson Gets a Shower and a Shave

Locke’s Soft Danse

Locke’s Detailed Piper

Locke’s Merciless Fahrenheit

Locke’s Ruthless Glory Locke’s Fresh Deacon

Locke’s HD MacCready

Picturesque Presets

Interesting Bunch Presets

Character Customization

Looksmenu

Looksmenu Customization Compendium: This mod can be finicky, keep it at the bottom of your load order

Top Surgery Scars Overlay

Ace Male Face Texture

Refined Male Head Mesh

Commonwealth Cuts

Enhanced Vanilla Bodies

The Eyes of Beauty

Lots More Male Haircuts

Lots More Female Haircuts

Real Bruises - Facial Damage Fixes

4K Hairy Men

Furby’s Face Paints and Scars

Ghoul Skin for Looksmenu

Blended Ghoul Eyes

Makeup for Men

Half Ghoul Texture

This requires manual installation and can be a bit finicky, but it looks great

Femshepping and Radbeetle’s KS Hairdos Conversions

Mirrored Vanilla Scars

Softer Bodies

Clothing/Armor/Accessories

Apocalypse Accessories

Furby’s Custom Brotherhood Uniform

Big Dumb Flower Crown

Combat Armor Headlamp

CROSS Brotherhood Recon

Field Scribe Hat for Dogmeat

Wasteland Clothing

Dogmeat Helmets and Hats

Eli’s Armour Compendium

Eli’s Rugged Outfits

Fishing Hat

K-9 Harness

K-9 Harness Bandana Fix: Highly recommended, the vanilla bandana will clip through this harness

Dogmeat’s Backpack

NCR Ranger Veteran Armor

Tactical Flashlights

Wearable Backpacks and Pouches

Just Another Cait Outfit

MacCready Armor Redone

Winged Glasses

Spoon Glasses

4K Kellogg Outfit

NV Stealth Suit

Stalker

Clothing Color Variety

Harness with Tank Top

Private Military Company Extended

Grease Rat Garbs

Wearable Nat’s Backpack

High Waisted Jeans & Tucked Shirt

Park Coventry Outfit

Tactical Accessory Compendium

Wasteland Aviator

MASH

Modular Battlecoat

Mercenary Outfit Pack

Mercenary Outfit Pack Extreme Overhaul

Minutemen Merc - Mercenary Outfit Distribution

PMC Operators

Mongrel Outfit

CROSS Institute Expeditionary

CROSS Mojave Manhunter

CROSS Chosen of Atom

Collars for Humans

Bandana Headwear

West Tek Tactical Optics

Gorka-3 Suit

Survivalist Armor

Absolutely Headwear

Colored Clout Goggles

Colorful Commonwealth - Sunglasses and Wigs

Capital Wasteland Outfit Pack

T60 Equipment

Danse’s Wearable Holotags

CROSS Uni BoS Uniform

Ranger Paca Vest

Hoon’s Multicam AVS Plate Carriers

Ferro Bison Belt Pack

Task Force Helmet Pack

Modern Warfare Remastered - SAS Outfit

Brotherhood Pinup Uniform

Female Outfit Pack

CROSS Vertibird Flightsuit

Awful Wardrobe

Barren Vogue

Commonwealth Shorts

Commonwealth Shorts for Men

More Alternative Jumpsuits

K-Girl Outfits

K-Girl Outfits for Vanilla-EVB

Vault Outfits Redux

Vault Outfits Redux AWKCR AE Patch

Pride Bandanas

Private Military Company

Femshepping’s Assorted Mashups

Femshepping’s Assorted Mashups for Vanilla-EVB

Settlements

OCDecorator

Homemaker

Place Everywhere

SnapBeds

Snappy Housekit

Solar Panels

Settlement Electricity Overhaul

Lightbulb Wire

Scrap Everything

Garden Plot Snap

Farming Resources

Thematic and Practical

Repairable Sanctuary

Paintings and More Give Happiness

Faction Recruitment Pinups

Advanced Bubble Turret Set

Cat and Dog Food Bowls

Christmas Lights

Clothing Shelves

More Fortifications

Colorful Bottle Lanterns

CROP - Create Your Own Planter

cVc Dead Wasteland

Dino’s Decorations

Diverse Cats

Cat Apparel

Cat Inventory + 11 Cat Skins

Expanded Settlement Buildings

Fallout New Vegas Posters and Signs

Functional Displays

Looksmirror: Pairs with Looksmenu, gives you a way to change appearances easily without console commands

Lore Friendly Posters

Static Baskets and Bins

More Colorful Potted Plants

Park Posters

Cattle Feeders Immersively Filled

Holotape Display Shelves

Gun Posters

Repair the Castle

Cafe, Clinic, and Barbershop Posters

Horror Posters

Lore-Friendly Posters

Patched Roofs

Filled Bookcases All-In-One

Femshepping’s Mini Potted Plants

Wall Mounted Magazine Shelf

Misc. silly mods

Destroy the Brotherhood of Steel for Good Guys(save the cat)

Taco Bell Sound - Sledge Hammer Hit Sound Replacer

Mario Sunshine - Death Music Replacement

Funny Dogmeat Subtitles

Sarcastic Sneaking

Edward Deegan - Cat Stalker

High Confessor Desk Fan

Proper Party Gear

Fedora and Trilby Hats Lower Charisma and Intelligence

Alien Todd Howard Glasses

#fallout 4 #fallout 4 mods #fo4 mods #fallout mods #bo.txt

187 notes · View notes

honeysunai · 2 years

Text

Hostess| Kyoya Ootori x reader

Part five - Sun and thunder

Pairing : Kyoya Ootori x reader

General rating : Fluff, enemies to love vibes

Word count : 4k

Summary: As only heir to your family you are bound to an arranged marriage with the third son of the powerful house Ootori. His cold behavior is only a mask for you to uncover when you stumble into music room number three.

Warning: Mention of blood and some bad volleyball description.

This other vacation day is an absolute bliss! No alligators, no chlorine filling your lungs, only the beautiful sun and a hot breeze. On the downside… Kyoya made sure that you had to share your vacations with your guests. This is why you’re in your most revealing bikini you had, you had to entertain your guest in some way and you still had to prove that you could be a better host than Kyoya.

You and Taishiro, one of your newest guests, were playing volleyball against Renge and another boy. Your team was clearly winning because of your past in this sport, five years of volleyball! You weren’t the best, but you were certainly a really good player.

Renge passed the ball over the net and you threw yourself to send it back, but failed miserably. You dropped onto the sand and Taishiro rushed over to you. You had to play your part.

“I’m sorry Taishiro, I missed this one.” You sniffed and he grabbed your hands in his. “No worries y/n! You did so great and it’s only one point, we can make it!” He smiled and so did you. You wrapped your arms around him. “Thank you Taishiro! You’re such a great guy! Isn’t he, ladies?” You turned your head to meet with a crowd of girls fawning over the two of you. Taishiro wanted to be more desirable to the female gaze, so this is the part you’re playing. He is a sweet guy, really, you don’t understand why he would need your help to get girls. He just needed a little boost of confidence, you thought.

You played your role so well that even Kyoya was looking at you– staring at you. The cold death stare as you let your guest help you back on your feet. He gives a feather light kiss to your knuckle without breaking eye contact and you blush. I wink at him as his cue to go see his new groupies and he does just that. They welcome him with sweet words and you laugh on the inside.

That stupid plan did in fact work.

But now, you’re missing a player. You looked around to find a replacement and all of your friends were busy, but your male guests were free. “Hi boys! Can one of you be a darling and play with me?” You wave at them, batting your eyelashes. One of the few boys stood up and dashed to you. “Thank you Asahi, you’re so sweet to play with me.” “It’s my pleasure!” He smiles with all his teeth. Asahi was tall and had long luscious dark brown hair. You’d say he was your type, you like tall pretty boys. “Are you any good at volleyball y/n?” He asks while putting his hair in a bun. “I was captain of my team when I was younger. What about you?” “I wasn’t captain, but I was the ace of my team.” He smirks proudly. “I just hope I can keep up with you, my darling ace.” You wink at him and his entire face becomes red. “I’m taking a break ladies, great match.” Renge’s partner smiles before leaving at once, now we’re back at missing a player all of the sudden. “I’ll replace him.” The deep voice you recognize all too well is heard from behind you and as Kyoya walks past you, he makes sure he bumps into you. Where was he when you needed a teammate?

The referee waits until both teams are ready. Kyoya was your opponent, he was in front of you and he was tall. You’d have to find a way to get through him to win. His gaze on you was intense, cold and determined.

“They can start!” Asahi shouts at the referee. “We’re going to win anyways.” He says to you in a low voice and you smirk. You will win.

For some reason, Renge became great at volleyball in an instant and caught you off guard when she served perfectly between you and Asahi. She was strong and fast… She too, played the game of the helpless girl to get the guy’s attention. Well played Renge, she even fooled you.

The referee’s whistle echoes and the point is theirs. You look over to Asahi and nod, this won’t happen again.

Renge serves again and you stay focused on her face, where she will dare to look. She makes eye contact with you and smirks. Direct hit on you! The ball hits your chest hard and you gasp when it hits you.

“Chance ball, Asahi!” You grunt and he doesn’t let a second be wasted to send it the other way as hard as Renge did, harder even towards Kyoya. He sends it to his teammates and she sends it back to him higher. Another direct hit towards Asahi, this time, and he sends it to you with ease. You smash it right in front of Kyoya and he falls onto his knees trying to retrieve the ball, but fails as it rebounds on the sand.

“Can’t keep up, clownfish?” You laugh.

“I can do this all day, goblin shark.” He spat and your blood boiled inside of you. He stands up and calls over Renge to talk about a quick strategy.

Asahi serves and you smirk as you see Renge struggling to focus on his next move. Asahi is unpredictable and that is to your advantage. The ball is up and when Renge figures the move of your teammate, it’s too late. Kyoya was on his toes and reacted before she could send it up in the air so she had enough time to send it back to your side of the court. It was all in slow motion just like in movies, Kyoya’s eyes met yours and your heart skipped a beat. It was the tension his gaze exudes towards you, the thrill of the competition. The playful smirk upin his face told you that he was enjoying this too. For the first time, he looked like a normal boy of your age and you found him so beautiful. It’s unfortunate he wasn’t like this at all times. But no matter what, you won’t lose to him, ever.

This intense exchange goes on forever until you have had enough and hit it right next to Kyoya’s head. The whistle blows and it’s your point. He doesn’t move and for a second you think you might’ve traumatized the poor guy. But he laughs, truly laughs.

“You’re trying to kill me?” Kyoya says while trying to keep his composure and you laugh too. You looked like two idiots, but you didn’t care, it was the first time you were laughing with Kyoya. You wanted to cherish that moment a little while longer.

“You’re in my way.” You finally say and he snorts as if he was saying ‘yeah right’. Asahi gives you a high five and Kyoya’s jaw tense and his smile leaves his face once again.

The scores are equal and you won’t let yourself be beaten by Kyoya’s arrogance. You’re growing tired and your body doesn’t want to keep up with what you have in mind. Your opponents can see that and they are playing at their advantage by making you run everywhere. Kyoya hits the volleyball right in front of you, almost out of reach, but you drop in the sand to hit the ball back to Asahi who spikes it directly behind Renge hitting the line made in the sand. Kyoya walks over to you with a smirks on his stupidly handsome face. You were fuming. He crouches next to you still on his side of the field and laughs.

“Don’t be a sore loser, y/n” The whistle is blown and you look over to the referee– it’s in! That's your point!

“Can’t be a sore loser if I’m winning.” You smirked at your turn and stood up to tower Kyoya. “Great job Asahi!” You shout never leaving Kyoya’s gaze. By his expression, he wanted to wipe that evil smirk stained on your face.

After your sweet victory, you were looking at the sunset with some of your female guests. You were all sitting on a towel you’d put down to enjoy the view. They were nice girls and talked to you about the boys they had a crush on and you listened to them. You’d listen carefully to what they were looking for in a partner and you’d slide in the conversation offering advice. After all, even if they weren’t your friends, you’d still have to be there for them as you are their host.

“Look at what we have here, one girl for each of us.” A deep masculine voice is heard behind you and your head snapped to see who it was. It wasn’t anyone from your school that you’d seen around, they were local boys and the way they were slowly approaching you meant only trouble.

“Leave us alone, this is a private beach and you’re not one of our guests.” You warn the boys who are still approaching you and your female guests. “I will gladly call the security and they won’t be as nice as I am if you do not leave.” You stood up and put yourself in front of the girls. One of them grabbed your arm and quickly let go of it.

“She said leave them alone!” Haruhi’s voice is heard and it gives time to the girls to leave the rock you were now stuck on. The small brunette had an urchin in her hands ready to throw it.

“Is that your security?” One of them mocks. He grabs onto Haruhi’s shirt and drags her to the edge of the cliff.

“Come on! Stop messing with him.” You tried to yank the guy off of Haruhi, but instead he drops her in the ocean. You loudly gasp before running to the edge ready to jump after her.

“Haruhi!” Tamaki’s scream is heard as he dashes in the water after your friend before you could.

“Looks like it’s only the four of us now.” One of the boys grabs you by your waist and pulls you closer to him. Without thinking your elbow moves and hits him in the groin, hard. It gives you enough time to get away. You can see some security coming up the rock you were on and you felt relieved that the girls alerted someone of our group to call them. Your feet hit a small crevice and you fall down the rest of the way. It was a short fall, but nonetheless it hurts.

“Y/n!” Honey’s high pitched voice echoes in your ears and you see Kyoya dashing towards you before you can even see the small blonde.

“Are you alright?” He asks, cupping your cheeks in his hands and you nod. “Are you hurt?”

“I might have scratched my foot and knees.” You grunt.

“And elbows.” Honey pants. You look at your arms and blood is dripping down them. You guessed your fall was more severe than you thought.

“I’ll bring her to the infirmary.” Mori simply says and picks you up as if you weigh nothing.

“Tamaki’s in the water with Haruhi! Go look for them please.” You begged your friends.

They all ran towards the water as you and Mori left for the infirmary of the beach resort. You saw blood dripping down his chest going downwards and you were afraid it might stain his swim shorts.

“I’ll ask my mother to make you a new pair of swim shorts, I bet you won’t want to go back swimming in them.” You tried your best to apologize and to squirm out of his grip so he wouldn't be covered in blood.

“Don’t worry about it.” He speaks holding you tighter to his chest and you blush silently as he man handles you.

You finally found the infirmary and he sat you down on the office table. The nurse is probably on break because there’s no one in this room and the tall man starts to look inside the drawers to get some rubbing alcohol and bandages.

He kneels in front of you and starts with your feet. He grazed the damaged skin with a cotton ball dipped in the rubbing alcohol. His touch is so gentle and yet you hold on to his shoulder to hold a hiss. He looks up and you can see that he’s worried he might’ve hurt you.

“I’m fine. It’s not everyday I get injured.” You joked and he lightly smiled. He does the same for your knees and your elbows before wrapping every single one of your injuries with swift and gentle movements. “Thanks Mori.” You smile at him and so does he. You kept silent when he was doing his ‘work’, but now you wanted to know. “Why did you volunteer to carry me here and to patch my wounds yourself?”

“You’re my friend. I have to take care of you, just like you would with me.” He softly speaks as he finishes to wrap up your elbow. Your heart melts, he was too sweet to you and deep inside your mind you wished a certain someone would be a little like Mori.

“You’re a bit too heavy for me to carry around.” He chuckles at your joke. “But thank you again, for the help.” It was that simple with him, no argument, no teasing… Just plain simple, you liked that.

“Anytime.” He stood up and towers over you even when you’re sitting on the nurse’s counter. His gaze never left yours and you couldn’t look away from him. “It’s a shame.” He speaks and he’s surprised that these words came out of his own mouth.

“What is?” Your voice is only a whisper.

“That Kyoya can’t admit to himself that you’re pretty.”

“You think I’m pretty?” Your surprise with his words.

“You are.” He softly smiles.

“Wait– What do you mean about Kyoya?” Oh my god– Does he know?

“He should tell you that you’re pretty. You’re engaged.” He says it as if it was nothing. You were shocked.

“You knew?” He nods. “How?” You were frantic, but never raised your voice.

“Mitsukuni and I looked you up before you came into our club. Since you didn’t mention it, it wasn’t our place to do so.” You forgot how powerful their families are! Why didn’t you think about it before?!

“I guess it makes sense.” You hide your face in your hands.

“Are you unhappy with Kyoya?” He asks and you bring yourself to look him in his eyes.

“No– yes? I don’t know.” You scoff and he pats your shoulder. “He’s infuriating most of the time and gets on my nerves, but sometimes, he’s kind and he cares. He made it clear that our relationship will only be for business, no feelings attached.” You explain.

“But what do you want?”

“Love, plain and boring love.” You laugh. “Just like my parents.”

“You’ll find it, your old boring love.” He snorts.

“So will you Mori.” You smile.

Dinner was… something.

You sat next to Tamaki and you could smell the smoke coming from the blonde’s perfect ears. You guessed something had happened between him and his protégé. Because during this entire time Haruhi has been eating lobster like she hasn’t eaten in days while ignoring Tamaki who was scolding her. Haruhi was having none of it.

“If I wasn’t there to do something, y/n and the other girls would’ve been in so much more trouble!”

“You were being careless!”

“Now’s the time I excuse myself.” Kyoya pushes back his fancy chair and exits the room rather quickly.

“Can we enjoy a dinner together without yelling, please?” You practically begged the two idiots yelling at one another. They weren’t listening to you, it seems none of your other friends were listening to you as well. Honey quickly gave you a shrug that meant ‘at least you tried’ before ravaging his plate with more lobster.

“I hate you!” As soon as the words leave the girl's mouth, Tamaki goes silent and turns back to face his plate. He is pale as if he saw a ghost. Haruhi storms out the dining room and you were hoping that her beloved prince would try to catch up to her, but he stayed silent as she ran away. Oh Tamaki…

The other’s finished their meal and went somewhere in the manor while you stayed with oh so silent Tamaki Suho.

“You don’t have to stay with me.” He is sulking, again, and it makes you sad. Tamaki is supposed to be the cheering type of guy who always puts a smile on people’s faces. It didn’t sit right with you to just leave him alone.

“I think you might need a friend for a ‘talk’ or a hug. Both are at your disposal.” You tried to make a joke, but failed miserably as no familiar smile crept on his lips. “What happened with Haruihi?”

“I told her that going after those boys was reckless and that she wasn’t thinking when she tried to be the hero. She’s too fragile! I don’t want anything to happen to her.” He almost raised his voice out of anger, but kept quiet.

“Haruhi is a lot tougher than you want to admit yourself.” You start and he sighs. “I’m not saying that you don’t have the right to be angry, you do. But she did save our guests' life, god knows what these boys would’ve done.”

“What about you?” He simply says finally looking you in your eyes. “You were left alone with them.”

“I gave the guy a hit he will not forget I think.” You chuckle. “I’m no fighter, Tamaki, but I’m not weak. I would do anything in my power to protect my friends or anyone in need. Haruhi did that to try and save me too.” You add. “It was reckless, but you have to understand that she wouldn’t have stayed there and done nothing. She’s stubborn and reckless, but that’s our Haruhi.”

“She could’ve tried to find me beforehand.”

“Tamaki… You’re trying to act like a father figure to her– hell you call yourself her daddy! But she already has a dad and she needs a friend. You’re acting like someone you think you have to be to get close to her, but you’re not bad when you’re yourself, Tamaki. I think you’re a great guy and I think Haruhi would love that guy too.”

“But she said she hates me.”

“I would’ve said that to you too if you were yelling at me while I’m eating.” You snort and so does he. There he is. “I think you should apologize to her or at least talk about it without yelling.” His soft smile indicates that he understands what you're saying and you gently pat him on the back.

“You mean that? Do you think I’m a great guy?” The purple tint in his eyes felt like it regained joy and you were proud of yourself to be able to cheer him up.

“The day I tell you otherwise is the day pigs will have wings.” He chuckles.

“Thank you.” You give him a quick nudge on his side.

“Walk me to my room? A certain someone’s room is next to mine.” He nods and you both exited the dining room.

You keep rambling on about the lobster and how great it tasted, but realize that he stopped following you. You look back and he’s in complete shock in front of Kyoya’s open bedroom door. You rush towards him to see what’s got him so confused. You were perplexed as to why your fiancé and Haruhi were sitting next to each other on his bed. Kyoya wasn’t wearing a shirt… The tension between the four of you felt tense. Haruhi, as she meets your gaze, blushes looking away quickly shyly. It wasn’t like her to be like this. Did he tell her? Did they do something they shouldn’t have done?

“Are you all right?” Tamaki asks Haruhi, walking closer to her.

“I’m f—” Kyoya starts.

“He was speaking to Haruhi.” Your words were sharper than a knife. Thunder raged outside as if you’d made it appear with your feelings. How dare he judge you for a televised kiss? But he’s half naked with Haruhi. The rage that you exude from your body was a clear warning for Kyoya to not speak until you ask him to. Tamaki shivers from this side of you and yells at Kyoya how he is not being a gentleman with his girl. Kyoya’s shocked gaze never left yours as he was being scolded by Tamaki. Your jaw clenched as tears welled up your eyes. You were so angry! Angry that Kyoya can’t keep it in his pants. Angry that he wanted Haruhi over his own fiancé. Angry that he lied and broke his promise to you! You turned around and rushed to your room hoping Kyoya would not come after you.

“Y/n–”Kyoya grabs your wrist to spin you around, but you yank off your arm from his grip. He was so fast and so stealthy you didn’t even hear him follow you.

“Don’t touch me!” The tears in your eyes finally slipped. “You’re an absolute asshole! You judged me for kissing Kaoru in a film, but you were probably going to do far worse with Haruhi. You asked for faithfulness and you can’t keep your word. I hate you Kyoya! I hate—” Your face hit his warm, strong chest while one of his hands is gently stroking the back of your head and the other one around your waist, holding you so close and so tight to him.

“Please don’t cry.” He whispers while tilting his head so his cheek wasn’t resting on your head anymore, it was his lips. “Don’t cry because of me, I didn’t break my promise to you y/n.” The soft skin of his lips made your entire being burn. Was it his heartbeat or your own who was pounding in your ears? “I was changing and she thought it was her room. We just talked about how reckless she was being today.”

“It sounds ridiculous.” You scoff.

“I know…” He sighs. “I swear on Tamaki’s head I didn’t do anything or tried anything.”

“You don’t like Tamaki very much.” A soft giggle escapes your lips as you sniff.

“I do in a very special way, but I swear it on yours then.” He chuckles.

“You don’t like me Kyoya.” You roll your eyes.

“More than you make yourself believe.” He whispers. You try to look up, but Kyoya only holds you tighter as if he was ashamed of what he had just said to you. What did he mean by that? Does he want to try? He probably said it to tease you again or to make you stop crying like a baby.

“You don’t have to pretend to care, Kyoya. No one is watching us.” Disgust was shown on your face, but your fiancé couldn’t see it.

“I know.” He keeps stroking your hair as if he was the one who needed it now. He needed comfort just as much as you did. You finally tighten your grip on him and melt into his body as if it was made for you.

After a while you both let go of each other and bid the other one good night and walked to your respective rooms. You finally rested your head on the silk pillowcase, but couldn’t manage to be a little bit tired. After your intense day, week even, you couldn’t even find sleep. You could only think about that stupid dinner date with your in-laws and what happened to day. What happened with Kyoya… The intimacy you shared with him. You needed to talk to him.

You pulled out your phone and tossed and turned in your bed trying to find the courage to call or text him, until your text tone went off. You quickly check your phone and your heart skipped a beat.

“Do you want to go walk around the estate?” - Kyoya

#kyoya #kyoya ootori #ohshc kyoya #kyoya x reader #kyoya fluff #kyoya smutt #ohshc anime #ohshc x reader #ohshc fanfic #ouran host club #ohshc au #ouran academy #ouran tamaki #ouran x reader #enemies to lovers #anime #arranged marriage #anime fluff #ohshc smutt

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louisthiccsexyglitteryass · 7 months

Text

please note: all of my fics have privacy settings meaning that those without accounts cannot access them. I apologise if this is an inconvenience.

SERIES

Shot Through The Heart 🔪(ongoing)

Punished By Teacher 📚(completed)

1D Marvel Fusion 🕷(ongoing)

Off to the Races 💋(ongoing)

Take Me To Heaven 🔥(ongoing)

Harryween 2023 🎃(completed)

Christmas 2023 🎄(which we sort of ignore)

ONE SHOTS

Raise my body back to life 🔥 [1k]

After going for so long without Louis, Harry takes matter into his own hands. The consequences be damned, of course.

with your hands around my neck [1k]

Louis looks hot in that mesh jacket and I want to choke him because of it so I wrote this HAHA. Harry chokes Louis. [E]

Hit me baby one more time [12.7k] [2 part one shot]

Louis is a boxer, and hates one of the members of his club, Harry Styles. Life has a funny way of showing Louis that maybe he doesn't hate Harry as much as he thought, or that Louis maybe finds Harry hot. [E]

They're playin' my song, the butterflies fly away [2k] for @enchantedlandcoffee

After attending the famous White House Trio New Years party, Louis and Harry end up spending the entire day with Alex and Henry. The night just so happens to end in something a little different. [E] [CROSSOVER FIC- RED, WHITE & ROYAL BLUE x ONE DIRECTION- SPECIFICALLY ALEX CLAREMONT-DIAZ/HENRY FOX-MOUNTCHRISTEN-WINDSOR X HARRY STYLES/LOUIS TOMLINSON]

Trick or Treat! 🎃 [1k]

Alpha Louis takes his daughter and pregnant omega Harry trick or treating, and shows how great of an Alpha he is when Harry gets tired. [T]

I just worship at your feet. 🔥🎃 [2k]

After getting home from the game, Harry summons Louis back to Earth. Just for fun, of course. [E]

Kinktober 🎃 [1.2k]

Of all the things Louis expected to come out of his boyfriend's mouth, the words 'threesome with Liam', wasn't one of them. Nor did he expect to so readily agree to it. [E]

And I could be the monster 🎃 [2.2k]

Vampire Harry finally finds something to satisfy his 200 hundred years in the making pain kink. It just so happens to be an incredibly irritating Werewolf named Louis. [E]

Take me to ecstasy (ecstasy) 🎃🔥 [4k]

After a Halloween prank gone wrong, Harry finds himself in the bed of Lucifer. Because of course. [E]

Stainless Steel Blade 🔪🎃 [1.2k]

Harry winds up producing a knife out of nowhere, as Louis learns once he finally makes his way upstairs. He's standing in the doorway, watching Harry swing the knife back and forth with a sadistic smirk on his face, a pair of handcuffs and a gag on the bed behind him. "Say, wanna try something new?" Harry says wickedly. [E]

In the middle of the night when the wolves come out 🎃 [2.1k]

Once turned, he's met with a pair of glowing, yellow eyes trained on him, and the great, snarling jaws of a beast with huge, long, sharp teeth and a thirst for blood. It's tongue lolls out of it's mouth, dripping saliva on the forest floor as it advances.

It's huge, with long, dark and shaggy fur and curling, razor-sharp claws, growling lowly as it advances on him, leaning back on it's hind legs to pounce, tackling him to the ground and leaving him sprawling in the dust, dropping his bag as he falls. [E]

Like sweat dripping down our dirty laundry [1.4k] for @louisarmpits

Harry has a thing for Louis' armpits. Louis wears a tank-top. You get the picture. [E]

There's a devil in your smile, it's chasing me 🕷 [1.5k]

Amateur Hero Harry Styles has made an enemy of local bad-guy gang leader Louis. When Louis presents him an ultimatum, a challenge, even, for his escape, he thinks it'll be easy. But Louis catches him, and, honestly? Harry doesn't regret it. [E] [Warning: mild dub-con]

And I fucked my best friend [1.6k]

After somehow getting stuck under his bed, Harry phones his best friend Louis. But, apparently, Louis wants to help him out with more than just his predicament. [E]

White bikini off with my red nail polish 💋 [2.9k] for @onexaddition

Harry meant to just get some money from Louis, not end up following him around America as they ran from the law. Not fall in love with him and become dependent. Not care. But sometimes that's what happens. [E]

Tell all of your friends that I'm crazy and drive you mad [1k]

Louis hates Harry after seeing him. Then after they meet it gets worse. But naturally fate has other plans. [E] [Warning: possible dub-con]

Bleedin' me dry like a goddamn vampire [2.5k]

After straying too far into the woods and finding himself inside Tomlinson Manor, a place stuck in the past following the murder of the entire family by the youngest son, Harry learns that there's more than meets the eye, especially with the mysterious occupant, Louis. [E] [Warning: Dub-con]

I knew you were trouble [1.8k]

"And?" Harry drawls. "You knew that we shouldn't be doing it before we fucked. Don't suddenly gain a conscience."

"Tell her tonight, or I will." Louis says with an air of finality. [E]

Finger My Mouth [1.5k] for @lunaticcat009

Louis' dentist (and childhood crush) rides him on the orthodontic chair. [E]

Ride it, my pony [1k]

Harry shows Louis he can ride more than just horses. [E]

Tug of War [2k]

During a fistfight Louis and Harry both discover more about each other than they'd ever care to share, including how the other reacts when their hair is pulled. [E]

Little black dress just walked into the room [2.4k] for @lunaticcat009

But then he found himself wondering about how Harry's perky ass would look in one of those. Harry his feminine boyfriend who loved dressing up in the bedroom and submitting to Louis. Harry his boyfriend who loves nothing more than being bought gifts. Then, of course, Louis' mind wandered to how absolutely hilarious it would be to purchase this for Harry. Like when he'd bought that sex toy made specifically for clit stimulation and Harry had thrown it at his head then donated it to the local club's shop. And next thing he knew there was a black latex spanking skirt in his basket. [E]

I see your true colours shining through [1k]

Louis and Harry both teach at the same school, and have been happily married for a while. After they've been finally given permission to be open with their students, will they let their true colours shine through? [M]

If I give you my heart, don't you break it [1.2k]

Whilst alone in the X-Factor house, Louis and Harry finally become intimate together. After a lot of awkwardness, begging and arguing, of course. [M]

If you were invisible for a day, what would you do? [1k]

Harry wakes up invisible. Chaos, revelations, and nudity ensues. [T]

Here to take my medicine [2.4k]

"You alright?" He rasps in a thick Northern accent, sitting himself in front of Harry. "What happened?"

Harry bites back a whine, feeling simultaneously content and uncomfortable under his steely gaze. "I- uh- c-cut myself..." he stutters, ducking his gaze. He really has to get better at talking to Alpha's. [M]

Louis' Thicc Sexy Ass [1k]

It occurred to me that I'm the guy with a Louis Tomlinson's ass fan account and have never written anything dedicated to the holy dumptruck itself, which is why we're here. [M]

A.M. [351]

Sleepy early morning sex between Louis and Harry. Just quick little fic. [M]

I had my eyes up on the prize [1.6k] for @onexaddition

In a bid to impress their boss and get a promotion, Zayn and Harry end up having a threesome with CEO Louis Tomlinson himself. [E]

The Battle of Mount Pelion [3.5k]

As prophesied by the Gods, two enemies (Prince Harry of Aetheopia and Prince Louis of Phthia) from Ancient times battle in a bid to impress the King of Gods, Zeus for fame and fortune. Both are the sons of God's, and eventually Louis gives into Harry's charms. [E] [Crossover with The Song of Achilles]

Two Nightstands [2.6k]

When Niall dares Harry to match with the first guy on Tinder, he does not expect to find Louis Tomlinson. But he did. [E]

But I don't regret falling for you [1k]

Whilst trying to climb Mt. Everest, Harry quite literally falls for Louis, an event that causes the two of them to be separated from the group and forces them to sit in wait until they can be rescued. [T]

"Louise?" [887]

Louis, a trans guy, goes to pick up his prescription. Harry, the chemist, get's very offended on his behalf when Louis is forced to deadname himself. [G]

Punished By Mr. Styles 📚 [1.1k]

Disrespecting a teacher like Mr. Styles was just supposed to be a laugh, not turn into the best fuck of his life. [E] [Warning: Underage]

Punished By Mr. Tomlinson 📚 [1.7k]

After daydreaming in class, Harry end's up opting for the ruler rather than a detention.

But you're not supposed to enjoy it... Right? [E] [Warning: Underage]

Nothin' but a fucking cockslut [5k]

After a day of rule-breaking and teasing, Harry gets passed around by the boys and treated like the cock slut he is. [E] [ot5]

'Til my feet are wet [1.4k]

"Wait, were you wanking?" Harry asks, eyes widening. "Shit, sorry Lou."

Louis shrugs and nods at the same time. "You needed to piss, don't blame ya."

"But I feel bad!" Harry pouts. "I feel like I should do something to apologise..."

"What, help me get off?" Louis scoffs.

"Yeah. I will." [E]

Conversation Pit. [2.7k]

The one where Louis and Harry fuck in a conversation pit. (which nobody asked for) [E]

Somebody that I used to know [11.1k]

Harry broke up with his ex boyfriend Louis five years ago. It's done, it's over, it's in the past. Louis' just somebody that he used to know.

That is, until he's hired as Louis' personal assistant. Feelings are back, Louis' a flirty little fucker, and Harry's trying to keep the past in the past and he's totally not tempted to date Louis again.

Until he ends up getting locked in the storage room... [E]

Too Drunk For Love [7k]

Once he has the nuggets, Harry hands them back, and Louis sloppily kisses his cheek before taking them, mumbling thanks.

"You're a weird drunk." Harry muses.

"And you're sexy and I want to marry you." Louis mumbles absently, scarfing down the nuggets. [E]

Sit on a dick [1.2k]

The one where Harry tops, but Louis still doms.

Or the one when I randomly decided to see if I could write top Harry. (spoiler alert, I can.)

No Control [1k]

Louis shows up to Harry's hotel room drunk and lonely, just wanting a cuddle. What happens when they wake up, and Louis has a boner? [M]

Sticks and Stones May Break My Bones, But Whips and Chains Excite Me [5.9k]

The one where Harry goes to an anonymous sex club, and Louis is the anonymous dom.And then they keep going back... [E]

Drunken Voicemails [2.2k]

"Heyyyyyyy Louis..." He slurs into the phone once it's gone to voicemail. "I- I just wanted to tell you how fucking... How fucking sexy you are... You know? Your ass is so round that I just want you to use it to fucking... Like- like- sit on my face."

Or the one when Harry drunkenly phones his boss to confess the outrageous need to be fucked by said boss. And, of course, said boss happens to fuck him. [E]

MULTI-CHAPTER (completed fics only)

Louis Blue Suit 🔪 | Completed: 4 chapters | 1.7k

"I can't believe Harry killed him!" Louis stresses, running his hands through his hair. "Is he crazy?"

"We have established that he is, Louis." Liam sighs. [E] [Novella]

Pearl White Lace 🔪 | Completed: 5 chapters | 2.3k

Harry kisses him softly, and they fall onto the bed together, making out for what seems hours, just enjoying being husbands. That is until Harry starts desperately rutting against Louis' thigh. [E] [Novella: THE WEDDING NIGHT] [Violence]

Midnight Black Stilettos 🔪 | Completed: 15 chapters | 16k

"I'm not letting anything get in the way of my wedding." Harry says, a tad firmly. "It has to be perfect. Our perfect day." [E] [STTH Book 2] [Violence]

Blood Red Lipstick 🔪 | Completed: 31 chapters | 33.3k

"Copy." Louis says, moving his finger from his in-ear microphone. He glances over at his latest target- Harry Styles, 24, from Holmes Chapel, Cheshire. The man is wearing a long, tight-fitting red dress, his long hair cascading in waves down his shoulder, blood red lipstick painted across his lips. [E] [STTH Book 1] [Violence]

Shut up, soulmate! | Completed: 13 chapters | 12.8k | Cowritten

Louis has waited two years for his soulmate, worrying that something is wrong with him. He knows everyone has a soulmate, his friends has already found theirs, but he's absent.

Until he wakes up one night from someone singing Bryan Adams Summer of 69 in his head. After spending a couple of nights awake (his soulmate doesn't sleep and when doesn't he sings the same damn song over and over) he's ready to murder him! [G]

MULTI-CHAPTER (ongoing fics only)

Still Ongoing:

Scream [1/?]

Hot Pink Leather 🔪 [8/?] [STTH Book 3]

Tomlinson's Bitch [6/?]

Married At First Sight [2/?]

Time After Time [6/?]

With a taste of a poison paradise [3/?]

I know nobody understands, me like you do [2/?]

Sweet as Sugar (Baby) for @theysharethat28 [2/?]

I Dare You [6/?]

Discontinued:

Their Omega, His Protectors

His Pet

The 12 (Kinky) Days of Christmas🎄 [7/12]

Love Actually [Advent fic that made me lose the will to live :)] [15/24]

FICS UNDER PSEUDS:

SiriusBlacksPonytail:

Lord, what you're doing to me? [5/?] for @the-sun-is-also-a-star

HenryFoxsBonerLikeStonehenge:

With perfect all-American lips [1/1]

The taste on my tongue [1/1]

They're playin' my song, the butterflies fly away [1/1]

TheCaptainsSillyGayMustache:

Lieutenant Havers (reprise) [1/?]

#fic masterpost #fic masterlist #my fic #my fic writing

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pinkiepiebones · 1 year

Text

Wishlist for Renfield 4K UltraHD Rrerelease

-"Unrated" edition with like 30minutes of cut story and cut scenes like the dance number edited back into the movie

-MORE ALTERNATE TAKES! GIVE ME NIC CAGE DRACULA PLAYING WITH THE EYEBALLS IN HIS MARTINI!!!

-AUDIO COMMENTARY BY THE NICS, AWKWAFINA, AND BEN SCHWARTZ

-"A Brief History of Vampires" or "Vamp Facts" infotainment style video narrated by Renfield where he discusses common beliefs about vampires

-Concept art gallery showing the sets and costumes from sketch to screen. You could even call the segment "From Sketch to Screen."

-Maybe a video of the actors talking about the wonderful and dedicated and perhaps slightly frightening in their zeal fanbase? :3c

-Limited edition comes bundled with a shirt that says "Work Sucks" or "I hate my boss" and has fake blood splatter on it

-Steelbook edition comes with a slipcover window frame so it just looks like a portrait of Dracula but when you remove the slipcover you see Renfield off to the side behind Dracula. Kinda like the poster concepts, you know? Plus the BluRay case states "behind every great monster is an overworked sidekick," lean in to that! Alternatively, slipcover shows the bug box and when you remove the slipcover there's a sickass illustration of Renfield with gold eyes or smth

Everything is getting a 4K rerelease these days. Renfield deserves it! Maybe drop it on Halloween~

#renfield #renfield 2023 #I am an IDEA Zombie okay. I pitch and they listen. Someone will listen. Somewhere. Someday...

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reggieblk · 1 year

Note

hi i just wanna drop in and say i absolutely LOVE equals in life (partners in death)!! your writing is top tier and the relationship just… so good. i absolutely adore it and i know it’ll be a favorite for years to come

any other fics coming up in the future?

hello! thank you so so much!! I can't believe the feedback I've gotten on this fic it's mind-blowing! <3

Concerning my other fics in progress here you go (the keep reading is bc it's long):

WIPS (multi-chaptered fics)

you’re the only friend I need (sharing beds like little kids)

Premise : Tom and Harry grow up together in Wool’s Orphanage and are inseparable from the time they are placed together in a cot as babies. Retraces some of their childhood and their years at Hogwarts.

Current writing status : Mid third year, around 80k words, Chapters : 14/?, Rating : E, POV : Tom

Pirate!Harry/Prince!Tom AU (untitled for the time being)

Premise : Harry, born on his ship, is made Captain of his crew on his eighteenth birthday. Tom, Heir to the English throne, hates his father, the King, and is constantly denied the succession.

When Sirius gets arrested on the British shores and taken before the Crown Prince who locks him up with promise of the Death Penalty, Harry devises a plan to break his Godfather out. Maybe falling in love with the pretty Prince wasn't part of the plan, but it’s something.

Current writing status : Chapters 7/9 (?), 30k words, Rating : E, POV : alternating (Harry/Tom)

ONESHOTS (completed)

It will come back

Summary :

Tom staggered back, letting go of him. His eyes snapped back to Harry’s and the look in them was suddenly very crazed, his grin feral. He took a step back towards Harry who was in awe at the sight of Tom, hair dishevelled and face covered in blood, shirt rumpled.

Tom sank to his knees. Harry blinked, Tom had never done this before. Such a deafening hush fell over the Great Hall, everyone halted in their movements, students and teachers alike. Tom Riddle was kneeling before someone in something that could only be classified as worship.

The words he spoke rang out throughout the entire Great Hall.“For you, Harry Potter, I would burn the whole world to the ground.”

Status : Complete, 4k words, needs editing, Rating E, Porn without plot, POV Harry

let the light in

Summary :

Harry Potter. Harry Potter was standing on the threshold of Lord Voldemort’s door.

Lord Voldemort considered slamming the door in his face but steeled himself. The boy looked strange, his eyes a bit wild despite the dullness that inhabited them that had never been there before, eclipsing the brightness fuelled by fierce determination that usually resided there.

Status : Complete, 8k words, Rating E, Porn with plot, POV LV

love is such a dreadful thing (and dread is so lovely)

Summary :

Sometimes a petty lover's quarrel between two Gods is all it takes to put an end to a decade long war. (Deimos!Tom, Anteros!Harry)

Status : Complete, 2.3k words, Rating T, POV outsider

to hold your life in my decaying hands

Summary :

“There is beauty in this place, life, existence.” I peered into his eyes as I admitted this, admiring the masterful swirl of his crimson irises.

“And is that what you seek, wanderer?” he asked in a whisper.

“It is,” I replied, leaning into the peaceful feeling of serenity the atmosphere brought.

Status : Complete, 3.7k words, Rating M, First person POV

Please feel free to ask any questions about upcoming works whether it be for snippets or to request which oneshots you would like me to post first ! xx

#fic : equals in life (partners in death)#ask #tomarry #harrymort #my upcoming fics

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frstcorinthians · 1 year

Text

; rest your head one more time (ii)

summary: the next morning in the med wing saw a couple new recruits coming in with stuffy noses. you gave them some cold medicine and sent them on their way, mind elsewhere. rooster’s warning was still spinning in your head, and as your thoughts spiraled, you managed to boil your worries down to two reasons. the first was more obvious: rattler was unpleasant to be around. any sense of camaraderie you could form with your teammates would be ruined by his presence. he was always watching and waiting for someone to slip up slightly, trying to find chinks in their armor that he could run and report to higher-ups. he was, to put it mildly, a professional pain in the ass. the second reason was more personal. warnings: 18+ and i MEAN IT, little enemies-to-lovers quarrel, unprotected sex, and the evergreen mentions of medical procedures wc: 4k not too shabby notes: welcome 2 my twisted mind. the smut is probably not that great since i haven’t written any before but um. enjoy. please.

The next morning in the med wing saw a couple new recruits coming in with stuffy noses. You gave them some cold medicine and sent them on their way, mind elsewhere. Rooster’s warning was still spinning in your head, and as your thoughts spiraled, you managed to boil your worries down to two reasons. The first was more obvious: Rattler was unpleasant to be around. Any sense of camaraderie you could form with your teammates would be ruined by his presence. He was always watching and waiting for someone to slip up slightly, trying to find chinks in their armor that he could run and report to higher-ups. He was, to put it mildly, a professional pain in the ass.

The second reason was more personal. Rattler was the one who gave you your call sign, the one who branded your time here with a reminder of the worst moment of your life. Embarrassing call signs weren’t unusual - in fact, most of them were just that - but yours felt uniquely cruel. You didn’t get it as the result of a drunken bender or mishap in Basic, you got it because at a critical moment in your career, you fucked up. It needled you every day, made you insanely methodical in your work. You had dodged many a question from Coyote or joke from Hangman asking about how you got it until you finally cracked and made up a story about owning several Ragdoll cats. They had laughed and occasionally poked fun at you, but never pushed beyond that. You worried that, if Rattler showed up and started running his mouth, the carefully crafted story you’d put up would shatter. Your tentative friends would be appalled at what you’d done, you’d be too embarrassed to show your face to them again, and your entire world here at Top Gun would be dead in the water.

Your catastrophizing was interrupted by Hangman banging through the door, dragging another man with him. “Ragdoll! Nice to see you. I’ve got one for you here.” Hangman dropped the other pilot off into a chair unceremoniously.

You went into autopilot, coming over to assess your new patient. “What happened?” You pulled his helmet off and found yourself face-to-face with Rattler.

Your hands stilled. Rattler’s head rolled over to meet your eyes, and a lazy smile spread across his face. “Long time no see, Ragdoll.” You felt paralyzed. All you could do was stare and stare, taking in the flecks of blood and bruises that were starting to form on his face.

“This idiot got himself right in Rooster’s line of fire,” Hangman clapped his hand on Rattler’s shoulder. You were glad to see him flinch. “Got himself knocked around in the cockpit, slammed his face into the controls.”

“Alright.” You went over to grab some supplies. You were as gentle with Rattler as you were with anyone, but you still saw him wince under your fingertips. Your eyebrows furrowed and you felt around, looking for signs of what might be wrong. “I think your nose is broken.”

As you went over to grab some numbing gel so you could set his nose, Hangman’s words finally hit you. “You said Rooster had something to do with it?�� You tried not to sound too interested, but you felt your temper start to rise at the thought that Rooster might have done something stupid. You told him not to take any risks. Crossing Rattler always ended poorly, regardless of who was actually in the wrong.

“Yeah, his flying was totally off today,” Hangman was chatty as usual as he watched you sort your supplies with interest. “He was all turned around already, and by the time this guy got up there he wasn’t aiming straight.”

You didn’t want to pique Rattler’s interest, so you simply hmmed in response to Hangman’s story. Rattler knew you and Rooster had history even before Basic, but he didn’t know the extent of it - both of you were wise enough to shut up whenever he tried to come ferret out details. Maybe we could use this to our advantage, make him think the real secret is that we’re dating. The thought came to you unbidden, and you almost laughed out loud at how ridiculous it was. It was a known fact around base that you and Rooster didn’t get along, and the idea of you two in a relationship was about as plausible as the Hard Deck running out of beer.

“Glad to see you’re still one of our top doctors,” Rattler’s voice was pleasant, but it made your face heat up in embarrassment. You shrugged, pretending you weren’t shaken.

“Ragdoll’s great. She keeps us all in tip-top shape.” Hangman’s voice was genuinely fond as he watched you wash your hands before bandaging Rattler’s nose. “Even helped me a while back when I sprained my wrist while on leave.”

“Sounds like you’ve really learned to go above and beyond.” You thought Rattler’s voice sounded a little smug, but you tried to convince yourself you were imagining it. “Who would’ve thought you’d be the one playing doctor even when off-duty.”

You hit your limit with Rattler’s antics; you wanted him gone. You quickly bandaged up his face, and if you pressed a little harder on the bridge of his nose than you should have, well, who would know?

“Keep the bandaging on for a couple weeks. I’ll call you when it’s time for me to take another look.” You gave a quick, terse smile and started to put things away, hoping Rattler would take the hint. He did, mercifully, and went on his merry way to terrorize someone else. Hangman hung back as you finished closing all your drawers. You only realized he was still there when you thunked the back of your head against the wall and let out a deep breath.

“What’s that guy’s deal?” Hangman’s face was uncharacteristically sober as he looked at you.

“He’s a grade-A asshole, and not in the fun way, like you.” Your voice was flat - Rattler really knew how to take it out of you.

“Thanks,” Hangman snorted. “But seriously, do you two know each other? Rooster was weird around him too, even before we got up in the air today.”

“We met in Basic.” You tried your best not to slide down the wall. “Some advice: don’t talk too much in front of him and stay out of his way. He’s the biggest fucking narc I’ve ever met, and I know how much you love flaunting behavioral codes.”

“’Preciate it.” Hangman’s expression was still troubled. “You’ll let me know if you need anything, right? Any of us. You’re part of our team.”

At another time, his words would have made you smile, feel giddy. Now, they only made you feel vaguely sick. “Yeah. Anytime, Hangman.”

Once the base had retired for the night, you made it your mission to hunt down Rooster. You wanted to know what exactly had happened during training today. If the two of you were going to handle Rattler, you needed to be on the same page. You checked his usual haunts, but didn’t find him in the mess hall, the lounge, or the hangar. After making a couple rounds, you decided to search for reinforcements.

You found Fanboy sitting with Payback at one of the tables in the mess hall. “Hey, doc!” Fanboy’s voice was cheery as he waved you over to their table. “Come to check on your favorite patient?”

He made you smile, despite yourself. “As much as I’d love to chat, I’m actually looking for Rooster. Either of you seen him?”

The two pilots exchanged a dubious look. “Yeah, he got stuck doing push-ups after training,” Payback answered. “He’s probably still out there, Maverick was the one watching him.”

Shit. “Alright, thanks guys.” You were in such a rush to leave you missed spotting Rattler sitting a chair a few tables down, carefully watching your interaction.

You hurried down to the tarmac, absolutely no plan in mind for how you were going to distract Maverick enough to let you talk to Rooster. Maybe you’d get lucky and he’d switch spots with you, let you watch Rooster’s suffering. The idea should have made you laugh, even a little, but instead you felt guilty. Where the hell did that come from? In what world did you care that Rooster was facing the consequences of his actions? This was the same guy who made you justify every single action you took, the same guy you kept the corner of your eye on everywhere you went. You were hyper-aware of where he was, orbiting him like a cat skittering around a dog. He deserved a little pain for all the shit he had given you, even if, in this particular incident, you two were on the same side.

You felt a spark go up your spine as you spotted two men down by the planes, golden in the setting sun. You zeroed in on Rooster’s form. As you approached them, Maverick looked your way, raising a hand in greeting.

“Ragdoll, good to see you. You wouldn’t mind keeping an eye on this one, would you?”

“No problem, sir.” You tried to match his very toothy smile, forcing a grin on your face and trying to keep your eyes off Rooster.

“Thanks,” Maverick clapped you on the back and headed away, probably to annoy one of the higher-ups again. You took a deep breath, trying to calm your churning stomach down.

“Heard you got into it with Rattler today,” you started. Rooster kept at it, not even sparing a glance your way. You tried again. “Not to be all ‘I told you so,’ but I warned you going after him like that was a bad id–”

Finally, Rooster stood up. “I wasn’t ‘going after him,’” he cut you off, voice even. “He got in the way of my flying, and I should’ve been watching.”

You stared. No way the same guy who had made you triple-check your first aid kits every time you went out - seriously, you forget gauze one time and you never hear the end of it - was the one who was innocently screwing over someone else in training. No way the guy who has an indexed list of every mistake Hangman’s made in the last two years accidentally misfires. No way the only person who can hold a grudge longer than you doesn’t take a golden opportunity to let it out. “Rooster, this was the worst possible way to take out your issues with Rattler.”

“You think I did something this stupid because of something he did to me?” His voice was starting to heat up, and not in the usual annoyed way - there was real fire in his eyes.

“Why else would you go after the guy?” It seemed obvious to you.

“Maybe because right before I shot at him, he was running his mouth about how bad a doctor you are?” Rooster was almost yelling, and the very small part of your brain not occupied with how close to your face he was was extremely grateful no one else was nearby. Your brain processed his words quickly, spitting out something entirely illogical: how sweet, Rooster risked disciplinary action to defend your skills. The thought left you reeling, grasping at anything else to avoid feeling thankful towards someone you hated.

“You think I can’t fight my battles for me?” You spat out, voice shrill. In the back of your mind, you knew you didn’t believe what you were saying. But the urge to argue with Rooster, even when you knew it wasn’t worth the energy, was a deep-seated one. It was second nature at this point, to swing back at him with something to the contrary, just to keep his attention on you.

And it was, his eyes wide, staring directly at you. “What? That’s not–” he pushed his hands through his hair, frustrated. “You know what? Forget it.” He picked up his gear and made for the far side of the tarmac. You watched as he left, still floundering, feelings of guilt now compounding. You tried to push them down as you trailed out after him, watching as he made his way to the garage.

Rooster’s apartment wasn’t far from base, set in a complex that housed a number of other pilots and staff. You felt a little apprehensive as you drove up. You knew his address from the medical file you got from the higher-ups; it wasn’t like you’d gone snooping around to find it. But still, the two of you weren’t really friends. What would you say if he answered the door? Hey, it’s me, just wanted to keep talking about what happened between you and the one person we both hate more than each other. Also maybe to apologize, who knows? You swallowed your feelings down and got out of your car, heading over to his unit.

The door opened before you could knock. Rooster stood in the entryway, hair disheveled and expression suspicious. “What are you doing here, Ragdoll?”

No reason to beat around the bush. “I wasn’t done talking to you.”

“What’s there to talk about? I fucked up and he got in the middle of it.” Rooster still didn’t move out of the doorway. Your temper, still on edge from your argument earlier, came to the surface once more.

“You can’t ‘fuck up’ like that around him, Rooster!” Your voice was rising. “You know how he is, he’ll tell everything to Maverick, or Cyclone, or–”

Your voice was cut off by Rooster grabbing your arm and pulling you inside, slamming the door behind you. “You think I don’t know what Rattler’s like?” His voice was angry. “I know just as well as you what an asshole he is, and I know how badly I messed up today. I don’t need you to come running to my apartment trying to clean up my mess.”

“I’m not cleaning up your shit, you idiot!” You were still shouting, voice ringing through the apartment. “I have my own problems to handle, and if you start stirring Rattler up, he’ll bring them all out in the open again.” Rooster opened his mouth to say something, but you plowed ahead. “And, it’ll only get worse if you defend me in front of him. I can’t have this squad thinking I’m an idiot, I can’t do that again.”

“God, what’s the worst thing he could bring up?” Rooster threw his hands up in exasperation. “That you missed two points in a final exam years ago?”

“You don’t remember? What happened to Bobcat three years ago, at Lemoore?” Now that you had started, you couldn’t stop. The words were spilling out of you like a flood. “You were there the whole time. The biggest fuck-up of my life, and you and Rattler saw the whole damn thing. For all I know, you came up with my call sign together. Now I’ve got a squad of people counting on me and I cannot let them start to think I’m as big an idiot as you know I am.”

Rooster’s expression changed. “Ragdoll, what are you talking about?”

You laughed, nearly hysterical. “Don’t act like you don’t remember. All those classes at UVA? You constantly talking down to me, acting like you’re such a genius because you know all about every stupid little detail of the U.S. military? You treated me like an idiot the entire time we were there, and it only got worse in Basic.”

“Wait a damn minute, you’re the one who was picking fights with me.” Rooster’s temper was back up. The issue of Rattler was almost forgotten, the two of you more interested in trading old hurts.

“Bullshit!” You stopped thinking; your body moved on its own. It was a decade of embarrassment and pain and an inescapable gravitational pull you felt towards Rooster that made you take a swing at him. You saw it happen in slow-motion, saw his eyes widen as he took in what was happening. You watched as he neatly dodged and moved to grab your other hand before you even knew you had it raised.

“Ragdoll, knock it off.” Rooster wrestled you down, even as you fought like hell to get out of his grasp. You were a scrappy thing for sure, but Rooster had several inches on you. He ended up pinning you down to the floor, arms above your head. Both of you were breathing heavily, adrenaline still pumping through your veins. Neither of you moved for a moment, then another. Then, something in the tension snapped, and his lips were on yours.

It wasn’t soft. Rooster kept your arms pinned down, and as much as you twisted against him, his grip was iron-strong. “Quit squirming,” Rooster’s voice was husky as he moved down to kiss your neck.

“Shut the fuck up–” your words ended in a moan as Rooster found a particularly sensitive spot. Anything else you could’ve said died in your throat as he bit down. It had been a while since you’d had sex with anyone. Between the grueling schedule at Top Gun and the hang-ups surrounding Rooster you were beginning to suspect you had, there weren’t many opportunities to fuck around. You swore your skin was sparking as Rooster rucked up your shirt with one hand, continuing to press kisses against the skin of your stomach.

“If I let go of your hands, will you try to punch me again?” He looked up at you, pupils already blown wide.

“No.” Your voice was quiet, punched-out.

“Good.” He did just that. Your hands immediately flew to his hair, pulling him up to kiss you again. He groaned at the feeling. You felt something hard against the inside of your thigh, and suspected Rooster had been suffering from the same schedule as you. You pressed your hips against his, insistent. The heat from the argument before was still in your veins, you wanted him now, now, now.

“Bedroom,” Rooster pulled you up off the floor, your arms draped around him, holding on like a damn limpet. He pushed you down onto the bed and you pulled him right back on top of you, unable and unwilling to let him go for long. You kept kissing him, feeling almost like you were going to devour him whole. Now that you’d let yourself have him all to yourself, you weren’t ready to give him up.

You made quick work of his shirt before pawing at his belt buckle, trying desperately to undo it. Your movements were stalled by his gentle kisses at your chest, sending your nerves alight. You stifled your moan, trying still to keep any hint of vulnerability hidden away. “C’mon,” Rooster chuckled. “You’re usually so ready to snap at me, let me hear your pretty little voice.”

“Give me something worth yelling about, maybe I will.” Your voice wavered, hands slipping on Rooster’s zipper at the feeling of his laughter vibrating against your skin.

“Deal.” Rooster helped your hands pull down his jeans and boxers. You felt the heat between your legs pulse as his cock bobbed out. You couldn’t help yourself but let out a little whimper - you wanted him bad. He grinned at the sound, and your instinct to one-up him kicked in. You spat into your hand and wrapped it around him, starting to pump his cock. Now he was the one whimpering, panting into your neck as you ran your thumb along the head of his cock. You could feel him start to drip into your hand, pre-cum adding a delicious slide to the heat of your hand.

“Fuck, wait,” Rooster stuttered out, cock jumping in your hand.

“What, done already? Man, how long has it been since you got laid?” You asked as you gave him one more teasing stroke.

“Shut up,” he moaned, pressing another long kiss to your lips.

“Make me,” you answered, positively glowing at how worked up you’d gotten him. You were so focused on feeling pleased with yourself you almost missed his hand traveling down to reach between your legs. Electricity shot up your spine as he flicked over your clit, a high-pitched, involuntary whimper coming out of your mouth.

“Big talk coming from someone who’s already dripping into my hand.” And you were. Rooster dragged his fingers through your folds, covering them in your wetness before he slid two into you. You moaned long and loud at the feeling. “Listen to that,” he said, voice low. He pumped his fingers in and out of you with precision, thumb rolling circles around your clit. “All it takes for you to finally quit arguing with me is to shove my hand down your pants.”

“I c-can’t,” you started, thoughts falling out of your head. All you could focus on was the feeling of his fingers delicately stretching you out, scissoring you open. They pressed in and slid along a spot on the inside of your walls that made your hips buck involuntarily, scream caught in your throat. If he kept doing this, you were going to cum into his hand, desperate as a teenager.

He gave you a couple more swipes along your clit, laughing out loud at the desperation of your whines, before sliding his fingers out. You watched, brain out-of-focus, as he shifted his position, pushing your knees further apart. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pressing your hips higher up, chasing the feeling of being full again. If he didn’t get inside you right now, you were going to scream, or cry, or god forbid, beg.

Rooster was impatient too. He pressed into you, both of you groaning at the feeling. The stretch was delicious, even with how slowly he was moving. “F-fuck,” you stuttered out. Rooster gave a couple deep thrusts, teasing, before setting a harder pace. With every thrust, he hit directly at the same spot from earlier, punching staccato moans from your throat.

“I like you more like this,” he panted out, eyes roaming around your face, taking in your disheveled hair and glassy eyes. “Can’t run your mouth with me this deep in you, huh?”

Tragically, he was right. You couldn’t string together coherent thoughts, nevermind words, with him burying himself in you over and over. Your mind was running a loop of his name, all other thoughts pushed aside. All you could do was cling on, working a hand between your bodies to rub over your clit. You felt yourself winding tighter and tighter, all the stresses you hadn’t realized you were carrying pulling taut in your body. You pulled Rooster’s mouth down to yours in a sloppy kiss and ended up panting into his mouth, breath pushed out of you by his measured thrusts.

A few more deep strokes and you were done for. You felt your body suspend in one brutal, blinding moment, teeth clamping down on to Rooster’s shoulder to stifle the scream coming out of your mouth. Rooster moaned at the feeling of you pulsing around him, thrusts starting to fall out of rhythm. He chased your hips with his own, as if he couldn’t help the need to be inside you. A few more desperate thrusts later and he pushed himself fully inside you one final time, muffling his own long moan in the crook of your neck.

The two of you laid there for a moment, catching your breath, before Rooster gently pulled out of you. He swung himself out of bed and walked over to the bathroom, presumably to clean himself up. You started to push yourself up onto your elbows, making to get up and leave. You weren’t sure he wanted you to stick around, and you’d rather leave before any awkward conversations came up. Right as you were about to drop your feet onto the floor, Rooster came back into the room, crawling back into bed.

“Where are you going?” He asked, voice bleary, soft.

“Thought you’d want me to leave,” you mumbled out.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

You didn’t, not really. You were tired from arguing and your limbs felt like jelly. All you wanted to do was curl up right next to Rooster and fall asleep. Whatever conversations the two of you would have to have, you could do it tomorrow. For now, you pulled the sheets back over the two of you, slotting your body in next to his. You felt an arm drape over your waist, pulling you close, before you feel into a deep, dreamless sleep.

#bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw smut #top gun fic #top gun maverick #aleks.docx #weehooo

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xzho-writes · 2 years

Text

in my dreams, i see you

pairings: diluc, zhongli, kaeya x gn!reader (separate)

genre: angst/no comfort

summary: even in sleep are they unable to seek respite from the visions that haunt them in the day

wc: ~4k; 1.3k (diluc) 1.5k (zhongli) 1.2k (kaeya)

warnings: angst, graphic depictions of violence, major character death, blood, spoilers for all three’s backstory, canon divergence (diluc + kaeya)

extra notes: i didn’t fit the rest of the guys in cause i felt like this idea works better for these three :’) i’m sorry diluc, zhongli and kaeya kissers. it’s our time to suffer-

you can find my masterlist here

diluc

as quick as the wind, diluc races his way to mondstadt on the back of a great black steed he stole from a wondering traveler. the smell of smoke permeated the air along with something much more ominous: the stench of burning flesh.

he yanks on the reigns of the horse harshly to spur it as fast as it can go, uncaring of the animals discomfort. he had someone to find and he had better do it as quickly as possible.

screams tore through the atmosphere soon enough and alerted him to the the city of freedom- the city he was so hellbent on protecting. it was ablaze in a flame so great that even he flinched from the heat, and his heart rate skyrocketed at the ghastly sight. quickly he got off his mount and started desperately yelling out a name so familiar to him, hands cupped by his mouth to better project his voice.

“y/n! can you hear me?!”

he was met with an eerie silence, save for the crackling of the fire that roared all around him. completely panicked at the lack of response he sprinted as fast as he could around the burning walls. where the hell were you?

“y/n!”

diluc was shoved by the onslaught of people rushing to escape the dire situation but he pushed and pushed until there was no one but himself in the now-empty city. his legs shook as he kept himself upright.

“y/n! it’s me, diluc! where are you?!” he pleaded with the distress of a dying man. his head whipped left and right at a frightening speed, alert to any sound that may draw him to you.

“call out for me! please! i’m here! i-”

suddenly, his breath hitched. in the corner of his peripherals he could make out the hauntingly familiar shape of someone’s figure, and his heart dropped. turning his head slowly he was met with something he thought he’d never lay eyes upon.

on the trunk of a cedar tree was the body of his beloved stapled to it by a spear through their torso. your mouth hung slightly agape with dried blood staining your lips down to your chin. the eyes that had once held so much vigour in them were now void and lifeless.

diluc swore that that was the day his heart stopped for good.

eyes blown wide and with an arm shakily outstretched towards you he tentatively made his way to your body, lungs starting to hyperventilate and hands trembling.

no, no, no, he murmured as he shook his head.

a part of him prayed that it was just another civilian who looked eerily similar to you but the golden ring around your left finger solidified the truth;

on the sickeningly red tree was his dearly beloved partner.

diluc fell to his knees the moment he stood beside you.

“d-darling…? hey,” his voice wavered, hands coming up to lift your face. “this isn’t funny.”

you didn’t answer- you couldn’t answer. didn’t give him that smile full of mirth as you usually did.

but diluc was no fool. he was many things, but a fool was not one of them. he had known as soon as he saw that wretched weapon lodged in your stomach that you were long gone. history liked to repeat itself, it seemed.

on his hands was not only the blood of his father but the blood of his recently departed spouse.

he was too late.

still on his knees he swiftly removed the weapon from your torso and gathered your cold body into his arms, rocking you back and forth and cursing celestia for what they did to you. the aching soul screamed vehemently, uncaring of whatever lay witness to his torment.

diluc cared not for the blazing city around him; cared not for the sweltering heat licking at his heels or for the several other torn bodies strewn across the city grounds. he couldn’t. not when he was holding his whole world in his arms.

he continued to hold and rock you back and forth until the next day came, signified by the sun starting to peak over the distant plains that could be seen past the stone gate. his knees protested in pain but still he had refused to let you go. all his strength had run dry at that point but he couldn’t fathom the possibility of having you slip from his grasp forever.

though you couldn’t hear him diluc continued to whisper broken promises and apologies into your matted hair, smoothing it down with his shaky hands. with newly forming salty pearls landing on your face he peppered kisses to your forehead and cheek.

how cruel, thought.

the sunrise glinted off the metal band on your finger as he held your hand gingerly, observing the physical manifestation of his devotion to you and lacing his fingers through yours. diluc pressed your lifeless hand to his cheek and leaned into your icy touch, breaking down once more.

the widower wakes with a start. a choked sob escapes his chapped lips as he allows himself to sink back down onto the plush mattress.

he curls up into himself, a pitiful mass of tangled limbs and sheets on his lonely king-sized bed. one side of the bed that used to be taken up by a person he called his partner remains cold, untouched by its owner. he claws frantically at his chest as he unsuccessfully wills the tears to stop cascading down his puffy face. silent whimpers left his already irritated throat in an attempt to dissipate the suffocating feeling of utter agony from his body.

i’m sorry, he wails. i’m so sorry.

but nobody could hear him mourning. all the maids and workers had left the winery to return to their own homes, no doubt welcomed warmly by people they loved.

diluc would never have that same experience ever again. not when you’re no longer there beside him.

the area that encased his lamenting heart was sore and stained red due to the nails that repeatedly raked over them, tearing the soft skin and allowing small rivulets of blood to seep down his aching body.

the golden band- no, your golden band- on a chain around his neck was his only source of stability and so he clutched onto it like a lifeline, kissing it over and over again in apology.

each day spent without you he could feel himself slipping further into madness, slowly losing himself to grief. he often wondered how much longer he could go on for; diluc woke up each day hoping it was his very last.

he was no longer vigilant when scouring mondstadt at night, almost throwing himself into danger willingly. there was no drive to protect the city he once cared for. after all, a flame cannot continue to flicker without its fuel. simply put he was merely a husk of his former self, and nobody understood this more than his brother- kaeya alberich.

diluc no longer payed any mind to any of the teasing remarks thrown at him. no grunts of acknowledgment as kaeya tried to converse with him. he only worked silently, eyes vacant and hollow as they stared at nothing in particular whilst tending to the bar. though the two are no longer as close as they used to be, kaeya still worries for his clearly afflicted brother.

it was scary in a way. kaeya could always make out what diluc was thinking- estranged relationship or not. he often liked to joke about how much he knew diluc, but nowadays he feared that was no longer the case. every attempt he made to console the widower ended up fruitless; diluc usually replied with a faint ‘i’m fine’, if he ever decided to reply at all.

the traumatising event happened months ago, seven to be exact, but the scars it left behind were as fresh as the day they were wrought on. a father, a brother and, so very recently, a significant other? his other half? his soulmate?

soon, my love. i’ll be there soon. just wait for me, okay?

the last ragnvindr approached a nearby fatui camp one still night, hands by his side and a small defeated smile on his visage. empty was his back that usually carried the famous wolf’s gravestone.

zhongli

morax gripped the vortex vanquisher in his hand with a force that could crush bones with ease. tense were the shoulders that held his anxious head and rigid was the tail that lashed behind him in frustration.

he was waiting atop a great mountain at the place the pair of you had decided on, pacing back and forth on unsteady feet. seconds turned to minutes and minutes to hours, and soon enough, three days had passed since your agreed meeting date.

morax had never felt such trepidation.

in the distance one of his adepti approached him with her head hung low and it was clear that something had shaken her. the sight in it of itself was unnerving, for it wasn’t easy to strike fear within an illuminated beast. in her hand was something that caught the rays of the sun.

it was the hilt of your sword; the sword that he remembered forging fondly with his own two hands. a gift for you.

“what is the meaning of this?” morax demanded immediately.

“my lord…” the adepti began hesitantly once she was arms length away, kneeling swiftly. “t-they… they said they wanted me to give this to you. my sincerest apologies, my lord.”

tentatively she proceeded to stand once more before her liege who was waiting with an outstretched palm. she knew better than to speak in this moment for she could see how morax was starting to lose his composure.

his figure was as taut as the string of the largest war-bow and his great tail had stilled behind him. eyes of liquid amber glowed brighter at the mention of a certain someone and if she looked closer, she would be able to notice how her lord’s chest rose and fell at twice the speed that was considered normal.

“where did you find them?”

“in the cave under mount. aocang-”

morax left in a blaze of golden fury before the adepti could finish her sentence. he had what he needed and he couldn’t bear, nor afford, to lay waiting even a second longer. she could only hope that what greeted her master wasn’t what she feared.

with the speed that he took off in, it took less than a few seconds to find the cavernous location he was informed of. morax summoned his mighty spear in preparation for whatever else lay inside the cave. one could never be too cautious in times of war.

with practiced silence he made his way past the entrance of the cave and continued his way further in, eyes sharp for the person he was looking for. he was about to call out for you when a voice sputtered out from the darkness.

“m-morax…?”

and his ears perked up immediately at the sound. who knew that the simple whisper of his name was all it took to make the hairs at the back of his neck stand straight?

“y/n!” he replied in a heartbeat.

“ov-over here…!” a weak cry.

in an instant, morax took off in the direction of your voice and gripped his spear tighter in case he needed to dispatch a few unfortunate enemies along the way. there were no such enemies, but what met him at the end of the tunnel was something he had not anticipated.

before him was your battered body; grisly were the wounds that tore open your skin and let loose the precious blood he hated to see spilled on the battlefield. throwing the pole-arm to the ground in reckless abandon, the prime of the adepti crouched down before you and carefully, but hurriedly, pulled you into his warmth. the vortex vanquished clattered loudly on the unforgiving ground.

as much as he was loath to admit it, you both knew that it was unlikely for you to step foot out of this cave alive. your breathing had already slowed and the blade he had crafted for you lay shattered not far from your body.

you smiled regretfully up at him, eyebrows scrunched and lips in a thin upwards curve, and were about to speak when he had pressed his thumb to your lips to quieten you.

“rest now, dear frien—” morax hesitated. closing his eyes and letting out a huff of resignation soon after, he clasped a large and clawed hand around your significantly smaller one and brought it to his own quivering lips. he hated how fragile it felt in his grasp. “rest now, dear.”

even your playful, stubborn nature had all but disappeared for you didn’t toy with him as you usually did. you simply nodded feebly. his chest ached and he could only guess that it was due to the stabbing pain in his heart. though he was unfamiliar with the concept of emotions you had, along with his friend guizhong, taught him enough about himself to know what these feelings were.

what he wouldn’t give to have you teasing him again. he had told you many times in the past that you were nothing but a pest, but you never relented your assault on his poor soul nor had he purposely shoved you away. he had never told you but, as centuries passed, he found himself growing accustomed to your presence.

yearning for you when you had to leave his side for whatever damned reason.

he closed his eyes bitterly at the overhanging truth that this would be your final meeting. you could barely give him a lucid smile and so, in that moment, he did what felt best.

slowly, tenderly, morax let his forehead rest upon yours in a plea of forgiveness, mindful not to let his sharp horns scrape your head. you relished in the shared moment of vulnerability with him, closing your eyes and trying your best not to whimper at the bittersweet realisation.

he begged for forgiveness for not having reached you sooner- for not having searched for you sooner.

however, most importantly, it was an attempt to convey all of his feelings for you. he prayed that you understood him, for he did not know how to voice his innermost feelings. he resented himself for it.

“you always have,” he vowed in a whisper as he held you tighter. “so,” a sob croaked past his lips, “please understand- just once more. please.”

the two of you stayed like that until he felt you go limp. like two perfectly fitted puzzle pieces ripped away from each other, only possible due to events neither of you could have foreseen.

morax, god of geo and of war, howled in such anguish that the mountains of liyue shook and the ground quaked for miles. all could feel his grief.

a cold sweat coated zhongli’s body as he tossed and turned for the nth time that evening, breathing deeply to try and alleviate the rising pain in his chest. he slung his forearm over his eyes and a quick glance at the open bedroom window told him that it was barely past midnight.

it was never easy reliving that memory etched deep within the crevices of his mind. the old saying ‘time heals all wounds’ didn’t seem to apply to the ex-archon; this laceration felt as painful as the day you left him. zhongli sighed wearily as he felt the familiar sting of liquid filling his bottom lash.

quickly he wiped the tears away and sat up in his cot, planting his feet on the hardwood floor. he donned a thicker robe to keep out the cold as he made his way to a certain drawer in his room. taking another deep breath to steady himself, he held the knob and drew the furniture out just enough to take a peek at what lay inside.

a sigh of relief slipped past his lips as he caught sight of the familiar lustre of metal. zhongli delicately picked up the object before making his way back to bed. laying on his side he observed your sword’s hilt as if he hadn’t been the one who made it, running his thumb up and down its body.

it was smaller in comparison to the ones he forged for himself- lighter in weight but no less effective. it was adorned in intricate engravings and a single gem of cor lapis fit snugly on end of the piece of metal. checking it over once again, he smiled sadly at the little heart you had carved yourself that was placed next to your initials.

but what always seemed to move him the most were the words carved underneath your name, another one of your little additions. zhongli clutched the item close to his heart as he silently wept and let sleep overtake him once more. only in this plane of twisted reality could he see you once again- even if he had to relive that damned moment over and over torturously.

the words on your hilt rang true, but he loathed how he couldn’t do the same for you.

the faded carvings read:

“y/n, mighty and illuminated beast. morax’s right-hand. nothing shall harm my lord so long as i stay standing.”

kaeya

“i am disappointed, kaeya. i sent you here to infiltrate and scout this city, not to get cosy with its filthy inhabitants,” seethed a hulking man with hair as dark as the deepest ocean. “you would do well to remember the consequences of treachery.”

you desperately raked at the hands that were crushing your windpipe, trying not to let panic consume you as you pitifully tried to free yourself.

“is this,” the man continued as he thrust you forwards, the pressure on your neck growing, “the reason for your disloyalty? why you switched sides?”

black dots started to accumulate in the corners of your vision as a pitiful sound akin to a sob escaped your blue lips. breathing had all but become an impossible task at that point.

somewhere in the distance you could make out the distorted voice of someone near you accompanied with the sound of drawing metal. at least, that’s what it seemed like. you couldn’t really tell what was going on around you with how feverishly you were trying not to fall into the realm of the unconscious.

“let them go!” the same person roared.

as you begged your vision to focus, the sight that greeted you shattered whatever strength you had left in your heart:

before you was kaeya; clothes torn and blood seeping out the numerous lesions on his body. it frightened you. in all the years you’ve spent fighting alongside him, kaeya was never one to sustain such grave injuries. he was the best of the best- the most agile of sword fighters.

what was most unusual, however, was the lack of black fabric that usually kept his left eye hidden. in your hazy state you could make out the faint glow of yellow emitting from his elusive eye.

“master alberich! we must retreat now- there are too many reinforcements!” yelled an abyss herald who seemingly appeared out of nowhere, blade clashing against a knight whose face was blurred.

the man now known to you as an alberich scoffed. “tch. open up the rift. i’ve confirmed my suspicions.” he still hadn’t released you.

panic set in now. you thrashed and trashed as much as your body would allow, but it was fruitless. the male who had you in his vice grip brought you to his eye level, inspecting you, and a wicked smile grew on his lips.

there was a loud foreign sound from behind you and, suddenly, your world was engulfed in darkness.

“NO!” boomed the younger alberich. as quick as he could kaeya sprinted his way towards your retreating figure, a hand outstretched for you.

“kaeya!” diluc, who wasn’t physically fairing any better, cried out behind him. “don’t be daft, you’ll get killed!”

the aforementioned man stopped suddenly and slowly turned around to look at diluc straight in the eyes. no words were exchanged but the look on the captain’s face said it all.

diluc gulped. he knew that look on kaeya’s face; it was the one of unwavering determination. he deduced instantly what this meant, and kaeya knew that he understood his intentions.

on shaky feet the ragnvindr made his way towards the lonely alberich and placed both hands on his shoulders, giving him a firm squeeze. then he took hold of the back of kaeya’s head and held his forehead against his own.

“be careful out there, you hear?” diluc spoke sternly. “i’ve lost a brother once. i’m not willing to go through that again.”

tears pricked at kaeya’s eyes as he nodded solemnly, squeezing the ragnvindr just as tightly.

the bluenette wasn’t sure how much time had passed just standing there with his brother but he broke away from the embrace shortly after. with a nod, diluc stood straight as kaeya inevitably turned his back on him. he could only watch as his only surviving family bolted towards the closing rift. though diluc was by no means the most devout believer, he prayed to whatever could hear him for the both of your safeties.

the eldest of the brothers had no concern for his health at that moment as he threw himself into the void. there was only one thing on his mind;

i’ll find you, he vowed. i’m coming.

kaeya groaned as something wet made contact with his once-resting face. the sensation became more frequent and so he finally willed his heavy lids to open. pushing himself off the ground, kaeya alberich sat up and noted the location he was in. it was raining.

ah, he mumbled mentally. he was in a makeshift camp he found along the way. though he had no idea why there would be a safe point in a location such as this, he wasn’t ungrateful. he had learned long ago to never take anything for granted. surveying the area once more he noted that what he was in was most likely a ruined village.

standing up proved to be a difficult task as his legs protested in pain at even the slightest pressure he put on them. he scanned himself over; his clothes were in complete tatters and red stained the ground he had previously laid upon. it wasn’t a pretty sight, to put it bluntly. a realisation befell him suddenly.

quickly he tore off a piece of his remaining clothing and bound the left side of his face. it wouldn’t do well to expose his identity in a place he assumed was connected to the abyss in some way.

as he continued to pat himself down to check his appearance, however, he felt a strange lump in one of his pockets. carefully digging his hands in and taking the offending object out, kaeya had to fight the urge to fall to the ground again.

it was your locket; one that he remembered gifting to you for your first anniversary. shakily his deft fingers coaxed the piece of metal open and the photo inside caused a tremble to make its way along his body, reverberating off his bones.

the worn photo depicted the two of you together. more specifically, he recalled that this was taken at angel’s share on his birthday. you had slid your palm up to cup his cheek and placed a loving kiss to the warm skin there, smiling contently if not with a little mischief. amber had been the one to capture the precious moment on the traveler’s kamera. there was an uncharacteristic flush on the captain’s face.

aww, look at you, kae! you look adorable! how’s it feel to be in my shoes, huh? he remembers how you gushed about the photo for days after the event.

although his heart bled and his body ached, a newfound resolution burned brightly within the broken man. quickly he dusted himself off and made his way forward, even if his legs screamed at him to stop and his lungs begged him for a moment of respite.

though kaeya had no clue where he currently was, he was certain of one thing: he’d travel across the ends of teyvat just to find you.

and he swore he would clasp that necklace around your neck even if it was the last thing he’d do.

what he failed to notice, however, was the body laying by a shallow ditch in the nearby vicinity.

published on 13/03/22

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #diluc x reader #zhongli x reader #kaeya x reader #genshin fanfic #diluc genshin impact #diluc ragnvindr #diluc #zhongli #genshin zhongli #kaeya alberich #kaeya #genshin kaeya #genshin angst #genshin headcanons

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heenuna · 2 years

Text

lavender garden; part 1

pairing: vampire!reader / human!heeseung

genre: vampire au, a kind of angst,

warnings: dom!reader, sub!heeseung, mentions of blood, death, funerals, kind of first love, deliberate betrayal (kinda)

word count: 4k+

tag list: @laxatives4hre @wntrsgf @sweetiehyuka @jngsngie @wakeyjaykey @fallinforgyu @moonxchan 🖤

part 2

it's been so many days since everything changed. centuries, decades.. time is rushing inexorably forward. people are born, grow old, and die, and you, as a silent witness, watch the course of their lives, not knowing whether your own life will move forward or whether you are frozen in eternity.

as you play with a rose stalk, you watch the funeral procession. a small group of people dressed in black sobs softly as the poor-looking coffin is lowered down into the pit. someone moans, someone cries softly, someone says goodbye to the deceased with a blank look. everything is the same as always. people don't change. they are still mortals.

your gaze, heavy as a monolith, falls on the scarlet petals. the rose has already begun to fade slowly, and you can't help it. its petals, delicate and delicate, gradually acquire a dirty shade, and it no longer looks the same as before. all flowers fade. all people die. it's just a truth worth accepting.

a faded rose. you think of all the roses you once plucked, and it becomes unbearable to look at the one that rests so gently on your fingers. its thorns, its nectar, the rose seems so perfect, but it's only a matter of time before it rots like any other rose. it simply has no choice.

and people don't have it. they just exist.

the clouds are slowly gathering, the street is getting dark and it's going to rain soon. drop by drop, drop by drop, it will fall down, people will run and hide from it, and you will only freeze in your place. how much rain have you seen? you've been soaked to the skin under it so many times already, it would be foolish to be afraid of it. it's just rain, it's just a cold drop enriched with ozone. it's just water.

when you took one last look at the mourners, you just smiled faintly and got up from the gravestone you were sitting on. judging by the dates, this is the burial place of some long-lived old woman. well, you hope she doesn't mind your temporary, short-term neighborhood. you don't care if she doesn't mind, you're already leaving anyway.

you walk at a moderate pace along the stone path, looking around at the graves and benches, and you think that you could also be lying here somewhere, dry and cold, slowly turning to dust. your remains would make a great meal for some worms, but no. they're not going to eat you. it's not your time yet.

passing the central gate and flowerbeds, you step out onto the deserted sidewalk and look around. there are no people in sight, only a bluish fog is visible from both sides. what time is it now? is it really evening already? it probably is. the street was wallowed in silence.

as you breathe the air out of your lungs with your mouth, you feel them contract in a barely perceptible spasm. your head gives in to a momentary weakness for a couple of moments, and you almost fall on the asphalt wet with fog. damn. the familiar stiffness in the arms and legs, the shortness of breath – a sure hunger syndrome. how long have you been eating? you can't even remember the last time right away, so it's a sure sign to go find something. or rather, someone.

your fangs ache uncomfortably at the thought of someone's warm blood. your hungry imagination conjures up a clear picture of veins, throbbing arteries, and warm skin that you'd be so happy to touch with your fingers. an imaginary smell of life and health fills your nostrils, and you exhale through your mouth again, realizing how hungry you really are.

your vision is slightly blurred as you walk through the streets and squares, trying not to give yourself away. people passing by don't even look at you, you seem to have merged with nature and ceased to be something important, and this is good. stealth now will help more than ever. you need to make the right choice. look around.

maybe this cute girl in the plaid dress? no, she's too small, and it would be a pity to leave bruises on her.

a weird guy in a hoodie? no, you shouldn't eat any rubbish.

or maybe.. your eyes quickly shift to another option that really seems different from the others: tall, slightly thin, standing at a bus stop. his already well-worn brown leatherette bag looks stuffed with something heavy. maybe some papers? as you can see, the shirt is wrinkled, probably from long work, and the suit, which is gaudy and dull black, looks quite cheap. gentlemen don't wear that. so he's just a student or an intern, one of two things. but it doesn't matter.

you move slowly in his direction with a familiar step, slightly accelerating when the oncoming bus comes into your field of vision. even from a distance, you can see how a stranger's facial expression changes when he, too, notices the approach of transport. his eyes widen slightly, and a small smile appears on his face. usually, facial expressions are the least of your worries, but this time you'd really like to see his full lips break into a smile again.

by the way, in one of the most charming smiles you've ever seen. cutie.

it's a good thing you can follow him. the bus is half-empty, and your target slowly passes along it, to the very end, and takes a place next to the window. you follow him. your feet are pleasantly warm from running heaters, and you are mentally glad that people have learned to take care of themselves. their bodies are so fragile, so soft, juicy and warm..

"excuse me, sir, can i sit here?" you stop right in front of a strange guy and lean forward a little to get a better look at his features. fortunately, he instantly turns to your voice, and a pair of large, shining eyes rests on you. they are a warm chocolate color, tempting to look out from under long lashes, slightly trembling with surprise. full lips of a delicate pink color, probably from constant bites, form the letter "o", and the tip of the pretty nose trembles slightly from inhaling. your perfume tickles his receptors too much.

"yes, yes, of course," he nods quickly, looking away, feeling his ears turn a little red. he wonders why such a beautiful girl chooses a seat next to him when there are still plenty of seats on the bus, why she smiles at him and why she smells so good and what kind of perfume is this? you seem to be rapidly occupying his thoughts. you can't hide the way he nervously clutches the strap of his bag, or the way he sneaks a smile, hesitating and not knowing whether to start a conversation or not to bother you. he's confused.

"i'm sorry, i must be very intrusive, but what's your name?" your question sends a dozen goosebumps down his spine, and he looks at you uncomfortably. his cheeks turn pink, giving his face a fresh, youthful look that makes you lose your head when you're hungry. he bites his lower lip a little, trying to sound as confident as possible, and you just stare at him. this guy is like the freshest rose that has just opened.

"lee heeseung.." the voice comes out somewhat shaky and quiet, but it's no less melodic. it envelops your head, your thoughts, and most importantly, briefly dulls your thirst, and you let out a relaxed sigh, smiling at it. he's too cute to take his life, but also too good to let go. you get lost in doubt, and greed literally takes over you.

"nice to meet you, I _____. you're so beautiful," the words come out of your mouth and, of course, completely destroy what you've already built up. his cheeks, which were just pink before, are covered with a deep blush, as if for the first time he found out how beautiful he is. his whole body tenses at the compliment, and a sweet smell begins to waft through the air, like lavender, something so sweet that it feels like thousands of acres of the freshest spring flowers. you can barely make out the sound, but you already know that it completely fascinates you. his eyes run excitedly over the metal floor of the bus.

"t-thank you, it was unexpected.." his confused babble makes your insides tighten in a pleasant spasm again, and you lean in a little closer, making mistake after mistake. the smell gets stronger, and you rush to inhale it, just so that no one can touch it now that he's so close.

"i'm sorry, i'm just being blunt. by the way," you pause a little, leaning even closer to his neck. he freezes, this closeness with a strange girl both beckons and scares, and hee just gets lost in the sensations. right and wrong are mixed into one, "you smell so good, what kind of perfume is this?"

heeseung frowns slightly, trying to piece together the last of his sober thoughts and remember what kind of perfume he's wearing. the truth is that the boy doesn't wear perfume, and if you were in your right mind, instead of lavender and freshness, you would only smell old papers, cheap soap, and, oddly enough, sweat. such an unromantic outcome might have come out, if not for the hunger that romanticizes the desired prey.

"i-i don't wear any.."

"so you smell good on your own.." you move very close to his neck, feeling the life pounding nervously in his veins. it's like music to your hungry ears. as much as you'd like to attack him right now, this tactic isn't the best one, so you need to be careful. you need to be smarter.

"t-thank you.." up close, his voice seems even more melodic, and you shrug your shoulders at his modest thanks, watching the carotid artery throb under your thin skin. so beautiful and so delicious. the sound of his moans is already ringing in your ears, but you should be more focused, you're on the prowl.

"i'm sorry to embarrass you so much," you find the strength to pull away from him, and he exhales calmly, relaxing. his eyes come back up to you, and he relaxes even more at your embarrassed smile. a warm feeling slowly spreads through his heart.

"no, no, it's okay, you smell good too.." if he could, he would copy your movement and also cling to your neck, but his back feels like it's made of stone and he can barely move his head smoothly without fear of doing something awkward. it only amuses you. so many centuries of studying people have not been in vain, and you can say with confidence that the fish is hooked and enthusiastically beats its fins, waiting for you to pull the rod.

"do you work in court? you're wearing the right suit, you must be a lawyer, " you gaze dreamily at his body, not caring if your lie is obvious or not. your mind is completely occupied with imagining how you will finally pinch it somewhere around the corner and start your feast. he would definitely start to feel shy, naively assuming that you wanted him, but once your fangs sank into his warm, soft neck, he wouldn't be so sure. his hands would reach out to push you away, but..

speaking of hands. when you look down at his hands, you can't help but notice how beautiful and delicate his fingers look, decorated with calluses from constant writing. they twitch, contract, slide over each other, making your imagination draw another picture. he's lying on white sheets, without clothes or anything else, and you can enjoy the way his body smells alluring, the way his blood boils, the way his heart beats, full of charming feelings for you. you imagine being able to kiss the back of his hand, then his wrist, then each finger individually.

you're sure his skin feels incredibly soft on your tongue, and just thinking about it takes your breath away. not sure if it's because of thirst or not, you bite your lower lip, deciding not to ruin this boy. just killing it would be a blasphemy against nature and aesthetics, being created so beautiful is a gift that has its own purpose. you're pretty cocky to say he was made for you.

"oh, no, i.." he stutters for a second, trying to frame the sentence in a way that doesn't make him look like a jerk in front of you, "..i'm still in school and i have an internship there, but i'm already promised a good position because i'm bright and good at studying.."

his heart sinks a little when he notices how thoroughly you're looking at it. a pleasant chill passes over my stomach, my cheeks turn even more pink, and my thoughts are already going somewhere far away. while your eyes are lowered, he has the opportunity to examine your facial features and be surprised at how beautiful you are.

the way your hair lies, the way your eyelashes flutter, the way you sit and smile at something, every detail of you seems unreal, as if you stepped out of the pages of classic novels that he read in his youth.

the fact that you've noticed someone as extraordinary as he is, he sees it as a great success. for the first time in his life, he feels special, someone who finds himself in the center of events, and someone who causes interest.

"no wonder you have such prospects," your lips slowly break into a smirk when you finally look up from his fingers. something in your eyes whispers to him about danger and risk, but he ignores all the flags and signs, his thoughts and heart are already rushing towards you. some stranger showed interest in a loser, that's the plot!

anyway, tactics are tactics, and a plan is a plan, and you have to follow it so that the main prize really goes to you. so it's time to take a step back..

you look at the window and make a slightly surprised expression on your face, exclaim, "oh, i think it's my stop!" from the frightened and worried expression on his face, you understand how much he is confused, and that's why from now on the initiative will be his. heeseung must fulfill his role.

you lean closer to him and smile and whisper, "baby, my number is 5914874, be sure to call me when you get home, and.." doubts are swaying a little, you are not acting according to your principles right now, but the hunger is too strong and you want to get everything at once, so you have to step out of your comfort zone and be a little more careful.

placing your hand gently on his cheek, you smooth your thumb over his cheekbone as your lips break into a smile. the skin of his face is so soft that you could snuggle up to it forever, but the bus stops slowly, time running out. you look into his eyes, which are shining with surprise, once again, finishing your sentence, "..don't even think that i won't find you."

to any normal person, such a phrase from a stranger would seem like a threat, but not to heeseung. the way you tenderly made him realize that he was needed, made everything in the world lose its meaning for him. you're waiting for his call. you're waiting for him. the storm of thoughts is dizzying, everything is confused, only a clear set of seven digits remains motionless. you can't forget them. 5914874 is the number of his lucky ticket to a new, finally not so gray life.

he is only 21, he is young and has everything ahead of him. a beautiful girl is waiting for his call. the day is a success.

and your day was a success, too. this can't just be a coincidence. this is a real gift of fate. as you breathe in the cold air, you can still smell the strong scent of lavender floating around you. your palms can still feel the warmth of his skin. damn.

who would have thought that the hunt would go so well. yes, your insides are still cramped with hunger, but your thoughts are filled to the brim with just the boy named lee hiseong. fucking angel lee hiseun.

humming a strange, cheerful tune, you quickly put your house key in the lock and open the door, literally flying inside. the door slams shut, but that's nothing. you don't hear it. why, you don't see anything. there's only hisung in front of you. how is it that only an ordinary person can turn your head?

you don't have an answer to this question, but you do know that the world will soon reward you for your patience. and your reward will be a regular feeding of the best blood of the best boy.

speaking of blood quality.

you can't help but think that modern students hardly take care of themselves, which means that the quality of their health and blood suffers.

ugh. just the thought of tasteless blood soaked in chemicals and excess sugar gives you a nervous shiver. and if he is?

worry doesn't have time to take over your thoughts. you exhale calmly. "i'll just feed him properly and take care of his body, and then the blood will be fine. well, he will pass a couple of tests, well, i'll take him to the springs or to the mountains, will all this spending scare me? " of course not. after all, if you plan to keep it, you should learn to take care of something so fragile and precious.

damn, that's right. an hour ago, you wanted to kill him somewhere on the street, leaving his body drained of blood to the worms and birds. how quickly a cute adorable boy changed your position. "you're probably getting old," you tell yourself, looking in the mirror. your fingers lazily adjust your tangled curls.

suddenly, the dull silence of your lair is broken by the funny beeping of a landline phone. when you looked at the reflection of its black plastic surface, you smiled a little and turned around, reaching it in a few steps. your fingers confidently wrapped around the thin base, bringing the phone closer to your lips, " yes, baby?"

a few strange noises on the other end of the phone let you know that it really was heesung.

"uh, _____?" his voice sounds a little choked and unnatural, probably squeezing his shoulders or neck nervously as he tries to anticipate your next sentence and prepare an answer in advance. so cute and shy, you slowly twist a lock of hair around your finger, listening intently as he nervously inhales and exhales air from himself.

"yes, it's me. i've been waiting for your call, heeseung," you deliberately emphasize his name, spreading your lips in a smile so that your voice sounds as happy as possible. you could understand, you didn't know the boy very long ago, and you were hungry, so you'd either have to be fully armed, or you'd give up and give him up to someone else.

they'll do fine, you need this person.

"t-thank you for keeping me waiting. i accidentally fell on the way home, so i was late, " heeseung's leg twitched instinctively, his pants sticking to his bare skin, and he winced, not understanding why he was even telling such ridiculous things about himself. he just wants to talk.

excessive damage = the smell of blood, and you can't attract someone else's attention. after all, not only you will want a tasty morsel. "are you all right? did you damage anything?"

heeseung's heart warms, his cheeks turn even more pink, and he doesn't realize that both of his hands are gripping the phone in the most gentle way. "no, no, it's just a broken knee and a scratch, it'll heal quickly," he cheerfully reassures you, or so he thinks.

in fact, it's not so much the bruises that are bothering you as the oozing blood on your knee. damn. imagining the blood trickling slowly down his skinny legs, you exhale a little louder than usual, and heeseung flinches a little. your brain begins to actively select possible situations in which you could make a similar sound, from the most innocent to the dirtiest. the latter seem to him quite out of the ordinary.

"do you have a first aid kit?"

the flowing blood must be stopped. for example, with your tongue. or better yet, a blindfold. but you're hungry.. i'm so thirsty. the throat makes itself felt with an unpleasant burning sensation.

"yes, _____, i have everything. by the way, are you free on wednesday? " the unobtrusive question is incredibly difficult for him. his fingertips don't stop stroking the edges of the plastic tube until he can already hear your refusal in his mind and imagine you, so sweet and gorgeous, going to the most expensive restaurant with some rich guy. a chill runs through his chest and gets stuck somewhere in the middle, starting to choke him.

of course, what does he have? he's just a student who sits in the cafeteria during recess and works part-time on weekends sorting through paperwork. the house he lives in is rented. why, he doesn't even have a decent suit. what kind of dates? heeseung bites his lip guiltily, blinking his eyes in shame and frustration at himself, "damn, no, no, i'm sorry, i.."

"are you asking me out? i'm so glad. actually, i wanted to ask you out myself, but since you asked first.. where do we go? i like a pizza place out of town.. " you interrupt him with a practical one as soon as you sense that he's trying to get off the hook. grandpa always told you to be on time, so it's time to take that advice.

pizza place? what a liar you are. you laugh to yourself, thinking that you've never been a fan of pizza and haven't eaten it in 100 years, but then again, this is your tactic. heeseung is an ordinary student, with a small, unstable salary, an old, shabby suit and a crumpled shirt. but he's also the boy with the most sparkling eyes in the world and the softest skin in the world, so it's not hard to play along. let him feel like he's in charge as long as you like it.

"d-do you mind?" heeseung asks more of himself than you. the ground is slowly slipping out from under his feet. once again during this day, you turn a poor student into someone special, once again you don't follow the pattern, and once again you make heeseung's heart beat a little faster. he happily wipes his sweaty palm on his already dirty jacket.

"i want to go where you want to go, ____," you laugh happily, which makes heeseung think that his just-made-up cliché phrase has some effect on you, but in fact, we all know how cute boys who try to appear serious are in your eyes. will it go where you want it to go? a bold statement.

"great, then let's go there. i live at 184 north 6th street, what time will you pick me up?"

"a-around 6pm, is it okay?" he bites his lips in embarrassment once again and then immediately nods in relief when he hears your "uh-huh".

looking at your reflection in the mirror, you can not help but build a sly smile on your face. your fish swims by itself in the net, and you don't even need to do anything. he does everything by himself, "yes, of course, i wish it was wednesday," your dreamy voice, his trembling hands, it's like a fairy tale that finally happened to heeseung. he sprawls out, his back against the wall, his head raised to look up at the old, redecorated ceiling.

"y-yes, i'm looking forward to.." he barely whispers, his lips dry from constant biting, closing his eyes and losing himself in his reverie.

"yeah, we'll have a great time together, babe. and i have to go, i have work to do, but you can call me if you need to. and yes, don't be late," you quickly kiss the edge of your pipe and put it down, stretching contentedly.

if this isn't a heart attack, it's like cupid's arrow piercing the heart of a poor law student.

#kpop fluff #kpop imagines #enhypen imagines #enhypen imagine #enhypen heeseung #heeseung x reader #reader x heeseung #heeseung imagines #heeseung fluff #lee heeseung #sub!enhypen #sub!heeseung #dom!reader #sub!idol

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catlordewrites · 2 years

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Black Herons - Ch.1

Summary: “Find love wherever you like, but never marry for love. Your title belongs to House Atreides—use it to strike the best possible bargain.” The best possible bargain arises in the form of Lady Rhiannon, a widowed Countess from a Minor House on a distant planet that, until very recently, had been consumed by centuries of war. The marriage alliance will gain House Atreides unlimited access to the planet’s untapped riches, but unbeknownst to Duke Leto, his new wife is far more dangerous than he ever could have anticipated.

Masterlist - Ao3 - Next Chapter

A/N: Made up a story to entertain myself with while I’m reading the Prelude to Dune books. Decided to try and write it because I had a fic craving and couldn’t really find anything that fit and of course you should always write what you want to read. I don’t really think there’s much call for this kind of story, but I thought I’d go ahead and post the first few chapters to check for interest.

Pairing: Duke Leto Atreides x Fem!OC (slow burn)

Rating: M

Word count: 4k

Chapter One: Messengers

Eleven years. Six years of war. Four of rebuilding. One of grief.

Rhiannon was angry.

She cut a noble figure, framed against the pale evening light filtering in through the tall windows. Her poise was that of a soldier, head held high and spine perfectly straight, but her alabaster skin cloaked in fine silks marked her as noble-born. Although the room was warm, she drew her fur lined cloak tighter around her as she watched the snow float soundlessly down onto the watery gray courtyard.

Angry at her idiot brother and his council of vultures, angry at the godforsaken planet she’d put so much effort into, angry at the situation, but most of all, angry at herself. At how careless she’d been. Not even the snowflakes drifting idly on the other side of the council room window could ease her mood.

The result of her carelessness lay innocuously at the end of the great table behind her. A letter. Meticulously written on thick stationary in an elegant, swirling hand. Not so much as a smudge or stray drop of ink betrayed the speed at which it must have been drafted and sent. Even the way it was folded indicated great care: trifolded to fit within a sealed envelope, each seam separated by precisely a third of the paper’s length, each perfectly straight. The only imperfection was in the drop of red wax, a slight splatter that made the hawk of the Atreides seal look as if it were dripping blood.

Every seat at the great table was occupied by a member of the House Dering council, but none of them dared move, let alone speak. The lush, carpeted room was dead silent, save for the cracking of the fire in the hearth. Less than a year prior, many of them had been working for her, and knew just how dangerous she could be when cornered. Because even though she actively commanded the room, she was in a corner, and they were the ones that had backed her into it.

Rhiannon intoned a sigh, feeling a bit of the righteous anger boiling in her blood slip away, replaced by the fog of resigned indifference that had consumed her every waking moment for the better part of a year.

Everything had been different since Hetta‘s death. Rhiannon had been different.

As far as the Landstraad was concerned, House Dering had brought peace to the planet Iro. Those who lived on Iro, however, who were in the know and had survived the last decade of politics, knew the driving force behind the carnage to be the Dowager Countess.

The Imperial fiefs for Iro had been small and scattered across the planet’s surface like crumbs cast out for birds, each left to establish order and to tap the precious resources hidden beneath the planet’s surface. Because of this, there was more than one Countess of Iro, and a few of those also happened to be widows. But on Iro, if someone referred to the Dowager Countess, you knew exactly who they were talking about.

The letter’s authors were not from Iro. They had specified. Repeatedly. ‘— House Atreides respectfully appeals to The Honorable Viscount Larion Dering, Head of Minor House Dering, Guardian of The Honorable Dowager Countess Rhiannon Varvara, to inquire as to the eligibility of The Dowager Countess Rhiannon Varvara — ’

The Dowager Countess Rhiannon Varvara. The Dowager Countess Rhiannon Varvara. Over and over again, they referred to her by her full title. No she. No her. No simple Dowager Countess or Lady Varvara. Like if they weren’t incredibly specific there would be a misunderstanding and they would accidentally agree to marry their stupid Duke to the wrong woman.

Rhiannon knew she wasn’t being entirely fair. The wording wasn’t intended to offend her in any way. Quite the opposite, in fact. Perhaps she’d been a bit spoiled. Larion was an idiot, and for the better part of the last decade, she had been the power behind his office. Everyone who had wanted to deal with House Dering had quickly learned which sibling they had to win over, and that treating Rhiannon as an extra chess piece and not a fellow player was a quick way to make a dangerous enemy.

That must be it, the source of her anger. Arranging a marriage for political gain didn’t offend her, not even when she was the one getting married.

No, it was the fact that these negotiations had been going on for months without her knowledge, to the point where the letter was just a formality. The messenger that had delivered it to them was waiting in the next room, ready to carry back the response so the wedding arrangements could begin immediately.

It was the fact that her enemies had taken advantage of her grief over the loss of her daughter to move against her. Then, to add insult to injury, House Atreides hadn’t once bothered to meet with her personally to see if she was actually willing to go through with the deal or even to check if she was suited to be Duchess of Caladan.

To them, Rhiannon’s opinions didn’t matter. She didn’t matter. A means to an end, and nothing else.

Atreides may not have intended to offend, but to Rhiannon, there was no greater insult. And she was pissed.

But it was too late for anger. She had two choices: resist or relent. Even with her dilapidated resources, she still had quite a bit of influence in dangerous circles. Should she choose to try and reclaim what they had taken from her, even though she would almost inevitably lose, it would mean another long and bloody war that would cripple House Dering and threaten the newly established hierarchy.

Her enemies knew that, which was why they were marrying her off into an off-world family instead of trying to kill her outright. In their eyes, this was a solution that benefitted both parties; Rhiannon would be taken far away from Iro and no longer pose a threat to them, and in turn, Rhiannon would climb the social ladder to a previously unattainable position. Widow to wife. Countess of very little to Duchess of Caladan. The very things they believed to be every woman’s dream.

And, of course, Minor House Dering would gain the support and protection of a Great House, a particularly influential one, at that.

Larion, braver than the members of his council in the face of his sister’s wrath, stood and rounded the table.

“Rhia,” he beseeched, lifting up a hand with the intent of resting it on one of her narrow shoulders, before thinking better of it. Four years his senior, his sister had often been the guiding force in his life. He didn’t like to see her upset, even if he didn’t understand what there was to be upset about. “A lot of work has gone into arranging this for you. A new start, that’s what you need. You have too many bad memories here. This is your chance to move on. Start again.”

Rhiannon could’ve laughed at his choice of words. She knew exactly which of the vultures at his table had whispered them into his ear. Poor Larion, always such a puppet. There was no telling the ways they would pull his strings with Rhiannon out of the picture.

When she didn’t respond, Larion heaved a sigh. “Be sensible, please? Sit down. Read the proposal properly. We need to come to a decision quickly.”

“I believe the decision has already been made,” Rhiannon said coldly. “And as I am a woman, there is no seat for me at your council’s table.”

“Nonsense,” he said, not understanding. “I’ll have a servant pull one up for you.”

Rhiannon turned away from the window and surveyed the room almost lazily, the perfect manifestation of haughty disinterest. “No. I’m tired of the company you keep. Do what you must, brother, but I’m going home.

With that, she gathered her cloak around her shoulders and swept out of the room. No one tried to stop her.

After nearly thirty generations, the planet Iro was finally important.

The mines on Iro were thought to be some of the most bountiful within Imperium space. The planet was brimming with enough iron, coal, gold, silver, precious gems, and other raw materials to build an empire, but the constant infighting between houses made it nearly impossible to reach them. There was always another blood feud. Continuous warfare between the Minor Houses drained resources and made mining extraordinarily dangerous. Borders and territories were established, erased, and redrawn so often that it was impractical for wealthier Houses from other planets to barter for mining rights.

Now, after centuries, Iro presented a united front. Over the course of six years, one Minor House had clawed its way to the top and forced settlement amongst the rest. It was messy. It was brutal. But at last, after centuries, it was over.

After five years of progress unimpeded by kanly, the existing mines and quarries were more productive than ever and new ones were being built around the clock. Now that Iro finally seemed ready to truly engage with the rest of the Imperium, the larger, wealthier houses were circling once more, citing old treaties and making grand promises, all in hopes of staking a claim to the enormous wealth that was slowly, but steadily, edging within reach. House Atreides was no exception.

As the northern hemisphere of Iro tilted further into spring, the preparations for Rhiannon’s wedding were well underway. The ceremony was to take place on Caladan, but both Rhiannon and House Atreides still had a lot of unfinished business on Iro that needed to be addressed first.

For House Atreides, that mostly meant fleshing out business agreements, touring mining sites, conducting land surveys, buying equipment from other planets and arranging it to be sent to Iro, and setting up a central hub from which to conduct it all. For Rhiannon, it meant working out wedding details from millions of light years away, preparing to move her household and staff to another planet, extensively researching House Atreides and its enemies, quietly planting socio-political seeds and spies across a dozen planets, and discreetly monitoring everything House Atreides, House Dering, and the rest of Iro were doing from a safe distance.

Rhiannon still hadn’t met her betrothed and was trying hard to not feel insulted about it. Duke Leto was on Iro, and had been since long before Rhiannon had discovered just how interested he was in establishing a firm Atreides presence on Iro. Though, more accurately, he was above the planet, and had been spending most of his time on an Atreides Frigate in orbit for security reasons, but frequently came down to the planet’s surface to oversee everything firsthand. This meant that he was a frequent guest of Dering House Hall, but Rhiannon hadn’t been back to the family home since she’d walked out on the council meeting the night they presented her with the proposal, and she had no intention of returning without good reason.

Instead, she chose to stay at Black Heron Hall, a beautiful stonework mansion situated on her own property a few thousand kilometers away. It had been part of the dower from her first marriage and was located on the fringe of what used to be House Varvara lands. House Varvara itself had more or less been absorbed by House Dering, but Rhiannon had grown fond of the jagged, snow capped mountains and rugged evergreen forests, and had made it her permanent residence.

And anyway, as the higher ranking individual, it was the Duke’s right to control where and when their first meeting would be. If he wanted to meet her, he would either summon her to Dering House Hall or ask to be received at Black Heron Hall — she would comply with either without complaint — but any initiative on Rhiannon’s part would be considered socially improper.

It was a bit aggravating, but a personal peeve, and therefore irrelevant. Otherwise, Rhiannon was perfectly capable of managing her affairs from Black Heron Hall through the constant stream of information from her own personal web of spies threaded all across the planet.

That information web was one of the reasons she was at loath to leave Iro. She had people who she trusted to maintain it in her absence, but was also hyper aware of the fact that there wasn’t anything like it waiting for her on Caladan. It had taken her years to build, and she was having to start from scratch in order to create the same thing at her new home. Until then, she would be effectively blind.

“It’s not that bad,” said Aunt Elsbeth as they walked together on a footpath that weaved throughout the grounds, heading for the ponds to watch the fish. “You’re hardly the first woman to marry and move to another world. And you’ll have twice the resources on Caladan. You're more than clever enough to learn to use them.”

Lady Elsbeth Levin wasn’t Rhiannon’s actual aunt, but the younger sister of Rhiannon’s late husband’s mother. Elsbeth had moved into the Varvara household after the death of her own husband, the late Lord Levin, some twenty years earlier. She was in her fifties, tall and beautiful. Her soft voice and sweet smile were the first things people noticed about her, but behind them hid a vicious intellect and equally vicious libido.

Rhiannon hummed. “Easier said than done.”

Rhiannon had first met Elsbeth at her wedding to Count Bence Varvara. When Rhiannon had been twenty and still naïve enough to believe that marriage guaranteed a life filled with love and safety, Elsbeth had been nothing but kind. Two years later, when Rhiannon had been battered, pregnant, and terrified for her own life and that of her unborn daughter, Elsbeth had given her the means to save herself.

Since then, Elsbeth had been one of Rhiannon’s most trusted advisors, and the rock she had clung to when everything had suddenly fallen out from under her.

“Well, naturally,” Elsbeth sniffed. “But it’s a right smart match, and a far better arrangement than the others you can expect, given your situation.”

An uninformed observer might think that the ‘situation’ Elsbeth was referring to was Rhiannon’s state of widowhood, which was partially true. A widow, even a young one, couldn’t expect to attract the same caliber of suitors that she had for her first marriage. But as Rhiannon had no true interest in remarrying, Elsbeth was referring to the political situation that had cornered her into marriage in the first place.

If Rhiannon stayed on Iro, she would eventually be killed, one way or another. By marrying a noble from another planet, especially one powerful enough to protect her, she had become untouchable. The guards at Black Heron Hall had already seen their ranks bolstered by a squad of Atreides soldiers. The safety of the future Duchess of Caladan was being taken very seriously.

“A smart match,” Rhiannon echoed dryly. “You said that about Bence.”

Elsbeth tutted. “Because that’s what you’re supposed to say when someone marries your nephew. Bence was a brute, and everyone knew it. This one, ‘Leto the Just’, they call him. He’s got a good reputation. I mean it this time. It is a good match.”

It was, actually. Political advantages aside, they did seem to be suited to each other. Both were in their late thirties, objectively attractive, had extensive political experience, and, were Hetta still alive, would’ve both had children that were about the same age. Even though it would likely be a loveless marriage, they would make a handsome couple.

Rhiannon hummed acknowledgement, which Elsbeth took as permission to continue.

“And even if he isn’t all that they say, he’ll probably be content to just ignore you. Imagine that! You won’t even have to carry his children. Or even lie with him, if you don’t want to.” She paused. “I would want to, though. He’s a handsome man, it would be a waste not to.”

Rhiannon let out an inelegant snort. “You say that like you wouldn’t fuck a troll. And anyway, I don’t think it’s up to me. They were very clear that I should manage my expectations about… physical intimacy.”

They had been abundantly clear. Shortly after the engagement was made official, Black Heron Hall had been approached by an Atreides representative, who, in an effort to make a potentially uncomfortable discussion less awkward, had spoken to Rhiannon through her lady-in-waiting. Which, of course, made what should have been a perfectly reasonable discussion about boundaries and expectations between Rhiannon and Duke Leto into an annoying little game of telephone.

Rhiannon’s lady-in-waiting, Mariona, had been a good sport about it. She faithfully presented the representative’s statements to her mistress, then gamely returned with the responses, even going as far translating Rhiannon’s irritation into professionally composed answers.

The Duke has a son and heir, and does not intend to sire any children by his future Duchess. Will the Countess take issue with this?

(Oh, thank God.) The Countess has no personal interest or need for children. Barring the unlikely event where a child is required for political reasons, she does not desire to bear any more children.

The Duke has expressed the desire to remain exclusive to his concubine, Lady Jessica, and does not intend to join the Countess on the marriage bed. He hopes she will not take offense to this.

(Whatever.) The Countess understands that the union is political in nature, and respects the Duke’s decision to remain faithful to the mother of his son.

The Countess will, of course, be allowed to take lovers, so long as she does not become pregnant by them.

(Fuck off.) The Countess acknowledges this allowance and is quite familiar with safe sex practices.

“Oh yes, Lady Jessica.” Elsbeth nodded sagely. “That might be an issue, of course. Humans can be such jealous creatures. But you know what I’d do about that. I’d — ”

“You’d fuck them both.”

“— fuck them both,” Elsbeth went on as if Rhiannon hadn’t spoken. “Then there’s no room for jealousy. Your husband’s concubine may feel the need to compete with you, and that almost never turns out well. It’s best if everyone is in love with everyone.”

Rhiannon arched an eyebrow, equal parts amused and exasperated. “It’s an option, but not everyone likes sharing, you know. I’ll play it by ear. Otherwise what happens between them is their business.”

Elsbeth didn’t look convinced. “Do what you feel is right, of course. Just be sure that you don’t get lonely. I still say that you should take one of your lovers from here with you. That way you’ll have someone on Caladan that understands your needs.”

Rhiannon recognized the concern in her aunt’s tone, and smiled fondly. “Don’t worry. I’ll manage.”

They rounded the edge of the garden and started their way back. There wasn’t much foliage to look at this early in the spring, but the mountains were always breathtaking. Ice still floated around the edges of the fish ponds, the marbled orange and white fish wandering lazily from one end of the shallow pool to the other and back again.

As always, seeing the fish sent a pang of loss through Rhiannon’s chest. But with it was a comforting ache. Her mind drifted to warm summer days, to the mop of blonde curls dangling just above the water’s surface, to small, delicate hands dropping bits of fish food into waiting mouths. One by one.

She couldn’t take the ponds with her. Or the fish. Maybe that was the most devastating thing of all. The last real connection she felt with her daughter, and she was being forced to leave it behind along with Hetta’s grave.

Rhiannon was jerked out of her thoughts by a flurry of movement from the main house. Loah, one of Rhiannon’s handmaids, hurried out the nearest door. She did a quick turn to scan for her mistress, then bustled across the garden towards them.

Upon reaching them, she bobbed a quick curtsy. “M’Lady.”

“Hello, Loah,” Rhiannon said pleasantly. Loah was Mariona’s younger sister, seventeen and still a bit nervous when interacting with nobility. Hopefully in a few years, she would earn the title afforded to her sister. Rhiannon always made a point of being patient with her. “Is there a problem?”

“I’m not sure, m’Lady.” Since Mariona had gone ahead to Caladan to manage Rhiannon’s affairs from that end, many of Mariona’s duties had fallen to Loah. Loah was extremely bright and exceptionally capable, but had yet to develop Mariona’s intuition, which came with experience. “We’ve received word from our sources at Dering House Hall that a ‘thopter carrying two high ranking Atreides officials has left there, bound for here. But there has been no word from any official channels.”

Rhiannon frowned thoughtfully. “That’s interesting. Did they say which officials?”

“Thufir Hawat and Duncan Idaho.”

“The Master of Assassins and the Master of Swords,” Elsbeth mused. “Why would he send them here? Why now? And why keep it a secret?”

Rhiannon pursed her lips thoughtfully. “It would make sense if they thought that there was to be an attempt on my life. But I find it doubtful that they’d discover a plot before us.”

“Perhaps they suspect you’re plotting against the Duke?”

“I’ve done nothing,” Rhiannon reasoned, “and I can think of no one who would benefit from them suspecting me. Not this early. There may be some trouble with that after I become Duchess, but not before.”

“M’Lady?”

Rhiannon gave Loah her full attention, causing her to shuffle nervously. “What is it, Loah?”

“I was thinking,” she started tentatively, “about patterns, like Mariona said to. I’ve noticed that the Master of Assassins always visits a new place before the Duke. To secure it before he arrives.”

The two older women shared a glance.

“The Duke is scheduled to leave for Caladan in a few days,” Elsbeth pointed out. “It would make sense for him to visit you before he does.”

“Why the secrecy, though?” Rhiannon shook her head, annoyed all over again. “Nevermind. Very nicely done, Loah. Thank you. Inform the staff that I’ll be receiving Hawat and Idaho in my study. Then go to the kitchens and quietly inform the cooks that we are expecting the Duke of Caladan by dinner, and they are to prepare a simple meal. Nothing fancy, but enough to feed all our guests.”

Loah nodded and hurried off. Elsbeth watched her go, a frown pulling at the fine lines on her face.

“This isn’t the time to be informal, surely?”

Rhiannon started walking again, following after her handmaid at a much more leisurely pace. “Except we aren’t supposed to know they’re coming, remember?”

“All the same. You don’t want your future husband to be underwhelmed, either.”

She considered this, plucking a tiny new leaf from a skeletal bush as they passed. She examined it critically for a moment, then rubbed it between two fingers until it turned into a minuscule ball.

Rhiannon flicked the pulp away and said, “If my betrothed wanted to be impressed, he would’ve announced his decision to visit ahead of time. Clearly, this is to be a casual interaction.” She raised her hands in a mock helpless gesture. “Who am I to contradict him?”

“Fine. But I get to help decide what you wear, at least. No niece of mine is going to meet her husband dressed in her lounge wear. I won’t stand for it.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, El.”

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