#the century is coming to a close when she finally frees him and she is older so much older and corvo will have to live with losing her

[no-light-left-on]

I often wonder about the quote-unquote logistics of Corvo the Black/Emily the Butcher endings. Emily makes more sense to me, in a way, carving her way through the empire only to come back with blood caked under her fingernails and realising that she did everything her father refused to do 15 years ago. but why did Corvo have a similar choice?

what happens to the statues later? does Emily keep her father trapped in stone? does Corvo look at his daughter, frozen in the moment and considers freeing her? is he at his deathbed when he finally reaches out and cups Emily's cheek, freeing her into a carcass of an empire that he gutted for her, in her name, in the name of her mother?

when I first heard of the endings I thought that if you reach very high chaos, you are locked into this choice - Corvo or Emily tries to free the other and the stone just doesn't budge. they are trapped. the quest is over but the world knows that the bloodshed was extreme and this is the punishment they have to face

#li.txt #dh #dishonored #kinda like the high chaos brigmore witches ending #there is no reason for corvo to kill daud if you finish BW in high chaos. but he still does. because the world Knows #but the very Active choice of the player and by extension the character to take the throne and keep their last family locked in stone.... #its certainly a choice. and it makes me wonder about many a thing #i really wish we got more info #karnaisbear mentioned that itd be cool if we got comics expanding on alternate endings and like arkane. arkane can we please get those #I just really wanna know What It Was Like to live under the rule of Emily or Corvo in the very high chaos endings #and the fact that it seems like they can still free the other person? that adds so much more angst and tension to it #is there a time limit? do years pass and does corvo grow old and weary and thinks that yes #he has done his job and he has done it well. and the empire is righted and he can hand it back to emily now #and he cups her cheek and it remains cold marble #and all he did was for nothing #and he cries #(can u tell ive been reading thru the corvo the black tag) #not to mention something similar to that but with emily!! #imagine she grows old! older than corvo was when he was frozen! #the century is coming to a close when she finally frees him and she is older so much older and corvo will have to live with losing her #in every single impossible way he has lost her #and then he gets to bury his daughter #these tags got so dark wtf

[shotmrmiller]

I'm your only situationship.

A/N : yall i stayed up til 324 am writing this. I felt like if i went to bed still only having it as a thought and not on 'paper' thats unacceptable. If i gotta think about this then so do yall! it was also supposed to be a small one shot but it got wildly out of hand im not sorry.

18+ MDNI

TW: typical smut, EXPLICIT mmkay im talkin clutch ur pearls explicit.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Simon had finally come home from a grueling 6-month mission. All he wanted was some Kentucky bourbon with you at your favorite seedy bar. 

Once he was home, Simon cleaned up, put on a black clinical mask, and sent a text to you to meet him there. As he finished his first glass of the night, a rather attractive young woman approached him, asking if she could buy him a drink. 

“Isn’t it supposed to be the other way around, lovie?”

“Not at all. This is after all the 21st century. I’m simply asking— wouldn’t want any missus at home getting upset.”

“There’s no one at home for me, lass.”

“Well then, how about you get yourself another glass, my treat, and we’ll see where this night takes us?” 

He slightly nodded —he’d never say no to a free drink— and as she left to order a drink, he took his phone out to text you again.

“C’mon, pet. I’ll cover the tab. Too good f’me, now?”

His phone vibrated a minute later.

“I can’t today, Si.”

“Why not? I know you don’t go out on Sundays.”

As the young woman came back, drinks in hand, he lifted the screen to read your response.

“I’ve got a dick appointment~ It’s been a year and then some and I’m gonna claw at my walls if I don’t get a fix ASAP.”

Simon goes tense— soft blues hardening to a silver and he’s gripping his phone so hard it might crack. He pulls up your contact and calls you within seconds.

“Hiya, Si!” 

“What the fuck is a dick appointment?”

“Oh,” you giggle. “I forget you older folk don’t know ‘bout that. It’s just a one-night fling. No commitments or nothin'.’ Exactly what I need right now.” You don’t tell him that the reason you’ve practically regrown your hymen is that when you’re best friends with Simon, every other male in existence pales in comparison. 

“Anyway Si-, he’s getting here in like an hour-”

“No.” And hangs up. 

The young woman who’s casually rubbing his bicep and shoulder gets practically flung off of him, as he gets up off the bar stool so fast it’s falling back with a loud clang, and he’s yanking his leather jacket on and pulling on his leather gloves so hard they’re about to become fingerless—

“Hey! I thought you didn’t have a girlfriend?!”

One gloved hand gripping the front door, he turns his head slightly to her and says, “Pet, with how good I’m gonna fuck her, she won’t even have to ask to know she’s mine.”

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

You’re standing in the bathroom with your liquid eyeliner in one hand and phone in the other, staring at the ended call screen. ‘Weird,’ you think, then shrug and put the phone down. ‘Maybe the call got dropped.’

You finally complete the look with your false lashes when there’s a very hard knock on your door. You frown as you look at your phone screen. ‘7:14 pm’. You know the guy said at 8 and you’re in one of Simon’s big shirts he always forgets and your hair is still tied up in an oversized pink and white polka dot scrunchie— The pink leopard print booty shorts you’ve got on will suffice. 

The second time there’s a knock it’s even louder. 

“Jesus Christ, I’m coming!” 

You open the door and say, “I’m sorry I took so long, I—”

Simon flies past you, with a rough shoulder bump and you turn to look at him and he’s almost sprinting to the bedroom, slamming the door open—

“Simon, what the fuck? What’re you doin—”

“Where is he?”, he snarls.

“Who?! Are you talking about my date? He’s not getting here til 8! And why’re you slamming doors in my apartment like you pay my rent?!”

You see Simon deflate immediately at the important part of your answer and chooses to ignore the rest as he takes off his jacket and walks to your hall closet to hang it. Closing your door and locking it, you growl out,

“You need to leave. I haven’t even finished getting ready. I promise I’ll—”

“No, pet.”

“Will you quit interrupting me! Simon, I swear—”

“Pet.” 

You’re holding a scream behind your teeth, about to rip the hair out of your scalp when you see Simon take one loop of his mask off from around his ear and then the other. You gape. You’ve seen Simon without his mask— that isn’t the reason you can no longer find your voice. It’s the way he put his gloved middle finger in between his teeth and pulled it off so sensually. You can feel your cheeks and ears radiate heat from just seeing the tip of his pink tongue. Christ, you’re down horrendously.

You open your mouth to say something, anything, to distract yourself from the fact that you’re getting wet over an interaction so chaste when Simon is touching your ass, giving it a hard squeeze, before moving down to the back of your thighs and lifting you up. You startle at the movement and throw your arms around his neck out of habit, hoping he won’t drop you in the move to your bedroom.

He presses you against the wall with his hips, then grabs both of your ankles from behind his lower back and hooks the back of your knees over his forearms. Simon noses your jaw and starts grinding his clothed erection deliciously hard over the definitely wet spot on your shorts and growls out, 

“If you think,” grind “that I’m gonna allow My,” grind “Girl,”  grind—and you whimper in his ear,  “get fucked by some little cock two pump chump,” he gives a forced chuckle, “you must be daft, pet. Or maybe you’re doing it on purpose, eh? Trying to get my attention? Well, you’ve got it now. “ 

He moves his face to hover his lips over yours— you can lightly smell the bourbon he drank earlier— and he whispers, “You ever like this and I’m around, you come to me. And if I’m away, you wait for me like a good girl and when I come back I’ll give this,” he taps your pussy over your shorts, “greedy little cunt all the cock it can take.”

With a shaky breath, you nod before he kisses you, his bourbon-flavored tongue curling against yours, and you’re moaning into it because you’ve wanted this for too long and he’s finally touching you. Curling your fingers into his ash-brown hair, you move your mouth to his neck, to the right of his adam’s apple, took a bit of skin between your teeth and sucked. 

Simon hisses, dips his fingertips into your flesh hard enough to bruise, and all but yanks you off the wall to toss you onto your bed. 

You yelp as you bounce from the force of his throw— you’re still bouncing on the bed when Simon grabs the waistband of your shorts and knickers to pull right off, which you’re grateful for because the grey knickers you got on aren’t what anyone would wear for a first, second nor third impression.

Simon grabs both of the back of your knees with one hand,  goddamn bear paws, you think, before you feel his tongue in between your lips— so warm and wet and fuck, you needed this, needed him— and he flicks his tongue up and down on your clit. He sticks his long middle finger into you and it goes in without resistance, you’re slippery, drooling over his wrist and finger that’s curled up into the rough patch of nerves against your gummy walls, that he’s pressing into, over and over. God you’re about to come, your legs shake in his one-handed hold and you’ve got a white knuckle grip on the forearm you’re sinking your nails into—

Simon pulls away. You were so close, your eyes start watering because he can’t possibly be this mean to you but then you see him shove his tongue in between his middle and ring finger, eating up your nectar when he says, “The first time I’m gonna make you come, it’ll be on my cock. I want to see the frothy white cream you're gonna leave at the base.” 

You’re nodding hysterically at this point, anything for him to make you come, anything for him.  With a twirl of his index, he’s telling you to get on all fours. Scrambling, you turn over and arch your back— resting your head on your forearms— and you feel his calloused palms run down from your spine to your ass cheeks before he gives it a spank. 

“You have a condom?” 

You shake your head and you mewl out, “No, but I’m clean.”

“Good. I don’t want anything between us.”

You arch your back further, pressing your ass further into his hips when you hear his belt buckle clank and zipper open. Simon brings his palm to your other cheek, reddening it. 

“Fuckin’ hell, pet. Look at you spread out for me.” 

You feel warm velvet over steel over your slit before he slowly pushes inside, not all the way but about a little over half of his length, remembering that your g-spot is a little closer to the front. Fast, relatively shallow thrusts hitting your spot with almost clinical precision have you reeling, your orgasm about to break you, mind and body. Hands tightening painfully, you shatter— loud, high-pitched whines, ringing in your ears and pussy pulsing around Simon’s thick girth— and god, Simon doesn’t stop thrusting. He keeps the same smooth rhythm and you’d think he’s unaffected by the tight vice your pussy has him in— but you hear him, low, deep groans and a tighter grip on your hips telling you otherwise. 

He pulls out to bend over your back, completely covering it, and he murmurs in your ear, “I hope you didn’t think we were done. My girl wanted a fuckin’, now she’s gonna get it.” 

He takes off your pink, silly scrunchy and you see it around his tattooed wrist before he grabs your hair into a makeshift ponytail and is leaning back up and forcing your back to arch under his pull. You feel his leg at the height of your hips— propped up, foot flat on the bed and knee bent and the other straight on the floor and all you can think of is how this man is gonna kill you with his cock. 

Simon snaps his hips forward, fist full of hair pulling back,  stretching and filling in one strong thrust, bottoming out. He gives you no reprieve, no time to get used to how fucking deep he is, and sets an intense, firm pace that has you feeling a pinch below the navel every time his hip bones slap against your ass, balls to the clit and you love it. Every pinch in your lower belly has your pussy making a squelching sound and you can’t help yourself— you reach underneath your body to feel how split open you are with two fingers, encasing his cock and feeling the skin drag with them as he pulls out.

That has him hissing air between his teeth, he’s about to come but doesn't want it to be over so he pulls out, and opens your cheeks to spit in your furled hole, before pressing in with the pad of his thumb, and you’re almost screaming. He moves back a bit further to spit in your pussy, not that you need it— you’re drenching the sheets underneath you— and now he’s spearing you with his tongue before curling it, getting your juices pooled on it before coming back up, lips smacking, and he grabs your hair in his ponytail and now he uses his other hand to curls his fingers and palm over the front of your throat and that's all it takes for your vision to darken and arms go limp but he’s again, fucking you through your orgasm and this time you leave a creamy white ring at the base of his length. 

“Oh, fuckin hell.” He groans out and it sounds desperate and you know he’s close.

“Come in me, Simon. Please fill me up, I promise I’ll keep it all in.”

He gives a strained chuckle and says, “Pet, I can barely pull out of a driveway much less this tight little cunt.” He squeezes your throat hard, strands of hair popping out of your scalp and his cock feels massive, the pinch in your stomach feels like a cramp from how deep he is and he lets out a low drawn out moan that lasts 3 thrusts— and then there’s warmth filling you up, so much so it leaks from the sides of where you two are connected. Simon lets go of your hair and you fall face-first onto the bed, exhausted. Defeated. Back properly broken. You officially know what it’s like to get fucked within an inch of your life and you love it. 

He pulls out slowly, with a hiss from both of you and with one hand on your left cheek, he spreads you to look at your stuffed hole.

“Fuck. I love seeing me drip out of you.” 

You’re about to tell him to sod off when the doorbell rings and the both of you stiffen and lock eyes. With a mean snarl, Simon grabs a towel from your bathroom and his mask before stomping his way to answer the door, pink obnoxious scrunchy still on his wrist.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

#call of duty #cod #cod mw2 #cod smut #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon riley smut #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley smut #simon ghost x you #ghost cod #cod mwii #ghost mw2 #ghost simon riley #call of duty smut

[daycourtofficial]

Save your tears

Summary: Eris finds his pregnant mate sobbing because of something Lucien did

Author’s note: this is short and fun and silly and goofy, inspired by this fic by @artethyst

Lucien Vanserra considered himself to be a male who was kind and who picked up on the emotional state of those around him.

Which is why he has no idea how you began crying or what to do about it.

Ever since you had written to him a few months ago asking if he could stay in Autumn more frequently during your pregnancy, he had obliged, stopping by to see you at least once a week.

Tears were streaming down your face, and he couldn’t make out a single coherent word from you due to your blubbering. He came to sit next to you, but you put your hands on your belly, scooting further away from him.

Eris strode into the room, taking in the scene before him. You trying to stay as far away from his brother as possible, and his brother trying to get closer to you to console you.

“Lucien, what could you have possibly done to reduce my mate to a sobbing mess?”

Lucien throws his hands around, gesturing wildly, “What I did? Perhaps she’s woken from whatever spell she was under and realized who she was mated to.”

Eris gives his brother a look as he comes to you, grabbing your face gently so you look into his eyes. He takes deep slow breaths, wanting you to do the same. After a moment of deep breathing, your sobs have quieted and he asks, in an incredibly delicate tone, “What’s wrong, fawn?”

“Lucien killed a spider,” you sob out.

Lucien’s eyes widen, “that’s why you’re upset? You asked me to kill it! You were upset over it being here!”

“Yes, and now the spider’s dead and she probably had a whole spider family that is going to starve because you’re a spider murderer,” you reply, having to stop every few words to breathe. “And,” you stress, “her corpse is over there, discarded like she meant nothing.”

Eris kept his lips pressed tightly to keep from laughing at the sheer absurdity of his pregnant mate and his brother as they continued debating the morality of Lucien killing the spider. He watches his brother go to pick up the spider’s body, unlatching a window, and tossing it out before closing the window again, before turning to you, his face asking are you happy now?

You squeak at his callousness and disregard for it, asking, “is that what you shall do with me when I perish?”

Lucien rolls his eyes, “gods I don’t think I’ll be around to witness your death because all of the spiders across the land will kill me in vengeance for their fallen queen.”

Eris sits next to you, pulling you in towards his body, sending waves of love and joy through the bond to soothe you. You curl into him, grasping his shirt to cling onto.

“How could Lucien do such a thing…”

Lucien huffs before stalking off, muttering to himself about how he spends his free time in Autumn for you just to be disrespected for doing what you wanted him to.

You cry in his arms for a while, your sobs turning into hiccups. Eris places a hand on your bump, smoothing his thumb over it, applying a light heat so your babe knows who’s there.

“I think I scared Lucien away,” you finally say, voice shaky.

“Lucien is not so easily shaken. I’ve been trying for centuries to make him hate me, but my attempts are always unsuccessful.”

You smile, your sniffles the only sound for a few moments.

“If you really want Lucien to hate you, have him convicted for the murder of a spider.”

Eris’s eyes crinkle in amusement, “he would have a lot to say about that, I’m sure.”

“There aren’t many topics that he doesn’t have a lot to say on,” you smirk.

Eris stands up, his vest before extending a hand to you. You accept it, and he helps pull you up.

“I think it’d be funny if we told him we’re naming the babe Lulu,” you say, curling underneath Eris’s arm.

“I think he’d be more crushed to find out we aren’t.”

“That’s what’s funny about it.”

“Wicked, wicked female you are,” he croons, leading the two of you through the hall of the Forest House.

#eris vanserra x you #eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra x y/n #eris x y/n #eris x you #eris x reader #acotar fanfiction

[hxxsxxng]

JAY 박종성 - CRIMSON HONEY : I

MINORS DNI

Word Count : 4.1k

Genre : SMUT, AU

Content : dub con, kidnapping, somewhat implied stalking, mentions of blood, almost loss of consciousness, manipulation, vampire, choking, nipple play, teasing, fingering, oral f recieving, spanking, hair pulling, masturbation, unprotected sex, cream pie, begging, probably other things lmk what i missed

Synopsis : After a long night of partying, you end up not making it home. Forcefully taken from the alley way, your night changed for the worse…. or for the better

Authors Note : I would really appreciate some feed back on this, this is my first time writing any sort of alternate universe story. love yall <3

SUPPORT BY REBLOGGING if you want

She's walking through a darkened alleyway, when she suddenly hears footsteps approaching her from behind. She stops and turns around, only to discover that they aren't footsteps, but the sounds of heavy breathing. She looks around, terrified, and realizes that someone has fallen into step behind her.

She picks up her pace, but the footsteps behind her pick up speed as well. She starts to panic, not knowing what to do. She looks around again, desperately trying to spot an exit or a friendly face. She is close to reaching a streetlight when a hand grabs around her wrist and pulls her roughly into a shadow-filled corner.

She struggles weakly against the grip of the hand holding her wrist, but is unable to break free. As she gasps for breath, her eyes adjust to the dim light and she realizes that it is a man who is holding her. She looks at his face and realizes she has never seen him before. His eyes glow red, black hair falling over his eyes, and his fangs glinting menacingly in the starlight, an unmistakable mark of a vampire.

The vampire stares at her, cold and emotionless, his grip tightening around her wrist. Despite her struggles, she is unable to break free. She stares back at him unblinkingly, knowing the futility of trying to get away from him. He leans closer to her, his breath hot on her neck, his fingers tightening around her wrist until they almost draw blood. She shivers, her fear now palpable.

He pulls her roughly towards him, his eyes burning into hers. Despite the threat of pain, she is overwhelmed by the power of his presence. It seems inevitable that he would kidnap her or take her back to his home.

The vampire leads her back to his home, taking her down dark alleyways and narrow streets, avoiding the crowds and the light. She is terrified, but also strangely captivated by him. His grip on her wrist never loosens, his fingers digging into her skin.

He finally stops in front of an imposing looking mansion, looming over the street with its dark shutters and peeling paint. He opens the door and pulls her inside, shutting the door behind them.

Inside, the mansion is as eerie as its exterior. The walls are covered in dusty veils, the air stagnant and stale. The furniture is covered in a thick layer of dust, the floors in need of a good cleaning. Although the mansion looks like it has been deserted for centuries, the vampire appears as if he lives here.

The vampire leads her through the dusty hallways, passing by rooms filled with cobwebs and furniture covered in dust. They come to a stop in front of a heavy-looking door, its surface bearing faint scratch marks. He opens the door and pushes her inside.

Inside the room, an odd smell fills the air, a mixture of musk and decay. The furniture is made out of dark wood, the floor bare. There are no curtains on the windows, so the moonlight spills into the room, creating ominous shadows on the walls. The vampire closes the door behind them and leans against it, watching her.

The vampire stares at her, his eyes burning into her. She is afraid but also filled with excitement. She can feel her breathing quicken, her heart beating faster. He walks closer to her and leans down until his face is just inches from hers.

She flinches from the pain, but despite the pain she feels a strange sensation coursing through her. The vampire continues to stare at her, his eyes straight into hers, his grip on her wrist tightening even more.

"Do you know what I'm going to do to you?" the vampire asks. She glances down at his hand around her wrist, feeling the tightening squeeze. She stays silent, not wanting to answer. She doesn't know what he will do, but she is afraid that it will be something terrible.

The vampire gazes at her,"Oh, I think you know," he says.

The vampire's words send chills down her spine. She tries to swallow her fear, but the thought of what might happen is too terrifying to ignore. She keeps her silence, but her body betrays her with her increasing breathing and trembling. She feels the vampire glaring into her eyes as if he can see past her skin and into her mind.

The vampire tilts his head slightly, his eyes still holding hers. He's studying her, assessing her reactions. "Your fear amuses me," he says in a low, growl-like whisper. She continues to stay silent. Her breath is faster now, her heart beating against her chest. She feels his gaze boring into her, as if he is trying to find something inside of her.

The vampire walks around her, inspecting her, his eyes taking in her body. Her heartbeat quickens even faster, her breath catching in her throat. She is unable to move, unable to speak. She feels like a mouse in the presence of an apex predator, totally helpless.

The vampire's gaze moves over her body, up and down, scanning every inch of her. She feels defenseless and vulnerable. Her breath quickens further, her heart pounding in her chest. She closes her eyes, trying to remain perfectly still and not draw attention to herself. Her fear is growing, and she feels like she could burst into tears at any moment

The vampire comes to a stop, standing directly in front of her. He leans down, his eyes burning into hers once more.

"You're afraid."

His voice is low and gruff, like gravel being scraped together. She doesn't respond, just blinks as a response.

"I can see it in your eyes," he whispers. "Your fear."

His voice has a low, husky growl to it, like a lion about to pounce on its prey. He lingers in front of her, his eyes drilling into hers.

The vampire continues to stare at her. He seems unnaturally calm for someone who has just abducted a woman. He leans even closer, his breath hot on her neck. "Your heartbeat is quickening," he says, his voice low and hoarse. "You're starting to get excited, aren't you?"

"I can feel the heat of your body," he says, his voice a low whisper now. She can feel his breath on her skin. "You're trying to hide it, but I can feel it."

He can feel the tension in the room grow thicker. "My name is Jay, what is your name doll?"

She refuses to respond.

The vampire moves even closer, until his face is just inches from hers. He speaks again, his voice hoarse and low. "I know what you're feeling," he says. "Excited, afraid, aroused... you're trying to hide it, but I can see it all."

His gaze drops down to her lips. She tries to look away, but he catches her chin between his thumb and index finger.

Her pulse speeds up further and she begins to shake. "Please," she whispers. "Please don't. Let go of me..."

Her plea causes his eyes to darken with desire. His eyes burn with an intensity that scares her beyond reason. Suddenly, her entire body stiffens as a violent shudder runs through, shaking her. She tries to scream, but her mouth won't open. The sound of her voice seems muffled and distant, as if she is underwater.

She tries to fight, but she can't get herself to. She feels herself becoming weaker and smaller as Jay continues to tower over her, his eyes blazing with lust and hunger as he leans closer to her. Suddenly, he raises his other hand up, his claw tips grazing against her throat, causing her to gasp involuntarily. She sees his fingers curl around her neck, squeezing, slowly cutting off her air supply. She can taste iron fill her mouth. She gasps desperately for air. She struggles to breathe and her vision begins to swim with darkness. She tries to pull her face away, but his grip only tightens.

Suddenly, the vampire releases her, letting her fall to her knees, wheezing for air. The vampire steps back, arousal building in his pants at the site of the creature in front of him.

Her hands tremble as she attempts to stand, but she collapses onto the ground before she has had time to regain her balance. Still panting, she glares angrily at him, her breathing harsh and ragged.

"What do you want?" she snaps, wiping the sweat off her forehead.

The vampire smiles at her. His teeth gleam in the dim light, sharp and pointy.

"I want you..." he murmurs, his voice deep and dark. He approaches her, stopping right beside her as she continues to glare at him.

She feels his fingertips graze lightly across her shoulder and her breath catches in her throat. She wants to pull away from him, but the fear in her eyes makes her freeze and unable to escape. His fingers slide along her bare arm, caressing her skin, his breath fanning across her cheek.

"I want you," he breathes, his voice full of promise and longing. "All night long, I've wanted you..."

As soon as those words leave his lips, a wave of dizziness hits her, the world spinning around her. Her breathing starts getting heavier and her whole body aches. A dull throbbing starts in her neck, making its way towards her chest. It spreads throughout her body, leaving her dazed and weak. Maybe he was a bystander to her long night at the club, admiring from afar? She has never met this man.

The darkness creeps up on her, closing in on her from all sides, threatening to engulf her completely. Jay stands there staring at her, his eyes bright with pleasure as he watches her struggle for life. He looks so handsome, his black hair curling slightly at the edges, his features soft and delicate. She feels the warmth of his touch on her skin, his warm breath on her ear. The room is so very quiet, the only sounds she can hear are her own laboured breathing and the blood pumping in her ears.

Then everything goes black. He punctures her neck, blood gushing from her carotid artery. The sweet taste of her crimson red blood fills his mouth. Sweetest human he's ever tasted, like honey. He doesn't know if he can stop.

Her body falls limp at a almost loss of conciousness, his fangs still buried deep in her neck.  He pulls them out slowly, sucking her blood into his mouth, savouring the taste. He licks his lips, then looks up at her. There is no emotion on her face, not even surprise or confusion as he stares at her. There is nothing in her eyes. They are blank, void of all emotion.

A smile breaks out across his face. "Do you like it?" he asks her in a soft, silky tone

She remains still, not responding to his question, still feeling woozy from the sudden loss of blood. The vampire stares deeply into her eyes. Her pupils are dilated, and her heartbeats become erratic.

"Yes, do you like it?" he says again as the corner of his mouth lifts into a mocking grin. "Is it enough for you?"

"Y...yes..." she replies weakly, barely audible.

He grins in satisfaction at her reply. "That's good." His lips curve into a smirk as he watches the human struggle to stay awake and conscious.

"Are you going to kill me?" She finally asks in a hoarse whisper. Her voice wavers as she speaks, and her vision becomes darker.

"I'm going to fuck you" he snapped

He reaches down, pulling her to her feet and wrapping one arm firmly around her waist. Her head hangs limply, barely able to keep it upright, as he drags her toward his office.

She tries to resist, to break free, but her body is too weak, her mind too muddled, too clouded, to do so. The vampire's grip on her tightens, making her moan in pain. He stops when they reach his office. He pushes her down onto the couch, sitting down beside her.

"How did you find me?" she asks quietly, turning towards him and looking at him intently with her bleary, unfocused eyes.

"It doesn't matter how," he says, smirking. "What matters is that I am here now and we have unfinished business."

She frowns, her brow furrowing. "We?"

He nods his head in response, reaching out to run his hand softly along the side of her face.

"Me," he murmurs lowly. "You belong to me."

He leans forward, his mouth crashing against hers hungrily. He kisses her roughly, possessively, licking his way inside her mouth. His tongue dances deliciously with hers, dancing a seductive dance while it explores her. Jay takes his time, tasting every inch of her mouth. He tastes her blood mingling with his tongue, their kiss is fierce and passionate. He kisses her roughly, eagerly, his tongue exploring her mouth with such thorough and demanding intimacy.

Her arms wrap tightly around his shoulders. He slides his hands under her T shirt, running his fingers gently across her stomach, causing goosebumps to appear on her exposed flesh. Her mouth parts as his fingers brush lightly against her nipple. Slowly, he pulls her T shirt up over her head, revealing what he has been so desperately waiting to see.

Her breasts are small and pert. He can see the tip of her breast poking through her thin bra. With another deep thrust of his tongue into her mouth, he pulls away from her and cups her breast in his hands, rolling her nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Her hips buck upwards instinctively, eager for more attention from him.

"You smell so good," he mutters against her skin, placing several lingering kisses across her cheek and down her jawline until he reaches her ear, placing gentle nibbles along her neck.

He moves his mouth towards her ear, inhaling deeply at her intoxicating scent, the aroma of her blood filling his nostrils and making him lose control. "You taste delicious," he growls.

"Please." Her voice is a whimper, filled with desire and anticipation. Her body trembles as she moans, begging him to take her now, to fulfill her desires. Her voice is soft and pleading, almost desperate.

"Please," she says again.

He shakes his head, laughing silently in amusement. "No, darling. This is just the beginning."

He leans forward and places open mouthed kisses along her neck and collarbone, leaving trails of hot, burning kisses as his lips move down her torso and over her belly button. He lowers his head, burying his face against the sensitive skin between her breasts. A moan escapes her lips and she wraps her hands in his curls and squeezes.

His teeth sink deeper, grazing the surface of her skin, drawing an involuntary moan from her throat. His tongue swirls around the area, licking it gently, sending sparks racing up and down her spine.

He lets go of her nipple and wraps both his hands around her lower abdomen. He pulls her towards him, bringing them closer together, rubbing himself against her.

His mouth finds her nipple once more, suckling her tenderly as he circles his tongue against it. Another sound leaves her lips as she arches her back. He pulls at her hips with one hand, using the other to unbutton her jeans. His mouth moves lower, teasing, kissing, caressing every part of her exposed skin before settling on her pussy, swirling his tongue around the swollen clit, making her shudder in delight.

His hand slides down between their bodies, pressing his palm over her entrance, stroking and circling it. She gasps in surprise, arching against his hand in pleasure as his fingers rub at the nub of nerves inside her pussy.

Her hands move down to cover his, covering his hand which rests between their bodies, stroking him with her fingers. Their hips grind against each other, their bodies moving in rhythm with each other, their moans muffled by their heated kisses and ragged breathing.

He groans loudly, lifting his head from her chest, his green eyes blazing with hunger as he looks her straight in the eye.

"Touch yourself for me." He orders her, holding her gaze. "Imagine it's me who is fucking you."

She nods her head obediently, lowering her hands to stroke herself, squeezing her fingers inside of her vagina.

"Just for me." He orders. "Just imagine me inside your pussy. Make me come inside you. Let it all spill out. Show me that you want this. Do it"

Tears stream down her face as the thought of him filling her with his seed causes her legs to shake uncontrollably, her whole body trembling. She begins to cry in desperation, her nails digging into his skin as she grips onto him, riding her hand hard and fast, moaning violently.

Jay stands up from the couch, taking the shaking woman in his arms, carrying her into his large master bedroom, setting her on the bed. He kneels between her legs, his mouth finding her pussy once again. His tongue swipes across her clit, her muscles tensing as he sucks on her sensitive nub. He feels himself swelling, his cock twitching impatiently.

As he raises his head, his eyes are wild with lust, as he gazes at her writhing naked body beneath him. She shudders in ecstasy, as his tongue continues its assault upon her cunt. She opens her eyes, staring at him in disbelief. She doesn't understand what she's seeing. The man she knows to be evil, the handsome vampire that had tortured her, was now pleasuring her. It felt surreal.

"Look at me," he commands, grabbing hold of her chin with his hand, tilting her head slightly upward. She closes her eyes as her tears continue to flow, unable to look away from him, unable to stop crying.

He smiles widely and chuckles softly. "Do you like what you see?"

She bites her lip. "Stop it."

He ignores her request and runs a gentle finger down the length of her pubic hair. "Do you want me to lick my way up your pussy? Does it feel nice?"

She whimpers, her back arching involuntarily. She turns her head towards the ceiling, trying her best to avoid looking at him.

"Do you?" He repeats with a playful tone.

She whines.

He laughs again, brushing his knuckles up and down her inner thigh. "Does it feel good?" He repeats in a husky whisper.

She whimpers loudly, clenching her eyes shut.

"Good girl." He praises, running his hand slowly up her thigh once more.

"Please..." She begs.

He stops suddenly, withdrawing his hand from her thighs and standing up. He grabs her wrist and twists it around behind her back, holding it there painfully. She cries out in pain, biting her lip to stifle the sobbing that threatens to escape her throat.

He releases his grip on her wrists slowly, pulling her arms apart so that her hands rest limply against her sides, her elbows bent at awkward angles.

"Turn around," he commands, his voice hoarse and rough.

She obeys him reluctantly, turning around so that she is facing the wall. She sighs in relief when he finally releases her, allowing her to drop her arms to her side.

She wants him. More than anything else she could ever need. All she wanted was him to be inside of her. And he would be. She couldn't imagine having sex without him.

But she wasn't going to tell him that.

She hears the sound of clothes being removed quickly followed by the rustling of sheets.

She bites her bottom lip nervously, watching intently as she hears him walking around the bed.

Suddenly, there is a sharp slap and her body jerks in shock. Her ass stinging is pain. He props up behind her, lining his cock up with her wet enterance. She tenses at first, anticipating the intrusion of his body. But as he pushes himself inside of her, she gasps in surprise at the feeling of his long, thick shaft sliding in and out of her wetness. She can feel him stretching her insides, his balls pushing into her backside forcefully. His hands reach around, resting themselves firmly on her upper arms, keeping her in place as he slowly begins to fuck her. He pumps his hips faster and faster, causing her to gasp at the intensity of his movement.

She moans softly, closing her eyes in pleasure as she feels his hard penis pushing against her ass, penetrating her further. She opens her eyes again, looking back at his face as he fucks her, thrusting himself deep inside of her again and again.

"Oh God..." She murmurs. "It feels good" she cries in agony.

The sound of their flesh slapping against each other soon begins to fills the room and echoes loudly through the house. She cries out in ecstasy as he slams his hard erection against her ass harder and harder, driving himself deeper into her tight core while continuing to rock his hips furiously.

She moans louder. "Jay~~~"

"That's my girl. Scream my name, baby. I'm going to make you feel so good."  He growls. He reaches forward, grabbing her hips and lifting her up so that her ass is facing him. He holds her there for a second before slamming himself even further inside of her. She cries out loud as her walls tighten around him. He keeps thrusting into her, hitting her g spot over and over, driving her crazy.

Jay snakes his hand up her spine and grabs a fist full of her hair, ripping her head back closer to him.

"I want to hear your cute fucking moans, princess" he whispers in her ear. He lets go of her head and throws it back into the mattress forcefully.

She bucks upwards, tightening around him again, moaning loudly. She wants this. She needs this. Needs his touch and his heat wrapped around her body and his hardness buried deep inside of her.

He groans as he feels her pussy clenching around him.

She cries out as he begins pumping himself even harder against her, his cock throbbing heavily inside of her. They moan each others names as they begin to ride each other fast and furious, cumming together. Her entire body shakes wildly as she comes undone. She moans out loud, letting go of everything as her orgasm takes over her body once again, exploding inside her pussy. She trembles around him as her climax hits her hard and heavy, her walls tightening around his dick.

After a few minutes her shaking ceases. Jay lets her go and lays beside her, caressing her hair, placing small kisses on her forehead.

"You're beautiful like this. So soft and pliable."

He snuggles close to her side, hugging her tightly against him, kissing her bare chest whilst leaving bite marks here and there lightly. She presses her nose against his chest, inhaling deeply and wrapping her arm loosely around his torso as she buries her face into his warm neck.

They lay like that for quite some time, contentedly snuggling up close to one another, enjoying the closeness of their bodies, the warmth of their bodies intertwined together.

A few seconds later a sudden thought crosses her mind and causes her to stiffen in his grasp.

"How do you know what happens next?" She asks, her voice wavering as she feels tears well up in her eyes, her body shaking in fear. "What will happen when...when we have sex? I...I want that too. I really, really do...but...I don't know if you...if you'll like me or not afterward. What if...what if you don't?"

His body tenses underneath hers for a moment before relaxing once more. He pulls her closer towards him, rubbing his cheek against hers. "Don't worry about that now, little love. Just relax. You need to sleep now anyway. I am going to keep you here for a while"

#enhypen #heeseung smut #enhypen niki #enhypen sunoo #enhypen x reader #heeseung #jungwon #enhypen jungwon #kpop #stray kids #enhypen sunghoon #enhypen jay #engene #enha #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen jake #enhypen smut #jay enhypen #park jay smut #jay smut #jay #heeseung x reader #park sunghoon smut #park jongseong #park sunghoon #jake sim smut #jake sim #jake smut #reader x sunghoon #sunghoon x reader

[doki-doki-imagines]

Heyyy can you do headcannons of the earthrealmers, specially johnny cage 😭😍😭, when they really like the reader and get jealous when the reader is doing something with the other one of them. Sorry if this isnt clearrr i cant speak 🥲🥲🥲

I love everything you writte btw, are you kidding me???? Thank you so muchhhh

author note: feat. Johnny Cage, Tomas Vrbada, and Liu Kang because I think they'd be the funniest. Also, I intended the request as them being jealous of theirselves from other timelines. Also fem!reader in Liu Kang part.

Johnny Cage: -He basks in this situation. It doesn't matter the timeline, you are always close to him. -But then Johnny notices his other selves getting a bit too close to you. He could recognize those moves. -He can because they are the ones he makes to woo someone. -Finally, something clicks into Johnny's brain. You may always be attracted (also unconsciously) to him in every timeline, but he also remains a dog in every single one. -In a blink of an eye, the ninja mime Johnny and Janet are face to face with your pissed boyfriend, his hand gripping tight your shoulder. -"Have I introduced myself? I'm Johnny the boyfriend. The best one, not a rip-off." He extends his hand, but it is clear to everyone that Johnny's intention is everything but pacific. -Everything happens in the blink of an eye, the three Johnnys brawling on the ground. -You thought about stopping them, but thankfully, you thought some more. -Three Johnnys, fighting, all bruised, his ass sticking out more than once…what a sight. -You sit nearby, your Johnny sunglasses on, admiring the view in front of you. -"Is everything okay? Do you want me to stop them?" "No, Lord Liu Kang. If you really want to help you can bring me a beer. I'm enjoying the view as you can see." You say, smirking at him. He sighs. A small smile appears as quickly as it fades. -You are also the same in all timelines.

Tomas Vrbada: -Like it's nice that you get along with another version of him, but…they should have different personalities. -And you still get along…are you with him just for his looks?! -It's a funny thought coming from such a humble guy, but it's not bad that he is developing a bit of an ego. -Tomas won't move a finger unless you are in danger, but you brushed off all the advances from his others' self so he doesn't stress much. -"Say the truth. Are you in love with me only for my looks?" You chuckle. "I'd love you even if you became a worm, Tomas."

Liu Kang: -It's nice to see that he has amazing taste in different timelines, but his other self seems to be a bit pushy. -Liu Kang recognize him. He should be an actor in that timeline, not a monk, not the chosen one. -But Liu Kang also notices how this guy is definitely trying to touch you and how you jerk away, still trying to be nice; still recognizing a bit of him in that other version. -Liu Kang doesn't mind when you get attention. He knows you are hot but hates when you are uncomfortable. -"Hey, I think it's time to return to your timeline." "Oh, the knight has come to save you!" The smile of the other Liu Kang is fake, something you have never seen on yours. -"I've heard you are getting married soon, congratulations!" The fake cheer in his voice makes you cringe. While you walk away, your Liu Kang's hand slightly pushes on your back to hide your figure from his other self. "Yeah, we love each other very much." "Ahaha perfect. Can't wait for you to marry her, so I can fuck her like I fucked the Kitana of your timeline." Your Liu Kang turns around. -He and the Kitana of his timeline broke things off centuries ago, so she was free to do whatever she wanted. -But what that slime wants to do with you? -Blood. A lot of blood was spread.

#mk x reader #mk1 x reader #mortal kombat x reader #mk headcanons #mk1 headcanons #mortal kombat headcanons #johnny cage #johnny cage x reader #tomas vrbada #mk1 smoke #tomas x reader #smoke x reader #liu kang #liu kang x reader

[mournings-stars]

all i've ever known, again

the fifth and final part to IF IT’S TRUE / the orpheus and eurydice fic :))

so i kind of lied to yall... cus pt. 4 was the last part of the prelude and i had a final last part already started LOL so heres kind of (very much up to you whether it is or isn't) an alternate ending to this greek tragedy-inspired story also thanks to this request: “a happy ending or continue the story like what happened after the reader failed to bring Lucifer back ect.” from @smnthvxe that gave me the idea to change it from a direct continuation to an semi-alt happy ending… i think yall will like this alt ending more than a canon-aligned continuation :)

includes: all that other stuff but fluff this time i promise….

tags: @lxkeee @viannasthings @majonla @sapphirecaelis

part one | part two | part three | part four

When he fell, you didn’t come to the trial. You couldn’t. You didn’t tell anyone about his indiscretions. You let everyone think you were still happily as close as you were, wishing it’d been more — that you had, did, and said more. You stayed in the house you shared, went on with your days as you had been, and slept in the same bed because you had trouble sleeping when he wasn’t there. 

But you didn’t speak. 

He’d try, and he didn’t go back to Earth for some time, but each time you tried, your throat tightened and you had to stop before you said something that would make both of you feel worse. You couldn’t look at him without expecting him to confess more of what he did, more of how he showed her things that were so special to you. You didn’t want to know what else happened, if he kissed her, slept with her, it’d only make things worse. But he told you he never did. He told you he comforted her, and she comforted him, and that was all. 

He tried giving you replicas of flowers when you accepted what he told you, but they didn’t mean the same as they did before, and the moment you took them, they began to wilt. “I’m sorry,” you’d try to say as he looked at the flowers in defeat, but nothing came out. He brushed it off, pretending it didn’t sting and offered to show you what he’d been working on, but you didn’t want to be the one he showed his pride to when there was no one else to go to. 

“I’ll never see her again,” he promised, his last attempt to fix what he’d done.  

“It’s okay,” was the most you said to him in weeks, but he wished he didn’t hear it. He wished he wasn’t hearing you tell him to be happy without you again. 

But he knew now; all of his doubtful thoughts, after he ruined everything, were true. He’d made them so. 

Yet, you still protected him. 

Until the very end, you protected him for years until you couldn’t without falling with him. Years, and you didn’t tell anyone. Years, and you started staying in your old home, alone. Years, and when rumors spiraled, he helped her flee from The Garden. 

Years, and he understood what your relationship had truly been as he began to spend years with Lilith. 

Years, and when you didn’t show, everyone knew the truth. 

He didn’t even try to fight falling. 

Then, it was months. You didn’t see Lucifer on the promenade, or in your garden. You didn’t even see him coming back from Earth. You hadn’t spoken in years, but you saw each other everyday, and you noticed quickly when you didn’t. 

No one told you he fell. No one told you he stood trial. All of Heaven was keeping you in the dark until you went to Sera. 

“Free will? You banished him for free will?!” You yelled at her, and she let you, having expected this reaction. 

“He was also unfaithful,” she said simply.

“We weren’t married.” She shook her head. “We were hardly together — Sera, you can’t do this—“

“You spent centuries together. Nearly a millennium, do not dilute that kind of love to excuse his sin.” Eyes appeared all across her being. She was more angry for you than you had ever been, and she wanted you to lose faith in him. Just as she had. 

“We spent that time together, yes, we lived together. We slept in the same bed, had meals together, held each other… But most of the kisses we shared were on the cheek, or hand. It’s not what you think—“

“Don’t do this, Humility,” she scoffed, “I won’t listen to you lie for him—“

“It’s true! Sera, please, listen to me. Free will can be good! We can root out the evil in humanity and send it down to this Hell you spoke about. Humans will understand right from wrong — they won’t just resort to evil without knowing that’s what it is. Let him explain, I’m sure he had the best intentions—“

“Intent means nothing when this is what happens!” You quieted at her stern voice and full angelic form, heavenly voice echoing off the walls. “You cannot fix this—“

“You have to let me try.” And again, years later, she watched you in defeat in front of her. First, you cried to her over what you were losing on Earth, and now what you lost because of it. Except this time, you didn’t blame the humans. “Please,” you begged, making her resolve soften as she saw the shine in your eyes. “Let me try, so I can show him I’d do the same for him, as he’d do for me.”

“What are you talking about…?” Her angelic form settled as she frowned at you. “Surely, you don’t blame yourself—“

“No.” You shook your head. “When the Earth began to change, and everything felt so bleak, he was there to help me back into the light with the garden.”

“What garden? Eden?” You shook your head again and she was even more confused. “Perhaps you could show me?” She got up, walked over, and put a soothing hand on your back. 

You were consumed in a golden wave of magic, transporting you to the garden you came to everyday. You blinked your glassy eyes at her, gesturing to the garden and the animals that came to you and hoping that would be enough to convince her. 

“I’ve never seen this place before,” she said, frowning, but soaking in the beautiful environment. “It must’ve been created by an angel…” She trailed off, understanding what Lucifer had done. “Humility…” 

Your tears fell in shock, wide-eyed realization coming to your face as you looked around. It all felt so familiar, so close to home. You thought it was because it reminded you of Earth before it changed, but there was a reason it helped you feel connected again; every flower you ever said you missed, every animal you ever treasured or showed to him, even the pond that two ducks circled. He recreated it all. 

You shook your head, looking down at your hands as a cloud of golden dust created a beautiful lily in them. The very same flower you shut him out for. Looking at it now, it was one of the most beautiful flowers you’d ever created. Poisonous or not, it stood out as something you would have loved. 

Sera sighed, peering down at the lily you cradled as if it could take you back in time. She avoided your sad eyes as she looked over your face, pondering the idea that was lingering in her mind. Perhaps you would finally lose faith in him if she did it — perhaps, he would prove that he did care — perhaps… there were too many outcomes that could come from this. 

But she said it anyway. “I’ll give him a chance,” she told you, watching the way your wings lifted as you looked up at her. “If you fail, he will stay in Hell… forever, but I believe you can succeed.”

She told you her test, bringing you to the golden gates and creating the stairwell you would spend days walking down — days, where all hurt feelings washed away the moment you set eyes on him and he looked happy to see you. Days, where you realized he had a ring on his finger. 

You were too late, you thought. He would never come with you, you thought. 

But he did, and you pushed yourself to leave immediately, following every rule until you reached the golden gates of Heaven and stayed with your back to the stairs as you stood in front of them, thinking he hadn’t followed you. 

You took a deep breath before you turned, seeing Lucifer step onto the clouds and feeling your heart race when you realized you made it through Sera’s trial.

He was still, unsure of what he was at liberty to do now that you were back. The adrenaline of seeing you after so long, seeing you so ready to take him home, that allowed him to hold you like he did before, had gone the moment he stepped inside that stairwell and replaced itself with overwhelming doubt that the moment you were back, things would be how they were; doubt, that convinced him he'd already failed. Doubt that convinced him to prepare to see you cry for him again. Doubt that convinced him he'd have to say goodbye—

He didn’t even have time to process your arms going around him, but he recognized the warmth of your wings, secure and tight around him, feeling like home. 

And, God, did he miss it.

His head tucked into your shoulder as his arms hugged your waist, holding so tightly that you had to speak up. “Lucifer…” He held you tighter. You held him close, fingers threading into his hair to soothe him. “I’m not going anywhere—” And you felt his shoulders tense as you reassured him, harsh breath and wetness hitting the crook of your neck before he lifted his head. 

“Forgive me for this later,” he muttered, hand going to your cheek before he leaned in. He didn’t give you time to think before he kissed you, lips urging and eager as a bright, golden warmth washed over you. You could feel Lucifer’s hot tears on your skin as his lips persisted against yours, your hands going to his cheeks to run your thumbs beneath his eyes as you kissed him back. The moment your wings unwrapped from him, he muttered a weak, “no,” and reached his free hand behind you to gently guide your wings back around him as he pressed his lips to yours once again. 

For the brief moment you were apart, you caught a glimpse of a light above you. You pulled back. “Luci—“ His mouth was back on yours before you could finish, but he paused. 

“What did you call me?” He asked hopefully, but you didn’t repeat yourself. Instead, you told him to, “Look,” pointing just above his head. His halo had returned, glowing brighter than ever. 

The glow settled after a moment, Lucifer’s gold and blue, beautiful angelic appearance returning to him for a brief moment as Heaven’s golden gates opened. 

You stepped away from him and he knew the moment was past, fingers grazing his lips as Sera appeared in front of you. 

“Lucifer,” she spoke. “I see you made it back…” She looked between you, then paused when she saw his halo. “I suppose I should listen to you now.” She looked to you, nodding, and you gave Lucifer a gentle smile before flying off as they went in the opposite direction. 

“I didn’t think you would be able to do it,” Sera admitted after a long silence. Lucifer had been looking back at you, watching you leave in the direction of your garden. He looked at her when she spoke up. “I wouldn’t have.”

“If I was leading, I might’ve failed,” he said. “But I had something to prove.”

“And everything to lose, yes.” She nodded with a grimace, looking down at the ring on his finger. “I’m surprised you came.”

“What?” He frowned up at her, then followed her line of sight to the ring on his hand. “Oh…” Sera hummed as he lifted his hand, pulling the ring off. “It’s not what you think.” He handed her the ring and she inspected it, looking at the inscription on the inside of the band. 

Music notes were engraved in the golden ring, and Sera could hear the song in her mind. “I haven’t heard this song in a long time — the Song of Love, isn’t it?” She handed it back, watching him slip it back on his finger. “But before that, it was—“

“It’s Humility’s song,” he said. “I made it a long time ago — when the world stopped needing it to change the seasons,” he admitted, twirling it on his finger. As he did, melodic winds flowed past them and sang the very same song. He stopped, the winds settling. “And for these past years, I wore it so that I might be able to hear it again. Even down there.” Sera pursed her lips, not responding to the admission. “Sera,” he sighed, “I never did anything with Lilith—“ It was her turn to sigh, as she’d heard it before. It was the only thing he fought against in the trial. “—I know how it seems. I know my telling Humility was a confession to being unfaithful, but I never did anything with her, and in the years I had with her, we’ve been nothing but friends. There was a connection, I can admit that, but it was nothing in comparison—” 

Sera laughed, shaking her head. “You should’ve realized that sooner—“

“—and I never acted on it. That was when I told Humility, when I realized — After Lilith told me she loved me, and it meant something different than the love I have for Humility.” Sera quieted, letting him continue. “I can live with Humility never trusting me again — but, Sera, all I ask is that you believe I’m telling the truth.”

Sera was quiet for some time, stopping their walk as she stared at the ring on his finger; just like the lily, it was like it brought him back in time. 

“You should tell Humility,” she decided, her belief would rest on that. Whatever you decided. Lucifer was quick to turn the opposite way. “Lucifer,” she called and he turned. “It was my intention to protect you both, not to plant doubt.” He could hear your voice repeating her warning of abandonment, the hurt and vitriol having replayed in his mind for years. And it finally stopped now. 

“I know,” was all he said before he left, heading straight for your garden. 

He found you there, sitting in front of the pond with the two circling ducks. Lilies floated in the water and sprouted at the bank, vibrant, warning colors surrounding you as you watched the water. 

Lucifer couldn’t bring himself to speak, wishing he could immortalize the beautiful scene as twirled the ring on his finger. Winds blew gently, guiding you to turn your head toward him. You could hear the faint song, a smile coming to your face as he came and sat next to you. 

“There’s something I need to tell you,” he said. 

You shook your head. “Tell me tomorrow… Let’s just enjoy today.” You took a lily from the bank and carefully tucked it into his lapel. “It’s the first day of spring… Come to the Celebration tonight?” There hadn’t been one in years, and he knew it. You were asking him to spend the night with you, just as he’d done so many years ago. 

“I couldn’t miss it.” 

There was a long silence before he placed a zealous, maybe overly so, hand on your cheek. His thumb ran over your skin and he smiled faintly. “I missed you.” You placed your hand over his, turning to kiss the inside of his palm before taking his hand with both of yours. He pulled it gently to his mouth, kissing the back of your hand. “So much.”

And you could feel it. You could feel the truth in his words, and you could feel that there was a truth you didn’t know, one that wasn’t what you dreaded years ago, one that compelled you to twist the ring on his finger and make that symphonic breeze begin to blow as you went to remind him…

But he spoke before you could, taking the opportunity to finally remedy what he’d done as he held your hands to his chest. “I know.” 

And you couldn’t help but smile.

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel heaven #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fanfiction #lucifer fluff #lucifer x reader #lucifer angst #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin lucifer #lucifer magne #lucifer morningstar x you #lucifer morningstar imagine #fluff #hazbin hotel fluff #hazbin hotel angst #lucifer x reader angst #angst with a happy ending #hurt/comfort #lucifer x reader fluff #lucifer x you

[guaxinimraccoon]

Agora, a pergunta q nn quer calar: por que o Toby roubou o livro?

MEU DEUS eu achei que já tinha dito isso em algum lugar, mas dei uma procurada aqui e nada de achar o link disso pq eu NUNCA EXPLIQUEI DJKSKJDSKJDS MALZ bora lá

My bud here asked a very important question: why Tobias stole a very sacred and important book?

The short answer is: because Tobias has a curse and he wanted to find a cure.

OMG HOW- calm down, first things first.

As I said before, when Alex and Elisa started to take their relationship more seriously, Alex would hang out in the Colony using a shrinking potion and preteding to be an imp. He was well accepted as one by Elisa's fellow imps and fairies and they never had many problems with his disguise.

But there was this one, powerful, envy fairy who took notice that something about Alex was... off.

She started to do her own investigations and ended up finding the truth out: Alex was no imp, but a human in disguise. Although, to her, this was actually very good news.

Why? Because this fairy - Irwalia - comes from a family that has been preaching an ancient propecy over a century now. Said prophecy omens that, one day, a being with the strongest of souls - a fairy soul - and the strongest of bodies - a human body - would be born to free the Colony from it's decades of war.

There are a lot of fairy families that preach this prophecy till this day, but all of them are taken as delusionals by most of the Colony's inhabitants. It's impossible to have a being that has a different soul from it's body, it just can't happen. But they hold onto their beliefs firmly regardless.

When Irwalia learned the truth about Alex, she couldn't help but be ecstatic: she had finally found a human inside the Colony's walls. And, if SHE was the one who discovered him first, then she must be the one meant to give birth to this prophetic child… right?

In a vengeful and spiteful spirit, Irwalia decided to not report Alex to the Colony's authorities, but instead take her anger out on what the human and his imp wife treasured the most: their only child.

Alex and Elisa didn't took long to find Toby, afterall she wanted to take her revenge in front of them...

Irwalia cursed Toby with something that not only breaked Alex's heart, but made the child defenseless if he ever encountered a human: if in close proximity to a human, Toby is completely unable to do any kind of magic.

This may not sound like a big deal, but imps, especially imp borrowers, take great advantage from their magic abilities to protect themselves from the sight of humans and their malicious intents. And, of course, Toby would never be able to obtain his full magic potential (which he has a lot of) around his own father.

Aside from all that, his hair is now bright blue, a side effect of the curse that makes it difficult for him to hide from humans and dangerous animals.

Toby grew up not being allowed to leave the Colony EVER because of his curse. So when he became an adult, after getting involved in a lot of trouble inside the Colony, being the little thief and vagabond that he is, he thought-

Unfortunately, he never had the chance to actually seek a cure for his curse in the book because he was discovered for his theft before that, yeah, it was all kind of pointless, he truly sucks at hiding.

Huh, I also wonder why it worked...

#g/t #giant/tiny #ask #size difference #g/t community #elisa #alex #brad #toby #euphoria #euphoria lore #some euphoria lore since it's been a long time since i dropped some here #another long ass answer and rambling you're very welcome #and i bet this all sounds so out of nowhere but i swear this has been canon since i started this blog #my policy is: i'll tell them if they specifically ask about it lol

[viking-raider]

A Witcher's Soul

Summary: When tragedy strikes, Geralt of Rivia seeks comfort in the arms of one woman.

Pairing: Geralt of Rivia/Reader

Word Count: 2.7k

Warning: PG - Abandonment Issues, Child Abandonment, Fluff Parental Loss, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Memories, Bathing, Love Confession, Soft!Geralt, Character's Death

Inspiration: This scene from Season Three of the Witcher! 😭

Author’s Note: I hope you enjoy this! Line divider by @FIREFLY-GRAPHICS!

If you would like to get notifications for my writing! Just follow my Tag List blog, @VIKING-RAIDER-TAGLIST and turn on the notifications for it! It’s that easy!

Geralt rode Roach hard, only deviating from his path to guide the powerful black horse around a tree or rock. He gripped the worn brown reins tightly, feeling them cut into the top of his bare hands as he urged Roach to move faster, foam already starting to gather around his bit. The Witcher's mind raced, desperately trying to push down the power of the news he received from a good friend, while trying to help someone he'd found on the job. He struggled for a few days, trying to push it down, telling himself it didn't hurt.

She had left him almost a century ago, at this point.

Witchers had no emotions, he told himself, as a means to drive them back. It didn't work however, the emotions continued to smash into him.

So, he left in the dead of night, not a word to Anika, Otto, or even Jaskier, of where he was going or why. Though, he was sure Anika would know why. Geralt covered almost a whole league by the end of morning, cutting through the forest outside of Murivel, until he reached a modest clearing and an even more modest, three-room hut constructed in the middle of it, a stone and clay well on the left side, the bucket swaying softly in the breeze.

Roach came to a hard stop, hooves cutting deep grooves in the grassy earth, with Geralt wasting no time in dismounting the stallion and stomping across the yard to the front door. His sore and broken heart rose up with hope that it would swing open and the face of the one he was seeking would appear, to greet him. But, the door didn't open to him, instead he was greeted another way.

“Geralt!” A soft and confused voice called out.

He swung around on his boot heels, his golden eyes zeroing in on you as you stood just passed the tree-line, a basket of herbs and mushrooms balanced on your hip, as you regarded the Witcher. You hadn't seen Geralt in over a year, since he decided he needed to go to Cintra to make sure Ciri was safe from the sea of black and gold he'd seen on the Amell Pass. After the Dragon Hunt. You had heard the thunder of the new Roach's hooves coming up the path to your home, while you were gathering in the forest, and came to see who it was. You were surprised to see Geralt in general, but you were worried by how rushed he seemed.

“Geralt, what's amiss?” You asked, coming to close the gap between you. “Are you well?” You inquired, seeing the unusually deep crease between his brow and across his forehead, and how his complexion was paler, almost matching his hair.

Geralt took a deep breath through his nose, lips pressed together for a moment, working up the strength to speak. “I need you.” He finally rasped, his expression breaking into something soft and vulnerable.

“You rode all the way from wherever, just for time with me?” You smirked, tisking.

“Please.” Geralt replied, reaching out to grasp your free hand and squeezing it, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles, his expression breaking even more.

You frowned at him, all jest dying inside of you, seeing his wall fall before you and the pain he was being crushed underneath. “Let's go inside.” You whispered softly, tilting your head towards your door.

Nodding, Geralt reached out for your basket, but shaking your head and swatting it away gently, you pushed the front door open and put your hand on his arm, guiding him inside. You set your basket on a large table and turned towards the just as large fireplace, grabbing wood from the dog grate and tossed it in. Building it back up, sparks flying up the chimney. You moved to Geralt, who stood motionless beside the table, taking his hand and guided him over to the chair at the head of the table, gently coaxing him to sit down, then knelt before him. Grabbing the heel of his boot and his calf, you tugged the muddy, black leather off and set it underneath the table, followed by its twin. There was dust and mud covering his black clothing. You brushed your palm over his knee and thigh, casting some of it off, before standing up again and starting for the next room, only to have Geralt grasp your wrist and pull you into his lap. His arms wrapped around your shoulders as he buried his face into your chest, and breathed deep.

You frowned at him, sympathetically brushing your fingers through his hair and pulling it free of its usual tie, his white strands cascading over his shoulders. You nosed the top of his head, caressing the back of his hair and squeezing his bicep, still confused as to why he was there and what was ailing him so much.

“Geralt.” You whispered into his strands. “Tell me, what's happened?” You asked, your fingertips brushing the back of his neck. “Did you not make it to Ciri in time? Has something happened to her or Jaskier?” You inquired, licking your lips as your heart thundered against his forehead. “I noticed that isn't the Roach you had the last time you were here.” You pointed out, remembering the sweet Chestnut you used to feed and brush, when Geralt stayed with you, but now there was a sturdy black stallion standing in your dooryard.

He shook his head and cleared his throat. “No, they're both fine.” He rasped, turning his head to rest his temple against your collarbone. “As for the last Roach, she was killed by a Chernobog, a few months ago.” He added, softly.

“Oh, I'm so sorry.” You cooed, tucking his hair behind his ear. “Then, what's the matter with my Wolf?”

He was still and quiet again, for a long time, his fingers restlessly toying with the strings at the back of your bodice, before suddenly standing with you still in his arms, and turning to sit you on the chair in his place. He went out the door, rounding the house to the well and dropped the bucket to the bottom. You watched Geralt come back inside with each bucket, holding it in one hand, like it was the weight of one of his swords. Pausing in the open doorway and giving you a hard stare every time, as if he expected to find you moved off the chair or vanished completely. Only then, did he go to your large cauldron, dumping the full bucket in and returning back outside for another.

“Are you going to tell me, what's the matter, Geralt?” You asked, your concern only mounting with his bizarre behavior and irregular moodiness.

“Nothing.” He grunted harshly, setting the cauldron over the fire to boil.

“That's a lie.” You answered, just as sharply, being one of the few people on the Continent brave enough to talk back to the White Wolf in such a manner; other than Jaskier and Ciri. “You wouldn't have come from the bum fuck of Nilfgaard to see me, if something wasn't bothering you.” You insisted, glaring at his back.

Geralt ignored you, heading towards the back rooms of your home and leaving you more worried and annoyed at his behavior. He came back a few minutes later with no shirt on, and your suspicions on his task were answered. Despite what the people of the great Continent thought of Geralt of Rivia, he did not in fact like smelling of death, blood and horse. When he stopped for the winter at Kaer Morhen or with you, he bathed regularly. He just found it more a nuisance to do so while on the Trail, since the next Contract or sleeping rough would only dirty him up again.

Pulling the roiling cauldron off the fire, Geralt carried it to the large, soaking tub you boosted in your bathroom. He filled it almost to the brim, before adding in Lavender and Sage bath salts to the steaming water. A fragrant haze filled the room as he tugged his pants off and tossed them over a chair in the corner. He strode out of the bathroom, returning to you, still sitting where he'd left you. He took your hand and helped you stand, untying the strings of your bodice and tugging down your dress, so it pooled around your feet, before slipping his arm under your knees and an arm around your shoulders, scooping you up against his chest.

You sighed softly, wrapping your arms around his neck, while he carried you to the bathroom. “I missed you.” You whispered into his ear, as he stepped into the tub, lowering you both into it.

“And I, you.” Geralt replied, holding you in his lap and resting back. “Ciri and Jaskier are well, by the way.” He said, his fingertips stroking the skin of your side, beneath the water. “Ciri is being watched over by Yennefer, who's helping her try and control her magic and Jaskier was with Anika, last I left him.”

“Anika?” You frowned, tilting your head back against his shoulder. “Why is Julian with Anika? If he's well.”

Geralt's thick, scarred arms squeezed around you, almost painfully, making you squirm in his lap. “You remember my mother.” He mumbled, barely audible. “Visenna.” He said so quietly, you had to strain to hear it.

“Yes, I recall you telling me of her, a few years after we met.” You murmured, seeing the strained expression on his face. “And that you'd seen her at Sodden Hill. She healed you, after the ghoul bite.”

“I remember bits of my life with my Ma.” He rasped, his grasp on you loosening, but he still held you close to him. “She smelled like embers, from keeping our measly fires alive during the long nights.” He told you, the crease between his golden eyes slowly vanishing as he went back to that time, tapping into that abandoned little boy, he had never grown out of, but skillfully concealed from those he didn't cherish. “We were quite poor, even though she was skilled as a healer. So, she-” He paused, his voice thickening and his throat bobbing as he swallowed.

You looked up at him, seeing the redness in the whites of his eyes and the unshed tears threatening on his lashes. It frightened you to see the Witcher like this. In the fifteen years you'd known him, you'd seen him in many states, but you had never seen Geralt cry. Reaching up, you cupped his scruffy cheek in your hand and thumbed a droplet away, pressing your lips to his jawline.

“She would use her magic to create the most elaborate meals that we couldn't afford.” He continued, tilting his head into your hand. “There was—I would have done anything to make her smile. And yet,” He voice broke again, this time with more than just hurt and abandonment, but with resentment. “The day she left me, she was sick. She needed some water, so I went to get her some, and when I came back to the road...she was gone.” He croaked, pushing his jaw forward and shaking his head, trying to deny the burn of more tears.

His fingertips pressed into the skin of your side and back. “I called for her.” He said weakly, his golden eyes off in the distance. “But she was gone.” He whimpered, the tears finally winning out, dripping off his jaw and into your hair and the bath water.

You squeezed your eyes shut, pressing your forehead to his neck and hugging your arms around his torso. You had known Visenna had abandoned Geralt. He had told you that bluntly not long after you had met. The torture of her leaving him there, to be taken away to Kaer Morhen, where he'd suffered such agony in his transformation into a Witcher, at just five years old, coupled with the pain he never got over with his mother.

You wondered how Geralt had survived at all.

But no, Geralt was strong, even from a young age.

“She's dead.”

You pulled out of your thoughts, shocked. “She's dead?”

“She was giving aid to some villager and was mistaken as an Elf.” Geralt told you, bringing a hand out of the water to wipe it over his face. “They beat her severely and she later died, at the Temple of Mourning, where Anika was. Which is how I found out.”

“I'm so sorry, Geralt.” You cooed, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth, connecting the dots to his arrival. “I hope the two of you were able to make some sort of easement between you, when you last met.”

Geralt pressed his lips together and buried his face into your hair, his throat too tight to speak in the moment. He considered how he and Visenna last met, in the forest outside of Sodden Hill, as he laid feverish and hallucinating from a Ghoul bite to the leg. After saving a poor Merchant, who was trying to bury the dead from a camp Nilfgaard had attacked. At first, she had tried to conceal her identity from him, pretending to be Renfri, Yennefer and finally, you, before he managed to discover who it really was. Triggered by her belief that, People linked by Destiny, will always find each other.

He asked her what she thought of his eyes. Demanding to know, if she knew what they did to improve a Witcher's eyes. Telling her that it didn't always work. She had begged him to stop. Calling him by his name, only for Geralt to reject her right to do so, like she had rejected him. He had begged to know if she knew how many boys actually made it through the Trials. Tears filled both of their eyes as they stared at each other in the darkness.

In the end, his Ma had left him, again, fading into the night, trying to convince him she was just a dream and he would never get the answer he wanted.

So, had he made peace with his mother abandoning him, forcing him on the Path of the Witcher?

No. Geralt decided in the end, he had not.

The only thing Geralt did know was he wanted you. You were the first person he had thought of, upon finding out about his mother's death. Wanting to feel you against him and needing the comfort only you were able to provide. You shifted out of Geralt's lap, moving around him, while reaching over the side of the tub, grabbing the small cup that sat on the foot board there. Dipping it into the water and gently pouring it over Geralt's silvery-white strands, you set aside and took up a round, solid bar of honey and chamomile scented soap, using it to work his hair into a rich lather. Geralt moaned, feeling your fingers massage his scalp, resting forward to prop his elbows on his bent knees, eyes falling shut.

“I love you.” He murmured, quietly.

You stopped, resting your hands on his broad shoulders. “You've never said that before.” You said, looking around at him, mouth softly agape.

“No?” Geralt rasped, cocking a brow over his shoulder at you.

“Not once, in all these years.” You assured him, your hand gently massaging the scarred muscle of his neck.

He turned to you, causing the cooling water to slosh over the edge. “Then, I have a great deal of making up to do.” He cooed, reaching out to cup your face in his rough palm. “Because I do. I love you. Out of everyone, besides perhaps Jaskier and Vesemir, you know me better than anyone, and no one has ever taken better care of me than you have.” He told you, his face betraying the emotions a Witcher truly had, but guarded for their most treasured person, and not those of an abandoned child, rather those of a man in love.

“I love you too, Geralt.” You assured him, turning your head to kiss his hand. “And I will always care for you, me bleidd.” You whispered, picking up the cup to continue washing his hair.

#henry cavill #henrycavill #viking-raider fics #geralt of rivia #the witcher #geralt #witcher #A Witcher's Soul #A Witcher's Soul *fic* #hurt/comfort #Geralt of Rivia x You #Geralt of Rivia x Reader #Geralt of Rivia Fluff #Angst #Fluff #Visenna #Geralt's Ma #Character Death #major character death

[themusingsofacurlyhairednerd]

Datura Pt 8

Author’s Note: Ya girl finally got a new laptop and can get this fic back up and running! It’s a little short, but more updates to come! 😁 For a quick reminder of what happened here’s Pt 7 and the rest of the series can be found here.

Summary: Trapped Under the Mountain, you make a bargain with a certain High Lord to try and gain your freedom.

————————————————————————

“I want you to help me kill Amarantha.”

.

.

.

“Bargains don’t come for free, Darling,” Rhys rasps, voice so ragged it has you leaning in to try and get the ruined collar off him. There are open blisters, bleeding across his throat, skin an angry shade of red from how hard he’d been pulling on it. “And you don’t have anything left to bargain with.”

You huff a laugh as you inspect the rusted metal. 

He winces as it comes in contact with his skin, bleeding hands coming up to grab yours. “Don’t bother with it.” It looks like it takes all his effort to move off his knees into a more comfortable sitting position, battered body held up only because he’s now leaning against the wall. Amarantha and her guards had taken the light with her, it is hard to see just how injured he is in the dark, but that doesn’t stop you from leaning in, hands resting on his sides like you might be able to find them with your hands. His skin is flushed, dirt and sweat and what you can only assume is blood mingling into a fine film across his exposed body. He’s got to be freezing, wearing nothing but last night’s dress pants.

“I have everything I need to make a bargain,” you say carefully.

Rhys braces his head against the wall, shutting his eyes, breath rasping out of him. 

There are sure to be things listening and reporting to the evil queen this deep in the dungeons, you have to be careful with your choice of words; if Rhys wasn’t looking like he would pass out at any given moment you would have asked for him to slip into your mind, but you know, somehow, as if you can feel it, that it would be the last of his power. That close to the edge a simple slip into your head could kill him.

“She didn’t take everything,” you start.

“Not yet,” he warns.

You shake your head even though he can’t see it with his eyes closed; you’ll have to find another way to explain it.  A quick glance at the door confirms the two of you are still alone--though the shifting of things with claws outside the door is slightly concerning--and you focus your mental energy into dipping into the power well in your chest. This is not the place for a free fall, you focus your breathing, steadying yourself, willing the drop to come slower, less rushed. Darkness rises up to meet you and you reach out for it. For so long, it had been you against the thing that slept in your chest, but these last few weeks, learning to embrace it, to get to know it, perhaps it is not as intimidating as you had always made it out to be. Perhaps it was meant to help you; it deserved a chance, right? If you could give the High Lord of the Night Court a chance after all the stories you’d heard about him, you could give the thing in your chest one too.

“Just a little,” you whisper to it.

It threatens to overtake you like before, but you grab a mental hold of it, still focusing on breathing evenly, on learning to hold on instead of submit. It is yours to wield, not just to overtake you.

It manifests in your eyes, you feel them shift and change until you can see into the dark corners of the cell. There’s old hay scattered across the scarred stone floor, covering centuries of stains and filth.

Rhys cracks an eye open like it takes all his strength, but just can’t help but look. When he sees the shift, he pushes himself up off the wall to grab your face. “But you took the vial?” 

“And I gave what I had taken from her first,” you whisper as his thumbs stroke over your cheeks. Your fangs threaten to poke out, jaw aching under the strain of holding it all at bay. It’s a skill you haven’t yet mastered, you’ll need him for that too you suppose.

“You can siphon?”

Was that what it was called? “I think. It was an accident, I couldn’t really control it. One minute she was on top of me-”

Rhys stills, the kind of stillness you’d often seen on fae males before they became very, very aggressive, whole body tense like a predator ready to pounce. 

“She’d summoned some fire and got a hand around my throat and it was so hot..” There hadn’t been time to stop and think about it before, but recalling it now makes you shutter as the reality of what could have happened if your powers had not intervened settles in. “I thought it would kill me, and I don’t know what happened. I blinked and suddenly I had her fire in my hands and I’d thrown her into a wall.”

It’s only as you finish the sentence does Rhys release a shaky breath, hands once again stroking against your cheeks, as if he’s assuring himself that you’re ok. You find yourself leaning into his touch; it’s grounding, makes you feel more centered than you have in days.

“I thought it would disappear when I smothered the flames, but I still felt it until I took that vial.”

One of his hands slides lower, stroking over your throat to check for damage. The way he insists the wounds at his own throat are nothing while simultaneously checking on yours is not lost on you. 

“Blisters healed right up as soon as I held the flame, like they couldn’t hurt me anymore.”

“If you took enough of them it wouldn’t,” he confirms.

A useful skill you think you might need later, but figuring out how to do it again, how to wield it to your advantage is a problem for later. First, you need to get back to the matter at hand while you still have the time to do so. 

“So, with what I do have, I want to bargain. I’ll give you half of my powers-”

“No.”

“You didn’t even let me finish!”

“I won’t take them from you.”

“Are they so terrible that you’d refuse to be responsible for them? Or is it me that’s the problem?” The words are out before you can bite them back, because despite all he’s done for you, that last conversation in his room still rings in your head. 

He growls, actually growls, the sound low in his ruined throat as he grips your face a little more firmly. “No, because I would be just like her if I took them from you,” he snarls.

The anger that had been bubbling up in your throat sours in the pit of your stomach as you put yourself in his place. Amarantha has chained and abused him for fifty years, shackled to her by the very powers that were supposed to protect him from her and even though you knew he wouldn’t use yours on you like that, the wounds she’d made would be too deep. Would only remind him every day of her and how sick it had made him feel.

“Then what do you want, Rhys?”

His hands shake as he grips your face a little tighter. With your eyes shifted like this, you can see the way his own rove over you, the way he bites his lower lip in thought. It is the same longing you had seen in the cave on Calanmai, when he’d kissed you all those weeks ago.

“I want…” You can practically hear the thundering of his heartbeat. Was he… nervous?

“I don’t care what it is,” you say softly, and you mean it. 

“Come back to the Night Court with me,” he says. “When this is over, when we’re free, come home with me.”

Back to the Court that had inspired Amarantha’s Mountain palace and the lovely court within. The stories of the Night Court had not been pretty, but could they really be worse than this place, if Rhys was their High Lord? Certainly the male sitting here on the floor with you couldn’t run such a horrific place as the stories said. Besides, when it was all said and done, could you bear to go back to the farmhouse and face your uncle? After all his lies could you bear to live with him? Could he bear to live with you either?

“You’ll help me train my powers then?”

“As best I can.”

“I want to see her head roll off her shoulders,” you saw lowly.

“I’d give it to you on a platter if I could, Darling.”

You huff a laugh, “Deal.”

A tingling sensation shoots its way through your body, clustering square in the center of your chest. The sensation swirls across your skin as it settles, angling its way over your heart. You peel what’s left of your dress back to assess your stinging skin, and half hidden by the dried blood crusted to your own skin are now whorls of what look like ink across chest and ribs. Above your heart sits a swirl of ink, of vines surrounding the blooming petals of a flower you know you’ve seen before, a cluster of three stars in its center.

“Bargains are made in ink in the Night Court,” Rhys says a little too smugly for your liking.

“Always on the chest, Rhysand?” 

He shrugs. “I thought you’d appreciate the discretion.”

“I don’t think that’s the word I was looking for.”

“I liked the irony.”

“Of what exactly?”

He traces a finger over the edges of the flower and you can’t help but shiver. “It’s datura, a night flower, it grows best in the dark.”

A flower that would grow in his court; a flower that would bloom against all odds, in secret, while the rest of the world slept. A secret, lovely thing. You did, unfortunately, like the irony. You were not going to tell him that. “This isn’t the only flower you’ve been leaving me.”

He went still again. “No. No it’s not.”

“Why?”

“Thought maybe, I could get you out.”

“Careful, you sound like you care about me, Rhysand.”

He swallows, throat bobbing with the effort. “Would it be so bad?”

Your own words. Not quite the apology you should have gotten, but you supposed, here in this place, some cruel words were the last of your worries. With the bargain in place, you were not enemies. You could put it behind you. 

“No, I don’t think it would be.” 

“I’m sorry,” he says. “For all of it.”

You pull away to sit down against the wall, exhausted. “Tell me again when we’re free.”

He grunts as he sits down next to you. When he leans his head down against your shoulder, you don’t stop him. In fact, it’s you that slowly, dragging your hand inch by inch in the dark, takes his hand. This is a deal you can live with, a deal that doesn’t make you feel like you’ve sold your soul, but there is still an uneasiness here. You hope you both survive long enough to see it through.

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As always, if you wanted to be added to the list leave a comment below or shoot me a message :) Thank you everybody who commented and stuck around for the lengthy process of getting this next chapter up and running, ya’ll are awesome ❤️

#rhysand x reader #Rhys x reader #rhysand x y/n #ACOTAR rhys #ACOTAR x reader fic #ACOTAR fic #UTM!rhys #ACOTAR fanfic #my writing #my fanfic #Rhys smut (eventually) #Rhys angst

[antvmnos]

karasu

bi-han x female character x kuai liang 

summary: In another era, a powerful elder god with bravery to command and win battles, but  devised a cruel plan by Shinnok motivated by his cruel intentions, she was betrayed and killed for not accepting his deal. Now, returned by the dead and with a new perspective to start following Lord Liu Kang, she was trying to begin again and forget the painful past but her heart had other plans. 

1K WORDS. elder goddess, female gender, afab — mild language, violence, slow burn, mentions of death/blood, injuries. 

You are surrounded by this decrepit place. Limbo seemed less worse in the legends you used to hear, until the day you were confined to remain there and could see it with your own eyes. Time does not seem to pass as it should, always returning to a repetitive starting point from his ancestry to his cruel death. You are forced to watch these events beyond your control over and over again, until you remember every detail, every line, every action, finally coming to terms, long ago, that it's not Raiden's fault — he was protecting the plans, just like You would do it too, you would give up your own life if it meant peace on the earthrealm.

Just as he also abdicated yours… right?

He wouldn't make it in time.

If he had been there, could things have been different?

He couldn't. Cause you deserve to die.

It is these questions that force her to resent her unfair punishment, fueled by this feeling of hatred. Indeed, there are fates worse than death. And you are aware of this by being here.

"I can help you free yourself from this place." A distant voice speaks to you. You are scared at first, but somehow it brings you comfort.

"I know what I did."

"It was never your fault. Shinnok's vile intentions doomed you, I saw."

"Yes it was. If I had fought him, I could have avoided all of this, I was foolish and ignorant to believe that Shinnok could simply… change."

He doesn't respond or agree with what you said. The male figure materializes in front of you, and in all your existence as a goddess you have never seen him before. But he couldn't be just any deity, he wouldn't be able to get to this place if he were.

If you could blush, you certainly would have.

"If you follow me I can't rid you of your memories, but I can give you a new purpose to move forward."

At first, you looked at him with palpable disbelief, deeply intrigued. You were afraid. Fear of everything happening again, of being used, of returning to this damned place. However, something remained there. He didn't seem to be bluffing or lying.

He didn't look like Shinnok who in every measly word spat out a variety of lies to usurp power.

Something inside you tells you to believe him.

You look around you, there is no life beyond this. You were alone. Each deity, when he died, acquired the punishment he deserved inherent to his actions.

"If I accept your proposal, will I have the peace I seek?"

"Maybe… much more than that. You must walk the path for the answers you want."

He extends his hand towards her, offering a tender look that moves her, for the first time, in centuries or decades, perhaps? You don't know how to discern how much time has passed since your death. Hesitantly, you touched his hand and that place you had been confined in for so long dissolved into a distant mist.

A misty memory of a dream.

You shield your eyes from the brightness as you are greeted by the gentle wind of a morning, somewhere whose location is unknown. The world you once walked in prostrates itself before you again, this time a little different from that period but somehow familiar and welcoming. The birds chirp in a happy and infectious song while the soft sunlight touches their face warmly. You closed your eyes to taste the liberating taste of the usurped life, and for a brief moment you feel immeasurable relief at the sight of the vast rice fields and the village.

This world has changed during his absence, but at the same time, he feels that there is still a certain grace in it. Mortals have always captivated their attention in the little things, their appreciation for that land and its skills both in combat and its uniqueness.

 Your walk continues for a while longer, he takes you to an establishment. At the time of his entry, it was empty with just a few workers organizing the place. You don't understand at first his motivations for being here, but a middle-aged lady, upon noticing you, heads towards you.

"Liu Kang!" She greets excitedly. "I haven't seen him in a long time!"

He respectfully bows to her. You imitate the gesture, not wanting to appear rude.

"It's always a pleasure to see you again, Mistress Bo."

"So what brings you here?"

"Sorry to ask for one more favor out of the many I've already asked, but my guest needs to spend some time with you, if it's not inconvenient."

Her gaze flicks to you momentarily, looking you up and down, you flinch. Your clothes were not in the best condition, the kimono that once carried grace and subtlety was full of tears and blood marks, you immediately remember that infamous moment when your life was taken — the deep cut that marks your stomach. Instinctively, you bring your hand to the scar that extends from your lower back.

She was cauterized.

"Oh no, you know it doesn't bother her, on the contrary I will be very happy to help her. Gods, what happened to her? Poor thing, she looks horrible, covered in dirt and that is... Blood?"

"She… went through some difficult situations. I also hope to share your description."

You watch him without understanding why reality is blatantly omitted, he just shrugs and offers you a look as a silent request not to utter a single word.

Your thoughts are interrupted when your stomach makes a noise, as if a dark beast is living inside it.

The lady laughs.

You blush embarrassed.

"Don't worry Liu Kang, she is in good hands. Come young lady, let's prepare a nice bath and something for you to eat."

Without many options, you follow the woman into her affectionate grip. Turning to say goodbye, the god offers you a soft smile before disappearing.

#liu kang #mk1 2023 #mk1 #kuai liang #bi han #sub zero #scorpion mk #sub zero mk #sub zero x reader #scorpion x reader #mortal kombat #mortal kombat 1 #bi han x reader #kuai liang x reader

[alessiamalfoyzabini]

Vampire's Kiss | Chapter Two

Pairing | Vampire!Jungkook x Reader

Word Count | 4,4k

Warnings | +18, MC feels a lot of anxiety but Jimin is there for her, she feels inferior under the gaze of the Park family, Mr. Park and Mrs. Park are horrible people, Jungkook enters the scene 👀👀👀👀, attraction (for now only this)

⤷ Summary | Humans have finally unveiled and accepted the centuries-old existence of vampires, in a modern world people share their lives with these peculiar and mysterious creatures, but it is not all roses.

Will two souls belonging to such different species be able to be together?

➢ Author's Note | The second chapter of Vampire's Kiss is here, and Jungkook finally arrives! 👀 Let me know what you think of the story, it is very important to me 🥰❤️

Taglist: @katherine-kookie, @peterstarkchrishiddleston

Taglist is open!

Chapter List - Previous - Next

You are nervous, strolling through your living room back and forth, waiting for the boy who would accompany you to the party, you have worn a simple little black dress for the occasion and heels of the same color, you are the picture of understated and elegant simplicity, your hair instead is tied up in a soft bun that leaves your neck free, except for the thin silver necklace you are wearing.

Yet you do not feel beautiful, whatever you wore would not have served with the Parks, they would always see you the same way, as trash unworthy to stand beside their only son.

In some ways it's for the best, Jimin will get what he wants right away and you'll get out of the way, but it still hurts to be judged that way by people who don't even know you.

You hear the doorbell ring and check yourself one last time in the mirror in the main hallway, your lipstick and mascara are also in place, you take one last breath and go to the door, finding Jimin in all his glory in front of you.

He is wearing a white shirt that is slightly open across the chest, with smartly cut close-fitting pants and a jacket of the same material, his hair is pulled back, leaving his perfectly distended forehead exposed. He is a vision.

He is also wearing a necklace, the pendant of which depicts a silver dagger.

"Wow ... you look simply stunning," he says with a huge smile that brings his eyes to smile in turn.

"Thank you, you always are," you chuckle in response, he shakes his head.

"I'm used to girls giving me compliments, but when the compliments come from you they taste better" a subtle reference to whether you were such a bitch that you rarely gave him any?

Possibly.

He extends his arm to you, which you gladly take and together you leave your apartment.

"I'm sure the best are your girlfriend's," you say casually, curious to see how he would react. You are not surprised by the devoted look that outlines his features. That's just the way Jimin is, he gives the impression of being a hardened playboy, but he gives his heart and soul to his better half.

"Yes, the best ones are Nari's."

From there on, the walk to his car, an Audi TT Coupe, is fairly quiet on both of your parts, only the sound of your heels tapping on the asphalt bridges a bit the little space that divides both of you, you clasp your stole over your shoulders, not because you feel cold, it's a way to protect yourself from whatever would happen. It is strange to stand arm in arm with Jimin, dressed up and ready to threaten his parents with marriage if they did not heed his wish. It is strange to stand arm in arm with Jimin knowing that he has a real girlfriend awaiting his triumphant return.

Nari. She sounds familiar, you've heard her name before.

You can't think beyond that, Jimin unlocks the doors and the scent of new and clean welcomes you inside the Audi, Jimin adores the car just like a daughter, and you wouldn't be surprised to learn that only a few people have had the opportunity to climb aboard.

The boy makes the turn and finally gets behind the wheel, the sound of the engine being started catches you slightly off guard, Jimin gives you a mischievous look.

"Excited?"

You stare at him with wide eyes, "You shouldn't say such things now that you have a girlfriend, you know?" Jimin's smirk disappears immediately, and there you feel guilty.

"Wow...my human girlfriend bites like a wolf," he whispers, a boulder settles on your chest when he says so, "Hey...it'll be okay, I told you it's just for tonight, yeah?"

You nod, but you still have something to ask him.

"Does she know? That I'm going to pose as your girlfriend, I mean."

The last thing you want is to antagonize his real girlfriend, too.

"Of course she knows, she said anything goes as long as it works," he sighs looking at the traffic in front of him, "You're our last hope for a happy ending, if this doesn't work either.... it will mean that I will give up my name and my rights as an heir, I have a job and my boss is also my best friend, no matter what, I won't be in trouble" he mutters darkly.

Of course, Jimin does this for his parents, even if outdated, he loves them and wants to have a chance to stay by their side, how can you blame him.

You also love your father and mother, even though your father does not see eye to eye with vampires and is influenced by your sister. In spite of everything, they remain your only family and you owe them a lot; they adopted you even though they knew nothing about your previous life; they are good people who care about them and your welfare. For many years humans have been prey to vampires; so it is natural that a man of your father's age should feel some fear and hatred for them, you only hope that he will soon adapt to the new age, he cannot remain locked in his memories forever.

You gently squeeze his arm, as if to comfort Jimin in a way, "I hope for you that this 'plan' succeeds as best as possible."

He gives you a look, before giving you a little wink.

"You are not a human, but an angel."

You giggle, losing your gaze outside, among the speeding cars, the pedestrians waiting on the sidewalk for their bus, as the city lights brighten the entire environment. Your reflection in the window returns your glance, you're tense, you've never teased anyone and you're also a bad actress, you even told Jimin, but he insisted that you just have to stick to what he would say, that's all.

Jimin turns right and before you is the intriguing and luxurious appearance of the hotel hosting Seokjin and all his guests.

"The party will have already started, we'd better hurry."

The guy gets out of the car and runs to open the door for you without you asking him, you are pleasantly impressed and let him take you inside without a fuss, even though you are actually dying to imagine who knows what scenario. Will you be the only human? Or will you find some of your own kind? Will Jimin's parents freak out in front of everyone?

Shaking your head, you need to calm down.

"Don't be like that, I can smell your agitation," Jimin whispers as he leads you into the lobby, shows his invitation to a waiter who smiles politely at you, making his way to the area dedicated to the restaurant, it's crazy, everything is decked out in warm colors and silk ribbons, it looks more like a wedding than an engagement.

You peer through the crowd of people talking, everyone is seated at a table of four, further along is a longer table, and seated in the center next to a woman is Seokjin himself, his profile is ravishing, as is the skin that seems to be made of porcelain, he brings a goblet of wine to his lips as he nods at the words an elderly man is murmuring to him. The woman next to him is ethereally beautiful, you can tell right away that she is a vampire, both of them seem meant to be together.

"This way, baby" Jimin's serious expression alarms you, you look across and see them, father and mother Park.

They are both sitting at a practically empty table, their faces stiff and stern, but also remarkably beautiful. Park Sr. is practically a slightly older Jimin, while looking at his mother you realize where her son inherited those magnificent rosy lips from.

"Mother..." Jimin bows slightly, giving a faint kiss on the hand that his mother promptly extends to him, his father on the other hand nods in greeting, but neither parent shows that they have noticed your presence. You are about to vomit.

"Father, this is Han Y/N," Jimin says, gallantly shifting a chair to seat you in front of the woman who stares at you casting baleful glances.

"I know who the young lady is, Jimin ... you already introduced us to her several years ago," the father replies, at least he doesn't display the blatant disgust his wife is addressing to you instead; he's good at hiding it, "But I don't understand what she's doing here."

You tighten your lips, trying to moisten them somehow, and take advantage of a waiter's arrival to ask for water; you don't feel like drinking alcohol that night.

You glance sidelong at Jimin, but he smiles with absurd naturalness.

"I wanted to take the opportunity to give her a chance to have a word with Jin."

"How so?"

People start clapping and you see Seokjin get up from his seat laughing at something the woman said to him, you are sweating.

"Work stuff," the young man says vaguely, you venture to stare at Mrs. Park, she has not looked away from you, she is aware that there is more to it, a mother's instinct is rarely wrong.

"Just this?" the father then inquires, you huddle in your shoulders.

Jin began his speech.

"I thank you all for being here today, as you may know I have developed with the help of my trusted friends a dating site..."

The older man narrowed his eyes, "Well, Jimin?"

"It's getting harder and harder to find love nowadays, Vampire's Kiss was born for just that, to help lonely hearts find their missing piece..."

"You are right, there is more."

"And with happiness I am pleased to announce that unexpectedly I have also found my missing piece."

Jin takes the hand of the woman sitting by his side, and leaves a sweet kiss on her wrist, the hall erupts in loud applause filled with joy, "She is my fiancée," he thus drops the bombshell.

Amidst the congratulations of the guests, Mr. Park stares at you with huge eyes, while his wife cannot resist any longer.

"What?!" she exclaims horrified, "Are you out of your mind! You already have a perfect woman to marry! You can't do this to us, idiot son!" she growls breathlessly, her husband trying to calm her down with short pats on the hands.

"Darling, calm down...I'm sure we heard wrong, there was applause, Jimin definitely said something else" he sends a warning to his son with one expression, but Jimin is not intimidated.

"I'm afraid not, father... you two understood my words very well, she is my fiancée," he says with a confidence that you definitely do not have at that moment.

Father's face turns granite, he immediately shifts to you and you almost squeak, "Is that true? Speak up, damn!" he blurts out imperiously, your guts twisting, but before you can even respond, Jimin jerks up.

"I would appreciate a calmer attitude from you, you are scaring her and I don't like that," he hisses in their direction.

"We, on the other hand, would like to talk to you privately" Mrs. Park takes her husband with her, prompting Jimin to follow them, but before going the boy lightly hugs your shoulders as if to give you some sort of security.

"Go ahead, I'll be fine," you say with a smile, then see him disappear behind a door.

You're left alone watching couples and families talk about this and that, some have gotten up to greet Seokjin personally and you feel like a fish out of water, you can't even go and talk to him about the deal, it's not the right situation for such a topic, he seems so happy... and you're so nauseated by what just happened. You are grateful to Jimin for not letting you talk, because you surely would have been a stammering mess.

You sigh as you get up, maybe a breath of air is what you need to recover a little from all the fuss that has surely been raised, even as a fake girlfriend you suck.

You go to the balcony, it's nice and big and the hotel treats itself well, it overlooks a vast flower garden with a fountain that surely in the morning the birds use to freshen up, the moon high in the sky illuminates the whole area, casting mysterious shadows around, it all seems so...

"... beautiful."

You look around with wide eyes, was it you who said that?

No, it couldn't have been you, the voice sounded nothing like yours, it had a timbre ... masculine and hypnotic.

Looking suspiciously at every corner of the balcony, only to catch a glimpse of a tall figure in the shadows, you inhale deeply.

"Excuse me?" you ask, incredulous. How long has it been there? And why didn't you notice anything?

"I'm sorry..." a man comes out of the shadows, "You didn't get scared, did you? I didn't mean to scare you."

The first thing you think of as you look at him is that he could not have been human like you. His appearance is as bewitching as it is extraordinary.

His pupils have been engulfed by the darkness of the night, they are so deep that you feel a strange attraction draw you into those eyes, you cannot look away from his. But aside from the hypnotic coloring, the shape of his eyes gives him the sweetest look, despite the piercings that decorate the entire arch of his ears, his right eyebrow and even one side of his lower lip, fleshy and scarlet... inviting.

The well-defined jaw line and powerful physique make you think he is the kind of person who works out regularly to stay strong and healthy, he is really beautiful.

Such a man has to be a vampire, a forbidden dream.

You shake your head suddenly, remembering his words.

"N-No, you didn't scare me! Just surprised... I wasn't expecting someone here, they're all talking in there."

His face breaks into a shy smile, in your stomach butterflies begin to flap their delicate wings.

"I noticed it too, but I only know Seokjin and didn't see any other familiar faces, so I preferred to admire the moon.... it's beautiful, isn't it?" his gentle voice is a boon to your ears, after the sharp and inquisitive looks of the Park family, this boy is giving you some peace.

"Yes ... really beautiful" you smile, then extend a hand, "I'm Han Y/N, nice to meet you" you introduce yourself in a lively tone, but he stares at your hand for a few seconds, so long that you think you've done or said too much. You try to withdraw it uncomfortably, but to your surprise he reaches for it, and instead of a handshake as you expect, you see him politely bow his head, leaving an imperceptible kiss on the back of your hand, it's barely a brush, but a flush of heat reaches your cheeks and you feel a strange tingling sensation there where he lightly placed his lips, you've never experienced a hand-kiss, and few knew how to do it nowadays, but he was perfect, not at all vulgar or slimy.

Before fully raising his head, he lifts his eyes nailing yours, from that angle his gaze takes on a predatory hint, which disappears in a flash when he returns to a more natural position.

With surprise you have to breathe deeper to stop your arousal from rising, you don't know if vampires can feel such a change, you hope not.

"Oh...I didn't expect that," you giggle in embarrassment, he follows.

"My mother raised me that way, in her time it was a pleasant duty" he explains, and that is the certainty you were looking for, he is a vampire, "My name is Jungkook, Jeon Jungkook to be exact."

Jeon... Jeon... Jungkook?

Of course, you remember now. He's Kim Seokjin's manager, he handles most of his work commitments, maybe you could ask him for a little help.... No! You can't. You're at an engagement party, goodness! Jimin would take care of it, as he has already promised.

The guy in front of you looks around, "Did you come here with someone or do you know Jin?"

Okay, you came here as a fake girlfriend and technically you should support your best friend's plan, but looking at Jungkook something tells you that you shouldn't tell him such a lie, you don't know why-something in your brain says to seize the moment.

"I'm here with a friend of mine, he didn't have anyone to accompany him so I offered, did you?" you ask, his smile growing brighter and his perfect skin darkening the moon itself.

"I came alone, I had no one to ask," he shyly shrugs his shoulders and almost squeaks with tenderness, how can a guy so attractive and with such a size, also be infinitely cute?

The rhythm of a foreign song began to resound from the hall, you cast a quick glance at the stained glass windows and besides the reflection of the two of you you see numerous couples holding hands and moving to those notes, Seokjin is there too, he must have opened the dance. You envy them all. Even those who didn't know how to dance most likely threw themselves boldly onto the dance floor, you on the other hand are just good at blocking yourself like a piece of marble.... Jimin often teases you for this reason.

A little embarrassed you look at the tips of your shoes, not sure how to continue the conversation, you're such a dork.

"Do you want to dance?"

That question sends you into a tizzy.

You like Jungkook so much, but you don't know how to dance, and your instincts are screaming at you to tell him a sharp no right away, but the butterflies in your stomach want to push you to accept.

"Here... I would gladly accept, but I don't know how to dance and to tell the truth I always freeze, I'm not suitable," you chuckle sadly, but he tilts his head slightly, in his eyes you can see a spark of amusement.

"You only talk like that because you've had the wrong dance partners, give me a chance" he is firm in what he says, but you know you would only look like an idiot.

"I'd make you look bad, I don't want to ruin the reputation of a guy I just met" you try to joke, Jungkook takes two more steps toward you, you find him practically with his chest inches from your face, he's damn tall.

"In that case I will pretend to be a bad dancer, and then everyone will look at me, I will take responsibility for everything.'

'They'll look at you anyway, and wonder why a walking bag of blood is hanging from your divine arm' you think regretfully.

You sigh, only to find yourself nodding, there's no harm in trying, and then when would you have a similar encounter again?

Jungkook gives the impression of being one of those guys you only meet once in a lifetime.

You earn a smile from him with his teeth firmly in view, not only are they as white as the best porcelain in the country, but among them, two in particular have the typical sharp points that make vampires deadly predators, you feel the urge to reach out a hand and feel under your fingertips how sharp they can be, you stop only because he was quick to take you to the dance floor before you can change your mind, and with the light of the room you finally get a chance to study his clothes, he's wearing a cream-colored silk shirt, it comes down soft and loose but does nothing to hide the hard lines on his back and chest, his pants instead are tight against his skin and highlight the full power of his thighs.

Shit, you won't get out of it.

"It's a slow dance, you just have to put your hands here" gently he brings your arms around his neck, your hands graze his shoulders and your heart misses a beat, his sweetest eyes don't leave your face for a single moment, attentive to your reaction when his arms encircle your hips, "And then you have to follow the song, accompanying your body to mine" he whispers in your ear, you are trembling and hope he doesn't notice, a weight is falling on your legs, it's happening again. You are afraid to dance, people's judgment has always upset you, you will make him look bad.

You try to pull away from Jungkook, who in response just tightens his grip, now you're both an inch away from touching each other completely and his eyes seen from so close are absolutely a sight, oh god... his dark lashes are so long and his skin glows with a life of its own.

"Hey, hey... take it easy and look around, no one is paying attention to us, just move as your instinct tells you" you barely understand his words, his lips are in the foreground and you can see every scarlet ripple of their soft, shiny skin, you notice every little mole adorning his face, you swallow hard.

That's right, no one is looking at you to your relief, you nod and begin to move slowly, simply following his body. You frown, it's not so bad.

Well, it's still a slow one, you just have to rock a little and....

"I'm sorry to ask you like this and maybe I'm sounding intrusive-" he lowers himself to the crook of your shoulder, inches from your neck, his icy breath sparks little shivers on your skin and your nostrils are invested with his captivating, fresh scent, "Is there anyone in your life yet?"

Your eyelids begin to flicker, caught as you are by his scent you almost choke on your own saliva at his words.

He gives you a worried look, "Sorry, - he chuckles uncomfortably - I don't usually do that."

"No! I mean, I mean, relax! You didn't sound strange or intrusive," you quickly set the record straight, what sounds strange is your figure clasped in the arms of such an absolutely wonderful being as he is, "Anyway.... define 'someone' " you try not to look around the room, if you had seen Jimin's parents you would have died instantly.

You see him tighten his lips into an absolutely adorable expression, "I don't know… like a boyfriend, or a husband ... or someone you're dating," you think of Jimin, technically for that night you're his girlfriend, but you can't fake it in front of Jungkook, even if it's a stranger you'll never see again.

"No, actually no...what about you?" you choose honesty, plus you're curious too, does he have someone to go back to?

His smile returns to relax features once contracted with worry, afterwards he shakes his head.

"Neither have I, I've just had bad experiences, unfortunately," he pauses in the middle of the room, at first you don't understand what his intentions are, you see him move a few inches closer to you and everything about him screams a certain amount of seriousness, "But seeing you there, under the moonlight, I-"

"Baby!"

You widen your eyes, see Jungkook freeze and inside you scream in despair, why? Why did Jimin have to come right now?

Jungkook was saying something important, you feel it, and now he is simply walking away from you. A chasm opens in your chest. You want to kill Jimin, and then drown yourself in the valley of your own tears. You turn to cast a furious glance at the one who calls himself your friend.

"Jimin..." you hiss, he must have realized he's interrupted something because you notice him pale, more than he already is.

"Um... Jungkook?" he turns to the boy next to you, which makes you wince since he looks anything but pleased at the interruption. His contracted jaw gives him a dangerous air that you didn't think was possible in a sweet guy like him. But after all, you've known him for a little over half an hour; anything could have been possible.

"Do you two know each other?" he asks stiffly, before Jimin can answer him, you get in the way.

"Yes! He's the friend I accompanied to the party, rather ... do you two know each other too?" you feel nervous, not expecting such a turn of events.

Jimin nods, "We've been friends for years and we also work together."

Oh, great. Now you can go bury yourself. You're Jimin's fake girlfriend and you've ambiguously spent time with one of his friends.

"I didn't expect to find you here, you usually never attend events like this... you say couples make you lonely," Jimin teases him, but Jungkook just shrugs.

"My instinct was telling me to come, at least this time..." he casts you a brief glance, "But I think it's getting late for me, I'll leave you to your knight" with the last sentence he turns to you, and you don't miss his facial rigidity, you want to ask him to stay, but the words don't come out of your mouth. You have to stick to the plan; it would have been strange for the Parks to see their son's girlfriend dancing with another man all evening.

You watch him walk away into the crowd with regret, Jimin coughing slightly.

"I'm sorry... did you like him?" he asks cautiously, you sigh.

"No, it's okay... it's my fault, I got too carried away when tonight was all about you," you reply.

"Don't say that, you make me feel like a monster" he whimpers, a feeling of emptiness takes hold throughout your body, "I could arrange for you to go out together" he proposes, but you shake your head in denial.

You feel somehow that you have let Jungkook down, you don't know why, but you won't have the courage to talk to him again.

You turn to Jimin, "What happened with your parents? Did you tell them what your intentions are?"

The boy returns an apologetic expression to you, "In truth..."

#bts #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #jungkook fiction #jungkook fic #jungkook x reader #vampire jungkook x reader #jungkook imagine #bts vampire au #bts smut fanfiction #bts smut #bts fanfiction smut #bts x reader #bts x you #jungkook x you #vampire bts #bts ff #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook smut

[fillinforlater]

On her bottom (Part 1/2)

Male Reader x Cho Miyeon (ft. Monday, Xiaoting)

Length: 3338 words

Tags: DADDY KINK, degradation, self-degradation, dom!reader, sub!idol, anal, rough sex, hardcore, curses, name calling, overstimulation, begging, sex as service, blowjob, deepthroat, face fuck, hateful sex, foot job, (very rough) pussy slaps, emotional manipulation, failure!Miyeon / disappointed!Daddy

TW: the usual, please: Degradation, rough sex, name calling, pussy slapping

Inspiration: @sooyadelicacies and I just... we just pop when it comes to Daddy and his good/bad girls, yk?

Credit: @sooyadelicacies for co-writing and providing the pics!

(A/N: Read "On her knees" first for extra context. It's in the same universe, same OC. Part 2/2 will be released a couple days later!)

"Daddy, oh my God, I'm so close."

Monday is insatiable. Even if you could somehow shove your cock into her for 24 hours straight each day of the year it wouldn't be enough for her needy pussy. It doesn't concern you, but whenever you tend to her needs, it's annoying and exhausting. Not her pussy, not her ass, but her attitude mixed with her subbyness—you just can't help but fuck her.

Today, her face is buried into one of your couches while you fuck her doggystyle into it. Her wet hole clenches on nothing and squirts cum everywhere. She knows a group comeback is coming up (fucking finally) and is ready to take your last load deep into her defiled ass. With a final groan, you plunge it into her.

"F-fuck, Daddy! Thank you, Daddy, I love you!"

Monday tenses up one final time before you pull out. Her entire body suddenly relaxes and in seconds, she is soundly asleep. You roll your eyes and stretch your arms. You deserve some rest as well, but if you stay here any longer, she might wake up again and demand your cock with her subby eyes and killer body. You gotta get out of here—

Something unexpected: your phone rings. You hastily grab it to not wake up Monday (though nothing could wake her up from the new, sex-induced dreamland) and take the call. With no time to check who actually called, the voice surprises you.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Daddy~ Are you free for meeeee?"

"Miyeon? Why are you call—oh no, don't tell me."

"What? Doesn't Daddy want me to treat him well~? I know you must be stressed from all these greedy rookies and young sluts, ugh!"

You take a deep sigh of relief. Miyeon has hit the nail on the head and her offer sounds very much irresistible. Whatever she will do to 'treat you well', it's probably better than a desperate demand for a hard fucking which your hips and legs just can't take anymore.

"You are fucking right. They are greedy. But not as greedy as you. Calling me on my private phone to ask for me, ts, who do you think you are?" you joke and collect the designer clothes spread around your main living (and fucking) room.

"Oh? They still walk to your house to beg for cock? Do you still live in the 19th century, or what?" Miyeon jokes as well, but she knows very well why the new whores don't get to call you. They need to know their place and that their desires are last in line when it comes to relevance. 

"You have earned that right to call me. So: where do we meet, bitch?"

"I'll send you the address and some pictures, Daddy. See ya~"

The second the call ends, you put on a plain, gray hoodie as well as sunglasses. You might not be an idol, but people might still recognize your face wherever you go. These short-term meet-ups should at least be enjoyed with some form of caution.

As you're about to leave your house, someone knocks at the front door. An annoyed looking idol, frustrated from dance practice, needy for stress relief and ready to do whatever it takes to get your cock. In the past, different names would pop up in your head. There was Jennie who did the same or Sana, but today it’s no other than Xiaoting.

"Oh. What the fuck are you doing here?"

"Daddy! P-please! Use my tight little holes, fill me with cum and—"

"Stop screaming your dumb whore!" you hiss and cover her mouth. The intimidated girl notices her mistake and begs for mercy through her glistening eyes. You look at her slutty attire, pencil skirt, thigh-highs, ripped shirt, hot glasses—but she made a mistake and unfortunately, you have no time for her.

"Why are you not on your knees? For sluts like you I have no time. I have business to attend to."

"B-but I will take your cock good, Daddy! My ass—"

You slap across her face and she drops to her knees with a disappointed whine.

"Crawl into the house. Kneel next to the door like an obedient dog and wait. I'll decide later if I have time for you, bitch!"

She nods quietly and crawls through the door and into the entrance hall. Her skirt is so short, you can see a diamond plug protrude from in between her firm ass cheeks. She almost got you there, but Miyeon is more important, your rest is more important then some cock-hungry rookie. You dart off immediately.

After this incident with one of your new pets, it gave you all the more reason to high tail to Miyeon's, to see someone who understood, no, was devoted to your pleasure and every word. Insolence could be fun to break, but it required energy. Miyeon was generous, she knew her function, her only purpose was to serve you. That's what you need right now. A good girl. And Miyeon was as good as they come, and she was very good at that too.

"Hello, Daddy~ come on in."

Before you even have the chance to fully open the door, Miyeon eyes you through its glass elements and pulls you in. The house looks very odd. The pictures left you with a lot of doubt, but now you are sure: this can't possibly be Miyeon's home. Where are you?

"Miyeon, what is this place? It looks like a cliche haunted house?"

The blonde doesn't listen and instead firmly grabs the crotch of your jeans while pressing her cheek onto your chest. She was always close, always clingy, and she loved hearing your heartbeat increase as she did her best to get you hard.

"Ah, fuck. Stop being so needy and answer my question first!"

"Daddy, let me take care of you, let me serve you, let me be your whore. I-I haven't been touched by anyone, Daddy. I keep myself pure just for you like you taught us..." 

"Miyeon. Daddy asked you a question. Answer it," you say briskly. You were not in the mood for games. You came here to her for the exact intention not to play games. You only accepted flesh and holes and absolute loyalty.

"We filmed something here and I really liked the place. It's cozy, old and—I couldn't help myself imagining pleasuring you, Daddy."

You grab Miyeon's ass and press her closer into you. She yelps when your growing erection pokes her exposed midriff. No matter how high or hot her heels are, she'll always be shorter than you. Shorter, but the perfect size for a fleshlight. 

"Your blond hair looks nice," you say, stroking it softly.

"Thank you, Daddy."

Your digits stop the strokes and start to tightly grab. Miyeon yelps again when you pull her head backwards and bestow her neck with your lips. A couple of heavy sucks by you and feral moans by Miyeon later, and a large hickey clearly marks her as yours again. Not that she wasn't before, but now everyone can see: this bitch is owned by someone. Miyeon's eyes sparkle in happiness at the branding.

"Daddy doesn't want to stand all the time. Show me where I can rest."

"Yes! Of course, Daddy! I've prepared everything to serve you. I-you won't have to call on anyone else tonight.." 

You see how your influence still lingers on them. No matter what they achieved, the only thing that mattered was your happiness, your approval. You had hundreds of girls at your beck and call and to make such a bold claim that a single person would be enough for you, Miyeon sure felt confident.

"Hm, we'll see about that."

Miyeon guides you through the tight corridors of the old-looking house. You're unsure if the house really is old or if it is just meant to look that way for the music video. You are not unsure however if Miyeon is wet or not. As you walk, she still presses her ass backwards against your cock and expertly wiggles it to send tiny shots of stimulation up your spine. She really tries to be your guide and your cock tease at the same time. A dedicated slut is always welcome.

"Here it is. Everything for my Daddy!"

Miyeon's room was pretty and cozy, romantic even. It makes you become highly attentive. She wanted emotional attachment from you, something that always had to be earned. No one knows how, so some of them never try, but those that do always have a different way to get to your ‘soft side’.

You take one glance at what she prepared but it’s just nothing to you.

"Get to it, Miyeon. Why would I care about decor?"

"Th-then lay down, Daddy. I'll do my best. Don't wo-worry about a thing."

With the hope of Miyeon finally getting to the point, you lay down on the beautifully prepared bed. It too looked old and its creaking sounds ancient, but the mattress was insanely comfortable. Your high-end, super expensive mattress at home couldn't compare. You back has never felt something this incredible before—except of course for all the amazing tits of some of your favorite whores, but those are out of competition.

Miyeon eagerly pulls down your zippers and continues with your jeans and boxers. Your semi-hard cock springs free and she marvels at it. Miyeon was always one to worship your cock intently, and her hot gaze resting on your manhood made you feel powerful. You knew each second she was allowed to see it, feel it, choke on it made her feel alive. She once was a top class worshiper.

"Oh my God, it's so beautiful. Daddy, I waited so long for this."

With nothing in her way, she crawls in between your legs towards it. Her ass is high up, her face is right beneath it. Miyeon's lips reach for it, but as always, she gazes up at you and awaits your approval. If it's clothed she makes sure to tease it, but now, she is submissive for it.

"Pleasure me, slut. Do what you’re supposed to do."

Miyeon starts with a string of spit dripping from her mouth. She lets it coat your cock before jerking you off with her hand and finally elongating her tongue to swirl around your tip. With her other hand, she massages your balls. This was her favorite thing in the whole world. Your perfect cock.

"The things I would do for my Daddy's cock," Miyeon whispers and kisses up your shaft and then your tip, "I don't need to sing, when I can just choke on it everyday."

You are aroused, but unimpressed. Only when she commits and actually rams you in between her lush lips and down her throat, your eyes widen for a moment. Miyeon begins to gag and choke violently, but every sound she produces forces her to go deeper down on it. You groan when your tip reaches the back of her throat, but to your dismay, Miyeon lets herself breathe by releasing you.

"I don't need to be on stage, when I can just be on my knees all day and drool all over you."

You say nothing to her as you begin to reach for your phone. You were not impressed. She should have kept going, choking and gagging as your cock slammed the back of her throat, but instead of doing that, she spent more time telling you of the things she would do instead of just doing them. When did she get so chatty? Too comfortable. You realized your own error, you had been too lenient allowing her to speak, allowing her to call you freely and ask for your time. It was a privilege she didn't deserve to keep.

When she starts to deepthroat herself again, you strike. Her blonde locks are beautiful handles to pin her down on. This time, her gags are not a mere tease, they stimulate you. Drool isn't a mere word she dropped, drool is now really dropping, running out of her stuffed mouth and all over your balls. You intend to make her understand that this dedication to suffocation is the only way you'll be pleased with her. No words of commitment; actual commitment.

You pull up and slam her head down again. The time she had to breathe was miniscule. Tears stream down her face just like the drool she mentioned before. Miyeon tries to look through them and up to you, but she finds something way more vicious when you say demonically:

"If you don't make me cum in the next two minutes, I'll call your replacement."

This makes Miyeon jump. She frees herself from your hold, not because she could, but because you let her. She pulls down her pink and white skirt immediately and reveals juice covered lace panties in black. She also opens up her high heels to free her delicious looking feet from this stylish, yet useless prison. 

Miyeon becomes bold, pulling up your hoodie and sitting down on your abs. You'd question her method and put her in her place, but when you feel her soft feet with white polish around your cock, you let it slide. After all, she doesn't say unnecessary words to get your attention anymore; instead she grinds on your abs and jerks your cock with her smooth soles.

"Make me cum with those feet whore. They are your saving grace right now. If you don't give me the greatest fucking footjob right now, you won't have the privilege to call me again. Maybe I'll call Yuqi, or..." 

What made you a god to these whores was how you remembered every detail about them, what their desires were, what their vulnerabilities were. Miyeon was a hair away from debuting with Blackpink. It was always an insecurity of hers. 

"I'll call Rosie or Jisoo. They give footjobs worthy of Daddy."

Miyeon strokes faster, with more ingenuity. She rolls her soles softly up and down your dick, with no certain intervals. The skill and texture of her feet is all she has left to redeem herself now and you intend on humbling even this remarkable ability of hers by reaching for your phone and not even looking at her or her work as she tries her best.

You scroll through your enormous contact list and check the clock in the meantime. One more minute. One minute and after that, Miyeon's self-worth will be ruined. All those fans out there couldn't cheer her up, no matter how hard they tried. Her reputation is decided by one person alone: you. If she could find a way to be put into place while still making you cum, it would be her last chance.

"Fuck! Ah!"

Miyeon screeches in pain. A noisy spank, then another and another, and Miyeon repeatedly cries out. Her body shudders after each spank and she caught your attention. You look down at her body from behind. Her footjob hasn't changed, it's still good, but not enough. It has also not made her worthy of your seed. What has changed however, is what happens in between her thighs. Miyeon has begun to slap her wet, covered labia over and over again. She doesn't hold back either, striking with all her power and crying real tears.

"Whore! The visual Miyeon, an absolute painslut. Spread your legs more!"

You begin to strike as well. Your first hit is as strong as her last, though it's only the beginning. You follow it up with a dozen more strikes, rapidly released, and Miyeon convulses in pain and pleasure. She leans further back into you and makes her feet squeeze your cock tightly.

"I'm so-sorry, Daddy! I-this bitch has f-failed. I need-d to be punished."

"Do you even fucking deserve a punishment? Why should I waste more energy? I came here to relax, to be served, to be pleasured. I thought I trained you better than this. It's why you're as free as you are, but maybe that was a mistake. I should have kept you longer to train you more. What a disappointment."

"You—ah—you're right, D-Daddy! I-I have failed, I have slipped, please b-bring me back!"

With a roaring, demonic sigh you pull aside the fabric separating Miyeon's pussy from your fingers. Her eyes widen as you don't hesitate to violently flick her clit. The line between pain and pleasure blurs for Miyeon as your hand almost blurs from the speed you go at her bundle of nerves. Miyeon's feet tense up unwillingly, yet they still try to squeeze out your load in the nick of time, to no avail.

"I thought you were all ready to go off on your own, to be at Daddy's beck and call but you aren't better than the new sluts I'm training now! I am so disappointed in you Miyeon. Is this what you really wanted? To fucking fail so you'd be back in Daddy's chambers? I hate weakness and incompetency."

Your anger makes you go even harder, to the point where Miyeon is speechless. Speechless because all her sensitive nerves above her pussy are in your grasp. She is unable to escape this grasp. It was her choice to be loyal to you, and for the couple of years she was, she never failed this badly. Tears not only streak down her gorgeous, flushed cheeks, they burst out of her eyes like fountains of despair. Her arms are mostly numb, only twitching from time to time under your violence. Her tongue is also numb, but through her cries, wails and moans, you still pick up her fragmented sentence:

"Please—Daddy, d-don't—fuck,ah—touch me. I d-don't deserve you! I do–I'm cumming!"

Your eyes were livid. 

"You fucking bitch, you don’t know shit! You have no clue how to be useful at all, do you? I don't care if your group makes all the successful albums in the world or if you go on tours. No matter what you fucking accomplish, you're just another whore for Daddy. You have no say in any matter. You don't fucking decide if I touch you or not, how fucking dare you!"

Miyeon's mouth produces nothing but gasps and screams as her orgasm controls every inch of her body. She gushes copious amounts of warm girl juice onto your abs and crotch and it drips onto the sheets. A final slap on her cunt, then even her loudest noises subside and only whimpers and snot remains. The beautiful Miyeon looks like an absolute mess. Most of her make-up is already off of her face.

You remove her limb legs from your spent cock. It had been squeezed too tightly in the gap of her feet. She was supposed to service it, not play with it like a dildo. Her joy is a non-factore, especially in the matter of how you use her. You grab Miyeon's calves and fold her in half, a sort of full nelson position.

"Hold your legs steady like this, bitch!" you order coldly, "Stay like this and look at me."

You climb out from underneath her and watch her squirm when a phone camera hovers before her. A couple of flashes later and Miyeon truly understands how much power you have. Depending on who sees these pictures, her career might be fucked, her reputation ruined, her dignity annihilated. She begins to cry again, but you quickly hush her.

"Shut the fuck up. I'm gonna send them to a better bitch, a loyal whore, who will use her holes to service me properly. You think these photos could end you? No. I can already do it without these. Do you forget who I am? Who tamed and made so many like you? Saddest thing is, I didn't even get to fucking cum. What a waste of my time this was. Once you get your shit together, I expect to see you back in my chambers for re-education. Are we clear?"

(TBC...)

#kpop smut #girl group smut #female idol smut #miyeon smut #cho miyeon smut #gidle smut #miyeon gidle smut #male reader #male reader insert #male reader smut

[bestpigeon]

Any chance we can get a Lucifer x platonic sinner reader who sees the king of hell as a father figure? Perhaps reader was like Lucifer’s personal guard/assistant who arrived in hell over a century ago, and has been loyal to the Morningstar family, over the years seeing him less as his king but as a father? And during Lucifer’s mega depression time, always gave his best to cheer him up. Reader never admits it, as he feels he must know his place, and not overstep, but Lucifer starts to view reader as family too.

This is an amazing idea omg, thank you sm! Also, I did see your other request, this will be x platonic male!

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-A NEW FATHER-

Lucifer x platonic male sinner

Warnings - none?

Words - 1.2k

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I have been working for King Lucifer for a long time. Around a centry to be exact, so a long time. Im simply just a worker. I pass on messages and help Lucifer when he needs. Kind of like a personal assistant. When i first fell upon hell, i landed in a pickle. I landed and crushed, two out of multiple imps. They weren't pleased and started attacking me, Lucifer was quick to the rescue. I've been working with him every since.

Lucifer had just received a call from his daughter, Charlie, and is currently walking around his room rapidly. He's stressed, worried, excited, and clearly overwhealmed.

"Charlie wants to see me! but what if i mess up? oohh no, i can't. i have to impress her-" He says. He was basically talking to himself. i walk towards him in an attempt to comfort him.

"Sir? There's nothing to worry about, i can assure you, everything will be fine." I say as a hand moved to his shoulder. He sighs and stands sationary, finally. I smile at him, and he just rubs his forehead.

"Yeah - yeah, just dont want to embarrass myself, yknow?" He says, i think for a while before opening my mouth to speak, but i get quickly interrupted.

"ooh! what if you join me? Im sure Charlie would want to meet you, and you always help me calm down." He says as he moves to put both his hands on my shoudlers and pulls me down to his height. I didn't really mind the idea, but i didn't want to be a burden.

"i mean, sure? But i wouldn't want to get in the way-" I say before he shakes me rapidly.

"It'll be fine! Go get your stuff, " He says as he walks out the corridor and into his bedroom.

"My daughter wants to see meee!" He says as he dissapeares into his room. I smile and leave to go pack. I couldn't help but feel excited. i mean, I've always wanted to meet Charlie, and it's like a free vacation! Me and Lucifer have been close for a while now, so him picking me to come with him is understandable.

I pack my stuff and me and Lucifer leave together. He opens a portal and knocks on the front door to a hotel. I've heard Lucifer talk about this place a lot. He breags all the time that his own child runs it, and he's proud of her. I couldn't help but appreciate his passion and love for Charlie. I've never really had any type of parental figure, or at least we dont talk to me anymore. I dont even know where they are. they could be in heaven. Either way, i can't help but feel attached to Lucifer. Almost like he's replacing my father. He treats me with care, and i just can't help but feel like he's more than my boss, a father almost.

Of course, I'd never tell him that.

The door opens, and Lucifer walks in. He automatically hugs Charlie and looks around. I step in quietly and just observe. I make eye contact with Charlie, and i smile. I turn to her while Lucifer is on the ground talking to a cat.

"Hi, Lucifers told me lots about you Charlie, its nice to meet you." I say as i extened my hand out for a hand shake. She smiles widley and grabs my hand, and rapidly shakes it.

"Hi! It's nice to meet you!" She says with a big smile smothered on her face. It gets interrupted by Lucifer standing between us, putting a hand on each of our shoulders. He smiles widley at us. This trip is going to be fun.

-3 days later-

It's me and Lucfiers' third day staying in Charlies hotel. It's been quite pleasent so far. Appart from the Lucifer and Alastor tension. Me and Charlie have been hanging out a lot too, talking, walking, laughing. I enjoy being around Charlie, shes lovley, probably too nice to be hell, but i probably shouldn't judge a book by its cover. We are currently chatting in her office, mainly getting to know each other and sometimes throwing in a bit about how lucifers been.

"So, my dad saved you, and you've worked with him ever since? wow, you're really loyal." She says as she leans on her elbows on her desk. I smile at her and nod.

"Yeah, he treats me like a friend." I say, Charlie nods and sighs.

"Thank you for taking care of my father.. and are you sure you just see Lucifer as a friend?" She says as she tilts her head while keeping eye contact with me. I sigh and look down at the floor.

"Um, well.. i mean, he's like family to me? a father, maybe." I say. Charlies expression softens, and she smiles.

"That's okay! I mean, you being my brother sounds nice. Why dont you tell him? You're basically family to him anyway. He normally isolates himself." She says as she leans forward. We keep eye contact for a while before i smile and then nod.

"That.. dosent sound bad. I dont think he sees me as a son, though, so can we keep this a secret for now?" I say as i stand up. It was quite late and i needed some sleep. It's been a long day.

"Yeah, of course! Go get some sleep, todays been exahasting." She says as she waves at me. I smile and wave back before leaving and shutting the door. I get jumpscared but Lucifer, who appears around the corner.

"Hey! You and Char-Char seem to be getting along!" He says as he approaches me and puts a hand on my shoulder. I smile at him softly. He really is the best father figure i could ever ask for.

"Yeah, we have. Were good friends." I say. Lucifer smiles at me. He yawns, and i chuckle at him. I could see the eye bags under his eyes.

"That's great, and I'll see you tomorrow, goodnight, kiddo!" He says as he walks away.

"Night d- Lucifer." I say, quickly correcting myself as i go towards my room.

-Next morning-

I awake and walk out of my room. I walk into the lobby and grab water from the fridge. I see Lucifer and Charlie chatting on the sofa. I make eye contact with Lucifer, and in unison, we smile. "Morning," He says.

"morning dad" I say as i drink the rest of my drink. I didn't even notice what i said. Lucifers eye widened, and he said something to Charlie before approaching me.

"you- why did you call me dad? do you see me as a father?" He says as he taps my shoulder. I panic as i realise what i said. We just stare at each other in silence before i finally speak.

"uh- yeah..i didn't mean to, i didn't want to make you uncomfort-" I say before i get interrupted by being pulled into a tight hug. I gasp, and my eyes widen slightly. I look at Charlie, and she gives me a thumbs up.

"It's fine! You're like a kid to me, my kid! I dont mind, " He says as i hug him back. I smile and chuckle. What a father figure i have, huh?

Charlie approaches me and joins in with the hug.

"I've always wanted a sibling! And a brother, now i have both, how exciting!" She says with a smile. I chuckle, and so does Lucifer.

"And I've always wanted a son,"

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Thank you for the recommendation! This was a good one.

#hazbin hotel #platonic #x platonic!reader #lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel x male reader #hazbin hotel x reader #lucifer morningstar #platonic reader

[octoberclidan]

Dances with Team Free Will - Castiel

Request: So the boys probably never had the opportunity to go to school dances, right? I mean in that one episode about when Dean was living in that boys' home I think he was about to go to homecoming and then John showed up to pick him up.

So what if reader throws a sort of mini prom/homecoming for each member (separately) of tfw? How would each one react?

Pairing: Castiel x Reader

Masterlist

Dean's Version

Sam's Version

Note: full disclaimer, school dances aren't really a thing in my country, so I don't really know what they're like, but I've done my best!

Story:

"Hey, Cas?" [Y/N] asked as she set some grocery bags down at the kitchen table in the bunker. She was just back from her turn of doing the supply run. The boys were all sitting at the table enjoying a drink, and Sam hopped up immediately to help her start putting the shopping away.

"Yes?"

"Were you on earth at all in the 90s?" She asked him. He looked slightly confused but nodded anyway.

"Yes".

"Really?" Dean asked, setting his beer down. "What did you look like in the 90s?" Cas turned from [Y/N] to Dean to answer his question.

"I inhabited a female vessel from the late 1890s to the early 1900s, I told you that before Dean".

"Cas", Sam spoke up after closing the refrigerator door. "When someone says the 90s, they mean the 1990s". Cas looked confused and Dean chuckled at him.

"Why would I assume a specific century?"

"You just do", Dean shrugged at him then looked over to [Y/N]. "Why'd you ask?"

"I passed by the local bar on my way back, they had a poster up, there's gonna be a 90s themed dance tonight". She sat down opposite Cas at the kitchen table. "You never experienced school dances, or any sort of dance, right?"

"That's correct", he nodded at her.

"Great, well, now's your chance! My high school always had decade themed dances, and I used to love them. You'll come with me tonight, won't you?"

"Um", he looked between the Winchesters for any sign of what he should say, but they just looked at him with amused expressions. "I don't know-"

"Of course he will", Dean interrupted him with a slap on his back. "He's always wanted to go to a dance, right Cas?"

"I um-"

"Perfect! We'll leave at 8. I'm sure Dean can help you figure out what to wear", she smiled at him and stood up from the table, not giving (a now even more confused) Cas the chance to respond. She left the room and he blinked after her before turning to Dean.

"What exactly does this mean?"

Dean smirked over Cas' head at Sam, who was walking over to the table to join them, before looking back at Cas. "It means you're going on a date".

"You have to dress like they did in the 90s", Sam added.

"The 1990s", Cas confirmed hesitantly.

"Yeah, yeah the 1990s", Sam chuckled. "You're probably gonna have to go buy something, though a suit and trenchcoat is pretty timeless".

"Don't worry, we can head out and find you something, you have to make an effort for her", Dean stood up and motioned for Cas to follow him. "We are so taking photos", he laughed to himself as he left the kitchen, Cas following behind him and Sam watching the two of them leave, chuckling to himself at the thought of them shopping together.

***

[Y/N] had showered and was in her room getting ready. She was excited, she'd been looking for an excuse to get Cas on his own and spend some quality time with him. She knew that neither Sam nor Dean would want to come to a 90s themed dance, so she was sure she wouldn't be interrupted. She'd had a bit of a crush on Cas for awhile, and he was incredibly difficult to read, so she wanted to see if there was anything there between them. She slipped on a skirt she'd found in a thrift store in town earlier that day, as well as an old t-shirt and her denim jacket. She looked up 90s hairstyles and make up looks and was attempting to recreate them while not going overboard - she still wanted to look good.

Giving herself a final look over in her mirror, she took a deep breath and nodded to herself. She was suddenly feeling pretty nervous. She grabbed her purse and left the room, making her way to the bunker's map table where she'd find the boys. She smiled when she walked in to find all three of them waiting, and she almost didn't recognise Cas. He was wearing light blue jeans and a slightly oversized sweater. She'd never seen him look so informal, and despite the comfortable nature of the clothing, he looked anything but comfortable. Dean whistled at her as she walked over, and she rolled her eyes at him. "Hey", she smiled at Cas.

"Hello", he said back. Dean nudged his arm and Cas cleared his throat. "You look nice". She couldn't help but blush at his compliment, even though she could tell that Dean had told him to say it.

"Let's get going", she turned to Sam and Dean. "We won't be back too late".

"Have fun", Sam smiled at her and nodded to Cas, who began walking up the steps to the door.

"Wait, holdup", Dean walked over to them. "Wouldn't be a real dance without some photos of the two of you together. C'mon, Cas you stand behind [Y/N], hold her waist", [Y/N] blushed as Cas pressed up behind her, grabbing her waist and looking to Dean over her shoulder. "That's it. Smile, both of you", Dean held up his phone and quickly snapped a few photos, a smile of satisfaction on his face when he nodded to them and put the phone into his pocket. The Winchesters watched them leave, and immediately began talking about whether or not Cas was going to relax at all.

***

It wasn't too busy at the bar. Several people were up dancing to popular 90s songs, and a few others were sitting around at tables. "Come on", she said to Cas as she spotted a free table. She grabbed his hand and pulled him towards it, and they both took a seat. "What do you think?"

"It's very colourful", he said, looking around at the decorations and everyone's outfits. "Was the 90s always this loud?"

"In bars? I don't know, I wasn't really old enough to go out partying in the 90s", she shrugged at him. "Do you want a drink?" She asked and he nodded, paused for a second as if he'd just been reminded of something, then quickly stood up.

"I'll get drinks, do you want what you normally get or are you supposed to order something from the 90s?"

"My normal drink is fine, thank you", she smiled at him and he walked over to the bar to order their drinks. She looked around, it definitely wasn't like her old school dances, but the music brought back fond memories of her life before hunting monsters. She watched Cas as he waited for the drinks, wondering what he was thinking about, wondering if she would be able to convince him to get up and dance with her. It was odd seeing him in such casual clothes, he just blended into the environment. Well, almost. He was still a lot stiffer than the people laughing and dancing around him, and his blue eyes were easy to spot in the crowd.

[Y/N] and Cas sat and drank for awhile. It was a little bit awkward at the beginning, usually Sam or Dean would act as a buffer between them, but after awhile she noticed Cas start to relax a bit more and allow himself to smile as she told him stories of her old school dances and everything she used to get up to back then.

"Speaking of dances", she took one last sip from her drink, "are you ready to get up and have some fun?" She stood up and held her hand out to him. He raised an eyebrow but decided to take her hand, and followed her out to where others were dancing. He didn't quite know what to do, so for a moment he just stood there while [Y/N] started to dance to the music. She giggled at him, he looked so lost, so she grabbed his hands and began to pull him around in a circle, and though he didn't quite know why, he was enjoying it. He began to try keep up with her, and he began to laugh as they danced clumsily around the room, trying to avoid bumping into those around them. After awhile she grabbed the sides of his sweatshirt and pulled him closer, wrapping her hands around his waist and looking up at him. Instinctually, his now empty hands landed on her hips, and they slowed down to a gentle sway.

"That was.. fun", he said, smiling down at her. "I didn't really know what to expect, Dean said something about making sure I 'make a move', and I guess we just did a lot of moving".

[Y/N] giggled and leaned her head on his chest. "That's not what he meant about making a move", she said, smiling to herself. Cas took a moment to think about what Dean could've meant, trying to think back over the conversations they'd had in the past. He took a step back and pushed [Y/N]'s shoulders back so he could see her face, and without wasting more time, leaned down to kiss her. Her eyes fluttered closed and she gripped his sweatshirt either side of his waist and his hands slid up to cup her cheeks. She was pleasantly surprised when Cas slipped his tongue into her mouth, he was a much better kisser than she had imagined him to be.

Pulling back, Cas looked down to her. "Was that okay?" He asked.

"Yes. Yes, that was more than okay. Was it okay for you?"

"I liked it very much", he smiled at her.

"Would you like to kiss me again?" She asked hopefully, and felt both relieved and excited when he nodded and leaned back down to press his lips to hers again. She was so glad she'd spotted the poster earlier that day, and that Cas had agreed to come along. She wasn't looking forward to Sam and Dean's inevitable interrogation when they'd go home later, but for now, she was just going to tune out everything but the feeling of Cas' lips on hers.

The end.

Dean's version

Sam's version

Castiel Taglist: @123passwort @janineb86 @hobby27 @angelwiththeshotgun @pizzagirlxnsfwx

#supernatural #supernatural fanfic #castiel x reader #castiel fluff #castiel fanfiction #castiel fic #castiel #cas x y/n #cas x reader #castiel x y/n #castiel x you #spn fanfic #spn fanfiction #spn fic #spn reader insert #spn fluff #spn #supernatural fic #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fluff #supernatural imagine #dean winchester #sam winchester #fluffy

[themadlu]

A Simple Thing – Pt. 2

Astarion doesn't know how to navigate love, not when it's so real and alive. His fears are still clawing at him, and he still doesn't understand fully why Zélie chose him.

Luckily, she is set on making her sassy elf understand she isn't going anywhere without him. And what better place for starcrossed lovers to tend to each other, than a warm bath?

TW: nudity, mentions of sex. This one is mostly angsty fluff.

WC: ~4.4K

Read Part 1 here!

Tagging: @spacebarbarianweird (thanks for beta reading!), @amywritesthings

In his frantic state, it takes a beat too long for Astarion to realise that the tremors have rippled from his hands to his arms and jaw. Long enough that even Zélie, imperceptive as she is to such inconsequential little things, has noticed them. 

(He’ll never get used to seeing her worrying about him. To how utterly confusing it is, her accepting him so wholly, so completely, that the very sight of his distress pains her. He doesn’t have the strength to hate her for making him so reliant on her, not anymore. The spite that made him what he is cowers like a rabid dog when she’s close, and she is always close, in his mind if not in reality.)

Zélie lets out an exhale, looking briefly at the ceiling before training her eyes on his. Centuries worth of insecurities are on full display in his red irises, and it is all her fault—she ripped his practised masks off him, mercilessly, one by one, to unearth the corpse that lay underneath. 

You should have known better, silly love.

Her pale eyes are assessing him, studying every inch of his face and body. She must have found what she was looking for because he recognises that unexpected, precious softness in them, wider, kinder, welcoming him in. 

(They used to be so inscrutable at first.) 

Astarion’s pointy ears perk up in attention when Zélie suddenly speaks. “Come with me,” she says, then she…winks before turning her back to him.

What the hells is that?!

They have lived and fought (and slept) together, first side by side, then in each other’s arms, and this is the first time in all their travels that his ever-serious woman winks. Children do that in secret mocking; harlots do that to attract customers—he knows because he often did so himself.

He didn’t even think her face could do that. It makes her look young (Or just her age, he never knows with humans), free, happy even, and he can’t do anything else but stare and vow silently that she will stay free and content. He’ll do anything in his power to make it so.  

“Come where?” he questions, but he doesn’t really care, not as long as she wants him with her. 

A hand lifts in front of his face, so close he smells the dirt on it before seeing it and his nose wrinkles in horror. “Astarion? Come with me? Please.” Zélie is half facing him and Astarion finally takes notice that her whole little body is covered in something that smells foul. Disgusting. He can barely perceive the crisp scent he craves underneath all…that.

“What in the bloody hells is that, darling?! Did you fall into a pile of manure, perchance?” 

Zélie’s forehead creases in the way it does when her patience is being stretched thin. He is proud to say he’s almost always the cause of it. He likes to think that he impacts her almost as much as she does him. 

Deep down he knows he does, because she wouldn't be here with him now otherwise. She’d be with someone actually worthy of her, like generous, brave, perfect Wyll.

(That first jealousy has been smothered, but the damning embers remain.)

“Come where, he says? Oh, you know, I was thinking of going to one of those wine tasting events we saw in town the other day. Enjoy an elegant evening together as we sip on a delicious burgundy, discussing the current socio-economic woes of the city with its upper class. They would be ecstatic to reveal any valuable information to this,” she gesticulates at her mud-soaked clothes before tiredness deflates her a bit. 

“I have heard sewer essence is the latest perfume craze in Baldur’s Gate lately,” her lips curve upward in a barely-there smile. “Though now that I think about it, it’s best if you keep your distance until I properly wash. I don’t even want to think about what deadly diseases I am exposed to right now.”

Astarion catches her outstretched hand before she can retract it. She’ll vanish if he doesn’t tether himself to her. He intertwines his fingers with hers, so that his ivory skin turns murky brown. Like hers. 

“So I was right, love. You did fall into a pile of manure.”

His little saviour’s hand immediately relaxes in his (Another major source of pride, that he can elicit this response from her.), as he slowly, gently, brings it to his lips to press featherlight kisses on her abused knuckles. Gods, he’ll force her into an armour tomorrow. Gloves, at the very least. 

(Maybe he’ll tie her to the bed, safe and warm and out of harm’s way, as he’s threatened to do before.)

“More like a whole river of it,” she confesses. “And mud. It appears that mephits and bhaalists have no hygiene standards.”

The elf grinds his teeth, fangs pricking his lower lip. What a complete disregard for his feelings, to put herself at risk, the very being that gave him life anew. In his irritation, he cannot stop himself from pulling her body against his to ask the question burning on his tongue. 

“I wouldn’t know, darling. I was not allowed the pleasure to witness it with my own eyes,” his accusation borders on a whine. “How considerate of you, to leave me here in a clean bed while good old Gale is considered capable enough to offer his explosive services.”

The mocking tone is not enough to hide the fear in his voice. 

(“Pathetic, prattling child. What a useless thing you are.”)

“Why did you leave me here?” he whispers it, but it sounds as threatening and desperate as the prayer of a convict seconds from execution. 

“Because you looked tired.” 

Simple. Straight to the point as always. 

“Because I—what?” Astarion blinks at her as if she grew a second head. Him, tired? He is a newly freed vampire, he does not get tired. “I thought we discussed how I am perfectly capable of making my own decisions!”

Zélie straightens her posture, sighing in affectionate irritation. “Yes, Astarion, tired. Fatigued. Wary. Whichever term you prefer. I noticed you’ve been down, since…well, since all that happened with that twat.” 

Astarion’s anxiety eases at the way his precious hero refuses to name Cazador. His captor is dust and she established firmly that complete oblivion will be the punishment for his crimes, for what he did to so many souls (What he did to him. She damns his master so, because of her love for him.) The elf is dazed by her unyielding devotion and the warmth spreading from her calloused hand into every part of him. 

“Darling, I don’t know what you mean. I feel splendid! I’m free, finally, truly free. Thanks to you. With you!” He laughs in incredulity at the thought. “Only a couple of world-ending obstacles between us and the forever we deserve.”

Melancholy flashes through Zélie’s eyes. There won’t be a forever for them, not since she convinced him to renounce the Ascension. Even then, he knows she would have denied his offer of immortality. Astarion tenses, balling his free hand in a fist. Stubborn woman, refusing to understand. He will not lose her; he found her after centuries of unheard prayers, and he will not let something as trivial as mortality take her away from him. 

(He will prove her wrong, this once. All the sacrifices they’ve made are worth nothing less than eternity.)

Zélie pulls him from his thoughts, shuffling a little on her feet with uncharacteristic shyness. “I was also afraid.” She confesses it as if it were a dirty secret, but Astarion is unsure why. If she fears something, that’s all the more reason to take him with her (As if his devotion alone could shield her from all harm.)

 “After what happened at the mansion,” that. He remembers bits and pieces of his kidnapping, Petras’s sneers and Aurelia’s apologies, the darkness, being trapped and bruised and left naked in the kennels before—

A slave. Weak.

It makes sense, in hindsight, for her not to want—need—his protection in battle after what she saw. “Ah. My sweet, I—”

“I thought I lost you,” the words are barely voiced, but they ring like thunder in the vampire’s ears. “That can’t happen, you see. Astarion, I know it goes against what I’ve been taught and I know I am not one to show my feelings, and that is a strength until it becomes a weakness, especially with you. Because it appears I haven’t been clear enough: I don’t want to put you in danger anymore than necessary. Not now, nor after we’ll be done with all this bother.” She points at her temple while holding his gaze to ensure he understands. 

He does and he does not. 

Because he felt the same the closer they got to the city—his nice, simple plan falling apart spectacularly, backfiring even, as the dread of seeing his Zélie at Cazador’s mercy settled around him like grave chill. 

(It’s too soon to realise it, but Astarion would take being under his master again over seeing his hero hurt. And now he knows she feels the same way about him, a cadaver.)

Astarion starts trembling again from joy, fear, relief and something he learnt to recognise as unbridled devotion for the creature in front of him. Zélie has no chance to react, not when his roguish reflexes have been boosted by days of actual rest (And by her own blood.) His lips crash into hers, fangs clashing on smaller teeth, the kiss of an inexperienced schoolboy, but he’s decided that the small space between them is more punishment than being buried alive. 

“Oh, Astarion! The sewers,” he doesn’t care, not when she is here with him, safe and alive, not when he can smell her under all that mud. 

I missed you, he thinks, half-mad with quelled worry. 

“Don’t you dare leave me behind again, you utter moron,” he rasps between kisses. 

Zélie lets out an entertained breath and nips at his upper lip lovingly before rubbing her bumpy nose against his. Astarion doesn’t pretend to breathe when he is with her anymore, not since she’s grown so stupidly comfortable with his vampiric nature, but the subtle affection radiating from her is so encompassing that his dead lungs expand in an involuntary gulp of air. 

“Understood. Come then, sassy elf,” she murmurs. “I am in desperate need of a bath and now you are too,” she swipes at the mud on his face. His brave woman gently pulls him towards the wooden bathtub in the corner of the large room. “The others will come here soon after finishing their supper and there will be a…well, a bloodbath to decide who takes a bath first.”

Gods, what a terrible pun, as always. What a beautifully crooked smile at her own joke, as always. 

The sight makes the elf giggle with wonder before he can stop himself. 

(Once, Shadowheart dared to point out that Astarion and Zélie have a similar sense of humour. What nonsense. As if the Sharran knew what humour even is.)

“Astarion?” Zélie’s voice snaps him from his musings. The bath is filled with steaming water and her skin’s flushed with the heat under all that dirt. She looks at him, waits for him to decide what he wants to (He’d have to be fully dead not to join her.) He commits the sight before him to eternal memory, in the scraps of his soul that belong to her now.

“Oh, you need to feed as well. It’s already been a couple days.”

I still can’t believe you are real. Mine. All mine. 

“Come here, darling. Let me wash you first, gods know you need it,” he says in half-mocking. His solemn lover steps closer, trusting him always, and he unbuttons her blouse and trousers first, then takes off her smallclothes, all thoroughly soaked with disgusting mud. She stands naked before him as if it were the most normal thing in the world, to be bare in close quarters with a vampire.

(Home. She feels like home. She is safe with him.)

Only the light specks of pink on her cheeks betrays her, a telltale sign this unguarded version of her is only for him. It makes him want to fall to his knees in prayer and shake her for naivety at the same time.

The warmth of her body leaves him as she walks to the bath and submerges herself. By the time he gathers himself on a stool near her, the water is already murky brown. Ugh. He has never seen that much dirt on her, not even in the wilds of the Grove. “Stay still darling and let me turn you back into a human,” he coos, soap in hand, leathering her shoulders, arms, breasts, every part of the person he cherishes most of all. 

Bruises appear as the mud is scrubbed away. A large, purple patch on the right side of her ribcage, a smaller one on her clavicle. Anxiety bubbles up again and he has to say something (To prattle.) or else he’ll go insane. “Are you telling me that the others went straight to dinner looking like oversized dungs, my sweet?” Zélie almost chokes on a scandalised laugh, sending him a chastising glare. “I am the only ‘breathing dung’ here, thank you very much. They were not as unlucky, so they won’t empty the tavern with their stench.”

But of course they weren’t. I’ll drain them dry, balance the scales. 

Tiredness seeps off his brave leader and Astarion is still astounded at how easily she lets him take her worries away, if just for a moment. Only he can do that, with the smallest of things: a quip, a laugh, an innocent touch, just by being himself, whatever that means. She sees him like he matters (He does, to her.) and he will do anything not to lose that. He’s the strongest and weakest he’s ever been.

A newly-clean, calloused finger softly traces his cheekbone. “Where are you, Astarion? Would you rather wait for me outside?”

No!

“No! No, my love. I am exactly where I want to be.” He tries to be suave, but comes off as pathetic, like a babe who won’t leave his mother’s shadow. 

Zélie’s stare hardens. “Stop that,” his face fits perfectly in her small hands, reverent touches that make him exhale a rough breath. “You are the strongest, bravest person I’ve ever met. You will drive me to an early death with stress, but!” She interrupts him as he is about to protest, overt displays of emotion rare and difficult to articulate for her. “I wouldn’t change it for anything else. You are loved. You are you. And you will see your own, infinite worth one day. How was it? Cross my heart and hope to—uhmp!.”

His body moves before his mind fully processes her words. No one has ever had a kind word for him, and here this impossible creature stands, worshipping him, a corpse, a whore, and she must know how he will not have her mention her death, not even in jest, because it won’t happen, he won’t let it and he’s kissing her, hard, and he won’t lose her now she finally found him—

He falls in the bathtub, entangled with his lover and laughing like a madman. “Astarion! Ouh, what are you doing?! Your clothes!”

“I honestly couldn’t care less, darling,” he croaks. Astarion is soaked in disgusting water, his camp clothes are ruined, Zélie’s already messy hair is a sopping mess and the oils he poured in the tub are not enough to disguise the sewer smell. He’s so, so, so utterly content. He commits all the minute details of it to memory. The more he knows her, the more he loves her, the more she chases his nightmares away; one day, his reveries will consist entirely of her. Them. 

“All right, all right, you mad elf, let me at least change the water before we both die of some horrid infection,” Zélie concedes in half-mock exasperation. He grins like a child, toothy, fangs on display. Ridiculous, but he doesn’t care. “Vampire, darling. Infections are a thing of the past.” 

She looks at him still sitting in the receding water as if he were the most precious thing she ever saw. “Good for you. Alas,” she pulls at her round ears. “Human. Let’s not test my luck, mhm?” He giggles like a fool while pouring oils in the freshly drawn bath. 

His darling woman shifts closer, warm and intoxicating. “May I?” She points at his clothes. Astarion’s lips part in pleased surprise. She wouldn’t touch him at all if she could help the first few tendays, and even after things changed between them she’s still been hesitant. It annoys him and endears him to no end. “You can keep them on if you prefer, of course.” 

“No, love. I’d much rather you freed me of these yourself,” he whispers, leaning into her before settling back in an alluring pose that worked oh-so-well with his targets. She just rolls her eyes, but the tinge of pink dust on her cheeks is back in full-force when she starts undoing his shirt’s buttons. 

Impossible woman, do you not know what you do to me?

Slowly, one by one, the buttons are freed, her fingers leaving scorching little touches on his skin. He wants to burn for her. Shirt discarded on the floor, she unlaces breeches that have gone uncomfortably tight at this point, and Astarion lets out a relieved moan once his erection is freed. He pays it no mind; she’s looking at him, all of him, and she’s made him come accidentally with less before, but she is exhausted and bruised, and unlike those useless companions they have, he wants her to fucking rest. To make himself useful without expecting anything in return.

(She gave him everything already.)

“Come here, oh!” Zélie starts to speak, but Astarion takes her by the waist so her back is against his chest and she’s is his arms. He is sure she can feel how hard he is and he knows what it does to her, ears red from an adorable mixture of embarrassment and desire. It doesn’t matter, because the second he starts massaging her scalp with oils, she melts into him so perfectly they must have been the same being once, when life was new. There was no other explanation to the certainty of belonging in his chest. “You know, I may get used to this,” she murmurs as she twists her face up to stare at him. 

I hope you do, is what he thinks.

He wouldn’t mind doing this for the rest of time. “Ugh, we’ll see if the cuddly mood strikes me again, darling,” is what he says. He’s never felt safer than when she’s with him, but true vulnerability will take time to build. And patience. She has enough of the latter, and he will take care of the former. He takes her chin in his hand, brushing his thumb against her wet cheekbone. “It’s nice to see it’s really you, my dear, under all that filth.” The pale elf is almost done cleaning his lover and is thinking of a way to keep her there with him (She is always so awfully practical, even baths follow a military regimen.), when she turns to face him, straddling his legs.

Unpleasant memories shadow his mind for a moment, before she lifts his chin with her index finger, forcing him to look at her. Astarion realises she is keeping away from his sensitive areas, sitting towards his knees, soap in hand. “My turn, if I may?” Oh. She wants to help him bathe, too. He is still not used to Zélie asking for permission to a spawn as thoroughly used as him, but he lets his face fall into the crook of her neck to hide the blush on his cheeks (He can’t hide how much harder her consideration makes him.) “All yours, love,” he mumbles, meaning it. It’s her fingers in his curls now, tugging gently to undo stubborn knots, and he has to remind himself that this is real, she is real, not a figment of a slave-addled mind. He gasps softly and swells when his hero takes the tip of his ears between her index and thumb, down to his earlobes before stopping at his neck.

“Love, ask if you can touch me again and I swear I’ll go insane,” Astarion pants in her neck. “I want you to touch me.” 

Only you. 

Zélie huffs, “Message received.” She places her palms on his neck, his back, and the world spins when she massages the wretched bite mark and cuts that mar it. Astarion tenses, he can’t help it, but if anyone can give new meaning to those scars, it is his little saviour. He inhales her scent to relax, the crispness of her skin and the sweetness of her blood peeking through the layers of soap and oils. He adores her natural smell, more so than her blood, delectable as it is. His sanguine taste is a collateral of his unwanted condition, something he had no say nor choice in. Her scent, he is sure, he would have loved as a mortal elf–it’s fresh, subtle, sensible. It’s her, and he smiles widely when he detects a note of rosemary and bergamot in it, just as he delights in smelling her on his own skin. All his. All hers. A claim, as obvious as the fang marks on her neck.  

He must have left one too many kisses on the healed wound, because Zélie puts her lips to his ear, “If you’re hungry, you can eat.” Astarion is always hungry, another shackle that will come back full force once the tadpoles are removed, but he is starving for her. Zélie hates being bitten (Silly woman, terrified of needles and in love with a vampire.) It makes her blood even more of a gift. 

“Really, darling? Here?” he asks to distract her, and bites her. “Ouch! You annoying elf!” She whisper-shouts while he traces wide circles in her back to help her relax. Astarion decides that if this is the only heaven he’ll ever know, the gods can rot for all he cares. He has all he wants.

When he is done, he licks every single drop of blood and rinses the wound with clean water. “There. All better.” Zélie is still in his lap, and she bumps her nose against his lightly, affectionately. The bath is cooling now. “Thank you, Zelie.” 

She raises her eyebrows in question. “Oh? What have I done now to deserve you saying my name?” That’s it. Astarion will have her until all she knows and feels is him. He dives on his precious woman again, giggling into her lips, when a loud crash and grunt comes from the entrance of the room and Zelie breaks the kiss in alarm. 

Astarion curses himself for having left his daggers in his pack, using his undead reflexes to stand in front of Zelie, fangs bared. Useless idiot. If it’s Orin, or one of her followers, there won’t be much he can do besides giving his love time to escape (As if she’d ever let him face any danger on his own, mad woman.) “Astarion, wait! It’s just Lae’zel.” 

“I require washing. I’ll be merciful and give you two seconds to vacate the tub. Do not try me!” 

If Lae’zel were not as useful in battle, Astarion would slit her throat, because how dare she interrupt— 

He startles when a clean, blue shirt drapes over his shoulders; Zélie stands next to him, already dried and half dressed (How did she manage that?!). The perfume on the garment tells him it’s one of her camp shirts. He wouldn’t admit it, not yet, but he rests infinitely better when wearing something of hers. It fits him fine—pillaging fallen enemies doesn’t allow the luxury of picking the correct size for their clothes.

“Make yourself scarce for a while, Gith!” He shouts as he gets dressed, and narrowly avoids a flower pot aimed for his head. Astarion is wondering yet again what Gith blood tastes like when Zélie firmly cradles his face, utters a “Behave,” and kisses him as if air were optional for her too. 

Fine. He’ll behave this once. 

Lae’zel’s presence fades away as all he can perceive is his hero clutching him like he’ll disappear. As if it were that easy to get rid of him. 

He clings to her red blouse—one of his, he thinks with pride—and when she breaks the kiss to breathe he hoists her up, her legs tangling around his slender waist instinctively. His nose tickles as her mad curls, free from their braids, are all over his face. 

Gods, she’s beautiful. 

“That’s it! Out!” Lae’zel bellows while pointing her sword at them, mud crusted all over the blade. “The puny vampire has thwarted you, Zélie. I expected better from you. Now, leave!”

Oh for hells' sa—

“So sorry, Lae’zel, we’re out! Have a nice bath.” Zélie is still perched on him as he pads to her bed. They have been sleeping separately since getting to Elfsong. He hates it; would she see him as overbearing if he asked—

“Sleep together?” Her little smile is so sincere and uncharacteristic that he drops her on the mattress, immediately laying on top of her.

Yes.

“Why, darling, do you miss me?” he grins. Say yes, please. 

“Of course. You’re too far now. I can’t fall asleep to your soft, sweet snores anymore.”

Something in his chest unravels, even as he threatens her to make her pay for this insult to his beautiful self. 

“Astarion?” 

“Mhm?”

“Bring your blanket, if you want.” 

If he had met her when he was still mortal, if he had been a better person back then  (More deserving), he would have mocked her righteousness and then married her in an instant. He knows. The hero of his dreams, packed in an impossible, stubborn, overly-honourable woman. Astarion would have still outlived her, but he would have had the certainty he would go find her, in the afterlife. He had a habit of taking the road less travelled, after all. 

Now, soulless, beaten husk of a thing that he is, he vows to hold on to her until all time ends and stars fade. Even after he will be no more, when new worlds are born, the memory of them will remain.

#astarion x oc #bg3 astarion #astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x f!tav #oc: zelie #bg3 oc #astarion ancunin #astarion angst #astarion fluff #bathtime #thank you lae'zel for being a cockblock

[steddieficrecs]

Hey! I’m looking for fics where Eddie gets introduced into the story of ST in season 1 (or 2 or 3.. just before 4!) I’ve just gotten caught up with “better by you, better than me” by palmviolet on ao3 and I’m loooving the concept. Thanks!!

Hey, so these kind of fics are my absolute jam and I can’t stop reading them so... here’s a shit ton

hot (sticky, sweet) by ToEdenandBackAgain

"You're abusing company policy,” Steve corrects and Eddie nods, unashamed, and leans forward.

“Fuck The Man, Harrington. Gimme a taste.”

Or: it's the hottest day of the summer so far, and Eddie just wants his due of free samples. Annoying the shit out of Steve Harrington is just a cherry on top.

The Man That I Could Be by ohstars

"Steve Harrington isn't straight. It's been a few weeks since he sat on that bathroom floor at Starcourt with Robin, where she shared her biggest secret with him and unintentionally unlocked an entirely new side of Steve. Since he’s had to come to terms with being open to exploring that side of him, but he's finally acknowledged that he's most likely, definitely, without a doubt into guys."

--

After coming to terms that he may be queer, Steve Harrington does a little exploration on his own and meets the one and only Eddie Munson. Just as things are going well and accepted the fact he's falling for Eddie in their own little bubble, Steve's world is shaken by a tragedy he can't quite talk about. And when the dust settles and he's nearly ready to put the pieces back together, his worlds collide when he realizes his Eddie is the same Eddie playing D&D with the kids. The same Eddie who's now wanted for murder thanks to another upside down monster. How will he save the day when he can barely focus watching his ex mingle with his monster fighting team?

STRIKE TEN. by oaseas

Steve’s striking out. It’s the summer after his graduation, he’s working 9-5 at Scoops Ahoy, and hey, did you hear? He’s striking out. Enter Robin, her ‘you rule/you suck’ board, and a promise to romance the next girl through the door. Except, that’s no girl. That’s Eddie Munson.

Or: One double scoop of pining, please!

“See ya later... sailor!” by JustAPileOfCringe

Eddie wanders the mall and decides he wants Ice Cream. What he didn’t expect to find was former King Steve, all dressed up in a sailor costume with too short shorts slinging ice cream like he was born for it. Huh, weird.

No One Rides For Free by Weird_Witchcraft

“Are you okay Harrington?” Eddie asks gently, “Need me to get anyone?”

“No one to get” replies Steve, so soft Eddie barely catches it. “You think I want anyone seeing me like this?”

Eddie Munson stumbles across Steve Harrington crying next to a bush at Tina's party and makes it his mission to cheer him up.

when they call your name by librarybooks

Jesus. He observes him with abject fascination, like the former king of Hawkins High is a particularly grisly car crash and Eddie is the rubbernecker of the century. Christ.

Or: contrary to Robin’s data, not all summertime mall rats are immune to Steve Harrington. Eddie Munson certainly isn’t.

destiny has brought us oh so close together by deadratz

The first time Eddie finds him, Steve is crying in the school bathroom after his breakup with Nancy. They're not friends, they don't plan to become friends.

Somewhere along the way they become a lot more.

***

Takes place 1984-1986

#steddie #steddie asks #steddie fic recs