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#they must have slept somewhere
piplupod · 7 months
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i am going to be soooo fucked for this therapy appt _(:_」∠)_
#going to just play sudoku i guess. fuck me fuck this fuck sleep#doesnt help that im also an insomniac dhdjdmsl so. weh.#I've ran through five whole scenes for my story writing and usually i only get thru one at most before sleep hits#the issue is every time I think mother is done moving around upstairs she starts up again#and then i get upset and then my heart starts pounding and then i Definitely cannot sleep#and then by the time i settle down and am just abt to drift off she starts moving around again and it repeats over and over and over#i feel so ill dnfkdl i wish i was sick rn too so that I'd be allowed to be outwardly miserable and she might care that she's keeping me up#but alas dndksl i havent caught whatever it is that both parents have had now (not covid apparently) so i just have to keep being nicey nice#i hate this so much djfkdl she is sick and that sucks so bad and she is miserable and thats awful but also. i would like to sleep.#but i should not be upset bc she is suffering and if i wanted to sleep so bad i just Would i guess. i must not need sleep if i cant sleep#like if i rly needed it I'd probably be able to sleep through any amount of noise ? idk#hello 3am my most despised frenemy. i love you for being a good number but i hate seeing you bc it means im Awake#if i cry in my therapy appt maybe something good will happen !! maybe i will be taken away and put somewhere safe where i can sleep#eeuggfhhhh. weh. whiny whiny sorry fjfkdl i will go play sudoku and pretend that I've already slept several hours and the day will come#pippen needs 2nd breakfast
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So, the original Doctor Strange, from earth 61, was Pansexual. Knowing this, i have to ask, how do you feel about Wade Wilson?
"ORIGINAL"????
Wade is insane. But he has a good heart.
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oceantornadoo · 15 days
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sleepy morning (simon riley x f!reader)
part 4 of the two lieutenants series...HORNINESS LEVEL 1000
tw: wet and messyyyyyyyyy MDNI
--
that had to have been the best sleep of your life.
no seriously. extra strength melatonin could not compare to sleeping with simon THEE “ghost” riley. you had never had such a broad, thick man on top of you. and you liked it.
now, however, you found yourself in a much more compromising position.
the sleep had started innocent enough, you both insisting it was a platonic arrangement, a cheap version of getting a weighted blanket. but you had shuffled in your sleep, and now your bodies were tangled. simon's head lay on your collabone, his mouth hovering over your clothed breast, emitting small sighs in his sleep. your nipples were aching at the prolonged stimulation, his breath changing the temperature and making them harden. his hands grasped you beneath your arms, thumbs brushing the sides of your tits. you didn't think it was on purpose, but you had been on the edge for hours.
simon nuzzled closer into you, feigning sleep as long as possible. his left thigh wedged between your legs, his right bracketing the outside of yours to keep you right there. his morning wood, clothed by his thin sweats, laid heavy against your thigh. he could almost smell the wetness between your thighs, the way you tried humping him when you were asleep. little, uncontrolled movements of your hips, up and down, chasing friction. he tried to stop his teeth from sinking into your clothed tit, the softness of it so tempting. you were right there, almost his, yet so far it felt like foreign territory. somewhere he's been plenty of times, unwelcome. he had to tread carefully. then of course, soap had the gall to knock.
"l.t.? yer on recruit training, started a couple minutes ago." simon groaned against you, providing even more friction to your tit. guess he couldn't pretend to be asleep anymore. "'m sick. cancel it." a pause, soap was unbelieving. when simon was sick, if anything, he coached the recruits with even more vengeance than usual. "yer sure?" simon propped himself up on his forearms, squishing you in between them even more. you looked up at him, a dream with your tired eyes and a bit of drool at the corner of your mouth. he laid a small kiss to your forehead, so small you must still be dreaming. "cancel it. 'm bedridden today." his gravelly morning voice must have been enough for soap, who he could virtually hear straightening up after leaning against simon's doorframe. "got it, l.t."
simon breathed a sigh of relief. finally, finally, he acknowledged you. "mornin' dovie. sleep well?" sleep well?! you had slept like the dead. "best sleep of my life, simon. might have to make this a regular thing." you joked, still unsure of the lines that had been erased last night. and that forehead kiss. "available whenever ya need, love." you were still tangled together, his cock still against your cunt. you bucked against him again involuntarily, the whisper of friction too light for you. you both looked down together at where you were almost touching, separated by two layers of fabric. "simon i-"
another loud knock. "what." simon gritted out. "seen the better lieutenant, ghost? we're supposed to run drills today an' i can't find her." it was gaz and you could practically hear the smirk in his voice. simon looked down at you questioningly and you shook your head vehemently. "she's sick. contagious." gaz was choking back a laugh. he must have talked to soap before this. "alrigh', i'll tell price. get better, you two." fuck.
"shit, si, i'm sorry. should have slept at my own place i-" another forehead kiss this time, a bit longer than the first. he trailed his mouth to your nose, small pecks here and there. turning his head down, he nosed your jaw, inhaling the smell of your mixed scents. like you were two of the same. one.
"can i?" you were so far gone it took a bit for his question to register. you had tilted your head back to give him more access, a willing prey to your domestic predator. "can- can you what?" he moved down a bit more, cock moving away from your cunt. you unwillingly let out a whine at the loss of contact and he chuckled into your skin. "suck your tits, baby." oh. oh.
"yes, yes. please"
he laughed again, the sensation vibrating through your skin. his mouth finally made contact with your tit, mouthing at it over your t-shirt. thankfully, it was thin, so you can feel the slight suck and the ghost of a bite. he alternated between your breasts, hands rolling the other nipple he wasn't sucking. your shirt was wet, sticking to your skin, drenched in saliva. "simon, can you- please." the last part was a moan as he gave you a bigger bite. "use your words, lieutenant." he was rutting into the bed, cock chasing much needed friction. he didn't want to scare you but his need for you was bubbling over, a pot on the stove too long. "my shirt, ah, my shirt off."
he freed you from your shirt, the fabric drenched in his saliva, sticking to your skin as he peeled it off. your tits were wet and slightly bruised from his minstrations. marked.
"you like my marks on you?" you looked down, not caring about the unsexy double chin as you took in what he had done to you. keeping it platonic was done and dead, and you were going to take advantage of it.
"more."
a willing soldier, he dove back in, licking and sucking like he had been made for it. his right hand went lower, palm pressing against your wet pussy for some much-needed attention to your clit. you had never come from nipple stimulation alone, but you had been edged for hours while you were sleeping. the pressure on your clit was perfect, the wetness seeping through your sleep shirts onto his callused hand. he let go of your nipple with a loud smack, a string of saliva dripping from his chin. "think you can come like this, dove?" you nodded furiously, his desperate little dove. simon went back down to your abandoned tits and you gasped at the feeling of his bite. he pressed his palm harder against your aching cunt, virtually feeling the flutter of your wanting pussy, pleading for him. he rubbed it in circles, up and down, listening to your sounds to find a pattern you liked.
and suddenly he had it, your back arching as you felt that telltale spark at the base of your spine. simon felt it, your desperation increasing tremendously as you bucked into his hand, thrusting out your tits like a bitch in heat. "right there, baby. come fer' me, hm?" you nodded as he gave your tit one last long suck and pressed his palm right where you needed it, your orgasm hitting you like a freight train. he lightly tongued your breasts as you came down, cleaning up his mess. "feel better?" you groaned, the reality of how desperate you had acted finally hitting you.
"they all know, simon. the whole base knows by now." he moved up until you two were face to face. so what if the whole base knew? you had been his since that first handshake.
"so what?"
--
guys this was so horny wowwwwwwwww ovulation hitting me fr
part one part two part three part four
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assassinsblade · 4 months
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Heavy Weather
In which yours and Azriel’s mission is disrupted by a major inconvenience: your cycle.
WC: 4.1k
Warnings: Nothing really, just fluff and period stuff!
—————-
Gods, it was cold.
The snow fell down in sheets, covering the forest floor and soaking into your leathers. Azriel was trekking about twenty feet in front of you, eyes scouring the area, although his grip was loose around Truth Teller at his side.
“The Winter Court…” you grouched, mimicking your high lord. “Why couldn’t it have been Day Court. Or Autumn.”
Azriel chuckled. “You wanna spend time with Helion and Eris? I’m not sure how I feel about that.”
The air in front of you steamed as you let out an exhausted breath. You both had been pushing through this snow for hours. You couldn’t even remember what you were looking for at this point. You had only been there for about ten hours, and a little into the cold wilderness, you found your brain becoming foggy and your body fatigued. You really needed a blanket and sleep.
“Helion would never let me freeze. He likes body heat too much. And Eris has fire powers.”
“Something tells me Eris wouldn’t be too keen on helping.”
You shrugged, lifting your foot to step over a snow-covered log. “He’s always been fine to me.”
A muscle in Azriel's jaw jumped, his wings going tight against his back. You could barely make out the pink coloring of his mouth through the snowfall. “I don’t trust him,” he said. “Not after Mor, and not with you.”
“So dramatic.” You attempted to ease the tension in the air at your mention of the soon-to-be High Lord of the Autumn Court.
“I’m dramatic? You live in the Night Court and suddenly you act like snow is going to kill you.”
You did feel like it was going to kill you. You didn’t know what had you so exhausted, why the snow seemed to be soaking through your clothes and seeping its way straight into your bones. You had slept okay last night, hadn’t you? You were wearing weather-appropriate clothing. You had done enough training and exercise that this hike shouldn’t be wearing you down this much.
You hadn’t realized that Azriel had turned around to look at you, stopping in his tracks as he waited for you to catch up.
“Are you actually okay?” His voice was more serious this time, less teasing.
Giving him a nod, you focused on putting one foot in front of the other. “Yeah. Let’s just make shelter somewhere soon. I really am cold.”
He nodded, but he didn’t look convinced. You didn’t blame him, you must have looked pathetic. Your teeth were chattering so loud the same spies you came to the Winter Court to track would no doubt be able to hear you if close. Your body felt like you had weights pulling you down under the earth, with each step comparable to trudging through quicksand. And you just felt off - like you could pass out or throw up at any moment.
Azriel waited until you were by his side once again before continuing to move.
“There’s an abandoned cabin not too far from here. We’ll camp there for the night, get you some rest. Maybe a blanket or two.”
The wind burnt your cheeks as you tilted you head to look at him. He seemed completely unaffected. In fact, it was as if he was taking a stroll through the Summer Court, right along the water, basking in the breeze.
“How are you not freezing?”
His lips quirked up at your angry tone. “Believe it or not, Sunshine, I grew up in the snowy Illyrian mountains.”
You nodded, only half-hearing his response. And then your feet were stumbling over one another, and Azriel had to reach out quickly to prevent you from falling.
“Not too far now,” he reassured. But he kept his hand on your leathers the rest of the way to the cabin, monitoring your movements and ensuring you wouldn’t just topple over. Every so often, you felt him look over at you, as if he didn’t trust his hand and wanted to make sure you hadn’t fallen behind again.
It felt like hours before the rickety structure came into view, and by that point, you truly knew something was wrong with you. Had you been poisoned at some point during the trip? Were you sick? You didn’t think you’d ever been sick in your entire life as fae.
Once you were at the landing of the cabin, you realized Azriel had been supporting your weight much more than you had intended or thought. His entire forearm was supporting your back now, pushing you forward until you crossed the threshold into the enclosed space.
You heard the door shut tightly behind you, sucking the sound of the wind out with it. In the silence, you nearly collapsed.
There wasn’t much time to take in your surroundings. You briefly saw a couch, a kitchen area, and a fireplace. There was probably a bathroom down the hall, maybe a bed if you were lucky. Your thoughts didn’t go past that though as you stumbled for the sofa.
Azriel watched as you fell into it, your head tipping back and eyes scrunching closed. You tried to school your features into something less uncomfortable, but you doubted it was convincing.
“I’ll get a fire going.”
You heard his footsteps move toward the fireplace, the scuffling of movements as wood was moved from the keep to the hearth. However, despite his action to get the cabin warm for you, you could still feel his eyes drifting toward the couch intermittently.
Wood began cracking, a light forming in the corner of your vision. Still cold, still weak, you tried to breathe steadily.
You were about to say something to distract Azriel from your odd behavior when you felt fabric being laid over your body. Your hands automatically went to grip the blanket, pulling it up to your chin weakly before peeking your eyes open.
Azriel was already moving away from the couch, but he didn’t leave the room before muttering a quiet, “Get some sleep.”
Sleep, unfortunately, did not come easy to you. You alternated between feeling like you were going to vomit and feeling like you were being stabbed. Your muscles ached, and it seemed to take all of your energy to rise your chest in a breath.
You tried to focus on the fire, on the way sparks flew from the wood, briefly illuminating the dark stone. The warmth of the flames was drifting toward the couch now, and you tried to adjust your body to move closer to it.
In your movement, though, you noticed the way your damp clothes felt different against your skin. The snow had soaked into the fabric, but the feeling you recognized in your core at your movement toward the fireplace had you nearly whimpering.
Azriel was there before you could make it fully off the couch, reaching his hands out to catch you from falling.
“What are you doing?”
“I- I need to-“
“-Lay down,” he interrupted. “Rest.”
You tried to breathe through the pain. Your vision was becoming blurry with each stab through your abdomen, and you honestly did not understand how you missed your symptoms earlier.
“I can’t, Azriel… I need-“
“-I know.” He gently guided you back onto the couch, hands pulling the blanket over you once again. “I know. Just breathe. I’ll be right back.”
Did he know? Could he sense it now? Could he smell the blood? Recognize the symptoms too?
There wasn't time to be embarrassed because he was gone again quickly, and you couldn’t help the tears that escaped at the pain running through your body.
When you had first met Feyre and she had told you the difference between fae and human cycles, you had nearly cursed the Mother for torturing your kind. You had been literally stabbed before, beaten, and burned, and nothing compared to the pain of your cycle.
“Here,” Azriel said, reappearing before you. He laid some sort of steaming broth he must have found in a cupboard on the table in front of you, along with some torn pieces of cloth, presumably from a towel found in the rest of the house.
You looked at the items, tears blurring your eyes again. You felt like you couldn’t move, everything ached, everything hurt, everything felt wrong-
“I need help,” you got out through your tears, your voice sounding weak even to yourself.
“Okay.” Azriel nodded. “That’s okay.”
He gripped under your legs and behind your back, pulling you up until you were on the edge of the couch. "I have changes of clothes for us in my bag. Do you want me to help you to the bathroom?”
You nodded, too embarrassed to look at him. Azriel didn’t say a word though, instead grabbing a few of the pieces of cloth, his bag off the ground, and scooped you up into his arms.
He walked you both to the bathroom, and you kept your face buried close to his chest both so you wouldn’t have to see if you got anything on the couch and so that Azriel wouldn’t see the redness in your cheeks.
When he entered the bathroom, he set you onto the counter before setting the supplies down. From his bag, he pulled out the extra pair of underwear, pants, bra, and shirt you had packed for yourself.
“Do you want to wash off?” He asked genuinely, glimpsing over his shoulder at the antique bathtub.
Did you want to be clean? Absolutely. But your entire body felt like it was going to fall through the floor, weighed down with aches, pain, and exhaustion. You weren’t even sure you could get your arms to move enough to scrub yourself clean.
You whimpered at your inability to do what you needed, at how weak you felt, and the frustration that coursed through your veins.
"Hey, it's okay." Azriel brought his hands up to cup your cheeks, bringing your eyes to meet his own. "What do you need? What can I do?"
You just shook your head, face flushing red. "I can't ask you to help me with this."
Because this was embarrassing and some males thought it was weak and gross and something to be kept taboo. You were quite literally bleeding through your leathers, with your abdomen, back, and legs all twisting and cramping in pain, heat scouring your body, and you felt like a little kid again -- needing to be taken care of, unable to do the basic task of looking after yourself. It was humiliating, but especially in front of Azriel of all people. Someone so composed, so strong.
It wasn't as if your friends didn't know about your cycle or what you female fae went through. On the contrary, they always offered to help where they could. If you missed out on training because of your cycle, Cassian would always bring up some tonics or some extra food and water to make sure you were okay. A few cycles that were particularly bad had Rhys sending after Madja, and Azriel rushing when he heard. He was the one who had advocated for Madja to give you some sleeping tonics to help you sleep through the pain instead of withstanding it.
But here? On a mission? This was too much.
"Why not?" Azriel's question brought you back to the present. He looked genuinely confused, his brows furrowing slightly.
"Azriel..." you pleaded with his questioning, arms wrapping around your stomach as pain hit you again. You swayed slightly on the counter, Azriel's hands dropping from your face to your waist to steady you.
"You're in pain." His voice was serious, and you wanted to hide your face in his chest. "Let me help you. I don't like seeing you like this."
You swallowed, trying to reign in your shame and embarrassment. It wasn't a big deal, you told yourself. This was natural. And Azriel is over five hundred years old, surely he's seen and dealt with cycles and all they entail before. It doesn't have to make a difference being yours.
"Okay," you whispered. "Could you- could you uh, help me wash off? I don't think I can..."
He didn't make you finish your sentence once he realized you didn't know how to explain your own weakness at the moment. He just nodded, bringing his hands to your arms and rubbing up and down comfortingly.
"Of course."
You nodded, more-so reassuring yourself that this was okay. He was okay. Right? He'd say if he was uncomfortable?
Azriel turned and twisted the faucet to the bathtub, fingers resting under the water that came out until he found the temperature pleasing. The water was clear, thankfully, and the tub looked clean as well.
Once that was filling, he turned to the cabinets you were seated on, bending down and looking through them for any kind of soap and towels. Finding the supplies he was looking for, he set them by the edge of the tub and turned to where you were sitting.
"Arms up?"
His question was hesitant, asking more than if you needed help. Did you want to completely undress? Were you comfortable with him seeing you like this?
You lifted your arms, the weight of your limbs feeling heavy. You wanted to throw up, to go to sleep, to cry.
Azriel's gentle hands moved the fabric up your torso, keeping his touch to the clothing only. Once it was free from your form, you nodded at him to keep going.
He grasped your hips and lifted you to stand, holding onto the majority of your weight when you seemed unstable. His hands gripped your own and brought them to his own torso.
"Hold onto me."
And you did, allowing yourself to lean into his strong form as he unbuttoned your snow-soaked pants and began to pull them down. You rested your head on his chest, turning your face into him to hide your embarrassment at the blood that no doubt coated your pants and your middle.
Tears pricked your eyes at how vulnerable this all was, but you blinked them away as Azriel backed up, your bare form now before him.
His casual look over you wasn't one of lust or desire but of care and concern. He was looking for injuries, hypothermia, anything that would need immediate attention before the bath. When he was satisfied, his gentle touch led you to the edge of the tub, grasping your forearm and helping you ease into the water.
You sank low into the heat, releasing a breath you hadn't known you had been holding from your cramps.
Azriel seemed to notice how you had been holding your breath too. He brought a hand up to push some of the sweat-slicked hair back from your forehead. "Make sure you're breathing, sweetheart."
You nod, closing your eyes and trying to relax through the stabbing in your back.
You could hear the soap bottle cap opening, the sound of liquid meeting a hand, and scrubbing. Peeking an eye open, you see Azriel getting his hands wet and reaching for one of your arms.
"Is this okay?" He asked.
Your heart thumped in your chest. He was too good for you. Better than any male you had ever met.
"Yes. Thank you." Your voice was small, weak in your state, but you both could hear the emotion in it.
"You don't have to thank me," Azriel responded, his hands moving up and down your arm softly before reaching for the other. "I'm sorry you have to go through this."
Humming in response, you sat up so he could help get your back. He was mindful of your comfort, sweeping over any vulnerable or inappropriate places lightly to ensure you were clean but never lingering.
While he washed, he told you stories of Rhys' sister. How when they were younger and she had gotten her first cycle, Rhys hadn't known what to do. None of them had. They thought she was dying, and Rhys' mother had to corral them together into the living room to get them to calm down and stop their panicking. He laughed at the story, and you couldn't help the relaxed giggles of your own.
"I can't imagine the stoic shadowsinger panicking over a girl's cycle."
His lips curved into a soft smile, eyes bright with adoration. "What do you think I'm doing now?"
You looked up at him, smiling. You couldn't believe how comfortable you felt, how normal this all felt. You were completely naked in front of him, completely bare to his touch while he sat clothed next to you, but it felt safe.
"You don't seem too panicked," you tried to tease.
He scoffed. "You should have seen me in the kitchen when we first got here. I was borderline scrambling."
You laughed, and he led you to a sitting position, stroking your back with his fingers lightly. "You ready to get out?"
At your confirmation, he scooped you up into his arms, no doubt getting water everywhere on the floor and also all over his own clothes. You squeaked in protest, but he didn't seem to care, only setting you back onto your feet and wrapping you up tightly in a towel.
Teeth chattering at the newfound cold outside of the bath, you gripped the towel around you, staring up into the bright hazel eyes of the male in front of you. He was still holding you tightly, eyes surveying your form. You wondered what he was thinking in this moment, but you wanted nothing more than to lean forward and let him keep holding you.
His hands moved with the towel, rubbing your arms before bringing the fabric down to your legs.
Right. You needed to get dressed.
"Here we go." Azriel grabbed your spare change of clothes, starting with your underwear. He took some of the makeshift pads he had created, placing one in the underwear before leaning down.
He looked up at you from his knees, and you wanted to frame the image. The sight of this angel, his dark hair messy from the snow, hazel eyes shining with care, on his knees for you, hands open to help take care of you. You wanted to jump on him, kiss him, and never let him stop touching you.
But this was Azriel, and he had never given you any inclination that was something he wanted.
You stepped into the fabric, allowing the shadowsinger to pull it up your legs. Once those were on, he bundled you up in your new shirt before holding the pants in front of you.
"Did you want to wait until we leave for these? They are leathers. I don't want you to be more uncomfortable just for the sake of feeling like you have to wear them."
"I'd rather not."
He nodded, setting them aside before wrapping an arm around your waist and guiding you back to the couch.
You were feeling a little better now that you were clean and not bleeding down your legs, but you still felt drowsy and like someone was hacking your insides apart. On your way back, your knees nearly gave way with the pain of a particular cramp, and you couldn't help the cry that escaped with it.
Azriel caught you swiftly, hiking you back up into his arms.
When he laid you back onto the couch, now covered in blankets with even more on top of you, you looked up at the exhausted male. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be," he said. He sounded genuine, but you couldn't help but feel guilty.
You gritted your teeth through the pain, gripping your abdomen tightly. "I ruined this mission."
"Nothing has been ruined."
He walked over to the fireplace once you were settled, stoking the logs to get the fire rising again. "Well," he continued. "Except your pants."
You couldn't help but laugh, and the shadowsinger actually cracked a smile at the sound. But then you were grimacing, tears coming to your eyes and your breath hitching in your throat at your body's attack on itself.
Azriel frowned, hands twitching at his sides.
"We'll get ahold of Rhys," he reassured. "Get you to Madja."
You tried to breathe through it, knuckles white from gripping the blankets around you. You could hear his footsteps getting closer, feel his heat as he kneeled down next to the couch beside you, feel his strong hands unravel your fingers from the blanket and grip them in his own.
His other hand came up and slowly stroked your hair back, gently weaving his fingers through the strands. Your eyes fluttered shut at the gentle touch, despite how tightly you squeezed his hand.
"I'm okay," you tried to convince him. "It's just a cycle."
You weren't sure why you were trying to downplay your pain so much. Were you trying to come across stronger than you were? To impress him? Did you think he would truly find you weak?
"I've seen fae be out for a full week because of a cycle. Not eating or drinking, just trying to make it through... You don't have to be okay."
And it was as if you needed his permission, because as soon as the words left his mouth, you tilted your head back, eyebrows scrunching in pain, and let the truth flow past your own lips.
"Yeah, it fucking hurts."
He laughed, but the sound was sympathetic. Bringing your hand up to his lips, he placed a gentle kiss there, and you nearly shot up at the action. You tried not to think too much into it but his lips on your skin was something you couldn't just ignore.
"Is there anything else I can do?"
His voice was soft, gentle, reverent. And he was looking at you like he would do anything you asked. Like you could tell him to go sit in the snow for an hour while you basked in the heat, and he would stand up diligently before marching his way into the blizzard.
He looked at you expectantly, and your heart swelled. One day you would tell him. Tell him how you loved him, how you thought that maybe there was something there between you two, something that tied your souls and hearts together.
"I'm still kind of cold," you admitted. "Could you lay with me?"
At first you thought the question was a bit of a risk, something he might not be comfortable with. But then you thought about how you were completely naked before him not even twenty minutes prior, and you felt less embarrassed to ask.
"Are you sure? There's not much room."
You nodded, and he looked down at his own snow-soaked leathers. He grunted in disapproval and discomfort, reaching down and lifting the tight clothing from his body. You nearly gasped at the action, at the toned body that now faced you. Gods, he was beautiful.
He walked away briefly, presumably to gather his other change of clothes. He might have even cleaned up a bit, because when he appeared again, he looked clean and comfortable. And then he was reaching under the blankets to adjust where you laid.
His body sunk into the cushions of the sofa, and he gathered you into his arms until you were halfway on his chest, his soft and clean shirt overwhelming your senses as you curled into him.
You hummed. "This is nice."
His arms were loose around you, but his hand was resting purposefully curled around your side, his fingers inching over onto your abdomen in a protective and comforting gesture. As if he could take your pain away with just a touch.
"Try to rest. We should be able to get back to Velaris in the morning."
You pushed away the pain radiating through your body, the disorientation and dizziness, and instead focused on the warm muscled body underneath you. The way he encased you, the way he made you feel safe and at peace despite your current state. The way he cared for you.
You would tell him soon -- how you felt.
But for now, you buried your face deeper into his chest, your body falling lax against him. For now, you would rest and savor this moment.
For now, you would pretend like he was doing this because he loved you too. And you held onto that until sleep took your pain away.
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obsessiveimpulses · 4 months
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Sleepless Nights
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summary: yuuta cant stop thinking about you
cw: masturbation, somnophilia , choking, pervert yuuta , cumplay?
an: srry if u couldn't tell by now i clearly have a thing for guys masturbating (is that even a thing .. well is now ig)
☆°•
Everyone had always wondered why Yuuta looked so tired all the time. His big puppy eyes were slightly swollen with deep purple bags resting right beneath his lower lashes.
Everyone always wondered... but you knew why. And the reason? It was much more sinister than the simple lie he gave, "Oh... my mind is always racing before bed."
It was late at night, and you were already fast asleep nestled close to Yuuta. His body just grazed yours as the summer heat lingered in the air.
The heat was no bother for Yuuta though - his thoughts were somewhere else. His lie of "too many things to think about to sleep" was sort of true. He just couldn't stop thinking about fucking you.
You laid there so beautiful to him, your mouth was ajar a little bit of drool seeped out. It made him so happy that no one else got to see this cute vulnerable side of you just him, only him. His eyes gazed down your body starting from your soft lips and followed down your neck. Marks from last night claiming your body trailed down your neck and finally ended in your collarbones.
His eyes trailed further following the curve of your back leading right down to your soft plush ass. He sighed. His view was blocked by your soft cotton panties, and his eyes glistened with hunger as he noticed the lace trimming. He imagined himself crawling over on top of you. Slowly peeling your panties down to reveal your bare butt he would massage your shiny skin with his mouth. His wet spit would remain giving you a glossy look.
Before he knew it, he was softly rutting against the mattress. Small moans poured from his lips. His teeth pierced his bottom lip as he tried to keep quiet; a metallic taste filled his mouth.
Trying to not be loud he covered his mouth with his hand. He wouldn't want to wake his princess from her slumber - no matter how much he'd desire to plow down deep into you. He would never want to corrupt you with his perversion. His ruts became rougher as he became more desperate for your touch. He imagined it was your thighs he was rutting into.
How strange it felt craving for your lust when you were right there. But he couldn't ever tell you how much of a pervert he was. How hard his cock got from just looking at your soft thighs. How much precum spilled from his cock just thinking about the way your hair framed your face as you slept. How could he have such perverted thoughts while you slept peacefully next to him?
He rutted against the bed his dark blue briefs covering his pale cock adding a layer of friction between himself and the rough mattress. His face contorted, furrowing his eyebrows in pleasure, if only you could see him now. How lewd he must look with his hand covering his mouth as he grinded himself against the soft mattress.
The thrill of getting caught rushed into his head. If only you opened your eyes now to see the lewd image beside you. How submissive he must look so desperate for you. You'd make him beg, beg for forgiveness, beg for you to fuck him.
As he grew closer to the edge, his ruts became rougher and harder, almost as though he was trying to fuck a hole into the mattress. He wanted his flesh against your flesh like a fucking animal.
The hand covering his mouth stifled his moans. Although it made it hard to breathe, he enjoyed it. The slight dizzy feeling it gave him made him feel euphoric as his orgasm drew closer. He thought to himself; perhaps he should do this to you so you could feel as good as him. He imagined his long cold fingers around your neck, watching as your face turned red in pleasure. The fabric against his cock became too much for him as the warm feeling grew into a tingle going up the spine of his cock.
His cock throbbed with the visceral overwhelming building of pressure. He wanted, no, needed to cum right now as his eyes rested upon your lips. The world dampened around him as recurring jolts of pleasure ran in and out of his cock. His moans became loud despite the muffling of his hand as he cried out for sweet release. His cock twitched as streams of white seeped out; it began staining his briefs. Beautiful whines and moans sang from his lips, only to become muffled by his hand clasping his face. He continued softly humping the bed, riding out his orgasm as his cock softened.
Slowly, he removed his hand from his mouth. Small pants escaped his mouth followed by winces due to his sensitive cock being brushed against the mattress from his movements. He reached down and scooped his cum up onto his fingers. Proudly, he inspected his cum drenched fingers before lifting them up to your mouth. He gently pushed the tips of his fingers into your mouth. Instinctively, you softly sucked his fingers. Fuck... even unconsciously you knew how to please Yuuta.
His cock hardened once again. Fuck no wonder I can't sleep, he thought.
And so with the bed shaking, the bitter taste in your mouth in the mornings, and the constant morning woods Yuuta had, how couldn't you know?
2K notes · View notes
rosie-writings · 2 months
Text
Hypnotize Me
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Summary: You and the gang investigate a hotel haunted by a demon that influences people in ways none of you experienced before, making it the final push for Colby to solidify the relationship he always wanted with you.
Warnings: Colby x Reader smut, MFM (no Solby) threesome, unprotected sex, overstimulation, love bites, squirting, messy sex
Words: 7.6k
No Y/N Used
Title is from ‘Hypnosis’ by Sleep Token
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I was so damn tired.
The backpack met the thin floor with a thud that hung in the air. My eyes were too heavy to open fully, and maybe I led us all into the most haunted room—of course the largest suite as well—in the hotel, but I really couldn't care less. 
“Oh—Wait this is actually nice,” Colby spoke first between the five of us. He brushed past me and walked into the room to our left.
”Wow it actually is,” I think Nate said as he rounded the corner. I don’t think my toes lifted off the roughened carpet as I dragged myself through the unrealistically large suite to find the bedroom. When I found it, I audibly moaned in relief.
”Holy shit! Maybe we didn’t need the second room, this bed is probably big enough to fit all of us.” Sam must have followed me with the camera but I ignored him as I face planted into the ivory linen sheets. They covered my peripherals, and my eyes rolled back in the suffocating darkness.
It was worth not checking for stains or bed bugs first.
Then there was a loud scuffle.
“Ah—! Jesus, I almost met god because of your backpack in the middle of the floor.” I huffed a breath in response; Colby must have tossed the backpack to the side of the bed but I didn’t flinch from the reverberation. Didn’t care that my laptop was in there at all.
Maybe I needed a shower; after two sleepless nights in a cold dangerous area proceeding a haunted hot as hell area, a shower and a dreamless night in the deepest cavern of this bed was first on my priority list.
Of course the boys had different plans. We were in the middle of our third video of the week. Thank god it was the last as well.
Between infiltrating an abandoned building outside of Portland to talking to whatever lurks in the woods of a small town somewhere in Texas, I was beat. Road kill, some would say, and dare I say I looked like it too. My hair was a mess and my nose was still red from the cold wind in the north but my neck was caked with old sweat from the humid heat of the faux winter in Texas. At least I could hear it in all of their voices too; this quickly became a midnight hunt rather than an afternoon hunt. If only we could get through this damn intro.
”—here she is, she's uh well—tired.” I lifted my head up slowly and looked up to see the camera and Sam’s tired eyes smiling down at me. “Don’t blame her; at least we all feel the way she looks.” 
I flipped him off before he turned the camera towards himself.
”That was mean,” he laughed. I stuffed my face back in the now damp with sweat and hot breath duvet. “But fair. We’re going to rest this afternoon and after dinner, we have a meeting with one of the most skilled demonologists we’ve ever met.”
”Yeah, I’m pretty sure we’ve met one in every country we’ve filmed in,” Colby tagged on as I heard him approach Sam.
”Pretty soon we’ll be able to say we’ve met every demonologist—“
I don’t remember what the ending of Sam’s sentence entailed. 
My eyes opened. 
The room was dark besides the ambient orange light from the lamp beside the head of the bed. The curtains were shut. What time was it?
I lifted to my elbows but drew in a breath when I felt weight fall from me. I looked to my left and noticed how Colby rolled from his side to his back; his face turned away from me. He was knocked out. Was his arm across me as we slept?
Two nights ago I woke up in the middle of the night in the same situation except two bright eyes stared back at me. Even in the dim moonlight that shined through the broken ceiling of the abandoned building, his eyes glowed bright back at me. I told myself the only reason I fell back asleep in his arms was because I shivered my skin off from the chill. I felt his body shake as well which meant it must have been cold even with the sleeping bags. I would be lying if I said I hadn’t been daydreaming about what his hands felt like on my back and what the warmth of his neck felt like on my face, my lips.
As I stretched on the bed and yawned as quietly as I could, I looked to my other side and I nearly choked myself half to death when Sam jumpscared me. He as well lay on his front with his head supported on his crossed arms. I didn’t know how I didn’t feel his side flush to mine. We slept in almost the same position. 
My face burned when I pulled my leg off of Colby’s. 
I slid backwards off the bed and popped my neck; my body ached from sleep uncomfortably. I was ready for a real sleep. Although, that nap did fare well. Nate slept on the other side of Sam and I smiled at the sight of his arm and leg wrapped around Sam’s body. 
I snapped photos of them. For blackmail. Or, at this point, pure entertainment.
I grabbed my bag and headed into the bathroom. I held my breath for some reason as I turned on the light and nothing happened. It always crossed my mind that maybe—just maybe—everything was a lie and hauntings weren’t real because of evenings like this one. We all were zonked on the bed—aside for poor Seth who coiled up on one of them sofas in the main room across from the bedroom—and not a thing happened. 
Then again I'm sure I could have time traveled during that nap and I wouldn't have known a thing. 
The warm water almost lulled me to sleep then and there, but the chilly tiles kept a pep in my step. I wished I had this room to myself. I imagined it then; kicking the boys to the floor so I could have the largest bed I had ever seen all to my clean self. 
I didn't do that. 
By the time I was finished blow drying my hair and making myself as presentable as possible for the camera while keeping my future bed time routine simple, I heard commotion in the rest of the suite. I pulled a new pair of black jeans from my bag and pulled on a thermal long sleeve and a hoodie on top of it with rushing hands. What was the plan now? 
“Yeah man, I have no idea.” I only caught the end of Colby’s gentle statement when I opened the door. His eyes found mine and I watched intently to find out what they were saying.
”Seth is still asleep,” he said.
”And Sam wants to be,” Sam spoke into Nate’s side. He held onto Nate and tried to curl into him comfortably, but Nate scooted away with every advance Sam made. I scoffed a laugh as I passed the pathetic three on the bed.
”And Nate wants to get this show on the road or else he won’t ever get up from this bed. Jesus, it’s damn comfortable.”
”It really is though,” Colby said.
”I don’t think the nap did anything for me even though it was really nice,” I admitted. Colby aimed his attention at me as I dropped my bags under the covered window on the side of the bed he sat on.
”Yeah, I’m really tired still as well.” 
“Let’s get energy drinks and some food before we miss the meeting,” Sam said as he too yawned and stretched.
”Someone wake up Seth.”
”Oh right,” Nate laughed as he got up to do just that. “Can’t forget poor sleeping Seth.”
”He looks so cold,” Sam laughed.
”Not as cold as two nights ago.”
”Don’t remind me,” he moaned. 
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“We’re here with Dr. Smith; the renowned demonologist who’s especially familiar with all of the paranormal activity that’s happened here at this hotel,” Sam spoke to the camera.
As much as dinner was amazing fuel, as soon as we got back into the lobby of the hotel and started the meeting with Dr. Smith, my eyelids were heavy again. Sure, we missed two nights of restful sleep, but how tired was too tired?
A subtle flinch on my hand yanked my attention from the interview, and my eyes met Colby’s whose eyebrows rose with question. ‘I’m good,’ I nodded. ‘Tired,’ I mouthed and he nodded heavily with his eyes closed. His eyes were darker than I had seen them, and when I looked back in Nate’s direction, I noticed the distraction in his eyes.
Were we all truly this spent? We all had taken many trips with Sam and Colby through the years, and almost every week was filled with three or four high adrenaline videos to get done. The traveling mixed with the paranormal adrenaline and the unrestful sleep promised hazy days and many many energy drinks, but this? This was different.
”Seth—“ My attention was pulled by Sam’s voice.
”Shit I’m sorr—“
”It’s fine,” Dr. Smith said. “If you all don’t know, the main issue visitors have dealt with in this hotel is fatigue.” My stomach dropped. “The souls that make pit stops here often get trapped and are weary from living in purgatory in these walls.” Somehow a burst of energy coursed my veins at this insight; at least my suspicions weren’t too outlandish.
”This makes a lot of sense,” Colby sighed. 
“We’re outrageously tired and took a three hour nap,” Sam laughed. Dr. Smith nodded.
”If it’s already affecting all of you this much, you might want to be careful when you go to the third floor then; people are known to pass out very frequently because of—well the things that live there.”
”Why—What’s on the third floor and why does it make people pass out?”
”We believe there is a demon who stays in this hotel, specifically the third floor, and it influences the spirits and human people who come. It doesn’t like to be alone, but it also doesn’t enjoy the company of people so it depletes energy quickly.”
”Almost like an omen for them to leave?” Sam questioned.
”Maybe,” Dr. Smith said as his head fell to the side with some disagreement.
”Or is it more so wanting something to do, like, does it enjoy messing with people or something?” 
“I think that’s the case,” he responded as he pointed to Colby. “It might be bored and it may want human energy to feed on and manipulate.” 
The way that Dr. Smith expressed the demon’s wants sent chills down my arms and it felt like hot air held my ears. Maybe this would be a long night, and maybe some decent activity would come of it.
Hopefully all this fatigue wasn’t for nothing.
”I’m still on edge about all of… this,” Seth said as his hands gestured to everything around us. We walked through the hotel with quiet voices and the camera filming on Sam’s side.
”Same, but what are you feeling?” Colby asked.
”I’m freaked out about how we all are equally feeling the demon’s effect already and we haven’t even tried to taunt it or anything.”
”I mean, it could just be because of our trip,” Nate spoke. The voice of reason. “We barely slept.”
”Yeah but all of us took long naps and we all feel like zombies even after the drinks.” No one argued that.
As we walked and talked and introduced the hotel to the camera, Colby made sure to keep up with my pace. I couldn’t decipher whether I imagined it or I was the one keeping up with him, but for some reason, all my attention honed in on him and his body and every motion it made. 
And when we turned the corner and Sam quickly stopped in front of me, I halted in my steps and Colby’s body collided into mine. I held my breath so I wouldn’t gasp; we all were quiet. Seth had heard something and Sam whispered to the camera.
I backed up into him tighter when his hands that held onto my waist dug in deeper. His breath skipped some and he let go of me and passed me with a raised whisper when Sam asked him something. It took me a moment. A dazed moment. My tired brain was so overwhelmed with everything that suddenly I felt intoxicated. Intoxicated by the fatigue, intoxicated by the lack of effected air conditioning, intoxicated by Colby who seemed to also be unable to stop touching me and thinking about me—
What was going on? 
I lagged behind the boys as they walked down the hallway. Colby turned to me. His eyes were dilated, face flushed, hand reached back towards me.
”Come on, don’t fall behind,” he whispered. I took his hand and didn’t say anything because I swore my heart replaced my vocal cords in my throat. 
Even as it got hotter when we ventured to the second floor and even as the sheen of sweat in between our palms became more so a dripping pool, I didn’t let go of him. And he didn’t let go of me. 
“Are you okay?” He whispered down to me. I nodded slowly.
”Yeah, just hot as fuck.”
”Are you good?” Sam’s louder voice caught my attention and I looked up. Nate spoke animatedly to Seth with a hand pointed down the hall and Sam had turned towards us. The camera was to his side.
”Yeah,” Colby answered for me. “We—It’s hot as hell and can barely stay awake.”
”I know,” Sam sighed breathlessly. Sweat too lined his face. “Dr. Smith did say that they have perpetual issues with the AC on the third floor, and even during the winter it gets this hot.”
”Couldn’t imagine the summer here,” Nate said as he spun into our conversation.
”I’m really wanting to get to the third floor to test some things out.”
”Like the Estes method?” Seth asked. Sam nodded quickly. 
We were on our way and my heart burned in my chest. I gripped Colby’s hand tighter as my head rushed with more elevation. The elevator was slow but my pace was slower, and the fatigue gnawed at my bones.
”You’re not going to pass out are you?”
”No,” I shook my head. “I mean not yet at least.”
”Don’t worry,” Sam said. “We’ll catch you.”
”Shut the hell up,” I snapped as the elevator doors opened. Nate led the way. “Of all of us, I trust you to purposely miss me.”
”Yeah that’s only because Colby would have caught you before you even started to fall—“
Seth’s spiteful jeer was cut off by a loud bang at the end of the hallway. Sam and Nate rushed forward around the corner with the camera. 
“There’s literally nothing,” I heard Sam’s whisper. I ignored the smirk on Seth’s face as he gave a look to Colby. We three turned the corner as well.
Nothing. An average looking empty hotel room shined back at us. Not even a member of housekeeping nor their supplies showed any kind of appearance. 
“We’re in a hotel for fuck’s sake,” I whisper. “It could be a damn guest.”
”True,” Nate said. We slowly walked backwards.
”Alright,” Sam started and lifted the camera. Real filming time. “The demon’s known to be most responsive in the conference room on the third floor, which is where we’re headed.”
”Yeah because for some reason this demon has a lot of business to get done,” Seth said. We all looked at him. I burst out with one singular laugh and slapped my knee.
”Good one.”
The conference room was larger than I anticipated and dark and musty. We left the lights off and turned on all our flashlights and faced them towards the ceiling to give more of an expansive ambient light. As Colby set up the rem pod, I held an emf device and Sam prepared Seth to go under on the Estes method. For as empty as this room appeared to be, it sure as hell felt full.
Tables lined the back wall while chairs were stacked near them. A few stragglers of chairs peppered the room but other than that, only two gigantic crystal chandeliers decorated the room other than the hardly touched plush carpet with intricate designs.
The heat around my face didn’t get better. Only worse. I could hardly breathe. My vision was hazy and it was as if the air suddenly had a film of white air over taking the much needed oxygen. I decided that I was just crazy and sleep deprived when none of the guys complained about it.
”If there’s a spirit in here, let us know by coming close to one of our devices,” Sam started. His voice echoed around the room. “If you would like to speak with us you can do so by touching these devices,” he pointed to the rem pod and emf. “Or you can send words into this and it will read them back to us—“
Present
My heart stopped at the shrill of the ovilus.
”Thank you so much, I’m Sam, these are my friends—“ We each said our names. “We’re just here to talk and nothing more. Can we ask you some questions?”
”The rem pod—“ Colby rushed out. We all looked at the brightness of its lights. The rem pod never seemed so bright and loud to me than at that moment.
”Yeah that’s the rem pod it’s pretty intense,” Sam said. ”How many of you are there?”
Full
”The ovilus said full—
Meeting
”Does this mean a meeting full of spirits are here?” Sam asked. The rem pod stopped.
”If you have a lot to say and would like to talk to Seth in the spirit box, then move back to that—“
The rem pod went off again and stayed on
Sam turned to us with wide eyes and I stared back at him unblinking.
”Get—Alright Seth get on the spirit box,” Colby told him.
Seth sat in the chair blindfolded and he set the headphones on his head. The moment he went under I too felt a rush of dizziness.
”Hey—“ Colby grabbed my hand. “You good?”
”The energy drink must be making me jittery or something,” I said. “I’m so damn tired like I can’t keep my eyes open but I’m faster.” He nodded with a slight grin.
”Hopefully it’s just that—“
”Sam,” Seth spoke in a monotone voice.
”Hi, yeah that’s me. Who am I talking to, what’s your name?”
”Many.”
”There’s many of you, aren’t there? Are you all trapped here?” Sam must have been referencing Dr. Smith who said that the spirits here are trapped in purgatory.
”Not likely.” Seth’s voice twisted in my chest like a knife; I didn’t know what it was but I couldn’t breathe and the tone in his voice told me something different.
”Is there a way for you all to leave?”
”There was just—just a noise I think a sigh? Or a laugh? I don’t know— Irrational.” Sam’s head cocked to the side at the obscure word the spirit box tagged on to Seth’s description of the sound.
”What’s irrational?”
”Maybe it’s saying we’re irrational to think they are trapped,” Colby told him.
”Probably. Do you like staying here?”
“Feeding.” Seth's single word alone sent chills across your arms as if it didn't push 90 degrees in the room. 
“Are you feeding on energies? I know a lot of people stay here—”
“Love it when you… I didn't catch the rest.”
“You love feeding on the energies or something?” Sam's patient tone never ceased to shock and impress me. The way he so confidently handled the discussion was something entirely beyond my capabilities. If whatever this was fed on any energy at all, it must have been mine because as my fear increased the remaining ounce of my energy decreased. 
“Dr. Smith was talking about how this was like a super busy place for humans and spirits, and it's easy for them to get trapped since the supposed demon loved stealing the energy—” Colby spoke before Seth interrupted him. 
“You bet, you bet I do—No for real guys that's what it said before a laugh. I'm shaking,” Seth rushed. Colby shot a glance at Sam the same time Sam turned to him. 
“Why do you stay here and take the energy—”
“It—” Seth laughed as his cheeks blushed pink. “It's literally just a girl moaning.”
“Moaning? What the fuck?” Sam whispered back at Colby. 
“Do you like to trick people here? Are you bored or something so you feed off their energy for entertainment?” Colby asked. 
“I love it, I love it, I love—So stupid.” My head turned to the side in confusion; what the hell did that mean?
“Are you calling us stupid because we don't understand?” Sam asked. 
For some reason I raised my voice next. 
“Or are you calling the people you play with stupid—”
“Fucking bitch.”
“What the fuck,” Sam gasped as he looked at me. 
“Damn sorry for speaking,” I laughed. 
“You will be.” The boys gasped and looked at me as I stared at a completely oblivious Seth who still rocked back and forth in time with the jumping channels in his headphones. 
“That's—That’s a threat,” Colby raised his voice. He took a step in front of me.
“You can't touch us or mess with us, you und—”
“Too late.”
“Too late as in too late because we’re all tired?” Nate asked. 
“Yeah maybe it's already influenced us like Dr. Smith—” It cut Colby off. 
“You'll feel it. Can't you?” 
“Yeah we're pretty tired,” Sam replied, still somehow patient and confident. “Is that you making us tired?”
“Even more than.”
“More than what? You're making us more tired than usual?”
“Idiot.” Sam took a step back with a laugh. 
“I'm tired of getting roasted by a demon,” he laughed. I wanted to laugh with them, but the fire started at my knees. Yes, it was hot in the room, but a particular ache that I wished was new spread lower than it typically did. 
It was hot. And I wasn't just sweating. 
“What’s your name?” Colby spoke up that time. 
“It's my pleasure.”
“What does that mean?” Sam asked in our direction. Colby shook his head. I stared intently at Seth still as if I couldn't look away. The fairness of his skin drew me in and it took a full seven more seconds until I realized the fire in my legs raised to my mid thigh and even higher. 
I ached. 
“What's your pleasure, what do you like to do to people?” Colby asked. 
“Everything.”
My stomach fell out of its place. 
“Everything,” Sam gasped nsd Colby quickly raised his hand. 
“You would do everything to us?”
“Somethings.”
“You cannot hurt us or follow us home, you must stay here—”
“Oh trust me.”
“I don't like this,” I finally choked out. 
“Yeah me neither,” Colby’s voice gently replied. 
“Should we get him out?”
“One more question then we will,” he replied to Sam. 
“What do you want to do to us?”
“it's already been done.”
“What? What have you—”
“Bye.”
And the headphones yanked from Seth’s head and fell to his feet by themselves. 
The five of us stood frozen; all eyes peeled to the headphones that now reverberated with the shrill of empty changing channels. 
The heat pooled in my stomach. I needed to change underwear. 
“Holy shit—“ I finally break and take a step back.
”I know, oh god. What was—What the fuck—”
“What the hell just happened?” Colby cried and cut off Nate. 
”Let’s—Let’s go back,” Sam choked out. “We need to get out of here.” Seth was deathly still and soaked in what had just happened to him. Nate’s hand held the back of his neck as we all left the conference room.
“Did—Did we get anything good at least?”
“Oh my god, let me tell you what happened.” On the way back to our rooms many stories above, Sam told Seth the entire story. 
“How was that possible?” Colby finally broke. He spun around and walked backwards so he could see us all. “It literally stole enough energy from us to throw the fucking headphones down!”
”Which makes sense. I might pass out,” Seth said. 
“Let’s hurry.” Colby grabbed my hand.
The ache wouldn’t leave. It was like it attached itself to my legs and spread up, up, and up— the heat in between my legs was unbearable now. I needed sleep. I needed to pass out. I needed—
I looked at Colby as we entered the elevator. His eyes were nearly devoid of color. We all were drained and tired, and this strange feeling like a spirit of desperation or something, came over all of us so suddenly that even Sam forgot to pick up the camera and press record again.
Nate and Seth went straight to their suite and Sam led us into ours. My heart pounded against my ribs as I crossed the threshold. Eyes. I felt their eyes on me but I didn’t turn back. Too tired, too drained, I didn’t know what else, or how much else, I could handle. I kicked my shoes off if I walked and didn’t even mind that they were in the middle of the floor. I flopped on the bed only for them to follow me. 
Sam pulled a rem pod out of the backpack and set it up in the corridor between the first room and the bedroom while he set another room in between the corridor of the bedroom to the bathroom.
”Just in case,” he told Colby as he shot him confused looks.
The anxiety that welled in my chest depleted when Sam yawned and slipped out of his hoodie. Colby’s eyes were closed and I couldn’t tear my eyes from his dark lips when he licked them wet.
”I’m so ready to pass out,” Sam said. He flicked the lights off. 
Colby made a sound as he moved and I heard him as well strip clothes off. What was happening? It sounded like their heads were caught in a fog as well and we couldn’t think. Our decision making skills were non-existent and when I slipped under the blankets in between them, it didn’t feel off from any other situation we had been in. At least Sam plugged his phone in. I could have left mine in that conference room and it wouldn’t have mattered to me.
The darkness of our room struck me before my head hit the pillow and I was out.
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My throat was a dry fire and my skin turned to lava. My eyes peeled open and swirls of blues and whites from my forgotten dream mix with the darkness of the room around me. I whined. It was fucking hot. I sat up straight because if I didn’t get the hoodie off of me immediately I was certain I would die.
”Hey,” I heard Colby’s half asleep voice. I only whined again in response. He sat up. “What’s wrong—“
”So fucking hot I’m going to be sick.”
”Here, here,” his soft voice replied, and his hands quickly snaked under my hoodie. It was a frenzy to get everything off. I didn’t know what came over me, us, but before I knew it my hoodie hit the floor on top of his leather jacket and my thermal came off with it. My back hit the bed again as he hovered halfway over me. “Better?” He whispered.
”I—I don’t—I need—“
”What do you need?” My hands already fumbled with the button of my skinny jeans. Colby’s eyes trailed down my body and I didn’t cower in the sight. His hands swatted mine away and I lifted my hips so he could drag the damp fabric from them. Only when my jeans met his on the floor did I realize that he too only wore underwear.
”Something—anything—“
”Fuck, it’s not just me who feels it then, huh?” I shook my head quickly. He wavered in his confidence. Even in the darkness of the room I watched his head shake. His arms shook as well and he fought within himself it seemed.
”Do whatever you want, Colby.” So he lowered himself down on me. When did my legs spread?
And when I felt how hot and hard he was already, questions poured through my mushy brain faster than I could process them. Was this an effect from the demon? If so, what kind of demon was it? Were we not just tired out of our minds but also horny out of our minds as well? What if this wasn’t even the demon? Did I really like Colby more than I was willing to admit? Was Sam alright? Was he even still asleep?
A moan hitched in my throat when Colby purposely thrusted against me slowly. My back arched and he pinned me down by my throat.
”Sh,” he demanded. “This is what I want. You still gonna let me do it?”
I couldn’t think. Nothing rational repeated disagreements in my mind because for far too long now I’ve wanted this too.
I nodded frantically.
”Please, I’ll beg you to do it if you won’t.” He laughed once.
”I don’t think I can give you the time to beg this time.” This time? More sounds so far from myself escaped my tense throat when his thumb dipped into my mouth. He pulled at my teeth then my bottom lip and even though I know he only tried to find where my mouth was, my eyes still rolled back at the feeling and bitter taste.
And his mouth was on mine.
He drank down my moans and pushed my legs back so that he could thrust against every part of me. I couldn’t even call any part of this dry or clothed because my arousal was enough to saturate both of our clothes to ruin.
My stomach couldn’t keep up; it twisted under my skin and my heart pounded in my ears with every lick of his tongue behind my teeth. My hands chased up his skin from his pantline to his neck where I held tightly. I couldn’t get enough of it even if our sweat mended together past the point of comfort and our noises and movements were definitely harsh enough to wake Sam. 
When he pulled away, I sucked on his tongue hoping to bring him back.
”Holy fuck—“ he gasped as I let go of his tongue. It was then and there that I decided I could never get over his taste and I needed more and more of it until I was addicted. 
And I heard a heavy breath from Sam. 
He did too because both of us shot wide glances at him. Of course Colby didn’t stop the obscene movements against me. Thankfully. Colby looked back at me, but I still watched Sam sleep. His head tossed from being disturbed and my heart dropped when I realized that in a matter of seconds, Sam’s eyes would be on us.
”Look at me,” Colby hummed and of course I did. “Please, can I…” He mumbled as his fingertips dipped under the band of my underwear.
”Fucking god—obviously,” I whined and writhed under him because why wouldn’t he hurry the fuck up—
My underwear were halfway down my thighs when we froze in our tracks; a moan that wasn’t mine. 
“What—“
And another. 
We looked at Sam simultaneously and I couldn’t look away from him this time.
”Maybe it—Maybe it’s not just us too,” Colby aimlessly spoke as he hurried to get my underwear off my legs. It was impossible to keep still. The friction overstimulated my every nerve but it also wasn’t enough. I needed more, more of something, of anything.
”Fuck.” Another drawn out moan interrupted us and I couldn’t contain the fluttering in my chest from the sound of Sam’s voice. He must have still been asleep because he moved lazily. I watched him as Colby ducked under the blanket. 
Just as Colby’s mouth met my thighs, Sam thrusted up into the sheets.
He looked for something, anything, and in that moment I understood. I questioned, something in me truly did because this was incredibly unlike us, but I couldn’t think straight. Not with this haze flooding my neck and this cotton stuffed in my brain.
”Colby—“ I gasped the second his tongue met me. My hand found his hair and it only pulled a moan from him. 
“What the fuck.” And there it was. A groggy voice next to me. I looked away from him in fear of my own red blush but I forgot how dark the room was. “Oh shit—“ It sounded like Sam came to and understood the situation now. “What the hell, why do I feel—“
”Sam.” I didn’t mean to hum his name the same way I did Colby’s. Colby moaned as he sucked me sweetly; I nearly blacked out from the heat of his tongue. And when his fingers teased me? My hips writhed for him. “Please oh my god, more just—inside already,” I whined and thank the heavens Colby didn’t put up a fight.
I didn’t even try to conceal my moans anymore, not when his fingers filled me and his tongue stimulated me so perfectly. Even in the darkness I saw and felt the head rush; my vision pounded with stimulation and shock.
Muffled moans caught my attention and I looked at Sam. He had turned to his front and although his eyes were closed and pointed down, he still faced me. His arms were crossed under his pillow and I knew he tried to fall back asleep.
He was closer though.
And I didn’t disregard the way his hips thrusted repeatedly into the mattress.
”Colby please, god I’m so close.”
”I know,” he whispered but pulled away. I wanted to complain but how could I when his kisses and tongue trailed up my body like that? 
“Sam he’s—“
”I know,” Colby laughed. “It’s okay.” 
“How do you know?”
”Look at him,” he laughed. “He would have told us to fuck off by now.” I don’t know why I would ever question Colby’s judgment of Sam. He knew him like he knew himself; I should have known they could communicate without even speaking at this point.
”It—It's okay,” Sam choked out. “Fuck—Colby, fuck her.”
I swore I met god from the sound of those words on his wet tongue. 
A string of inaudible expletives rushed from Colby's mouth as he crawled up to eye level with me. 
And he couldn't even wait. 
He pulled himself from his underwear instead of taking them off, and my head tossed back when his wet tip slipped across me. My hands grappled for anything to hold on to for support. I couldn't contain myself or control my movements, not when Colby felt like heaven incarnate.
Sam's hand came up and pinned my wrist to the pillow next to my head. I whined for release but didn't do a good enough job escaping his grasp; his fingers slid up and interlocked with mine. 
“Can I? Inside you?” Colby gasped. 
“Inside me, fill me up please. I need—You know how bad I—”
“I know, I know,” he groaned before pushing himself fully in. 
A moan punched out of me and I couldn't keep my eyes open anymore. Sam moaned as well and held my hand tighter. 
And as Colby fucked me like we would have no other chance, Sam thrusted into the bedding and pushed his hip against mine. 
“Feel—Oh my god you feel better than I imagined,” Colby moaned. 
“You imagined me?”
“No shit,” Sam bit back in spite. Colby only moaned louder and shoved my knees back further. My moans lifted to nearly a scream and Colby clasped his hand around my throat. 
“Sh, only I can hear you, baby.”
“And Sam, right?”
“Fuck,” Colby laughed. Maybe I couldn't see him but I heard the blush. “Only if you can be good for him too.”
“I can be good,” I whined. Sam moaned and his hip pushed tighter into mine. 
“Let go Sam—My hand, let go,” I forced out through the moans, and he did. Immediately I lowered my hand in between us and slipped it under him. 
“Oh shit!” He cried and allowed me to wedge my way in between the bed and his insanely wet arousal. Between my sweat covering my skin alongside Colby’s and our pre-come saturating our legs and sheet, I should have felt disgusted. But it was heaven on earth. I wanted to drown in them. “Oh my god, you'll make me cum so fast,” Sam gasped into the pillow. 
“You're doing so good,” Colby's moan turned into a laugh. “Like holy shit—I'm fucking close too.”
“Harder, please Colby, fuck me harder,” I whined and his head tossed back. His skin slipped under my nails from the sweat so I couldn't leave marks so I yanked him down by the neck. His hand supported himself next to my head and he moaned as I sucked harsh bruises into his collarbone. 
And I pushed my hand tighter against Sam. His underwear were soaked and I just needed a little more—
“Oh—Oh my god yes, yes, yes—” Sam moaned as I shoved my hand in his underwear. I stroked him in time with his thrusts and there was something about the way his hips shook that ingrained in my mind. 
Colby gouged his fingers into the thick of my thighs and I couldn't help but hope there were marks for me to fawn over in the morning. And it was his turn. 
He leaned over me, and with his free hand, he held the side of my neck and kissed me into the pillows. I couldn't breathe between his violent thrusts and with his intoxicating taste in my throat, I let go of my body and let the boys fully take over it. 
Then another arm came up and pulled my leg back. 
“Sam—” I gasped his name when he inserted his arm under my leg between me and Colby. A gasp expelled from my used throat when he swirled his fingers against me. “Shit! There, there like that, oh my god!” I all but screamed. 
“Oh fuck yeah, does it feel good baby?” Colby moaned. “Does it take both of us to please you, make you feel good?” 
“Please! I'm so—”
“Holy shit, the rem pod!” Sam groaned. 
And he was right. 
I opened my eyes to find blue and red lights flickering in the dark abyss of a room and a loud shrill combined with our moans. Of course he was even prettier fucked out of his mind. Colby's hair stuck in every direction, and his lips parted in pleasure so I could see the gleam of saliva on his tongue. Fuck, I wanted him inside of me. Not even if he curled up in my bones would he be close enough. 
“What—What time is it?” Colby breathlessly tried to ask in a serious tone. 
Of course they would still be on the grind for work while fucking my brains out. 
Sam moaned as he leaned and grabbed his phone—
“Holy fucking shit no way; it's 3:33am now 3:34.”
“Jesus, fuck,” Colby gasped. I didn't give a fuck. I needed him deeper, closer.
“More please—”
“So needy, baby. Oh my god. Want more? Alright, let me—” Colby rose to his knees and pushed my thighs back again. “Sam finger her, use your fingers, yeah like that.”
My gasp caught in my throat when Sam slipped his fingers lower and joined Colby inside of me. This time I think I blacked out but I'm not sure; when I open my eyes, my tears blur what little exposure the rem pod lights give us. Colby’s blue hued face gleamed back at me blurry and Sam's moans flooded my side. 
“I'm cumming—” I whined. Colby nodded his head furiously. 
“Shit yeah, cum—cum for us,” he praised. And Sam fucked his fingers deeper and finally found that spot inside of me—
My orgasm crashed into me before I could prepare myself and I closed my eyes and allowed the pleasure to take me. 
Sam's moan was next, and I felt him cover us with his warm fluid. I made sure I stroked him harder until his hips painfully pinned my hand down and rendered it unable to move. His moans turned into whines from overstimulation and that was when Colby broke as well. 
“I'm—Holy shit I'm going to—”
“Fill me, Colby. Please I need your cum. Cum inside of—” I barely finished my sentence before he choked out a loud moan as well. With my name on his lips, I swore I could have finished again and again, nevermind Sam's fingers that still harshly worked me. 
It took a second or two and then Colby cried out with overstimulation.
“Sam—” he gasped, but as he pulled out, Sam got up to his knees and pinned me down. 
“Please, please, please! It's so much!”
“Let go, baby. Let go when you need to—”
“Sam! Oh my god—”
Another wave of pleasure drowned me and I held onto his other arm as he fingered me through the intensity of it all. After another few seconds, he pulled his dripping hand away. My entire body violently shook as I watched a cup full of my fluids and Colby's release drip from his hand. 
“Holy shit, you're so damn hot,” Colby laughed as he leaned back over me and kissed me again. He wiped the tears from my face. 
It took a few moments. 
For us to come back to ourselves, find our wits again.
The rem pod never stopped. 
Sam walked to the bathroom to clean up since he was the dirtiest. 
“Holy shit, what pervy ghosts—”
The rem pod stopped. 
“No fucking way,” Colby burst out laughing and I covered my face with my arms. “Stop,” he laughed and pulled my arms back. “How can you blame them? You're so hot, so sexy, the most beautiful thing—”
“Alright ew, get a room,” Sam jeered from the bathroom. 
“You're judging as if you didn't just finger her with my dick on your hand—”
“Alright I didn't think you'd say anything about that.”
“Aw, what, are you embarrassed that you touched his dick for the first time?” I teased. 
“And it's the fucking last time too; that was disgusting,” Sam complained as he washed his hands harsher. 
“I would have expected it to definitely not be the first time—”
“Shut the hell up,” Colby laughed. “Sam’s just judging me for telling you how hot you are, how beautiful and good you are—” I watched a sliver of Sam's reflection in the mirror as he smiled and shook his head. “—How much I love you.” 
My stomach dropped and my eyes looked straight to Colby. The bathroom orange light drenched his face with an overwhelming warmth I wanted to swim in. 
“Colby—” He held my face in his hands. “Love you.” The sentence only just fell from my lips before his met mine. 
“Okay, okay,” Sam said. “There's all the time in the world for the lovey stuff after I leave.”
“And this is the only time you'll be here for this,” Colby snapped back. My eyes widened. I didn't anticipate Colby's genuine hostility towards his best friend over me. 
“Colby,” Sam laughed. “I know. Obviously I know: she's been all yours from the start.” 
“What the hell?” I shrieked. “Am I the only one who knows about this?” The two burst out laughing but not without a thick blush on Colby's already flared cheeks. 
“Seems like it,” Sam laughed as he pulled on fresh underwear and clothes. 
“Okay,” Colby sighed. I gasped as his arms tucked under my worn out body. “Let's clean up so we can actually have a good sleep.” 
I held onto him as he carried me to the bathroom. He turned on the shower as I pulled my hair back to keep it from getting wet. 
“Oh my—” He gasped a laugh when he looked in the mirror. Love bites lined his collarbones and slipped down his chest. “How are you so damn good at that?”
“I don't know, I guess you bring out the worst in me.”
“You have to be careful because I'll bite you back.” 
“Oh yeah? Maybe you should or else you're all talk and no bite—Ah!” With that coy smile he slapped my ass and pushed me towards the shower. 
“Get in the damn water, you're dripping cum everywhere.”
I couldn't open my mouth as Colby dropped to his knees in front of me. Ever so gently, his hands cleaned my skin with soft body wash until I was clean and smelled like myself again. He kissed my skin and trailed up my thigh. 
“Don’t,” I sighed as I brushed his hair back. It was soaked from being directly under the water. He looked up at me darkly; eyes bright blue again. 
“Can't wait until we go home.”
“And why's that?”
“Then I can finally have you in my bed like I've always wanted.”
“Colby is—” My tongue tied in my throat as the bashful smile fell. My heart slowed. I licked my lips. He stood to his feet. “—is that something you've wanted? Permanently?”
A slow nod from him had never felt this way before. 
“I've wanted you, permanently.”
“Let me go home with you then.” My arms wrapped around his neck. “I've wanted to be yours forever by now.” 
And he tossed his head back into the water with a wide smile. 
“Fucking finally.”
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The morning wasn’t kind.
The sunlight bit at our sensitive eyes, with zero remorse, as we tried to get ourselves together and ready for check out. We all were spent. Now it was time for a long—long—break in our own beds. 
When we made it to the lobby, it took all but three seconds for the other two guys to shine widened shocked eyes back at us. Of course I messed up; I miscalculated the height of Colby’s neckline last night, but could anyone blame me?
”Colby—You—Last night?” Nate gasped. They looked at me. 
“I—“
”Sam?” Nate looked at him. His face flushed pink as a boyish smile pulled at his lips. 
“Hey now,” his hands rose in self defense. “It wasn’t me and it’s not happening again if you really want to know.” Colby tried his best to hide a wide smile, but as he hooked his arm around my neck, he broke a laugh.
”Jesus Christ.”
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A/N: I am new here—to Tumblr (other than my account from 2013-2016 that popped off real hard rip)—and also Sam and Colby. I write predominately one shots for Dream Team, Corpse Husband, and Sam and Colby now. I dumped all my works on Wattpad—easy reads—and I got up to 3 Million reads on my Corpse Husband one shot collection, but Wattpad smote that shit.
Request anything—outside of my listed interests, I’m open to Jake Webber and Johnnie Guilbert but I don’t know much about them—and I will write it. I focus on 18+ writing so request anything in your wildest dreams, and if it somehow is too wild for me, I will let you know (but that has yet to happen).
Love, Rosie
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kneelingshadowsalome · 7 months
Text
FATUM NOS IUNGEBIT 2/4
König x F!Reader
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Summary: You have seen him in your dreams. The seer has divined his coming. But nothing has prepared you for witnessing him in the flesh. (Historical AU where König fights for the Roman Empire in an auxiliary unit, finds a cute barbarian woman and decides to keep her as his own.) Part 1 here. Word count: 5.1 k Tags/warnings: 18+ ONLY. Spoils of war/enemies to lovers trope, graphic depictions of violence, historical gruesomeness, pining, odd banter, mixed feelings, romantic fluff, dubcon cuddling, eventual smut. Captor/captive dynamic. König is a brutal warrior... and a gentle giant. A/N: Part two! I don't usually rec music for my fics but if this fic was a song, it would be Dead can Dance’s In Power we Entrust the Love Advocated.
You wake up with a giant plastered on your back.
His bed is far more comfortable than your own, soft and cushy, and there must be flowers somewhere in the hay because there is a surprisingly pleasant odour lingering in the air as you come to. The mattress overall doesn’t reek of too much sweat: some poor slave must change the fillings often enough for König’s stench not to settle on the bed. Actually, you’ve slept quite nicely, despite being embraced by an ogre the whole night.
König has slept like a stone, too, but stirs when you start to shift. You turn on your back and find his drowsy stare on you: it’s generous and warm as he pulls you closer to him. You could roll your eyes when you notice he’s hard down there again – he’s probably hard all the time, whether in bed with a woman or raging on the battlefield, sticking his swords into some poor man’s gut.
“Gut geschlafen?” He asks, and you reckon he’s trying to ask if you’ve slept well – in his domain, in his embrace, after he just slaughtered half of your village.
You give him another pout, which is starting to become your signature expression now. He replies to your grumpiness with a smile, his own trademark move, the one that threatens to strip you from all your arms. He squeezes you fondly against his chest, and then his hand starts to wander: he plays with your tits again, then slinks further down to brush your navel. When he crosses the border and heads straight toward your womanhood, you seize his arm.
He whines softly at your refusal, but to your surprise, he actually stops. You let him go as he moves back up and stay immobile under his touch, amidst the flowery scent and the faint stench of dirt and man sweat, sighing as he cups your breast again. He doesn’t seem to get enough of them, and they’re beginning to feel sore: he gave them so much attention last night already and is now at them again.
You pull his hand away, but this time, he doesn’t respect your wishes but resists you. Trying to hinder a man who’s as strong as a bull is futile, but you have an attempt at it anyway. It turns into a play fight: you wrench his hand down, he drags it back up. Up and down and up and down, as if your breast is a hill he needs to conquer at all costs. But he’s the only one who finds any amusement in your silly game: eyes narrowing again with a smile, a few soft chuckles under that hood telling you he enjoys it when you fight him a little.
It all ends when you finally slap him.
It’s neither a good nor a hard slap, and his mask muffles whatever sound was supposed to give you at least some measure of satisfaction. 
But he stops... And laughs.
“Ja, ich weiß. Ich habe deine Leute getötet. Ich verdiene eine Ohrfeige.”
His language is harsh and throaty, abrupt, and you tell him that, safe with the knowledge that he can’t understand a word you say either.
“You talk ugly,” you complain and watch him up and down, searching for a clue that would tell you that he somehow understands your insult. König simply thunders with another mirthful laugh at your morning crank.
“Es ist schön, mit dir zu reden. Aber jetzt muss ich weg.”
He looks down at you like he’s the Sun God now, thoroughly life-giving and kind. Then he dares to bend forward and press a kiss on your forehead.
“Go away,” you try to push him back with your hands - the hood prevents you from feeling his skin and breath and lips, but the… intimacy is still too much.
“Brute,” you want to spit the word out but end up sounding like a child attempting to quarrel instead. And he’s laughing at you again, both with his eyes and his mouth, covered by that darned hood. You don’t know why on earth you would think that such a charming laugh must come from an equally charming mouth.
He finally retreats and rises from the bed, stretching out his arms. The broad muscles on his back are exposed to the frigid air and his cock is jutting out, long and veined, completely unaffected by the cold. This beast is ripe and ready for another day, and you swallow when you see him in his full glory again, tall and wide and strong, looking like he’s about to eat an entire boar and fuck ten women in the process.
“Schön,” he comments as he turns to look down at you, lying naked and sweet there in his bed. He looks at you like you are the most lovely, adorable, difficult little thing. He even gives his horse cock a few good strokes while taking your sleepy little pouts in.
“Ugly,” you slur back, and he winks at you. 
Gods… You’re too hot and riled to even speak.
You choose to vehemently stay in bed as König starts his day: eats some fruit from the table - still naked - pours himself some wine and washes his mouth with it, tears a handful of bread from a loaf and starts to eat with his mouth open, munching loudly under that hood, walking around without bothering to cover himself and that ungodly erection that is bouncing in the air without a care in the world.
You, on the other hand, escape back under the warm covers of the furs, but your eyes never leave König. He draws the draping flap of his tent aside - still naked - giving his soldiers a good view of his morning wood, a lovely chance to get a look at their champion. Perhaps it’s his way of saying good morning, you think bitterly. Then he leaves, probably to take a piss, and you’re more and more convinced that this man is the worst beast that has ever walked this earth.
You’re still under the furs when he returns and finally gives you the grace of clothing himself. It’s stupid that you mourn losing the sight of those shoulders and feel a bit disappointed when his cock disappears under the red tunic. His manhood doesn’t look any less intimidating even when growing soft; it’s still long and veiny and thick, and you find yourself… curious. Just curious.
He doesn’t put his armour on this time, chooses to wear only his tunic and sandals and a pair of hard-boiled leather cuffs to protect the vital veins on the wrists. He does take one Gladius with him, though - a sign of distrust in his own men or a Roman custom, you can’t tell.
He’s already at the mouth of the tent when he turns and points at you, now with a good amount of sternness in his voice.
“Du. Bleibst.”
He’s away the whole day. Probably drawing plans at some field war council, eating and drinking and bouncing some poor girl on his knee. 
Even the thought makes your nose wrinkle and your stomach churn. Of course there are other trophies, and of course men want to show them off, pass them around, give their commanders a chance to give each woman a good squeeze. König has probably stuck that cock into a few women by now. Moaning, screaming women. 
Or then he just settles for annoying their poor senses out of them…
You can’t deny that you’re relieved he hasn’t thrown you to the wolves yet, not even after you denied him. Wondering why on earth he would even want to listen to your wishes gives you an awful headache, and the image of him laughing at - or with - some other shy captive girl is making you uncomfortable. So uncomfortable that you throw the skins away after noon, and decide you’re not going to just succumb to your fate, least of all give in to sadness and apathy. 
You eat this and that from his table like you’re not a slave girl but an honoured guest, a queen. You eat his figs and his bread and some smoked meat; you even drink some of his wine, as sour as it is. You’re a bit tipsy when you go through all his belongings, which are not as abundant or exciting as you thought they would be. 
You thought you’d find tiny chests filled with gold coins and rings. You thought you’d come by dried body parts taken as trophies, perhaps the crown of some long-forgotten Hibernian king. But there are only a few trinkets under his bed, a huge bow and some arrows, his armour and the second Gladius, perfectly stored above the ground so that rust and mould wouldn’t bite them. There are jugs of wine and some firewood and oil for the braziers, there’s water and benches and the table and lots and lots of candles in different shapes and sizes… But that’s it. There’s no hoard, no treasure, nothing to prove to you that this brute is just another Roman soldier trying to gather a fortune by raping and pillaging so that he can go and retire early from all the bloodshed.
And it makes you shiver. Does he do this just for the sake of it, only because he enjoys killing so much? What is his reason to fight?
The only item that sends an odd sting in your heart is a small wooden statue. You feel like a thief when you rummage through a small satchel you find next to his breastplate, the only place you didn’t feel like peeking into because it looked so… personal. 
Proving to yourself that you don’t care about his privacy or feelings, you end up pushing your fingers inside it anyway, meeting this peculiar carved piece of wood. There is nothing else there in the satchel, just the statue, and you feel yourself swallow a lump in your throat as you see it depicts a lush, buxom woman. Her breasts are nearly the size of her belly, larger than her head, and you realize that it is clearly the statue of the Great Mother this brute carries with him.
You put it back quickly, feeling a tingling in your fingers and a rapid flutter in your heart, as if you had just poked into something quite sacred. And it is sacred, the Mother. You wonder why, for the love of all the gods, this man would keep such a divine and fertile amulet near him. The statue is supposed to be a vessel for wishes and fortune; it is an idol of worship. König seems like the last man on earth to take up worshipping women.
You just want to get out of this place but can’t. There’s no one to go back to: your chief is dead, the people have fled, the rest of the warriors are scattered across the land. You have no idea where your brother might even be. 
You have no wish to escape this tent; you have no desire whatsoever to step a foot outside and show yourself to his hungry men. 
König comes back after nightfall and is not surprised at all to find you haven’t escaped. He’s not surprised that you have eaten some of his food either; he doesn’t even scold you. But then the eternal groping starts again as he gets undressed and lays himself down next to you.
You don’t even know why you allow him to touch you. Perhaps it’s because you know it’s better to just let him caress you if he wants; it’s better to suffer the weight of his hands on you if it means he won’t rape you with that cock. If you don’t complain, perhaps he will settle for squeezing and petting and stroking you.
But your body is a traitor: it’s hungry for him, for some ungodly reason, and always craves for more. You say to yourself that you only allow this to happen because it’s a condition, a compromise, a meeting in the middle. You never acknowledge the way your nether lips puff up like a fat flower every time he fondles your breasts. You pay no attention to how wet you get when he caresses your face, your waist, even your thighs, every part of you except the place between your legs, the place you kind of want him to touch... If only he would be gentle and didn’t get too excited, you’d let him touch you there, too, as sick and accursed as it is.
And it’s all good until he starts to hum. 
It may be some song from his homeland, the land of ugly brutes, but it’s not a crude giant song… In fact, it’s a rather beautiful, melancholy tune. Your body is relaxed and your pussy is wet; your nipples are tight and pleased as he pets you slowly, lovingly - but that song is too much. You don’t want him to see you cry, not even a single tear, and now there’s an entire flood about to occur.
“Don’t touch me,” you whisper, trying not to choke on your sorrow. He doesn’t stop - of course he doesn’t. He gets bolder by the day, and he can see that you’re enjoying yourself. In a way.
"Magst du es gestreichelt zu werden?" He asks, soft and tender, so incredibly gentle that the tears are about to burst forth at any given moment now.
“Ich glaube das tust du,” he rumbles when you don’t answer him. His hand is heavy and broad on your hip as he finally stops caressing you. You squeeze your eyes shut, and it causes the glimmer in your eyes to fall. Tears roll down your cheeks and into your hair, as you lie there next to a titan, about to shatter into a million pieces.
“Wurdest du schon einmal berührt…?”
You want to shout at him to shut up already, to stop talking so gently, asking you questions you don’t understand, to stop trying to find a way to communicate with you through song and hum and touch. The hand on your hip moves, slowly, with devastating cunning towards your core. He’s about to touch you there, to try and feel if you’re wet... If you’d like it that he pounded you a little. You wonder if he would do that gently too, and almost laugh through your tears. It will be your undoing if he finds out that you’re soaked all the way to your thighs, aching to feel him inside you, even a finger, just something…
“No… Nein,” you rule out sternly, opening a new way of communication. You don’t know if the word is correct, but he catches it immediately and stops. 
“Nein?”
He sounds both happy and sad; happy that you try to use his language, sad that you use it to give him such a disappointing command.
“No touching,” you repeat and open your eyes, finding his hazy figure hovering above you. You barely discern the gulf of sadness in his eyes, but it is there: undisguised, trying to reach out and join with yours. Gods… How strangely appropriate it is that you are both so very alive, wanting to be devoured by each other’s hunger and lust, only to find yourselves on the brink of tears and hollow loss.
“No... No touching…”
“Verstanden.” 
He takes his hand away from you and turns, not even joining you under the fur tonight.
The next morning, you wake up attached to him.
Somehow you’ve managed to wriggle under his furs and, on top of that, crawled to hug his side like this. You blame the spring cold for it, of course. Your heart bangs against your ribs as you notice how tightly you’re squeezing him, breasts pressed flush against his hard middle, belly fluttering against his hip. You’ve even draped your leg across his so that your poor, lonely cunt is resting right there over his thigh. 
You swear in your mind with all the words and terms you know and can think of.
How the hell are you supposed to detach from a giant without waking him up? His arm is around you, holding you loosely in a warm, pleasing shackle. He feels so, so good - blazing, big and safe, so incredibly nice. You never knew sleeping next to a man could feel so nice. You’re half asleep still, mainly because his body and scent make you feel like you’ve had too much wine again.
You allow yourself a few more moments before you rip yourself off him. Or at least, try to: the arm snares you the instant you attempt to move. It prevents you from leaving him, and you end up hovering awkwardly there, almost on top of him, tits pointing straight at his face, panicked, doe-eyed stare guided to his unwavering blue eyes, open, and regarding you with warm love.
And the damned man smirks again.
“No touching?” He inquires with silly, completely feigned shyness.
“Shut up,” you breathe and try to get off of him, but his other hand comes to brush your cheek next, and you freeze.
“Schön… Pretty,” he tries, and you nearly whimper at the sound of your native tongue in his mouth. 
Pretty… Is that what the word means, the odd ugly word he has repeated ever since he stole you?
His eyes are warm and his hand is gentle as he caresses your cheek, and the snare around your waist tightens. Softly… Invitingly.
“Stop it,” you whisper, on the brink of tears again, because this time, your shields and armour and weapons are gone. You just woke up to a feeling of odd contentment, fulfilment, even joy. 
And it’s not right. 
He has no right to be this gentle with you.
You sniffle and sigh, and cast your eyes down to the chest that belongs to a giant. But you can’t deny that there must be a heart under there. A human heart under your palm. Your hand is right there over the strong beat because you’ve tried to push yourself away, and he won’t let you go. Another tear falls somewhere in the hair of his chest, and he rumbles with such compassion that you want to slap him again, hit his chest with your tiny little fists and bawl.
What you do instead is break down and let the ocean take you. You cry and sob and wail, right there in front of him, until he turns you on your stomach and comes to rest halfway on top of you. Through your tears, you understand that he’s trying to soothe you with his weight. It’s pure insanity how well it works. It releases a whole well of grief, and you start to shake with the cries; your whole body shudders with the sorrow as you retch it all out while König continues to caress you like a pet. He strokes your hair, pets your back, he even pats your ass as if you’re just a baby.
You cry long and hard, so long that he eventually lets out a long, deep sigh. When you’ve calmed down a bit and remain still, sniffling occasionally while squeezing the furs in your fist, trying to remember what it is to be an animal with feelings other than just sorrow, he leaves you.
He simply rises, and gets dressed, and leaves.
That is very much what you don’t need right now, much to your surprise. He was good at consoling you, as odd as it sounds.
Cold starts to creep in when there is no warm body next to you, and your skin misses the calloused gentleness of his palms. You wouldn’t mind if he wanted to hum that song to you now. But the darned bastard had to leave just when you were about to turn and cup his hooded face in return...
König comes back after a short while, but he’s not alone. You gather the furs against your chest, horrified and angry when you notice he returns to the tent with a short old man, vigorous and busy, but so tiny in stature that you doubt he was ever a warrior. You wonder if this is another foreigner or if you have the dubious pleasure of meeting your first genuine Roman.
They both stare at you, quite nonchalantly, while you sit there on the bed and try to cover your nakedness with animal skins while having red eyes and a pair of uninviting, quivering, puffed-up lips. 
The short fellow looks you up and down, then turns to talk to König in what appears to be this giant’s mother tongue. It’s a curt suggestion, muttered under his breath, and you realize König must’ve fetched a translator for you.
Oh, good Mother... Great Mother.
You watch these two men before you in a state of stunned shock, as König looks at you, then back at the old man, and nods. The Roman looks slightly vexed as if he just got up too. Then he starts to speak.
“Excuse our manners... We are men at war. If you wish to get dressed, we will wait outside.”
You blink at your own language being spoken to you, perfectly discernable but accompanied by a thick accent. You nod, and the men leave, returning only after you’ve dressed and cleared your throat in the tent.
“He asks if he killed your husband,” the translator starts immediately while König goes to sit on his favourite Roman bench. You’re wide awake now, and the nauseating feeling of being suddenly in the middle of an interrogation rises to your throat with a clot.
“He… What? No,” your eyes dart to König, who is looking at you with his undying ardour. For a man with so much sadness in his soul, he’s surprisingly carefree when he wants to.
“Do you have a husband?”
You gulp at the questions levelled at you. König keeps watching you intently, and you choose to look at the old translator instead, shaking your head slowly. The men exchange a few words, and the Roman turns to scold you with his stare.
“Master reminds you that it is wrong to lie,” he says, putting a lot more weight on his words this time. Roman or not, he calls this giant master, which means that he is just another slave in this camp. You swallow again and try to think, think, think; all the while König’s stare strips you of all your pretences, garments and words.
He thinks you’re trying to hide some imaginary husband, you understand and consider whether you should say that you have a husband: if there is any benefit you could gain from such a lie. König would only probably try to hunt him down… But what if he found out you were telling him tales? Would he feed you to his horny war dogs then?
“I’m not lying,” you say through slightly gritted teeth.
There is another exchange of words before the translator turns to you again.
“Are you untouched?”
“What…?”
“Master asks if you are a virgin.”
The translator is utterly unfazed, and mainly looks like he has better things to do than get to the bottom of whether there has been a cock inside you yet.
“That’s none of his business,” you hiss. The old man turns and starts to translate your words with a dull look.
“Wait—don’t tell him that,” you take a panicked step forward. 
Oh good Father in the Sky… Strike these men down so that I may be freed from them.
They pay you no attention; a few sentences pass from mouth to mouth, and the old man nods.
“Master says you are clearly a maiden,” he declares. You peek a glance at König, who is looking at you with hunger, and not the kind of hunger people look at their breakfasts with. Your breathing is getting out of hand, and when he opens his legs wider, clearly making more room for a rising cock, you decide to throw caution in the wind.
“You know what? Your master can go fuck himself with a stick for all I care…!”
The old man turns. He doesn’t even care to sigh; he merely opens his mouth to give your words to König.
“Don’t you dare translate that!” 
Finally, the old man sighs. He looks at the ceiling as if begging his gods to take him away from this tent. König’s stare flashes between you two, and he is evidently curious. Clearly, this is the most exciting conversation he’s ever had.
“Was sagt sie?”
“Tell him that I want to be freed,” you hurry to say before the translator can tell your insults to König. After a brief conversation, König leans forward in his chair to see the effect his words have on you.
“He says he can’t do that,” the Roman informs. “His soldiers will find you and take you.”
You close your mouth and try to even your breaths. No one says, You don’t want that. Everybody in this tent knows you don’t want that.
“He asks if he killed your brother or your father.”
You sniffle, quite involuntarily.
“No. He didn’t.”
“Then why are you angry and sad?”
There is a hint of genuine interest in the man’s voice. Both of these men are confused as to why you would bawl your eyes out after the massacre of your people.
"Because… Because he…"
“He says it is a man’s duty to die in battle. You should be proud of your fallen ones, not cry and feel sorry for them.”
“Tell him that he can go fuck himself,” you shout, not giving a single shit anymore about whether he translates the words or not. 
To no one’s surprise, he does.
“He says he’d rather fuck you,” he returns to you with König’s message.
You can’t bear to look your captor’s way, and still, that’s exactly what you do. You look at the giant as he stares at you, keen and hard and patient. But you know his patience has its limits. It’s almost like a promise, the way he leans forward in that chair and looks at you from under the hood, shameless and challenging.
“Never,” you guide your words to König now. It’s a brave little whisper, but you know that it’s a lie. Even the Great Mother knows you’re lying. You almost hear the cackle of the old woman rising from the earthen ground, from the chthonic depths, to mock you and your vows.
You hear the old man’s words from somewhere far away, from underwater, as König’s stare wrestles you down and takes away your little knife. He subdues you even when he’s sitting, and shares a string of words: a harsh promise. You hold your breath as his cock gives a pulse under that tunic, and your eyes fall, fall, fall onto it, because there’s no escape…
“He says he can make you feel good,” the voice says, and you can’t even hear who speaks. Your mouth is full of water, but you swallow it down, then shoot your way up to the surface, up, up, up into the sunlight, until you can breathe again.
You rip your eyes from König and look at the Roman translator with loathing and contempt.
“You can leave now. This conversation is over.”
Then you turn, trying not to pay any attention to the hushed conversation that proceeds behind your back. The man leaves the tent: you can hear it, and you can also hear how König rises from the chair and walks right behind you.
“No… afraid,” his hands come to rest on your shoulders, but you don’t even flinch. You knew he was going to touch you again. Perhaps you were even looking forward to it.
“I’m not afraid of you,” you start to argue, but he doesn’t take the bait.
“You like trees?”
He speaks your words, not good, but he speaks them. You wonder if he has known parts of your tongue all along and has simply concealed it. Has he understood what you’ve said to him…? All the slurs and stupid things? Mother, grant mercy…
“Why would I like—What kind of question is that?”
“Climbed a tree,” he explains cheerfully behind you. You turn and look up, yet again rendered weak. Giants are supposed to be stupid. They’re not supposed to know the language of faeries…
“Nosy,” he brushes your cheek with a smile in his eyes.
“Nosy?” 
You huff - as if you wanted to be there and witness him.
As if you had a choice after the seer pushed you on this insane, cruel path.
“Wanted to see me so bad?” König tilts his head playfully.
Gods… You can only look at him with brows curling with helpless frustration, lip trembling from how he seems to know your every little secret. He nods when you don’t say yes or no. He’s perfectly happy to read all the answers from your eyes.
“Ich wusste, dass es so war,” he changes into his own language, and you don’t need to understand the words he says.
You know he knows. He knows you, he knows you to your core, and it doesn’t really matter in which circumstances you two met. He knows far more than you, something about souls and how they’re supposed to meet, how little squirrels and giants belong together, as crazy as it is. That there is no chance in life: no, it was meant that you two meet. To him, it was no coincidence that you practically dropped into his lap from that tree.
“Did you like what you see?”
He holds your shoulders gently as you quiver and shake inside.
“No,” you peep.
“I like what I see,” he declares; a benevolent god.
A/N:. Thank you so much for your love and interest in this fic! As you may have noticed the fic now has 4 parts, which is because the 3rd chapter got too chunky and I had to split it 😇 Next part might take a while because I'm moving soon, but let me tell you... These guys will be put into *situations*. Oh, and a reminder that I don't have a taglist for this so please check any future updates from my pinned masterlist post 🩷
Translations:
Gut geschlafen? - Sleep well?
Ja, ich weiß. Ich habe deine Leute getötet. Ich verdiene eine Ohrfeige. - Yes, I know. I killed your people. I deserve a slap.
Es ist schön, mit dir zu reden. Aber jetzt muss ich weg. - It is lovely to talk to you. But now I have to go.
Du. Bleibst. - You. Stay.
Magst du es gestreichelt zu werden? - Do you like being petted?
Ich glaube das tust du. - I think you do.
Wurdest du schon einmal berührt…? - Have you ever been touched…?
Verstanden. - Understood. 
Was sagt sie? - What does she say?
Ich wusste dass es so war - I knew it was so.
2K notes · View notes
reallyromealone · 1 month
Text
Title: oh look a mate (s)
Pairing: demon brother's x reader
Chapter 2
Fandom: obey me
Warnings: male reader, omegaverse, nsfw content, angst, fluff, self hatred, reader has a lot of trauma, shitty family, toxic family, mentions of murder, attempted assassination mentioned
🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️
He remembered his first nest.
And how quickly his sister destroyed it.
His parents mocking him, his sister making him feel awful for having something like that.
This was what he thought of when he thought of inviting his family, that was the first memory he had.
He was eight at that time.
Staring at the paper, did he want to invite them?
"No, I don't think we're going to do that" he whispered to himself as he looked at the barely started letter, everytime he tried writing it another memory came back.
For once, he wanted something happy that they wouldn't intrude on.
This was for him.
Lucifer noticed something, something deeply concerning that he hadn't thought about till looking at (name) getting fitted for his wedding attire, he had no collar. His neck and scent glands exposed and no one caught this, how did they not notice this?! Lucifer looked at the ornate and beautiful collar he had commissioned, an expensive leather with their soulmate mark on a silver charm.
Simple but beautiful.
(Name) Was in his greenhouse again as Belphegor slept in the corner, (name) liked to think this was their hang out time because he would always appear when he was in here, it was nice.
(Name) Spoke about the things he was doing to the sleeping demon, a one sided conversation but (name) still enjoyed it as his happy pharamones filled the room "I'm growing tulips here, I think they would be lovely... I always loved them, they were my grandmothers favorites before she passed" he explained happily as he stretched "I think im done for the day" walking towards the demon he smiled "sorry but I'm going to need this, it's quite chilly today" he said as he went to take his cape but Belphegor had other ideas, pulling (name) in his embrace "this is very sweet but I think sleeping on a greenhouse ledge would hurt our backs"(name) said softly to the other who cracked an eye open and grunted "would you be willing to stay away a bit to go somewhere more comfortable?" He asked the Alpha who grunted "and where do you have in mind?"
Belphegor was a bit surprised when (name) had him teleport to (name)s space, the Omega leading him to his nest and gently pushing him in "much nicer!" He said simply as Belphegor let the other sit beside him as the demon pulled him close, already sleepy "you're a sleep demon right?" (Name) Asked curiously and Belphegor grunted "sloth avatar" his voice low and rumbly as (name) nodded "that must be tough"
"Not really... Now stop talking and sleep" he ordered the Omega who just let him hold him like a teddy bear.
The two slept for a few hours, the others looking for (name) everywhere before finding him in the nest "no fair, why does he get to go in the nest!" Beelzebub whined as (name) looked so peaceful "we'll get to go in it eventually" it was nice to see (name) let his guard down, he was sweet yes but always nervous...
"Let's let them sleep, his heats soon so it's best to let him conserve energy" Lucifer instructed as they begrudgingly left "I worry for his heat though " Asmodeus commented as they left the apartment and the others looked confused "he knows basically nothing... He's reading books to figure it out because he's worried he won't be good, I don't even think he's masturbated before" how could he? Suppressants basically knocked the libido out of you and not to mention his upbringing "a heat is scared, between an Omega and their body for the first few years and he was robbed of it" Satan said softly and they sighed, he couldn't have this heat by himself as their were traditions but they didn't want him going into his first heat after being in suppressants for years without knowing anything about sex.
"Maybe ask him if he wants to fuck?" Mammon said simply and Asmodeus glared at him "as much as I want that, we have to be delicate with him! Teach him how to pleasure himself!"
"Then let's to that then!" The white haired Alpha argued back and Lucifer and Satan just sighed and Levi wanted to just not be in this conversation anymore, embarrassed as hell.
(Name) Woke later on, The sun setting as Beelzebub walked in "have a good nap, sleepy?" He teased and (name) rubbed his eyes "how long did I sleep?" He whispered and Beelzebub chuckled "five hours"
"You guys let me sleep that long?!" He worried and the Alpha smiled "you were too cute to wake, now come on! It's dinner!" He seemed excited and (name) looked at Belphegor "don't worry about him, he usually gets leftovers later" Beelzebub lifted (name) as the Omega yelped "wait! I'm heavy!" He panicked and Beelzebub laughed "like holding a couple of grapes, don't worry I'm strong" he teased as they walked down the halls, the gluttony demon feeling how soft his mate was, face right near his chest... Nope don't get an erection right now! 'think of awful things!' he thought as he thought of the worst things imaginable, wasting food and uuuh Solomon shirtless!
'Bleh'
"There's the sleepy bunny~" Asmodeus teased, (name) looking a little disheveled as sleep still had him in a bit of a hold "sorry I slept so long..." He whispered and Mammon snorted "you were napping with Belph, he has that affect" the Omega nodded as Mammon put food on his plate, a bit extra as the Alpha felt the urge to make sure (name) was cared for.
They spoke of weddings and such as (name) enjoyed his meal, little chirps occasionally leaving his lips at the foods be particularly enjoyed as the demons watched happily "maybe when your garden is ready for harvest we can use them~" Lucifer on (name)s other side gently fixed the others shirt, a typical alpha grooming of his mate as he began (fixing/cleaning) his (hair/face) "how you manage to get dirty"
After dinner, (name) was curious as Lucifer halted him with Asmodeus standing beside him "could we talk to you? Just for a moment?" Lucifer asked the Omega who looked curious but nodded, letting Asmodeus take his hand as they went to Lucifer's office "we hope this isn't too forward darling but we wanted to ask..." Lucifer seemed to struggle on what to say exactly as Asmodeus stepped in "we want your first time to be memorable, not in the throws of heat where you may not remember and maybe understand your body more" Asmodeus said to the other who was now seated in a plush chair as Asmodeus crouched infront of him "you deserve to have your first time be on your terms and learn what you like, we don't have to have sex but would you be open to it?"
"I-I... Isn't mating for the alphas?" He was supposed to give alphas pleasure! He was an Omega!
"Oh darling no, Sex is supposed to be good for both parties, you and your comfort matter just as much as ours"
"You wouldn't see me as shameful for wanting that?" (Name)s voice barely above a whisper and the two got closer "darling im the avatar of lust, nothing you do would be shameful to me and Luci here just wants you to feel pride in yourself and your body" he explained and (name) felt his cheeks get wet with tears "promise?"
"Of course"
They set up for two days from now, Asmodeus would teach (name) about his body... Intimately.
And (name) was nervous but a heat pooled in his stomach he wasn't familiar with, ever since he stopped supressants his body had felt like shocks went through it whenever his alphas touched him, his omega quiet after so long begging him to do whorish things...
Oh god, he's been here a few weeks and he's already like this!
He wouldn't admit it but he liked how freeing it was, his mates never judging him....
They actively tried spending time with him, having him join their activities and lives.
He remembered when Lucifer tried teaching him how to ride a horse, the black haired demon sitting behind him on the stallion and guiding him gently, it was absolutely wonderful!
He wanted to treasure that memory forever...
Belphegor was still in the nest when (name) returned and changed into his sleep clothes getting comfortable and passing out as the sleep demon held him in a vice grip, possession absolutely noticable with the hold as (name) was soothed by how warm and cozy it felt.
(Sisters name) Was hysterical when the royal wedding was announced, a grand event that had the entire kingdom in a flurry of celebration as their town marketed that they were the town that had the Omega.
So she did what was logical.
Get rid of the problem in her life.
(Name) Wouldn't see what hit him.
"So, where do you feel most comfortable? This is about you" Asmodeus asked the Omega who fiddled with his hands and looked at his nest and his bed "would it... Be messy?"
"Only if we're doing it right~" he teased and kissed (name)s forehead "remember, this is what YOU want" he reminded (name) who looked at his bed and then his nest "nest?" He asked softly and Asmodeus smiled "of course, do I have permission to enter your pretty nest?" He asked as (name) got comfortable in it and the smile on (name)s face said a lot as he nodded, Asmodeus moving them so (name) was in his lap "remember what I taught you about safe words?" He asked the Omega who nodded "tell alpha" he commanded gently and smelt the small amount of slick that escaped the omegas body "green means good... Yellow means that I'm not sure and slow down and read is stop" he said confidently as Asmodeus kissed his neck lovingly "such a good boy" he whispered into his ear and smiled when (name) subconsciously bucked his hips, he knew this cutie had a praise kink.
After all, he always wanted to be good for him.
"Now, I'm going to remove your clothes, remember what to do if it gets uncomfortable" he said as he used his magic to make (name)s clothes vanish, the other covering himself shyly "none of that, let me see you" Asmodeus said sweetly as he watched (name) uncover himself and god, was his omega so pretty...
"Now, the first rule of sex is getting comfortable with your own body" Asmodeus explained as he took (name)s hands and moved them across the omegas own body "know what feels good" he pinched (name)s cute nipple before moving their hands lower "and to know what feels /great/" the demon wrapped their hands around (name)s cute Omegan cock that was already erect and gave it a tug, watching (name) throw his head back at the sensation "o-oh!" He was confused and awe struck by the sensation, this was way better than the pillow humping he had been pitifully been doing lately. "This is your pretty cock, stroke it, play with its head... It's yours to use whenever you want~" Asmodeus explained and (name) let out a shaky breath as they stroked his cock, legs spread across Asmodeus' own "and if we go lower, we have your ass" he whispered to (name) and smiled at how fucked out (name) looked already and they barely started "you gotta prep yourself real nice, slowly work your way in..."
(Name) Whined out as Asmodeus chuckled "none of that, pretty boy" he whispered as he pulled (name) into a sweet kiss, slipping his tongue in shortly after as he helped (name) loosen up with both of their fingers though Asmodeus was just guiding. "When you feel it's loose enough, slowly push in... Don't worry the slick will help you" he pulled away to continue his lesson with his omega who was already drooling and unfocused as Asmodeus gently helped him push in "all the way to the knuckle...~"
Asmodeus helped (name) fuck himself in one finger before slowly introducing a second finger, (name) could feel his erection on his back and rutted into it as his hips shook, his fingers felt good but not good enough... "It's not..." He couldn't figure out how to say it as Asmodeus kissed his scent gland "it's not what darling?" "M-more!" He cried out, fully lost in it as he pushed his hips up subconsciously.
"Do you want alpha to take care of you? Show you something great?" Asmodeus asked the other who wnined "what color are you baby?"
"Green!"
"Good boy"
Asmodeus removed (name)s fingers before replacing them with his larger ones, down to the knuckle before his other hand moved to the omegas cock "hey baby.. look at me" (name) complied as Asmodeus began thrusting against his prostate and jerking him off "shiaaa!" He could barely keep himself from cumming as he let out a loud cry, cum getting everywhere "and that pleasure button was your prostate... Use that whenever your heart desires ~ rub it and press it~" he said softly as (name) barely could stay awake "you wanna continue baby? Tell alpha"
"Gu-reen" he barely could sputter out and Asmodeus chuckled "you're too precious~ let's wash you up and feed you" he lifted (name) with ease and took him to the ensuite washroom "you did do good, you were so pretty~" he praised the Omega who was putty in his hold, (name) definitely bad a lot of time to make up for with how repressed the poor thing was sexually...
The other brothers stroked themselves vigorously as they heard the sounds of (name) being pleasured and inevitable climax that had the Omega screaming.
"He's fast asleep, poor thing wanted more but could barely stay awake" Asmodeus said fondly as the others gathered in the parlor "hes definitely eager, loves to be a good boy ~" the smell of a pleasured Omega was strong, the smell of (pharamones smell) stronger and sweeter "before I put him to bed, he asked if you guys could join next time ~ such a sweet little thing"
He definitely was going to be a good dam to their respective pups.
The other alphas were definitely interested in joining next time.
With the news of the wedding approaching, the men were taking even more precautions and safety measures for the Omega, already having three poisoning attempts and an assassin that they apprehended while (name) was sleeping.
Switching their cutlery to silver from gold and both the food tester and Beelzebub to test (name)s food, the demon immune thankfully as the rest.
At most he would just have a stomach ache for an hour.
It was intense, the men constantly worrying for him as he went about his day with more guards much to his confusion as the days ticked closer, the grand wedding hall being decorated along with the rest of the palace as guests from around the world began arriving as he took a walk through the gardens, the demons having (name)s favorite flowers planted as he was the one who frequented the area the most.
currently he was trying to find Lucifer, the demon wanting to have tea with him but (name) was a bit directionally challenged as he eventually spotted horns and black hair "you're late" Lucifer remarked without any bite as he stood for the Omega, checking him over "I have something for you" the demon didn't waste time as he pulled out the collar "it's not safe to be unprotected like this" his words simple as (name) looked at the collar.
His family never let him have one, a form of control he supposed and he couldn't stop the tears from rolling down his cheeks as the demon looked worried "do you not like it?" His voice laced with light panic and (name) shook his head "i-i never had one??" His voice confused but soon Lucifer clicked the situation together and smiled "I will never let you go without, my love" he gently put the collar on (name), the Omega dressing in more lace and delicate clothes these days as Asmodeus had a fixation on shopping for him, it went together quite well "beautiful..."
"You think?" (Name) Asked nervously and Lucifer leaned down and kissed him "we'll get you countless collars in any color you want" he said honestly before leading (name) to the garden table with treats and tea set up "now, shall we eat?"
(Name) Was curious as he was handed a letter from his family, his father's seal in wax staring back at him.He didn't know what to do, this would be the first time in over a month that he would be hearing from his family.
He didn't know what to expect.
"Are you alright, Darling?" That was also a few development with the demons, pet names.
And Satan surprisingly besides Asmodeus was very heavy with them.
"I... I received a letter from my family" Satan was immediately suspicious of this letter as he walked to his omega "do you trust me?" He asked the Omega who nodded obediently "of course" he chirped "could I see this letter? To soothe my nerves" (name) knew of the things that have been happening and nodded, handing him the letter without a second thought and the blond gently kissed him "thank you, my dear"
He had the two poison testers open the letter in a glass room, something their grandfather made when people began putting poisonous powder in letters, it wasn't poisoned thankfully.
That would make for an angry Satan :).
But the contents of the letter?
Oh.
Ohohoho.
That made for him to get so upset he transformed a little more demonic from rage.
'(name),
We have been informed by our neighbors about your wedding, a surprise to us all as you haven't even sent your family an invitation seeing as you stole your sisters moment and flaunted it infront of her.
We are thoroughly disappointed and appalled at your attitude and would expect you to invite your sister as she deserves to see the life you stole from her even just once.
We are expecting an invite promptly.
(Mother's name) And (father's name), (lastname)'
The audacity.
The sheer audacity of these people, how did (name) manage to be related to these insects of people?! "definitely not letting Belphegor read this" or maybe he should... No (name) would be upset.
"Maybe we should invite them... One last look at someone they took for granted" and before they kept (name) away forever.
Give him everything and more.
God he couldn't wait to give that cute Omega who was currently petting one of the off duty p
681 notes · View notes
heartsandhischier · 21 days
Text
"You slept with who?"
nico hischier x reader
summary - 1.5k words. trying to escape an awkward encounter after a one night stand, emphasise on trying
author's note - in my head nico is such a sweetheart no matter the situation, and NO ONE can tell me otherwise. i will protect this man with my life!
warnings - slight reference to the devils tango (ig), swearing
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As the morning sun tiptoed through the parted curtains, it painted the room in a soft glow, awaking you from a restless slumber. A throbbing headache served as your unwelcome alarm, joining forces with the sunlight to assault your senses. You pulled the covers over your head, seeking refuge from the discomfort, suddenly hit by an unfamiliar scent – cologne. With a jolt, you sat up, struggling to pry your heavy eyelids apart as you looked around the room. This wasn’t your bedroom.
Where the fuck am I?
Alone in the unfamiliar bed, you took a moment, attempting to piece together the puzzle of your surroundings. The room was clean, neat, the owner clearly a tidy person. Despite the overall cleanliness, scattered trinkets and personal belongings were scattered along the space, giving it a sense of lived-in comfort – a curated chaos. 
Your breath caught in your throat as your gaze fell upon the floor, a scattered array of clothing formed a path from the bedroom door to the bed. With a hesitant rise from the mattress, a sudden realization washed over you – you were completely naked.
Remnants of the previous streamed through your mind. Recollections of hitting the club with your girlfriends flooded back, the taste of margaritas still lingering on your lips. The thumping bass and flashing lights of the club replayed in your mind, each memory accompanied by the relentless pounding in your head.
As your feet met the floor, your head pulsed with every beat, you had to get out of here. This wasn’t your typical scene – you weren’t accustomed to waking up in unfamiliar beds after nights of festivities. And when these rare occurrences did happen, you never stayed long, avoiding any potential awkward encounters with one-night stands. Hastily you collected your belongings, attempting to look just a bit more presentable as you assessed your disheveled reflection in the full-length mirror. Panic set in as you realized your heels were missing – likely abandoned somewhere in the entrance hallway.
You peeked your head past the bedroom door, checking if the coast was clear. No one in sight. You kept your head low as you tiptoed along the corridor. Your heart raced with each step, the uncertainty of encountering the apartment’s owner weighing down on your consciousness. Lost in your haste, a collision abruptly halted your escape.
Fuck
As water splattered and your belongings scattered across the floor, the jarring sound of shattering glass pierced your ears. Before your bare feet could melt into the broken shards, a pair of strong arms caught you, preventing a painful misstep. A heavy silence settled over the room as you couldn’t bear to meet the eyes of the stranger. “Are you okay?” His voice was thick with an accent you couldn’t quite pinpoint, breaking through the tension. Unable to muster a response, you offered a timid apology, keeping your eyes trained on the floor as you began to gather your scattered belongings. Finally standing upright, you mustered the strength to meet the stranger’s gaze. Warm brown eyes met yours, framed by a freshly-trimmed beard and tousled brown locks – a picture of effortless charm, even in the disarray of early morning wakefulness.
You were lost in his eyes for a moment. He must have noticed as he let out a small chuckle, “I’m sorry for ruining your escape. I was just trying to get you a glass of water.” he explained with a soft smile, gesturing toward the now-spilled contents polled on the floor amidst the shattered glass. 
Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment as you watched him bend down to collect the scattered glass. It seemed like a series of unfortunate events had led you to this moment – waking up in a stranger’s apartment, breaking a glass meant for you during your escape, and now, standing awkwardly as he cleaned up your mess. What made it even worse was that you didn’t even know his name. 
An uneasy silence hung in the air as he continued to tidy up. "So... last night was fun?" his smile genuine despite the situation. You could only manage a sheepish smile and a polite nod in response, feeling utterly mortified. He chuckled at your response, tossing the broken glass into the trash.
Once he finished cleaning up, he approached you again with a fresh glass of water in hand. Dressed in a black t-shirt neatly tucked into a pair of gym shorts, you couldn’t help but notice the definition of his muscles peeking through the fabric. You politely accepted the glass of water with trembling hands. Taking a hesitant sip, the cool water provided some relief to your throbbing headache.
His laughter broke through the tension as he observed your state. “You don’t remember my name, do you?” he teased, causing your cheeks to flush even deeper. You stammered out an awkward apology, feeling like you couldn’t sink any lower in embarrassment. 
“It’s alright, happens to the best of us,” he reassured you, his voice gentle and understanding. “Since it seems we’re both in need of a little memory jog, how about we start fresh? Hi I’m Nico,” he introduced himself with a mock bow. 
You felt a smile tug at your lips, appreciating Nico’s effort to lighten the mood – definitely not the reaction you’d expected after the awkwardness of being caught trying to escape his apartment. “Nice to meet you Nico, I am Y/N,” you gave him a small courtesy, mirroring his playfulness. His laughter was infectious, melting away the tension that had gripped you moments before. It was amazing how quickly his easygoing demeanor put you at ease.
“I would’ve offered you breakfast, but I have to head out to practice,” Nico explained with a smile, his warm brown eyes meeting yours. “Early morning practice after a night out, wow, you’re a fighter,” you teased, genuinely impressed by his dedication given your own current state. 
"Well, gotta do what you gotta do when you're captain," he replied with a grin, slinging his bag over his shoulder. "But I can offer you a ride home on the way.”
-
“YOU SLEPT WITH NICO HISCHIER?!” Sarah’s voice was a mixture of shock and excitement, drawing the attention of nearby patrons in the cafe. You hastily gestured for her to lower her voice, feeling a flush of embarrassment creeping up your cheeks.
Sarah’s hand shot to her mouth covering it, quickly scanning her surroundings she leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. “You slept with Nico Hischier!?” her eyes were wide with excitement, barely able to contain herself.
“I didn’t know!” you chuckled, shrugging in amusement. “Yeah, that’s because you’re boring and don’t watch sports!” Sarah teased. “He’s literally the captain of the New Jersey Devils!” Sarah exclaimed, her arms waving around excitedly. 
“How was it? Was it good?” Sarah fired off questions, her curiosity barely giving you enough time to answer. You laughed, trying to keep up with her rapid-fire interrogation. “You tell me,” you replied, taking a sip of your coffee. “I don’t remember, I mean, I didn’t even remember his name!”
Sarah’s eyes widened in realization. “You have to meet him again,” she urged, the sudden weight of missed opportunity sinking in. You groaned – you didn’t get his number. With a defeated sigh, you explained the predicament to Sarah.
“We’ll just have to go back to the club. tonight. “
-
The club pulsed with energy, red lights casting an enticing glow over the throngs of dancing bodies. Sarah and the girls were lost in the music, their laughter mingling with the bass thumping through the air. Despite their best efforts to drag you to the dancefloor, your attention remained divided, your gaze drifting to the entrance in hopes of spotting those familiar brown eyes.
It was a long shot, you knew, but it was worth trying. Why hadn’t you thought of exchanging numbers? You sighed, taking a sip of your amaretto sour. Amidst the chaos of the club, your purse buzzed incessantly, drawing you out of your thoughts. Fishing out your phone, you were met with an unknown number flashing on the screen. Normally, you wouldn't answer such calls, but tonight, emboldened by the alcohol coursing through your veins, you pressed the phone to your ear.
“Hello?” you shouted into the phone, hoping to be heard above the chaos of the club.
“I can see you're looking for me,” the voice on the other end replied, laced with the same thick accent. Your head snapped up, scanning the club for the source of the voice. And there he was, standing by a table surrounded by a group of guys you could only make out to be his teammates. His warm brown eyes locked onto yours, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he gave you a small wave. A surge of relief and excitement washed over you as you realized you hadn’t lost your chance after all. You couldn’t help but smile, you probably exchanged numbers during your drunken encounter, lucky for you. 
With a grin plastered on your face, you made your way through the pulsating crowd. The warmth of his presence drawing you closer, as the pulsating rhythm of the club faded into the background.
“Hey stranger,” you playfully smiled. “Ready for round two?”
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birdybirdnerd · 2 years
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someone needs to lock down my fate docs so i cant access them and write it instead of somewhere else, which is supposed to update day after tomorrow and which is only a third done. fuck
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troublesomesnitch · 4 months
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Modern Aemond - Breeding Kink
Modern!Aemond x Reader
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You and Aemond explore his breeding kink for the first time.
Quick smut drabble because I was in a dirty mood and wanted to practice some things!
Contents: modern AU, foreplay only, breeding kink, pregnancy kink, dirty talk. Porn with zero plot.
Warnings: this is heavy on the kinks, we're getting a little fetishy in here.
Words: 1200
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You have only just rinsed off the last dish in the sink when Aemond rises from his chair and comes to stand behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing his chest to your back. 
He did offer to help you with the post-dinner cleanup, but you refused like you always do - you like things done your way, and Aemond likes them done his way, and unfortunately your preferred approaches are often in conflict. 
And besides, you wanted him to watch you. You wanted him to come and embrace you exactly like this. 
He brushes his lips against the back of your neck, from your shoulder and all the way to your ear, pressing a lingering kiss to the delicate skin behind it. His touch is gentle, but the intent is clear, and it makes you giddy with excitement. For obvious reasons, but also because you have something special planned for tonight. 
Since the first time you slept with Aemond, you have known about this little kink of his. It is not very subtle - he loves to kiss your chest and stomach, he loves your breasts, he loves when you tell him to come inside of you. But he has never spoken about it, and neither have you. Aemond is not the sort of man who will happily tell you all about his dirty fantasies. He is much too buttoned up for that; too proud and reserved. 
So you must proceed with caution. 
“Touch me,” you sigh, smiling to yourself when Aemond does exactly as you expected, sliding his hand down your thigh and in between your legs. You are damp there already, and he gives a hum of appreciation, but he’ll have to wait a little longer before you get to that part.
"No -" you bite your lip, and your hand comes to rest on top of his, moving it higher until it's on your stomach instead. Right where it’s soft and rounded. "Touch me here."
He hesitates, not quite catching your drift, or maybe he doesn’t want to catch it. But you guide his hand over your belly, letting him feel where it curves, the softness of it, the little bump of protective fat that you spent your teenage years despairing over. 
It feels very taboo to be touched in such a way, and your heart beats fast when you look back at him over your shoulder. “You like that, don't you? Does it turn you on?”
There’s a slight pause, and Aemond presses his forehead to your hair before he answers with a reluctant yes.
"I like it too," you whisper, letting your head fall back against his chest. "I like to imagine it - being pregnant with your child - being all round and heavy..."
Aemond gives the softest moan, right in your ear, and he holds you tight against his body, his cock growing hard against your backside.
Oh he likes it, alright. He likes it a lot.
“Say that again,” he breathes, hoarse and husky. “Tell me you want to be heavy with my child.”
“I want to be heavy with your child -” you wiggle against his crotch, drawing another little gasp from him. “I want you to fuck a baby into me - fill me with your cum -”
You blush at your own words, and Aemond stifles a groan. His hips move slowly against you, rubbing his stiff cock against your bottom, and his hand keeps stroking you even without your own to guide it. Moving in little circles over your stomach, pretending that you’re already full of him. 
Your lips part, and you turn your neck around as best as you can, desperate for a kiss. It is an awkward angle, and even more so because Aemond has a fair bit of height on you, but you tilt your face up, and he bends his face down, and you meet somewhere in the middle. Except he doesn't kiss you, not really. Rather, he brushes his lips against yours, so slowly, teasing you with soft and delicate touches. No open mouths, no tongue. Just the feel of his warm, wet lips, and when you reach up for more, he draws back.
"Kiss me -" you beg, but Aemond shakes his head, and his arm around your waist holds you firmly in place.
“How do you want me to fuck you?” he breathes.
He loves it when you say filthy things. It gets him so hard, drives him mad with need. But he is making it difficult for you now, with the way he's holding you, the way he’s thrusting up against your arse. You can barely form a coherent thought, let alone a whole sentence.  
“Gently,” you manage. “I want you to be gentle - I want you to make love to me.”
“I can do that,” he whispers, brushing his nose against your hair, dipping lower to nibble at your ear. 
“And - oh - I want you to come inside of me - want you to empty your balls right into my womb -”
Aemond moans loudly at that, much too aroused now to feel self-conscious about anything. He touches you with both hands, gently and intimately, caressing the curve of your stomach and rubbing his palms over your soft little belly. Savouring how warm you are, how smooth and lovely. Perfectly ripe for what he’d like to put in you. 
“I want you to imagine it,” you breathe, every bit as turned on as he is. “I'd be pregnant, and you would touch me like you're doing now, and feel my belly all full and round, and my tits too -”
“Fuck,” Aemond groans, and his hips jerk against you. “Oh - fuck.”
He turns you around to face him and easily lifts you onto the kitchen counter, so he can lean down to kiss you. Properly, finally. You whimper when his tongue slides against yours, and you slip your hand down to stroke the hard bulge in his pants, squeezing it firmly before you undo his zipper and wrap your fingers around his cock. 
The tip of it is wet with precum, and you spread the fluid over his shaft before you begin to stroke him in earnest, dragging his foreskin up and down at a steady pace; tightening your grip as the filthiest words spill from your lips. 
Do you want to get me pregnant, Aemond? Do you want to feel my little wet cunt? Do you want to spurt your hot seed inside me?
“Stop -” he pants. “You'll make me come -”
“I want you to be close,” you coo, still stroking him, although you do slow down the pace. “I want your cock so hard, and your balls full of cum - big and heavy with it, so you can breed me properly -”
“Stop,” Aemond hisses, and his fingers close around your wrist, gripping it so tight that it hurts. His eyes are dark, and his voice is low and with that hint of a temper that excites you more than it probably should. You like that he’s a little moody. Volatile, even. 
“I want you,” you mewl, wrapping your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist, desperate to feel him closer. “Call me something bad, call me a slut -”
“You are a slut,” he whispers in between kisses. “You’re my dirty little slut - my filthy little whore -”
You moan in response, and there’s a playful look on your face when you pull back and look up at him through your eyelashes.
“We should practice - making a baby…” 
“Yes,” Aemond says with the most devastating smirk. “We should.”
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Tagging: @arcielee @helaelaemond
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leviscrybaby · 1 year
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The Demon Brothers finding MC asleep in various places around the House of Lamentations and moving them to bed.
I feel like you can 100% tell who my favourite brother is here (if my url doesn't give it away lol)... sorry if it's a little repetitive.
Lucifer
The last thing Lucifer expected when he walked into his study was to find you, curled up on one of the chairs by the fireplace, fast asleep. You were still in your RAD uniform, and were it not for the serene look on your face, he’d be worried about it creasing.
You’d been having a rough time of things lately, there were one or two subjects you were struggling with, but somehow you were keeping on top of things at RAD. Your homework was always submitted on time and your grades, while not stellar by a demon's standards, were still very good, considering you’d never studied these subjects before.
You must have been exhausted.
Still, it was hardly appropriate, nor could it possibly be good for your body to sleep here, all scrunched up in that chair. He should wake you and send you off to bed, but your sleeping face was so sweet, he just couldn’t find it in him to disturb you.
Instead, he crouched down in front of you, gently tucking his arms around your shoulders and behind your knees and lifting you up.
What he should have done, was carry you to your own room. But, his was so much closer, he reasoned, and with the pile of papers on his desk, it’s not like he was going to be using his bed any time soon. And, even if it was just to himself, he had to admit, the thought of you spending the night in his bed filled him with a comfortable warmth, regardless of whether or not he was there to hold you as you slept.
With his mind made up, he carried you into his room, pushing back the covers with his foot before placing you ever so gently upon the mattress, and covering your sleeping form. He gave your head a few soft strokes, before leaning down and pressing a kiss to your cheek.
“Sleep well, my love.”
Mammon
Mammon was so used to waltzing into the common room and vaulting the couch before dropping himself onto it without needing to check for sleeping humans, that he very nearly landed right on top of you. Sure, he might have to be vigilant of a sleeping Belphie, but if his brother didn’t want to be sat on, maybe he shouldn’t sleep on the couches in the common room. You, on the other hand, he was a little more worried about crushing.
“What’cha think you’re doing, sleeping here?” he grumbled at you, folding his arms as he plopped down on the opposite couch.
You, being asleep, didn’t answer him, opting instead to groan and turn over, facing the back of the couch.
“Oi, don’t ignore me!” Mammon snapped, his voice raised just slightly. He frowned when you gave another disgruntled groan, curling in on yourself.
He should wake you. Shouldn’t he? Sleeping there couldn’t be good for you, even with the fireplace lit it wasn’t exactly the warmest room in the house, you might catch a chill, and then what would happen? Humans are so weak, after all. Can’t they die from being cold?
But you looked so peaceful, and he didn’t want to risk upsetting you by shaking you awake.
Okay, maybe he didn’t want to wake you. I mean, you were tired enough to fall asleep in the common room, so it would just be rude to wake you, wouldn’t it? Besides, you looked happy and comfortable, and waking you would just bother you, and maybe you wouldn’t be able to get back to sleep, then you’d just complain about it to him, and that’s too much hassle right now.
But he definitely couldn’t leave you here where anyone could just wander in and see your adorable sleeping face. Err, I mean, anyone could just wander in and disrupt your nap.
Maybe he should just take you to your room? It’s the best place for you right now, after all. Ah, but any moment now, he could almost guarantee one of his brothers would be around to demand your attention. You were too tired to deal with that.
Then, it was decided, he’d take you somewhere where you’d be able to get some decent sleep. That place being, of course, his room. It’s not possessiveness, he just knows that no ones likely to bother you there!
Lifting you into his arms with your own arms over his shoulders, he manoeuvred his way through the halls, taking special care to avoid anyone he may encounter. Once he reached his room, he faced the real challenge. Those damn stairs. Honestly, he’d always thought having stairs down into his room was pretty sick, and never factored in the possibility of having to carry an unconscious human down them.
He took careful steps, keeping you clutched close as he very slowly descended into his room. It took longer than he’d have ideally liked, but eventually, he had his feet on the floor of his room and he could lower you onto his bed, expecting you to relax against the soft mattress, which you did. What he didn’t expect, is that you wouldn’t let him go!
Now he was stuck, hovering awkwardly above you with your arms holding him in place. Shit, this was gonna look really bad if you woke up.
As gently as he could so as not to wake you, he began trying to pry your arms off him, eventually managing to de-tangle himself from you with a sigh. “You’re gonna be the death of me, y’know,” he grumbled, gently brushing your hair out of your face with a fond smile.
“G’night, ya nightmare.”
Leviathan
“I’m home,” called Levi, tightly clutching an Anidaemon bag to his chest as the front doors closed behind him. Honestly, he was glad in-store only releases were getting rarer. Going out was too much of a hassle, people were too loud and it was impossible to talk to anyone without ending up a stuttering mess. Still, he had to keep telling himself it was worth it for Ruri-chan.
He moved into the house, ready to put the day behind him, when he spotted you, stretched out on the couch that sat in the entry hall, sleeping soundly. What were you doing there? Why was there a couch in the entry hall anyway? Who sits in the entry hall?
Now, Levi was faced with a dilemma. On the one hand, he wanted to be your dependable senpai, and part of that was taking good care of his cute kohai and putting them to bed when they fell asleep in the entry hall like a dork. On the other hand, his mind was screaming no, don’t touch them, leave them alone, that's creepy!
Although, he only wanted to help. I mean, surely it can’t be good for you to sleep here? It’s pretty breezy, and there’s probably people coming back and forth a lot, so you can’t be getting any level of quality sleep. You’d understand him wanting to help, right? You wouldn’t hate him for moving you? For picking you up?
The obvious answer was just to wake you up so you could walk to bed yourself, but just as he lay a hand on your shoulder, he hesitated. No. He couldn’t do that. Just look at you, looking so cosy despite the draft from the door. You just looked too cute, he couldn’t wake you.
So, he was back to square one. It looked like the only option he had was to move you himself.
You wouldn’t be mad, would you? It’s not like he’s moving you for some weird or gross reason, he just wants you to be comfortable and safe, and the entry hall is not the place to accomplish that. He’d just have to move you to your room.
Yup, he’d just have to pick you up, and move you… Just have to pick you up…
Nope, couldn’t do it! He couldn’t just… I mean, it’s weird, right? Even with the best of intentions, just picking you up like that… He’d have to touch you, and you’d probably hate that, wouldn’t you? And what if he dropped you, or bumped you against something, or someone saw him carrying you and assumed… Ugh, no, it couldn’t be done! You’d just have to stay there. Sorry.
But… it did get awfully chilly in the entryway, and humans got sick so easily, it was cruel to just leave you there… Or, maybe he could get you a blanket or something?
No, no, no. Then, you’d be covered and warm, but you’d still be in the entry hall, where anyone could disturb you. The only option he had left was to… to pick you up and… and move you…
Mustering all his courage, Levi hung his Anidaemon bag on his arm, moving it up into the crook of his elbow, before crouching down. Okay… he was really gonna do this… and you can’t be mad at him…
Slowly, he eased his arms under your sleeping body and gently lifted you, holding most of your weight against his chest. “Ohhh, don’t drop them, don’t drop them, don’t drop them,” he muttered, clutching you as tightly as he could. Honestly, if his muttering didn’t wake you, his shaking might.
Now, he just needed to move you as carefully and as quickly as possible…
He did, very briefly, think about taking you to his room so you could get some more sleep – no one would look for you in his room, after all – but quickly quashed that idea. Absolutely not! He felt creepy enough moving you at all, he wasn’t about to hide you away in his bedroom like some creepy yandere.
Levi shook his head with a frustrated groan, and started towards your room. When he arrived, he struggled with the door for a while before finally managing to get it open and hurrying inside, kicking it closed behind him.
As gently and as quickly as he could, he placed you on the unmade bed and pulled the covers over you.
With a soft sigh, you stirred, stretching your body before curling yourself into the downy bed.
Levi smiled, watching as that sweet, peaceful look settled on your face. Would you be mad if he… No, he couldn’t! No matter how much he wanted to kiss you right now, he physically couldn’t. It was just too much. Besides, did he really want you to be asleep the first time he did that? No, instead, he settled for gently brushing his thumb over your cheek.
“Sweet dreams, Henry.”
Satan
It wasn’t the first time Satan has found you asleep in the library, nor did he suspect it would be the last. He had to admit, it always made him feel a little warmer inside to see you curled up with a book on your chest, particularly if it was one he had recommended.
Today was no different. You were sat in your favourite chair by the fire, with your legs tucked beneath you and a blanket over your lap. You neck was at an angle that Satan was sure couldn’t be comfortable, with half a cup of tea waiting on the coffee table, cold as ice by now.
Kneeling down in front of you, Satan gently pried the book out of your hands, marking your page with your bookmark and placing it on the coffee table. He removed the blanket from you and folded it over his shoulder, before scooping you up into his arms. As he moved passed the coffee table, he caught sight of the half empty cup. He probably should take it out to the kitchen, but you were his priority right now. Besides, as petty as it was, a cold, half empty coffee cup left in the library was sure to rub Lucifer the wrong way.
As previously mentioned, Satan had found you this way many times before, and each time he’d done the same thing, carrying you to your room and tucking you into bed. Initially, he’d intended to tuck you into his bed, but when faced with the cluttered and hazardous reality that was his room, he decided it would be best to put you somewhere where you were less likely to be buried in a book avalanche.
He carried you, as planned, to your bedroom. He placed you down on your neatly made bed, pulling the blanket from over his shoulder and laying it over your sleeping body.
Part of him wished to join you, but he restrained himself, knowing how disorienting it would have been for you to wake up, not only in a different room, but with him at your side. He gently stroked your arm, before tucking the thin blanket further around you.
“Enjoy your nap, kitten.”
Asmodeus
When you invited him to a small picnic in the garden, just the two of you, Asmodeus was already planning how he’d arrange all the photos he was going to take on his Devilgram. He was thinking maybe scenery shots first, then pictures of the snacks you’d prepared, then selfies.
He was really looking forward to spending some quiet time with you, eating some sweet snacks and taking some good selfies. However, when he joined you in the garden, he found you curled up on the picnic blanket, sleeping soundly with petals from the surrounding flowerbed in your hair.
You looked so sweet, and so… aesthetic… Part of him wanted to take a picture of you like this, asleep among the flowers, looking downright ethereal. He didn’t know if he’d even want to post it to Devilgram – he knows his followers would adore it, but he wanted to keep this sight for himself.
He didn’t take the picture. As much as he wanted to capture this moment forever, taking a photo of you when you were asleep and vulnerable was a little invasive. He’d just have to hold this moment in his heart, eternally.
At first, he didn’t want to move you. He sat down, cross-legged beside you and just soaked in the peace of the moment. It wasn’t until he lay his hand on your arm that he realised he couldn’t leave you here. You’d grown cold in the chill of the early evening.
“Oh, dear,” he muttered to himself, tucking his DDD into his pocket and easing you into his arms. “Let’s get you somewhere warm, before your skin dries out.”
He carried you into the house and to his room, where he placed you on the bed. He folded the duvet over you, keeping you wrapped up warm. He joined you on the bed and began running his hands through your hair.
It was a shame he wouldn’t get to enjoy the picnic you’d made for the two of you, but spending time with you like this was good, too. And the picnic wasn’t going to go to waste, he’d make sure of it.
Fishing out his DDD, he sent a text to Beelzebub.
'MC and I left in picnic basket in the garden. It’s yours, if you want it.'
The reply was instantaneous.
'I’m on my way. Thank you.'
Asmo locked his DDD, tossing it gently to the foot of the bed, before turning his attention back to you, still sleeping wrapped up in his duvet, warm and cosy.
“Dream about me, my darling.”
Beelzebub
When Beel found you sat at the dining room table with your head in your folded arms, his first instinct was to make sure you’re okay. While he couldn’t hear anything, you did look a bit like you might be crying, and he hated to see you sad.
He lay a hand on your back to try and comfort you, and that’s when he noticed your soft snores. Beneath your folded arms was your Devildom History textbook, your slightly chewed pen resting between your teeth. You must have fallen asleep while studying, he deduced.
He was glad you weren’t upset, and you did look kind of sweet, fast asleep at the dining table like that, but sleeping hunched over like that couldn’t possibly be good for your spine.
Beel was used to finding Belphie asleep in all sorts of positions, and even he got sore after sleeping hunched over like that. Humans were far more delicate than demons, so he just knew your back was going to ache like death if he left you here.
With his hand still on your back, he gently shook you. “MC, you shouldn’t sleep here,” he called, but you just whined quietly and turned your head, tucking your face into the crook of your elbow.
Beel smiled. Yep, that’s exactly how Belphie would have responded, too.
Alright then, if he couldn’t wake you, Beel reasoned that he’d just have to move you himself. Ever so slowly, he eased the chair out just enough for him to wrap his arms around you, taking great care not to let you fall as he gently lifted you up, your head resting on his shoulder. Balancing you on one arm, he closed your Devildom History book and notebook, dropped your pen beck into your pencil case and tucked the three under his arm.
Beel wrapped his arm back around you and carried you through the corridor and into your bedroom, where he placed you gently on your bed before moving to leave your things on your desk. As he moved back over to you, he pulled a fleece blanket from the linen basket at the foot of your bed and draped it over you, placing a kiss on your cheek as he tucked it around you.
“See you in the morning, sweetheart.”
Belphegor
A five minute rest had turned into a thirty minute nap, and Belphie was late. Nothing new there, he was often late for this exact reason. But this time, he was late for plans he’d made with you, and that was the only reason he felt guilty about it. You two had planned to meet up in the planetarium twenty minutes ago, not to do anything in particular, but even so, he felt bad that he’d unintentionally stood you up.
“Sorry, MC,” he said as he walked into the room mid-yawn. “I didn’t mean to—” he cut himself off when he opened his eyes, unable to see you. He sighed. You must have gotten bored with waiting for him and gone to find something else to do. Understandable, he guessed, but it still pissed him off. You could have come to wake him up, after all. Anyone else he’d get mad at, but for you (and Beel), it was okay.
He turned to leave the room – might as well go back to sleep now – but stopped when he heard something. It sounded like a soft whine, and it was definitely your voice. He turned back around and scanned the room once more, finding you stretched out on the floor of the planetarium, fast asleep.
He smiled. At least you’d both been asleep, he supposed.
He knelt down beside you, dropping his pillow just above your head before gently looping an arm beneath your shoulders and lifting you just enough to slide the pillow under your head, and laying you back down.
Leaving one arm under you, he settled down beside you, holding you close as he pressed a kiss to the very tip of your nose.
“I’ll see you in my dreams, starlight.”
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m0chisenpai · 11 months
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Let's Play a Little Game
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Post! Spiderman Across the Spiderverse
Obsessive!Prowler!Miles Morales x Spidergirl!Reader
Authors note: THIS READER IS 15. A CHILD. THERE IS NO SMUT. NADA, ZIP, NOTHING. I WILL NOT BE SPICY WRITING A SINGLE THING FOR ANYTHING INVOLVING MILES MORALES.
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You’d fought villains twice your size. A crazy octopus with metal tentacles, a man double your size, covered in black spots. Petty criminals brandishing jagged knives. But why was this one so different? He was no different was he? 
He was gruff. His body was always rigid, his words were sharp. His eyes were sharp. But the one thing you took notice, how manipulative he was. How he could weasel into the mind, into the minds of men twice his age who did his most dirty work. 
You had to pretend. Pretend his syrupy sweet words were true till your hero came. Your lovebug. 
His eyes cut to yours as the record scratched to silence in the hideout. Your eyes crack open, he now crouched in front of you. His braids fell to the side. You braided them for him last night. It was the most vulnerable you’d ever seen him. His head lay back on your legs as you massaged his scalp. And for a moment your mind went dark as you held the thin sharp rat tooth comb.
One drive straight to the throat was all it took, then you could be free. But then he opened his eyes. And you couldn’t. Because even if he wasn’t your lovebug. He was an exact copy of him. You were in his world, if his men found it was you that took their leader out they would hunt you down. 
He stared in your eyes as if daring you, testing your new freedom. And so you carefully parted his hair down the middle. That night you passed the first test. 
And now as your sleepy eyes look into his, you remember it’s time. Time for another song and dance. Of playing the part. Another test. 
“Sleepy mi vida?”
You can’t bring yourself to speak up and offer him a tired nod as you curl more into the nook of the couch, the bright knitted blanket stands out like a sore thumb, as do you in all your brightness. A reminder how far from home you are.
“A little bit.” your voice is scratchy, you must have slept for an hour at best. The sun was diving into the horizon painting the sky a beautiful mix of oranges and yellows. You sit up stretching your arms above your head and scooch your body forward. 
“Nah, take your time amor. Didn’t mean to wake you up” his knuckles stroke down to rest under your chin and his thumb to gently pinch it as he looks up at you with that love sick gaze. He leans forward and you know to meet him halfway and press your lips to his.  
He moves back enough to whisper against your lips, “suit up in five, we got business to handle.”
And as he stands to walk to the old player. A soft beat fills the room, your veins as you force yourself to stand. To fight. Your movements are second hand as you don the suit behind a hung up white sheet. You don’t call it yours, Because it's not. Yours is back home. Here he’s created you a new one. 
You step out from behind the sheet and in his eyes he drinks you in as you adjust your web shooters. 
And in some sick way, maybe you had survived in this universe. Had you been bitten? This would have been your suit. It appealed to a different you, a different version of you buried away somewhere.
It was solid black with black webbings along the thighs and pink in the inner parts of the hood along with your jordans which you go to kneel and tie up but he stops you. He kneels before you and ties them. And just as he gazes up at you, you pull your mask down.
This is what keeps you sane. Because here you're free to sneer down at him as he looks up at you. He wears his own suit now. You hold your hand to him and he wraps his around you and pulls himself up, his hand is quick to reach and snake around you, pulling you flushed against him. 
“Deadly and beautiful. The perfect mix” he whispers leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead as he taps the side of his mask to conceal his face. 
He watches you as you leap from the building and send your webbing to a building swinging your body to kneel on top of a light pole. You  look up and catch his nod as he moves forward. And you follow. Swinging languidly through the cool of night.
You realize now as you swing into the dead of night why he’s unlike the villains, the criminals, the mad scientists. Because as he runs alongside you. As he leads you both into the night. His reflection dancing off the glass of a building. As he looks at you. For a moment you think that’s Miles, your Miles, your lovebug. But it’s not.
Instead, you look into the eyes of Miles, the prowler. Harbored on Earth-42. 
And it scares you, because as much as you fight each day, deep down. Somewhere in the dark parts of your heart. Your heart flutters, feels warm for a moment when he holds your gaze, and flashes you that smile. 
And you beg for Miles, Gwen, Miguel, Hobie, anyone to find you. Because you fear that somewhere along the line, you’re no longer going to be pretending. 
That you failed the ultimate test of love.
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miseria-fortes-viros · 6 months
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what if your best friend was annoying. what if he took every opportunity he had to make fun of you. what if he kept trying to pick off your scabs even when you pushed him away. what if you caught him looking at your bruises for too long. what if he hated your girlfriend. what if your best friend took you to a magical place and spoke to the forest. what if you recognized his messy handwriting scratched into a boulder. what if he drove you home. and again. and again.
what if he lingered in the driveway too long and watched your father’s fist land. what if in the time it took you to fall and smash your head on the railing he was there. what if it took three cops to pull him off of your father. what if he snarled like a dog and the look in his eyes was wild but he still managed to check if you were okay while they shoved him in the back of the cop car. what if you finally told them the truth about your father to keep your best friend out of jail.
what if your best friend could take things out of his head and make them real. what if he almost never slept because he was afraid of what he would wake up with. what if your best friend went to mass every sunday to apologize to god and he told you the nuns had an apartment they would rent to you for cheap. what if it was cold and cramped and bare but for the first time you slept somewhere without fear. what if your best friend knocked on your door most nights and slept on your floor. what if you thought it was because he knew you kept a gun somewhere and you didn’t want to think about what else it might mean.
what if your best friend started hanging out with someone awful. what if he stayed out all night racing and drinking and doing god knows what with this guy. what if you wanted him dead. what if you had a hand in his death. what if you couldn’t bring yourself to feel bad about it because your best friend was safe sleeping on your floor again. what if your best friend asked you for help. what if he took you back to the church and you could just imagine him in there with his family before it broke. what if he closed his eyes and turned ideas tangible in one of the pews and you thought maybe there were two gods in this church. what if he looked at you like he thought there were three. what if the nightmares got him. what if your best friend bled out on the floor while you held him and panicked. what if you watched him take his last breath. what if you looked up and he was watching you cradle his head from where he sat on the altar. what if the scope of his power hit you just then. what if he told you to leave and you did. what if you let him dispose of his own corpse alone. what if you sat on your bed unable to stop thinking about the blood dripping from his mouth.
what if once you started noticing the curve of his lips and the cut of his cheekbones you couldn’t stop. what if you’d never truly felt safe in your life except when he was with you. what if your best friend was tall and strong and sharp and cruel and he made you smile like nobody else could. what if you were quiet and calculating but he made you loud and reckless. what if he radiated danger but you trusted no one else to walk behind you. what if everyone else kept forgetting which ear your father deafened you in but your best friend always remembered.
what if you went up to his childhood bedroom at the house where his father died and looked at all of his old things. what if you sat on his bed and thought about all the times he must have woken up staring death in the face. what if you looked up and he was standing in the doorway. what if he came over and sat beside you. what if there were bad memories here but also good ones. what if when he finally kissed you he did it slowly and carefully like he knew he was devilishly handsome at best and terrifying at worst. what if his big strong hands held you like he thought you might fall apart and you couldn’t remember the last time someone had touched you so softly. what if he left after that because he knew you would have a lot to think about. what if you went back to him that night and kissed him like you were starving for it. what if the second room you slept in without fear was also the second room your best friend had given you.
what if something demonic invaded your body. what if it used your eyes to spy and your hands to manipulate. what if the most important thing in the world was your autonomy. what if the demon knew it and made you sit helplessly as it stole it from you. what if it let you see just enough. what if your hands closed around your best friend’s throat and there was nothing you could do to stop them. what if you begged him to fight back. what if he just kept looking at you even as his lips turned blue. what if his hands still held you with love even while he was dying in yours.
what if the demon released you. what if you couldn’t stand by yourself. what if your best friend kept you up. what if you fell back against his chest and his arms kept you from falling and he whispered in your good ear something meant only for you and you gave in and began to cry. what if the bruises circled his neck for weeks. what if you could see the shape of your thumbs on his throat and couldn’t bear to look at it. what if you wouldn’t blame him if he never wanted you near him again. what if he kissed your fingers instead.
what if you thought you never wanted love or a home or a family. what if your best friend gave you all three. what if you woke up with his arms around you in the house where his father died and he made you breakfast and you laughed over coffee and his little girl gave you sticks and leaves and his bird gave you bottle caps. what if you wanted to go to college but you didn’t want to leave and he wanted you to go but he wanted you to stay. what if nobody had ever wanted you to stay before. what if you never thought you’d have anything worth coming home to. what if you never thought you’d call anywhere home. what if your best friend gave you an apartment. what if he gave you his home. what if he gave you his heart.
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chastiefoul · 1 year
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he said something hurtful
characters: childe & zhongli genre: hurt and comfort wc: 1.4k
Childe
it’s been such a stressful day for the eleventh fatui harbinger. all these paperwork but no place to let out his pent up frustration to; battles. he’s been stuck to the duty for too many days now and when he said it was not going to get to him, perhaps that was overconfidence.
 “here, i made you tea hope it helps you to relax a little,” you said as you put the glass on his desk at a reasonable distance away from his work. he hummed a lazy response as gratitude. you’d learnt not to take these gestures to heart since he’s palpably stressed and you all of people knew that childe is the most loving man you’ve ever been with. “anything else i can do for you?” you asked, genuinely wanted to assist him in any way you could. he just shook his head, “it’s fine,” he said curtly.
“massages? back rubs? need me to get anything from somewhere?” you tried again, seeing his not so good expression at a particular part of the paper he’s looking at, wanting to at least ease him a little.
“gods, (y/n),” he said with the most exasperated tone that it made you a little nervous. “can you be quiet for a second? what the hell do you think you can do for me?”
you gasped quietly at the outburst and childe regretted the words as soon as it came out from his mouth. “(y/n), baby i’m sorry i didn’t mean th-“ but you quickly cut him off, wanting to get out of the room as soon you can. “i’ll just leave,” you whimpered, voice clearly holding back tears. at this childe’s heart twinged with even more guilt, he swiftly chased you and brought you close to his chest. “i’m sorry, that was stupid and horrible of me, sorry (y/n),” he repeated the apologies as he rubbed circles on your back. you held back a sob yet to no avail tears still fell to his shoulder. “i just wanted to help,” you mumbled. “i know and you do, my baby always does the best things for me,” he kept you in his hold as he planted kisses on your forehead. “i always worry over you, childe. if i bother you i wish you could’ve just tell me nicely.”
“i’m sorry, i took out my frustration on you, ‘m sorry baby. won’t happen again, i promise. please don’t leave.” childe’s hold on you got tighter, he wished he could turn back time and hit his past-self for running his mouth like that when you’ve been nothing but kind to him. he brought your face close to his, wiping your tears with his thumbs. you looked at him, the apparent raw regret painted all over his face. “stay? please?”
“mhm, but none of that again, okay? ever,” you warned him. “promise. sorry again, you’re too good to me.” he continued embracing you.
Zhongli
you had promised zhongli to assist him with his work, he asked you to bring over a document from clerk zhao 9 a.m. sharp as it is was a very important task to do. he told you that a few days prior about it saying that he would have no time to do it himself thus asking for your help since there’s nobody in the world he trusted more than you. and of course you were more than happy to do it if it helped him even just a little.
the said day was approaching. you felt that your body was slightly sluggish the night before as you prepared to go to bed yet you thought nothing of it and assumed would get better if you just slept it off, but you were wrong. you woke up feeling extremely sick along with a terrible headache. but that wasn’t your biggest concern, you looked over the clock and its hour hands clearly showed: 9.30 a.m.
with your best ability at your current condition—which was very limited, you quickly forced yourself up and rushed to do the task zhongli has entrusted you in. you were struggling as you arrive at feiyun slope area that even clerk zhao showed concern and asked if you were okay which to you answer that you were just fine, when in fact you were clearly not. yet your bigger worry that minute was getting that document to zhongli as he said that it’s a very important matter and you must not be late. however with such a sick body, you arrived at the wangsheng funeral parlor a little over ten a.m.
you burst open his office, “zhongli, i’m so sor-“
“where were you?” he cut you off rather rudely, and he does not do that. “sorry, i-“ you tried again.
“i had told you that this is a very important matter, yet here you are being carelessly tardy.” his usual gentle tone was nowhere to be found, you found yourself in a very bad state, it took everything out of you to just even stand up right that second and he couldn’t see that. even clerk zhao immediately noticed it. you were not even going to make excuse, you just wanted him to listen. “zhongli, please listen-“
“this was such a mistake. i regret relying on you.” he swiftly took the paper on your hand, his back turned and faced you as he sort out his business on his desk. it wasn’t until he heard a sniffle that he had realized what he just said. mistake. regret.
“dear, i-“
you were already started to leave his office, one of your hand was on the wall supporting your own weight as you felt extremely weak and fatigued from all the running around a sick person should not be doing.
“(y/n), wait please i—you’re very warm!” he claimed loudly as his hand touched your arm. “sweetheart, do you have a fever?” he reached out a hand to feel your forehead but you swatted it away. “it’s nothing, just get back to your work.” you attempted to release yourself, but zhongli had another idea on mind as the former god of rock suddenly carried you to a room where there’s a bed as he lied you there and tucked you in a blanket. you who barely any strength just let him did whatever as you turned your back on him the moment your body touched the bed. the wound from his words still fresh on your mind as you cried. you knew that it was your fault that you’re late, however zhongli acted way out of line. his tone and harsh words were very unfamiliar to you.
zhongli looked at your back as he was eaten away by guilt. if only he could just listen. to think he was very adamant to not listen to you when all you wanted to do was to explain yourself and he said that crap instead which he didn’t mean at all.
he truly meant it when he said he would entrust even his life to you.
zhongli was late on realizing the severe damage he just caused over the harsh words he spouted in the heat of the moment. whatever the reason, he should have not done that, not to anyone, especially not to the love of his life. but in reality was he did.
“love, i apologize.” he knelt beside the bed. when that met no response he continued, “that was very foolish of me. i didn’t know what i was talking about. you’re my whole world, i rely on you the most. how very stupid that i could even have the nerve to say that when i do nothing but lean on you everyday in my life.” his voice heavy with remorse as he hesitantly rubbed your arm, trying to soothe you. “to think i just made my sick lover running around like that... i apologize.”
“i wasn’t trying to make excuses, zhongli. i did not choose to be sick.” your voice was meek, zhongli’s chest squeezed in pain, how could he make you say things like this. “of course not, even with your condition you still did your best for me and i reacted like that, i really deserve your anger.”
he saw that tears still ran across your face and it broke his heart. “dear, please, what i don’t deserve is your tears.” he gently turned you to face him, wiping your tears with his fingertip. you slowly stopped crying as zhongli kept whispering apologies and sweet words. “why don’t you get some rest first? we’ll talk again after you feel better,”  zhongli said softly. you who had no complaint over that only nodded, getting the sleep you’ve desperately needed.
seconds before you fell into your slumber you could feel a kiss on your forehead. “(y/n), i love you very much.”
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eunoiaflow3r · 10 months
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mine - ron weasley x reader
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requests open
taglist
warning(s): language, smut
word count: 1.9k
request(ed): fic where you saw ron and Hermione getting too close so you got mad and he was angry at you and gave you a punishment + Can you do anthor ron fic where the reader got jelly because she saw hermione and ron get close so she ignores him and he gets angry and puts her in her palce
summary: Y/N gets jealous and Ron has his way of reassuring her…characters 17+
—————————————————————
You weren’t even the one to notice it at first. Luna was at your side while you two studied on the lawn. There was a quiz in herbology and you desperately needed her help.
“They seem quite close.” Luna comments. You follow her eyes across the way to see Ron leaning against a pillar and Hermione in front of him holding her books and laughing at a joke he undoubtedly told. He smiled brightly and you watched as she leant out her arm to touch his.
Your heart kind of dropped but then you reminded yourself that they were friends. Just friends, and you didn’t need to worry.
At dinner you sat next to him and he pressed a kiss to your cheek and had his hand on your thigh as you two ate. You talked about your day and everything was pretty normal and you forgot what happened earlier - it became irrelevant, until the next day.
You didn’t see Ron at breakfast…or Hermione. Harry told you that they were in the hall studying for his test and normally it wouldn’t bother you except for the visuals you had of them yesterday. You trusted the both of them, sure, but it didn’t stop an insecurity from growing. You aren’t the type to compare yourself to another girl, but you can admit that his recent actions are hitting some kind of nerve.
———
“Hello Y/N!”
“Hi Y/N!”
Fred and George came over so that you were sat in the middle of them. You were on the couch in the Gryffindor common room writing a letter to your parents.
“Hey George, Fred. What are you guys up to?”
“Bored.” Fred answers.
“Are you doing anything interesting ?” George asks.
“Just writing.” You say.
You talk to them for a while until you all looked towards the portrait as it opened. You heard giggling and waited to see who would come out - Ron and Hermione. They both carried snacks and shared a bag of crisps.
“Hmmm.” Fred hummed.
“Hmmm indeed. They look cozy.” George whispered.
They both got up at the same time and rubbed Ron’s head as they left - probably to cause trouble somewhere. Hermione waved to you before going into her room, and Ron sat in the seat next to you, offering his crisps. You decline and feel yourself become stiff.
“Missed you today.” he says, going in to kiss your neck.
You move slightly so he doesn’t get the chance. “Where were you?”
He looks confused for a second at your movement but doesn’t comment. “With Hermione…and Harry. I’m sorry I’ve been distracted today.”
You hum. “Okay. I’m going to bed.”
“Already? It’s not even late yet.”
“I’m tired Ronald. Goodnight.”
You never called him by his full name but you must admit you were irritated. Yes he’s allowed to spend time with his friends, he doesn’t have to be around you 24/7…but them being so close just made you feel weird.
The next morning you woke up late…barely slept - tossing and turning thinking about Ron and Hermione. It made you sick to your stomach how seeing the two of them made you feel. And how could you even say anything? You would seem like a bad girlfriend if you brought it up. So you wouldn’t.
When you arrived at breakfast you saw Hermione next to Ron and Harry across from Ron. Hermione was stealing food off of Ron’s plate and he would pinch her every time she tried causing her to giggle. You couldn’t watch. It just seemed so flirty to you and you couldn’t stand it.
You decided to sit next to Blaise, as you haven’t caught up with him in a while. Yes he was friends with Draco and Pansy, sworn enemies to your friends but Blaise didn’t care about any of that. You two have been close since childhood. You told him what was troubling you (quiet enough so that Draco and Pansy couldn’t hear) and he told you that your feelings were valid. That Ron seemed good enough but his actions can definitely seem off putting.
———
Across the hall Ron watched as you sat next to Blaise and began to talk. He was aware of yours and his relationship but he didn’t understand why you’d rather sit next to Blaise than him. He was also confused as to why you were late to breakfast and short with him last night. It wasn’t until he saw Blaise whisper something into your ear that made you giggle that made him angry.
“Why is Y/N sitting over there?” Ron asked no one in particular.
Harry turned and saw and so did Hermione.
“That’s strange,” she commented. “I haven’t seen her much at all these past few days actually do you think she’s been with him?”
Ron didn’t like that comment. He wasn’t jealous, no, but it did irk him a bit. He’s been with Hermione and Harry…does that mean she’s been with Blaise?
When he saw you in the hall a few hours later he tried coming up and talking to you but you just gave him a quick look and walked away. That pissed him off. Now he realized what you were doing was intentional. He just couldn’t figure out why.
It happened again during your last class which you conveniently had together - you avoided him. Made sure that you always seemed to be busy in conversation with someone else so that he would look like the asshole if he interrupted. You were being coy and he knew it.
———
You had managed to ignore Ron all day. That was Blaise’a advice. Yes, it was petty, but you were mad. Give him a taste of his own medicine. It hurt because you missed him, and you thought about how this might push Ron towards Hermione more but if Ron didn’t notice your absence then you shouldn’t be together.
You sat in the common room, playing a game with Luna when Ron made his way over.
He leans down so that his lips are next to your ear.
“You’ve been avoiding me.”
You roll your eyes.
“And so what if I have? Didn’t think you’d notice anyway.”
He clenched his jaw and didn’t say anything for a moment. You got nervous but continued your game.
“C’mon, let’s go.”
“I’m playing this -“
“Y/N.”
And that’s all it took. You followed him into his room and watched as he cast a spell to lock the door. You took a seat on his bed and watched as he took his robes off and began loosening his tie.
“So what’s going on?”
“Nothing.” You say.
“Don’t say that. I know it’s something, don’t lie to me.”
You cross your arms and stare at the floor.
“If you can hang out with your…friend…Then I should be able to hang out with mine, right?”
Ron took a moment to thing as he leaned against his dresser so that he was sitting on it. Then it clicked for him. Hermione. Blaise.
He grinned, but you could tell he wasn’t happy.
“So, you see Hermione and I together, and instead of communicating your feelings, you decide to make me jealous and angry by hanging out and flirting with Blaise?”
“I wasn’t trying to - wasn’t trying to make you jealous. I went to him for advice.”
He shakes his head. “What I’m hearing is you don’t trust me. Don’t trust me enough be loyal and respect your, our, boundaries.
I don’t want anyone but you, and I thought we were on the same page. I love you. Don’t want anyone but you, wouldn’t even dare look at anyone else the way I look at you. You should feel comfortable enough to talk to me when you’re feeling some kind of way.”
You were silent. He was right. You should have just talked to him. He would have understood.
“I’m sorry.” You say.
He nods towards his bed. “Undress please.” he comes closer as you do. “Obviously I have to show you to trust me.”
You have to admit, you were excited, but nervous.
He moves you up so that your head was on his pillows and he was in between your legs. He leans down so that his lips were right above yours and waits until you make the first move. You lift your chin up and he kisses you, hard, and passionately. His hand makes his way up to your neck and squeezes gently which makes you moan into his mouth. When he takes his hand away you whine until he pulls away and pulls your arms so that they’re above your head.
He removes his tie and ties your wrists to the headboard.
“Ron, please…”
He knew you loved to touch. Loved your fingers in his hair or on his back, around his neck. He was taking that privilege away and kissing down your neck. He took a moment to take one of your nipples into his mouth while he massaged the other. When he was done, he switched sides until finally he was ready to leave more wet kisses down your body.
When he got to just below your belly button he took his thumb to rub at your clit. You moaned and tried to pull your arms away from the headboard. You wanted to touch, so bad.
“Ron, oh God.” You whined.
He kept rubbing as he back up so that he was on his stomach, arms positioned under your legs, hands on your breasts, and face near your heat.
He leans down and licks a stripe up until he gets to your clit - there he sucks until your moans turn into pleads.
You try to close your legs or move but he holds them apart as he continues the pressure against your clit. He brings his middle and ring finger to your mouth and tells you to suck while he starts to flick his tongue against you. Once he’s satisfied he brings his fingers down to gently press against your entrance.
Ron puts one finger in and you moan.
“Ron! Please, please, please, more.”
“You think you deserve more baby?” He moans into you. “Think your pussy deserves to cum tonight?”
Your whine is nearly a cry. You’re just wishing and hoping he adds another finger.
“Tell me who I belong to Y/N. Let me hear you say it.”
“Mmmm. You belong to me Ron please, more.”
“I belong to you hmmm? Say it louder, I wanna believe it.”
“Fuck, Ron, You’re mine Ron please, please, please.”
He adds another finger, and continues a steady rhythm while pressing kisses to the insides of your thighs.
“And you belong to me baby. You’re all mine, and you’re gonna gonna cum on my fingers, okay? Want you to cum for me, can you do that?”
“Yes. Yes. Yes please Ron I wanna cum for you.”
He brings his tongue back to your pussy and begins licking your clit fast while pushing his fingers in and out of you curving them slightly as to hit your g-spot.
“I’m close Ron, fuck! I’m close, I’m close, I’m close.”
Ron practically grins against your pussy and goes faster.
“You’re close? Cum for me baby. Cum for Daddy, wanna taste you on my tongue.”
He continues and you fight against the restraint as you moan loudly and cum. Your fingernails were dug into your palms and there were nearly tears in your eyes. You felt so good. He made you feel so good.
He got up so that he could untie you.
“I’m sorry if I made you feel like I was anyone’s but yours. No one can ever compare to you. You’re forever mine, and I’m eternally yours.”
——————
The End😭 Goodnight y’all. I suck at endings.
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