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chocopokkie · 19 days

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Bound by Shadows

Summary: You attempt to break up with Alastor but it doesn't go so well.

TW: Non-con, yandere-ish Alastor, forced relationship, smut (let me know if I missed any!)

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"I'm really sorry, Al," you murmur softly, your gaze avoiding his once-adoring eyes, now fixed with a grin that cuts deeper than any blade. "I just don't think we should be together anymore..."

"We can still be friends!" you hastily add, your voice betraying the tremor of uncertainty, "I just don't think—"

But before you can finish, a dark laugh cuts through the air like a chilling gust of wind.

"Haha!" Alastor's laughter drips with disdain as he interrupts, his tone laced with judgment. "My dear, I truly don't think you know what you're talking about. You think after everything I've done for you, you can just leave me, little doe? I believe I need to give you a reminder of who you belong to," he growls, his words like a predator's low warning growl.

Suddenly, the room shifts and morphs around you, the comforting walls of your room replaced by the dark, dense canopy of a forest. Panic surges through you, but before you can even grasp the gravity of the situation, you're violently shoved to the forest floor. The earthy scent fills your senses as black tendrils snake around your limbs, rendering escape impossible.

"Alastor, please, what are you doing?" you plead, your voice shaking with a mixture of fear and confusion. You attempt to struggle against the oppressive grip of the tendrils, but they hold you firmly in place, like iron chains. "Please, you're really scaring me!" you beg, desperation seeping into your words as you realize the gravity of the situation.

"Oh, as you should be, dear~," Alastor purrs sinisterly, his voice dripping with malevolence. "Because I'm going to make sure this is a lesson you never forget." With a snap of his fingers, the tendrils forcefully flip you over, leaving you on your knees with your face pressed against the cold, hard forest floor. Dread washes over you as you realize what's about to happen.

"N-No... Please..." you whimper, your voice barely above a whisper, desperation tainting every syllable. "Okay, I'm sorry! Please, I'll never do anything like this again, I swear! I love you! Just please stop..." You plead, reaching out to him in a futile attempt to appeal to his humanity, to make him see reason. But all you receive in response is a dark chuckle that sends chills down your spine.

"Oh, I know, baby~," Alastor responds, his tone laced with a sickening mixture of affection and possessiveness. "But if you aren't punished, you might get that stupid idea of trying to leave me in that pretty little head of yours. And we can't have that again, now can we?"

Alastor moves quickly, his movements fluid yet unsettlingly precise. With a swift motion, he shoves your dress over your hips, the fabric bunching around your waist. You gasp in shock and protest, but before you can utter a word, his clawed finger slashes through your panties, cutting them away with a cruel efficiency.

His dark chuckle cuts through the air like a blade through silence. "Bad girls don't get any foreplay," he growls, his voice dripping with malice as he works at his pants, freeing his cock. With grace, he positions himself at your unprepared entrance.

"I'm sorry, Alastor! Please, just stop," you plead, desperation lacing your voice as tears stream down your face. You know there's nothing you can do to halt his actions, trapped and powerless against him.

Your scream rips through the air like a haunting melody as Alastor mercilessly shoves his entire length inside of you, setting a brutal pace that leaves you gasping for breath. Each thrust is accompanied by a symphony of pain and desperation, your pleas falling on deaf ears as he revels in your suffering. Alastor savors the sound of your cries, finding perverse pleasure in the symphony of agony echoing through the forest.

One of his hands snakes around to rub your clit, sending a jolt of unexpected pleasure coursing through your body. Your muscles tense and spasm in response to the new sensation, but the relentless grip of the tendrils keeps you firmly anchored to the forest floor, rendering you utterly helpless against Alastor's desires. He continues his assault, relishing in the control he exerts over your body and mind.

As the realization sinks in, a cold dread settles in the pit of your stomach. You understand now that there's no escape from his grasp, no reprieve from his twisted desires. In that moment, it becomes painfully clear: you belong to him, body and soul, for eternity. Alastor has ensured that you'll never forget your place, sealing your fate with every merciless thrust and cruel manipulation. You are his forever, and he delights in reminding you of that fact.

You can never escape.

He leans in close, his hot breath tickling your ear as he whispers with a cruel intimacy, "Are you gonna be a good girl and cum for me?" With renewed vigor, he increases the speed and pressure on your clit, driving you to the brink of ecstasy even as tears streak down your face, overwhelmed by the conflicting sensations coursing through your body.

As you came around Alastor's cock, he resumes his brutal pace. His claws dig into your hips, leaving marks of possession as he relentlessly chases his own release. With a guttural groan, you feel him twitch inside you, his hot seed spilling deep within, painting your walls white with his essence.

"Now then, have you learned your lesson, love?" Alastor's voice cuts through the haze of pain and confusion, his tone dripping with smug satisfaction. Gradually, you feel the tendrils loosen their grip around you, allowing you to collapse onto the forest floor, your body trembling with exhaustion and sobs wracking your frame.

"Y-yes," you manage to whisper weakly, your voice barely audible amidst the turmoil of emotions raging within you.

"Lovely~. Now get yourself cleaned up! We have reservations tonight!" His words, almost sickeningly cheerful, echo in your ears as he strides away, leaving you alone in the cold darkness of the forest. As you lay there, broken and defeated, you can't help but reconsider everything—your choices, your worth, and the twisted dynamic that binds you to him in ways you never imagined possible.

#alastor #alastor x reader #alastor x you #fanfic #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x y/n #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin smut #hazbin x reader #tw noncon #yandere #yandere alastor #x reader #fem reader #reader insert

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thebadboyfanclub · 9 months

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I Don’t Think I Can Do This (Daemon x Reader)

Hey y’all so I know I was supposed to write another request but my job has cause my imagination to ran dry and this was certainly easier cause i wanted to write something that shows the burden that women carry and also that Daemon is a very grey character, I hope you guys like it

The story of (y/n) Eaglemore and Daemon Targaryen did not start as a love story, one would suppose that seems to be a common trait amongst the concept of arranged marriages, especially to a young maiden of an independent kingdom to the rogue prince Targaryen, their marriage was the establishment of Eaglemore joining their forces with the Targaryens, (y/n) was dressed in her traditional attire with her hair in an intricate style, she was breath of fresh air in the house of the dragons, a proud Eagle that was brave enough to fly with the dragons as the flag with the colors of red and black flew next to the black and red she assumed the similarities were bound as an omen for success.

That was quickly ripped out of her mind at the bedding ceremony that she endured, the prince was not brutal, yet she had hoped that he would forbid it, he was cold and only placed a kiss at the top of her head after it was done before he left her laying while the ones that observed it cleared the room, tears streamed down from embarrassment while the handmaidens helped her get up to assist her with her bath.

“Husband!”

She exclaimed excitedly before she skipped over to Daemon who was preoccupied with having a conversation with Viserys was much more important than turning his head to face her, alas the newlywed stood by his side and reached for his hand to get his attention, innocently she squeezed it only to be met with an annoyed expression as he gazed intensely at her.

“What?! (Y/n)! Did they not teach basic manners in your homeland?”

“I-I just, I wanted to give you this, I sewed it for you, it’s the dragon symbol with the eagle”

“Great, give it to the handmaidens, is that all?”

Suddenly she became hyper-aware of the pie of eyes around her, mostly men that had taken interest in the scene that unfolded in the gardens, she felt like a little girl scolded by her father, she bit her lower lip as her shoulders sunk in defeat, the glimpse in her eyes slowly disappearing like a light snuffed out.

“My apologies, I did not wish to interrupt you and the king, I hope you can forgive me, y-your grace”

“It is quite alright, my dear, for what it’s worth I found your creation a wonderful gift, do not pay attention to daemon he has never been good with gifts”

“If that means I have never been good with gifts that have no use then yes, I agree”

“I shall go, excuse me, your grace, husband”

She curtsied before she ran off, her chocolate-colored hair swinging left and right in her ponytail as her eyes looked down to hide the tears that she desperately held back, Daemon watched her and could sense the damage he had caused, sometimes he would catch himself staring at her with purity and interest, he had even smiled once when she struggled to find the right word in his language.

He should have stopped, he should have held his tongue when the evident quiver of her chin started to show when her eyes bounced in different directions as she wanted to gather her composure, but he didn’t, now Daemon stood as still as a grain of salt whilst she once again ran away from him covered in shame.

“She is your lady wife Daemon, must you be so hard on her?”

“A wife that was bestowed to me”

“She is also someone that was bestowed a spouse, yet she took it with grace and is grasping desperately to create the best out of the worst, as a man that prides himself on his intelligence your lady wife has surpassed you, at least in principle and empathy”

Daemon was stunned, as Viserys spoke in such kind words his words slashed through Daemon like the sharpest of knives, this was Daemon's second marriage, and it had become second nature to be rude and unattainable to his lady wife since the bronze bitch shared the same hatred as he did for her, now the cheerful lady with the deer like eyes and red puffy cheeks had been nothing but kind, a foreign pain in his chest started to make Daemon uneasy as she ran further and out of his line of sight.

“If I were you I would be very ashamed”

(Y/n) sat in front of the mirror as one of her handmaidens lit her candles and the other brushed (y/n)s hair to prepare her for bed, (y/n) stood as still as she could though her fingers intertwined with one another and twisted in odd ways.

“Could you leave me with Chiara, please? Thank you”

(Y/n) requested softly, the young handmaiden only curtsied before she walked out of (y/n)s chamber, whilst Chiara continued to brush her hair, they had grown into a bond that (y/n) felt comfort in, Chiara was sweet and honest, somewhat older, and had just given birth to her first child, she was the first handmaiden that she met when she got to the red keep.

“Do you love your lord husband?”

“I do, now”

“What do you mean?”

“I married him per my father's request, and he gave the biggest dowry, at first it was difficult, we had to figure out a way to communicate and after a while, I like to think that he grew to love me as much as I love him, though first, we respected one another, then love came gradually”

(Y/n) grew silent, her head hanging low before she bit her lip in defeat, she respected her lord husband? Did her lord husband respect her? After the incident on the morrow, it certainly didn’t feel like it.

(Y/n) had not noticed that Chiara had scrounged in front of her and placed her hands over (y/n)s, she only saw the tears that splashed over the handmaidens' skin.

“You won’t always feel like the outsider”

“I don’t think I can do this”

“You can, it is alright my dear”

One sob came after the other as (y/n)s body shook and Chiara lovingly wrapped her arms around the lady’s frame in such delicacy, it resembled a girl hugging her porcelain doll while she tried to not crack it, in its macabre nature you could identify a certain beauty, someone that had the strength to comfort a disheveled young lady as she navigated through womanhood and all its trials.

What had (y/n) nor Chiara had taken into account was that Prince Daemon had made his way to the half-cracked door, freezing in his sport once the whimpers of agony hit his ears, he peaked through the shadows only to be met with his lady wife letting tears stain her dress and hiccups shaking her hunching back as the handmaiden rubbed circles on her back.

“Prince Daemon is a fool for not acknowledging the precious stone that is you, may the gods bless him and open his eyes before he is taken from us”

Daemon had no reason to intervene, the poor lady was right, he was a fool, here she was, a beautiful and intelligent young royalty crying over his acts, he had always longed for home, for family, and now he kicked and toyed with it.

He should be the one comforting his lady wife, to gaze upon (y/n)s puffy and red face and do his best to calm her nerves, not to be the face of her pain, shamefully he scurried away without a word, mad at his reflection that stared back at him in such high horse, he had become everything he hated, a man that did not care about anyone but himself, stopping at nothing to prove he was right.

“Good morrow”

(Y/n) did not respond, she only raised her head and nodded at Daemon that had just entered the dining area, exhausted from crying the lady felt like a family of horses had run over her, getting barely a wink of sleep, evidently so by the veins under her eyes.

(Y/n)s silence was deafening to Daemon, however, he cleared his throat and took a sit next to his lady wife, waiting for a servant to pour him some wine.

“Orange juice? I believe we do not grow these over here”

“A gift from my mother, she said orange juice in the morning is a secret to a woman’s beauty”

“She must be the most astonishing lady back in your line”

“You met her, on our wedding feast, I believe you were too busy to pay attention, like always”

The last comment was barely above a whisper still sharp as a knife right on Daemon's abdomen, Daemon only turned his gaze at her, confused by her demeanor, it wasn’t uncalled for yet it took him by surprise, she always seemed to have the ability to hide her agony at least in public.

“Mayhaps we could go to her, I’m sure she will be more than happy if her daughter visited her”

“Not if my belly is flat, as much as she wanted me to be thin for most of my life she is now sending raven after raven to just check in with my monthly bleeds”

She informed him in a mumbling tone while her hand was rubbing circles on her temples, visibly annoyed over her mother's disregard for her well-being and hyper-focused on her womb.

Daemon was taken back by her comfortability to speak over her monthly visits, brushing it off easily though since they were husband and wife after all, those matters should concern him as well, the idea of a sweet little child running to (y/n)s arms brought him joy.

“It must be uneasy, being put in this position”

“Indeed and if I am being honest, my lord husband has not been making it any easier, with my empty womb nor his attitude”

“I understand you are cross with me”

“Can you blame me? You humiliated me”

Her tone switched from my king to a hiss, her eyes spewing fire as she stared back at him, it was the first time that she dared to show her true emotions, albeit Daemon could detect that it wasn’t just an act of anger but a sense of fear was laying behind those hues of hers.

He was correct, (y/n) feared for her future, the whispers of Daemon's visits to the street of silk, the adoration for his niece, his continuing ignorance over their wedlock, it all came crashing on her chest making it unable to breathe sometimes.

“I came to break my fast with you as a sign of goodwill, I want us to work on our relation-“

“Us? There is no us, you made sure of that my prince, you have crashed all my efforts and now you dare to speak of us”

“I cannot correct my past mistakes, I can only hope that you will allow me to work on our future, you did not deserve my coldness and for that, I sincerely apologize, I only wish for your good graces and for you to allow me to show you how I truly feel for you and our wedlock”

Silence, her eyes focused on his to scatter for one ounce of a lie, alas she was left with nothing, a sigh left her lips as she sunk to her chair defeated, why did the gods curse her with such a difficult match?

“I do not know if I can love you, I tried to desperately earn your affection for so long, I have grown tired of this”

“I know you have and I do not blame you, I beg you, my sweet (y/n), let me try”

His hand had found hers to hold, the warm flesh against hers grew goosebumps, a small beam of light found its way into her soul and a ghost of a smile appeared as (y/n) glimpsed upon their hands locked together, she gave him a subtle squeeze to see if this was a dream or reality.

“I suppose trying couldn’t hurt”

“Thank you, now you must eat, your mother might be right you have lost some weight”

“My efforts of getting accustomed to your foods have not been working”

“You do not have to, we can bring a cook from your homeland, my lady wife shall eat whatever her heart contents”

“There are some delicacies that I believe you would enjoy”

“I am not very picky with food so I will try anything you put in front of me”

Chatter was something (y/n) could easily do, however, even though Daemons spirits were high, (y/n) would steal glances of caution at him, was this another scheme? Or was he genuinely craving her presence and good graces?

“I was hoping you could come to meet Caraxes later”

“I do not know if that is the best idea”

“Nonsense, Caraxes is a part of me, therefore a part of you by law, soon our children will have their eggs on their cradle, if you are surrounded by dragons you need to get used to their presence”

Requests are open!

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bubbles-for-all-of-us · 3 months

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My tears ricochet

Next chapter

summary: There are thunder clouds in the horizon that threaten Eris’s chance of being a high lord. Rhys strikes a deal. The only thing left to find out now is who gets out of this deal alive?

warning: death, blood, enemies to lovers, fighting, forced arrangements, talk of marriage of convenience.

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Things were changing in Prythian. With the length of fea lives, high lords didn’t change often. But when the shift did happen, it was as if someone were to open a beast's belly, and suddenly everyone was on the fence; the territory was for grabs, and others could gain something from the new weaker high lord until the power fully settled in him.

“I’ll need you with me tonight," Rhys said, slowly swirling his drink in the glass. The tension could be felt in all the courts, but Rhys had been deep in his thoughts ever since the news about the new high lord had circled. “You’re in a mood to kill the new high lord of autumn already?", you mussed, making Cassian let out a snort. You had lost the number of meetings that had been held in the past week alone. And while you didn’t like Eris, a small part of you couldn’t help but feel sympathy for him. On one hand, this, no doubt, had to be a relief. To know that the world was no longer tarnished by Beron. But the responsibility was still hard to carry all alone.

“A diplomatic meeting," Rhys clarified, making you roll your eyes, “That can be changed real quick with a dagger." But you could see the plea in his eyes. And something else. An emotion you couldn’t quite grasp. It had been there for a couple of days now. It was hazy at first, while Rhys was still contemplating it all in his head. Now, however, it was set and done, leaving a trail of unease in your gut when you caught a glimpse of it.

“I need you." You were not sure what exactly those words implied. Knowing how fond you and Eris were of one another, it was as if Rhys had planned a civil war to break out in the autumn. Unless he needed Eris to decline whatever offer Rhys was going to propose, and you were just the thing for that, “Fine, I’ll be there," you huffed, bringing the glass to your lips. Even if you knew that not even booze could make a meeting like that bearable, "I can't wait to see Eris’s face when you walk in." Azriel’s low voice filled the room, followed by Cassian’s chuckle. “You enjoy his misery way too much, Az," you said, shaking your head with a smile. “What can I say? I’m a simple man," the spymaster smiled before downing his drink.

Eris had been dreaming of this day since the moment he realized that this brutality would only end when Beron was six feet, make it ten so the bastard wouldn’t have a chance of crowning out, below. One thing he didn’t take into consideration was that the new power would rip at him from within. Leaving him quite shaky and restless. Not to mention that he didn’t have anyone to guard his back. His younger brothers were all corrupted by his father to be of any help at all.

“Apologies for your loss once again," Beron’s right-hand man clapped Eris’s shoulder. "The council will miss Beron’s presence," the other added sympathetically. No doubt, Eris thought. All the males in this room had been fed like pigs out of the same hod for decades. And Beron fed them well with promises that were never truly delivered. “But we do not doubt you, Eris," and here was the silent warning that they expected the same treatment from the oldest Vanserra. No doubt already able to sniff out Eris’s plans on wiping the council out. “Yet we are here to guide you if..." “If that’s all, I would like to end the meeting," Eris said, raising his hand. The yapping of these old men had drilled the last bit of sanity out of him today. With a flow of “Of course, of course," and “our apologies for holding you up," Eris watched them pick up their scrolls as they hurried out of the room.

The moment the door closed, Eris let out a deep sigh, rubbing a hand over his face. Exhausted. He was just so exhausted. If only he could sleep at night. To just… “You looked like a fox kicked by a hunter," Eris opened his eyes to the sound of a familiar voice. "Lucien, my patience is running low tonight." It came out harsher than Eris intended. He was glad that Lucien had agreed to listen in on the meetings in general. He didn’t have to. But Eris had no one to turn to. “This wasn’t that bad of a meeting," the youngest Vanserra said, pulling out a chair for himself. The meeting had barely touched on serious topics. Council had tried to swing the chatter to that, but Eris had fully focused on the food supplies and growing stock.

"Would be better if you came back to stand by my side fully," Eris pressed once more. While a part of him understood Lucien's choice, another was bitter that every offer had been declined. “You know I have duties elsewhere," Lucien replied like he had ever since Beron died. “This is home," Eris pointed out, fingers drumming against the table. Their eyes met, and Eris knew Lucien’s next words before they had even touched his lips. “This was never my home," he stated with a shake of his head.

Eris knew that, it clawed at him that Lucien had been out there, going from court to court. At the time, it felt like the best choice. To take him away from all of this. To make sure that no hits, whether physical or emotional, were ever directed at him.

“How’s mother?", Lucien cut the silence upon the two brothers. "She would have happily danced on his grave if she had a chance," Eris mussed. Both brothers couldn’t help but smile. It was crazy to think that she was finally free. No more playing pretend. Their mother was finally a free woman who could do anything she wanted. And even if it hurt to admit it, Eris knew that she too wouldn’t stay back home with him. Her heart had been elsewhere for decades already.

“Why are you still here, Lucien?" Even if Eris loved having Lucien back, he knew too well that he didn’t just linger to be there. There had to be a reason. “Can’t I come over to spend quality time?" Lucien smirked right as Eris cut him off mid-sentence, “Cut the bullshit." And here they were, back at square one. With all the real emotion swept beneath the masks they have been wearing, “Rhys wants to meet with you tonight." Eris let out a deep sigh at Lucien's words. He just didn’t have it in him to go through one more toying session today. “He has valid suggestions," Lucien reassured his older brother. “He can shove them right up his ass," Eris pushed back his chair, turning to pour himself another drink. “Eris, hear him out. You need allies now; you need recognition," there was truth in Lucien’s words. Even if the times were changing, some old rules still applied, even if Eris didn’t plan to rule by the textbook his father had created. But there were still things he couldn’t escape. “I’ve already made a name for myself, Lucien; they know what to expect," Eris stated bitterly. Not daring to look back. Not daring to meet his brother’s eyes.

Swallowed by the never-ending piles of work, Eris had lost track of time. Only the footsteps that sounded down the hall made him halt as he lifted his head. Listening. “Of fucking hell," Eris muttered. All the fibers in his body twisted. Because he knew. Knew without seeing. Knew it deep within his gut. "Joy and cheer!", your voice echoed as you opened the door to Eris’s study. The devilish grin shone across your face. "Hello, kitten," you mussed up at him. Cassian was grinning, barely holding back a laugh. Even Azriel ran a hand over his mouth to hide his smile. Eris slowly gazed up at Rhys, “I would have offered you to sit, but since you brought that malice with you..." his eyes darted back at you. Looking you up and down in that profound, unimpressed expression of his. Even if deep blue had always been your color. No one wore it better than you did in Eris’s eyes.

“Oh, because you’re such a cuddly bun," you purred, crossing your arms over your chest. "Y/n," Rhys stated firmly, glaring your way. You let out a huff, “Not my problem; he has his nickers in a twist." You pointed at Eris, who pinched the bridge of his nose, “Lord forbid... I have no time for this. You know where to find the exit." Motioning with his hand, the oldest Vanserra gestured to the door. Already turning away to leave.

"Eris, at least let me make a proposition," Rhys insisted, stepping forward before glancing back at you, “And you sit." The order was degrading, at least. Like a youngster being scolded. "I'm not your lap dog," you grumbled, eyebrows knitted. “You sure look like one," Eris muttered under his breath, making you gasp.

You were about to give him a piece of your mind when Rhys cut in, “There’s unease among the high lords." Eris blinked a couple of times. The low lights were doing no favors for his already paler skin. "Rhys, you either tell me something I don’t know or you leave," the high lord sighed with tiredness. He had heard it all before. And one more conversation about this might end up being the reason why Eris was going to drop dead himself. Rhys stood silent for a moment before uttering, “They want to make a vote; they deem you not fit to rule until they know how Beron died."

And for the first time that night, Eris’s eyes were truly forced on Rhys. A new layer of tension lined his shoulders. “What?" he muttered beneath his breath. “They are planning to hold a meeting without you." Now those words cut Eris deep. That same wound Beron cut open over and over again. You’ll never be good enough. Do you think you could ever sit among them? With me gone, you will be nothing in their eyes. “That’s nonsense; I have a right to be informed about this." Eris gripped the edge of the table. A flame of anger rekindled deep within.

“You need alliances and show them that you have it under control," Rhys pointed out, no doubt having gone through all of that himself. In some ways, “I do have it under control," Eris snarled bitterly. “Well, reports say otherwise," Rhys noted, pointing at the reports in his hand. Eris’s eyes skim over the text with urgency. “Look… I’m offering you help”. Rhys's voice died down.

That same sense of chill ran down your back. It was as if something from deep within was warning you that this was way more serious than you had thought. Eris shook his head as he read. Almost all of the high lords were in on it. There were no direct threats there, but the implications were obvious.

“Marry Y/N," and the room died down for a moment. The silence was so intense that the ringing in your ears nearly made you hold onto your head. “What?”, You both breathed in unison before your eyes fell upon one another. One heartbeat. Two. “Hell no", “Over my dead body," both of your declines fell one after the other.

"Eris, you know how the council runs and how they are about the business. You need to make public appearances. You need someone by your side," and Rhys had a point. If most courts had moved on from council power, Beron had held onto them for dear life. They fed his power. Stopped the fires of rebellion for him. And now their way was Eris’s people's way. “I sure as hell don’t need that leech," Eris said in frustration. “Hey, word choice," Azriel pointed a finger his way, making the frown on Eris’s face even deeper. “I��m not marrying that monster," you hissed.

“I would once again suggest you look at yourself," Eris grumbled back, running his hand over his face. But you were done with him. He could go to hell the way he was standing now. It’s your brother who met your angered face. “Why was I not informed about this? What right do you have to even suggest this?" You stepped closer to him, your hands reaching for his shirt. “It’s a marriage of convenience," Rhys said again, trying to kill the frustration his suggestion had caused, “You play by the rules; secure the spot for Eris among that table, and then we’ll find a way to split you apart. My word will be worth more if you’re courting my sister."

No, this couldn’t be happening. Gone were the times when women were traded like pigs. This was a joke. A nightmare. You pinched your hand once, twice. Nothing. It didn’t all fade away. “No, absolutely, no," you breathed, your hand falling on your chest. This was not the life you had dreamed of. Not how it was supposed to go.

“What’s the catch here, Rhys?" Eris breathed. Was he even considering this? Surely he wasn’t. “He left Mor by the fucking border! Do you want me in ribbons by your door?", you pulled at Rhys’s black shirt, practically hissing through your clenched teeth. “I wouldn’t dirty my hands with you that much," Eris’s voice killed your huffs as you turned back at him.

"Asshole," you spat his way. “Whiny little girl," Eris huffed back, crossing his arms over his chest. “I fucking hate you," you shrieked in frustration, pulling at the roots of your hair as the situation slowly sank in. “Oh, you hate me? Do you want to know how I feel?" Eris laughed bitterly, his eyes not leaving you, “If you were my wife, I would put poison in your morning tea." His cold words sliced through you. You let out a bitter chuckle. Taking a breath to compose yourself. A shaky hand running down the skirt of your dress to smooth the material. “Ah, well, if you were my husband, I would happily drink it." Your words lingered in the air,and you could see it even if it was just a flash. A blink. That second of shock that flashed through Eris’s eyes.

With a quick step forward, you pushed at his chest, "Never do you hear me?" You hissed one more time, “Will never happen." His hand caught your wrist with a swift motion as he pulled you closer to him. Your chest firmly pressed against his as he muttered right against your face. “You’re screaming at me as if it’s my idea," Eris huffed, dropping your hand.

You blinked, turning back to your older brother. Who swore to protect you. To always look out for you. “You’re a shit brother, Rhys," you stated. Finding it so utterly hard to even look at him now. All this time. He could have warned you. Said something. Asked. But no. “I’m trying to stop another war from happening," he stated as if this were a simple transaction, not a life-altering decision. “By sacrificing me?" You hit your chest in frustration. Your youthful years would spent slaving in another country, and for what?

“Don’t be so dramatic," Eris huffed, making you let out a frustrated whimper, "Oh, my apologies for not seeing any gain in this for me." Rhys took a deep breath. “The court wants a married man with a powerful woman by his side." Here it was his lord's voice. Not your brother. He stepped closer to you, trying to reach for your hands, but you backed away instantly. “This is more about you than anyone else," he tried to reason. So you were to be a play toy. A figurine in someone else’s game. “Just unbelievable," you said, shaking your head and stepping back. Your leg hit the cabinet, sending a couple of bottles tumbling down. Rhys called your name once more, but you didn’t. Couldn't be here any longer as you bolted towards the door.

"Y/n," Rhys called out in warning, moving towards the exit as well. “Don’t you dare follow her; you’ve done enough damage for the night," Eris’s cold voice made the Lord of the Night halt. And for the first time that night, the uncaring mask on Rhys’s face slipped: “Don’t lecture me when I’m trying to help," venomous frustration seeping through, “I’m landing you my biggest asset. She’s my only blood family." Eris couldn’t help the smile that crept over his face, “If you loved her so much, you wouldn’t toy with her like that”. Rhys’s jaw twitched.

"Careful," Azriel reasoned for the second time that night. Eris had forgotten that the two of them were even there. “Stop barking from the back rows," he hissed at the two batboys. Cassian quickly placed his hand on Azriel’s chest, stopping him in his tracks. Eris shook his head, “You miscalculated, Rhys; admit it." Turning back to reach for the bottle of brandy, Eris took a swig straight out of the bottle. “You’d gain power out of this. But your precious demon of a sister will never forgive you for this." That struck a nerve deep within Rhys. And suddenly, the suggestion itself felt ingenious. So there was a catch after all, huh? “A day," Rhys said firmly, “I’m giving you a day to think this through; then my offer is off the table." Like that. He was dismissed as if he too wasn’t a high lord now. As if Eris wasn’t in an equal position to demand. Eris leaned forward,“You were never the one offering, Rhys; it was never your call to make."

#eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra x you #eris vanserra imagine #acotar x reader #acotar x you #acotar imagine

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olivyh · 1 year

Note

Fluff/crack hc

Dorm leaders get Kabedon by an S/O who didn't know they kabedon'd the Dorm leaders cus Yuu wanted to get their attention and say something they deemed important

A/N: Sorry for the long wait! Studying in another country is taking a lot more out of me than I thought it would, and I've been pretty drained of motivation ;;;;. Hopefully it gets better once I get more used to living here and used to being so far from my friends and family, but I'll see where it takes me! I do see all the requests and I'm very grateful for all your support and kind comments- they're all getting be through these times <<3333 I couldn't thank you all enough for your support and I'll get back into my groove soon I hope!

Riddle:

"-and as of right now, there are currently fifteen students who have told me that they will be unable to complete their tasks necessary for the upcoming unbirthday party which, unfortunately, means-" He rambled, shuffling the impressive amount of papers he was currently holding in his arms- all annotated and marked appropriately and according by date and subject. He was walking through the main hallway with the prefect after classes and was currently incredibly stressed about the events that had unfolded since he woke up.

First, he had gotten several messages about things that had gone wrong yesterday due to a brutal storm that had run its way through his dorm overnight; consisting of ripped-up bushes, frightened animals, and overturned tables (not to mention the countless roses that had been plucked from their homes and thrown about the area). That was followed by multiple complaints about food being stolen from the kitchen (he was confident that the culprit was a certain red-headed card soldier who had been getting on his nerves day in and day out since his arrival at NRC). Following that, many students had told him that they were sick and unable to perform their duties for the day.

Riddle felt as though his head was going to explode from stress, and he found himself rambling to the one person on campus who he felt was sane enough to understand his inner turmoil.

"Riddle!" He gasped when his back met the cold stone wall and a hand was placed beside his head. All his worries seemed to be ripped away from him as his brain as the only thing he could focus on was the rapid thrumming of his heart beneath his uniform and how close his friend was. His mouth opened and closed for a moment as he felt his face heat up. He felt as though he couldn't breathe from the close proximity.

"Finally," They sigh, leaning back and giving him some room to catch some much-needed air. "I was telling you that we passed the cafeteria. You mentioned that you didn't eat lunch."

"Right..." He mumbles, his voice much too small for his liking. They back away and, for a moment, Riddle wishes that those few moments of suffocation would last just a little bit longer. The more he reflects on it, the quicker his heart beats. His hands begin to tremble and he barely notices when more and a few papers slip from his grasp and fall to the floor. His face heats up once more and his breathing becomes erratic the more he looks at the prefect, the sensation becoming too intense before he finds himself stammering something about a text from Trey and running off, leaving the poor prefect in a confused daze behind him with only the echo of his heels clicking behind him.

Leona:

He was currently trying to nap beneath the large canopy of a tree nestled deep within the botanical garden. The warmth of the sun seeped in through the vast windows that were cut in a way that decorated small patches of the ground around in the shades of the rainbow, highlighting the bright hues of the tropical flowers that he was surrounded by. He was skipping class again, as per usual, after having been victim to a three-hour-long call from his family. All he wanted to do was to rest in the small patch of grass that he'd claimed as his own and sleep until it was dinner- which wouldn't be for another five hours from then.

He had found the most perfect spot- just hidden away from any prying eyes and surrounded by the scent of the nearby flowers, but not close enough to get sprayed by the water that would rain down when the sprinklers went off. He had just closed his eyes when he caught a familiar smell lurking in the bushes.

"What do you want, herbivore?" He groans, peeking an eye open and squinting against the bright light. The human stands over him, hands on their hips as they cast a shadow over his form.

"Ruggie sent me!" The beastman rolls his eyes and allows the opened one to slip closed once more. "Come on, Leona! You can't miss another class..."

"Why not?" He scoffs, rolling onto his side so he was facing away from them. He feels their hand land on his shoulder and tug lightly in an attempt to get him to look at them once more which, of course, fails. He can admire their determination in most situations, but in this kind of scenario, he can't help but feel annoyed at their insistence.

"You have to graduate at some point!" Leona sighs and rolls over, making the human slip with a yelp that makes his eyes shoot wide open as he finds himself directly under the prefect. He smirks and tries to ignore the way his stomach flutters at their proximity.

"Is this how you want to wake me up?" Leona chuckles. "You're awfully brave, stomping into the lion's den." He basks in their flustered expression before flipping the roles, successfully pushing them onto the dirt and laughing loudly at the way their face morphs into something much more intense than it was previously.

"Leona..." Their quiet, flustered voice reaches his ears and he tilts his head, sitting back on his heels and allowing them to sit up, barely catching their embarrassed stammers and excuses before they run back into the gardens, disappearing between the bushes.

He chuckles and leans back into the grass, finally able to take the nap he so desperately wished for.

Azul:

He was currently hunched over his desk, well past the hours when he should have been showered and in bed. The rest of the Mostro Lounge was dead silent aside from the soft sounds of bubbles that emanated from the hallway and the occasional clink as he bumped into his glass of water, which bumped into the inkwell of his bonefish pen. The only other sounds that echoed throughout the room was the scratching of his pen and the occasional drawn-out sigh from the merman as he slaved away at his desk.

His entire body ached and his eyes felt as though they were being weighed down with lead, but he had to finish the final budgeting for the lounge before dawn. If not, then he would be behind on all the other work that he had to get done- such as ordering supplies and creating menus for the next month and a half, as well as filing any reports for damages caused by rowdy guests or the notorious eel that would throw things when he had gotten into one of his moods or would draw on plates when he felt like it.

He didn't even feel when he had dozed off, only knowing that he had blinked for a little too long before he was spun around and roughly jostled out of his dazed state. He blinks widely up at the person who currently had their hands on either side of his desk, effectively trapping him between them and the piece of furniture. Their proximity alone was enough to wake him up, leaving the mer feeling as though he'd just been plunged into the water of the Coral Sea.

For a moment his mind was racing with thoughts about how he currently looked- he was sure that his glasses were askew (and likely smudged due to his slow, sleepy movements), his hair was probably a mess; sticking up out of his head in each and every direction, and his uniform was comprised of nothing more than his loosely buttoned white shirt and his untied bowtie that hung loosely over his shoulders.

On the other hand, he couldn't focus on anything more than the little details he could never really see of the prefect- the way their lip juts out when they're nervous, the little lines in the corners of their eyes from when they smiled, and even the way their hair framed the face that he would watch day in and day out.

Once his brain clicked, he scrambled for some sort of purchase, effectively tipping his chair back and making his head hit the desk with a thud as pain shot down his spine from the impact. He hit the ground with a groan before the prefect helped him up, walking with him back to his room to nurse his injury. He couldn't tell if his face was burning and his heart was constricting from embarrassment or affection, but he decided that he couldn't care either way.

Kalim:

"But then we could find some new animals to add to the dorm! It would be fun, right?" The heir was currently trying to brainstorm ideas on how to make his dormmates seem less... drained. For the past couple of weeks, due to finals, he noticed how exhausted many of them were. His concern arose when some of them even turned down dinner in favor of studying or sleep. He wasn't exactly sure how he could help them, considering that the most he's been able to offer thus far was a listening ear and a shoulder to cry on, as well as festivals and parties (that many of the students also declined). He was at a loss for what to do until he decided to do some research, which lead him on a tangent in his room, late into the hours of the night. The windows were wide open, which allowed some moonlight to creep in and join the warm light of the magically-lit lanterns and the quiet music that played off his phone- now cast onto his bed and long forgotten in his whirlwind of planning.

"I really don't think that animals would help much," The prefect sighed. That makes him stand still for a moment, sighing and casting a sad glance over to the former. He continues to pace, mumbling different ideas out loud and hoping that they would pick up on at least a little bit of what he was saying. Before he knows it, he's yelling excitedly and practically skipping around his spacious room, hands flailing as he jabbers about possible plans to improve his dormmates' wellbeing. He doesn't even notice when the prefect begins to call his name.

"But if it doesn't work, then what?" He finishes, taking a deep breath to look over at them. He takes notice of the concerned look on their face, his energy instantly dissipating as he rushes to their side. "What's wrong? You look sad..."

"I'm not sad, Kali. I'm just a little worried. You're not responsible for everyone's happiness," They explain and Kalim feels his heart shatter as confusion clouds his brain.

"I'm..." He pauses and smiles, letting out a short, silent laugh. "I'm a dorm leader! I have to!"

He gasps when he feels himself trapped suddenly against his wardrobe, cutting off his train of thought roughly as he sucks in a deep breath.

"What are you...?"

"So you'll finally listen to what I'm saying!"

He nods and tries to ignore the feeling in the back of his mind that begs him to squirm. He has been close to the prefect before, yes, but never for a long enough period of time. He'd only done it to help them learn how to do the dances of his hometown, or when he would clean up with them (or attempt to, at least). But this felt completely different from all those times before...

"I'm... listening," He breathes softly after a long pause, making his friend back away for a moment. In that split second, he desperately wishes that he could be as smooth as the princes in all the fairytales he'd grown up reading and pull them back, fighting back the urge to get closer to them once more.

Vil:

"In just a moment," Vil murmured, leaning in closer to the mirror that sat at his desk. The lights would have been blinding if thy hadn't reflected off his light violet eyes so brightly and highlighted each and every product that he layered on his perfect skin. He had a meeting in just an hour, and he was already running behind schedule. His dearest friend, the prefect, was currently lounging on his bed, sprawled out and scrolling on their phone while he focused on perfecting his makeup for the undoubtedly long and boring few hours he had ahead of him.

"Vil-" They whined loudly and, in the corner of his eye, he could watch them dramatically throw their arms in the air and flopping them beside their head as they look into his eyes from the background.

"It won't be long, I promise!"

"Nonsense," He sighs. He couldn't deny that he was hungry and, normally, he was practical about his eating schedule. He ate three square meals, and carried around a healthy snack for if he felt as though he needed something extra to get him through the day. Today, however, he had skipped lunch due to rehearsal, and he was certainly feeling the effects now. He could always ignore this and opt to eat at a later time, perhaps once the meeting was over and he could grab something quick from a nearby restaurant.

He turned to face them, only to notice that they were hovering over him and had slammed their hands on his desk loudly, startling him slightly as he jolted. He was surprised, if he was being honest- he wasn't expecting this type of reaction to come from the sweet, sweet prefect.

He sighs, looking up at them with an eyebrow quirked and a small smile on his face as he observes their annoyed expression, before watching as that expression shifts from annoyance to realization to embarrassment.

"Are these the lengths you're truly willing to go to?" He chuckles, determined to turn the tables. He leans in, enjoying the way the prefect seems caught like a deer in headlights. He leans back and goes back to his makeup, making eye contact with them in the mirror and smiling once more. "Nevertheless, you'll have to wait."

He can barely catch their groan filled with disbelief and annoyance before he continues on his work.

Idia:

"But if I log in for the rest of the week, I should still be at the top of the charts, right? But then, my next problem would be that I hadn't grinded for enough lucky stars yet!" Idia was currently pacing in his room, ranting to his newfound friend as they sat on his bed, listening to his problems eagerly as he carried on. "If I log in, I'll be caught up, but not caught up enough to get the new SSR+ that everyone else probably already has!" He throws his hands up in the air, noticing how, out of the corner of his eye, his firey hair lit up the room in shades of amber as he got more and more worked up. "I mean, how unfair is that? I have to go to school! They prob don't even have to do that or dorm leader stuff, so that's exactly how they got ahead of me! Which sucks!"

"Idia..."

"I mean, I've been playing this game since the release and suddenly all these Magicam normies suddenly get the sneak on me because they just joined? I'm glad the fanbase is growing but I mean come on!"

"Idia!"

"And then they're completely mischaracterizing them! Like, absolutely butchering the characters! Shadow isn't all gloomy all the time- he actually has a soft spot for his teammates which is so cool and also such a big thing for them to ignore!"

"Idia Shroud!"

"And I saw on Magicam that they were completely ignoring the plot and the character development- like, in Blade's SSR+ that was released last year, she clearly mentions the main plot and how much it changed her as a person! And people still have the audacity to ignore her!" He was pacing more quickly now, rambling so quickly that he already felt his mouth going dry. The headphones around his neck blasted the ambient music from the paused game on his PC, but he could care less after seeing one particular post that got him worked up.

He felt himself getting pushed to the wall as he stared down at the prefect in shock, his hair turning a bright crimson as his face went a similar shade. He stammered for a moment before biting his lip to shut himself up, feeling the way his heart hammered in his chest and made his head dizzy as the world around him spun.

He was being kabedon-ed.

Just like in all his shows.

"Th-this-"

"I asked if you wanted something to eat," He could only muster a nod before he gulps, biting his lip once more as he gasps for air and his knees go weak. "Idia."

"How did I-," He murmurs, suddenly feeling faint. "-get this route?" Idia whispered the last word as he felt his entire body go limp as he passed out.

Malleus:

He had been more than fortunate to have made such a close friend- one he can call his first in his very long life thus far. As of recently, however, he'd noticed that his affections had become more than simple friendship- the seeds have been planted within the cold thorn walls of his heart and had begun to blossom into fragrant roses that constricted his chest and dominated his every waking thought. More often than not, he had been able to surpass this feeling that had consumed him, placing on his mask of contentedness whenever they would look his way wearing the smile that would make his heart melt and the fireflies that would often surround him fly a little faster in bright yellow streaks against his pale skin and ivory hair that framed his narrow face.

Now had been one of those moments. They were currently exploring the forest around campus, and Malleus finally had the opportunity to show the prefect a small meadow hidden just outside of the sports field- a bustling meadow, filled with wildflowers that sprouted out of the ground and painted the scenery in all the colors of the rainbow and insects buzzing from flower to flower contentedly. He cast a longing glance over to the human, smiling softly at their awed expression- mouth hanging open as their eyes were so wide he could practically see the entire meadow reflected against their irises.

He had wished so desperately to capture this moment in a little bubble, to place it upon a pedestal in his treasure room and gaze at it whenever the nights seem to be too long. Oh, how he wished he could hold their face in his own hands and that the chill of his skin wouldn't give them a shock. He longed to live with them in this meadow- perhaps run far away from his life of nobility to do just that.

He could practically feel it- the warmth of the sun against his face and the weight of the world lifted off his shoulders as they forage for berries- perhaps they would even take a small nap among the flower fae living in the area, only to wake at sunset and move to make a warm meal together in the small kitchen of their cottage.

Suddenly, he's trapped between a small tree with the human in question practically pinning him against it. His eyes widen for a moment as his mind freezes, struggling to understand the sudden proximity.

"Mal-" Before they could finish their sentence, he had vanished in a cloud of fireflies, leaving the concerned human dazed and alone in the middle of the field.

From that point onwards, Malleus was forced to endure Lilia's incessant teasing about his reaction.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader #riddle x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #leona x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #azul x reader #kalim al asim x reader #kalim x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #vil x reader #idia shroud x reader #idia x reader #malleus draconia x reader #malleus x reader #twst oneshots

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iboughtanelectricguitar · 10 months

Text

Dessert

pov: you give rodrick a naughty surprise..

btw it’s my first smutt, and it gets right into the nsfw stuff!!

WAIT

before you read,

this fanfic contains

sex, degrading names, slapping, rough sex, railing. read at your own will…..

you sat as Rodrick was making dinner. you quietly laughed wondering how you could find someone like him that could also cook for you when your stressed.

you watch as he shuffles in an out of the kitchen with different plates of deliciousness. he looked so brutal yet he had a soft spot for you. you feel a wave of horniness tingling all over your body. you saw his shameless smile as he caught you staring. you wonder, how can someone so rough be such a good boy?

“baby, dinner is served” he says as places the last plate on the table”

“coming!” you respond before you go to the bathroom to wash your hands

you both sit down as you start to eat, Rodrick just watching you in adoring eyes.

“how is it darling?” he says in a soft way

“oh my gosh i did not know you cooked so well??” you say

he grins then chuckles. “thank you my pretty girl. i love seeing your face like that”

suddenly it turns you on how he said that and what he said. you can’t help but tell him he’s done an amazing job.

“baby you did so good cooking! i bet you’re tired hm? but don’t forget dessert..” you say charmingly

“may i ask what the dessert is?” he smirks

“yeah, but it’s in the bedroom... i’ll go get it ready”

you get up and walk past him noticing his boner as he tries hiding it. you smirk and go to the bedroom and change into your lingerie he gifted you for your birthday

“baby, it’s ready!” you yell as you get ready for the excitement to come

he walks into the room looking shocked.

just as you’re about to say something, he doesn’t resist as he takes his shirt off and you look at the best view ever. you look at the detailed lines all across his body, almost identical to the sketches you imagined of him. you were so hungry. you wanted a bite so bad just as he grabbed your waist aggressively but softly in some sort and soon your lips were touching together

you let out a soft moan as that made him hungrier than before. before you knew it he was grabbing on to your breasts that cupped his hands perfectly. suddenly he stopped.

“baby no no no what happened?” you pleaded as you wanted his rough hands touch your soft body.

his breath fans over your body as he breathily mumbles “can..can i go further?”.

“yes baby yes. this is all i want” you said in a desperate voice

he continued holding your breast’s as you could feel his cock buldge out of his black ripped jeans

he went down and kissed your neck. oh gosh you loved how his soft lips planted a kiss on each part of your neck. he trailed all the way down to you breasts that popped out to him. he started kissing all around and then teased you by biting you.

he unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants. you masked a gasp as you looked down.

trailing your hands down his front, he released a low groan once you lightly grasped it. you carefully stroked it as he let out little groans.

you went faster and used both hands. at this point he was enjoying it as he took his hand and placed it on your head moving in back and forth, back and forth, back and forth.

“yes baby, yes! give it to me. don’t stop..” he pleaded.

you could feel his cock throbbing and you fit your whole mouth on his cock. you went faster with the movements as you could hear his climax

“oh, oh! oh yes baby. ohhh..!” he says as he orgasms

your mouth fills up with his cum and you giggle as he continues to cum all over your face.

“ahhh baby you sure gave me a treat. i never knew you could do that…” he groans

but it’s your turn now as he aggressively pushes you down on the bed so your stomach is facing the soft mattress

he takes the tip of his cock and slightly jabs it in your cunt. he does this several times until he puts his fat cock inside your cunt. you let out a moan as he rocks his body in and out of you.

you grab the sheets for support because of how hard he is going in and out of you.

“i’ll tell you when you can cum you dirty little slut” he says harshly

as the moans grow, he pulls your hair harshly as his big fat cock thrusts inside you. you’re absolutely stunned because this was better than what you had imagined.

“you’re all mine” he whispers into your ear. you whimper in return.

you feel yourself getting closer to your orgasm as he yells “what did i say my pretty girl? you don’t want to get punished, right” you can’t help it. you feel yourself getting closer and closer.

finally you cum, and let out a big moan. you feel so free and amazing, but you notice that the thrusting didn’t come to an end.

“R-rodrick, ah, s-stop”

he slaps your ass hard enough to leave a red mark. he stays silent while he’s still pushing into your cunt.

he groans, “y/n ah, make me proud. you know how to make me feel good, please”

suddenly you feel his warm cum enter you as he groans loudly

“ohhh y/n.. ah that was amazing.” he pants

you feel a spark of relief thinking that he forgot about you cumming without permission

“but you dirty slut,” he takes a deep breath “you didn’t listen to me? hm?”

you mumble curse words under your breath

“what was that darling? looks like someone hasn’t learned their lesson yet..” he chuckles.

yay! please let me know whoever to write abt 😔🙏🙏

#rodrick x reader #smutt #smuttiness #rodrick smut #hot as fuck #rodrick heffley

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rubyreduji · 8 months

Note

JJ!!! In case I haven't said this already, congrats on one year on here and 3K!!! All absolutely deserved 💕

Okay so, as we all saw I had a very...strong and public reaction to those pictures Soonyoung posted. I also know you're likely swamped with drabble requests so, I'm opting to send you a nsfw link instead because 1. Hoshi has been rotting my brain and I need to suck his soul out (DID YOU SEE THE VEINS) and 2. So I don't write something for him myself lmao. I also felt represented by the woman in this wearing glasses lol.

NSFW link

— join the sleepover!! 🧸️

AHHHHH RJJJJJJJJ i love you sm <<33 i hope you enjoy hehe (i actually have no clue how long blurbs are supposed to be?? but this is around 500 words which seems right to me)

[minors dni!] [cw. oral (m. rec), cum eating]

"that's it, baby" soonyoung coos as he slowly lowers his cock in and out of your mouth, your lips closing around his length as he does so. you stare down your nose at his cock, watching it disppear into your mouth before pulling back out. your eyes trail up his torso, your mouth watering a bit at the sight of his tight, toned abs and the pretty veins that lead back down to his cock, your glasses giving you the perfect hd view.

soonyoung's cock is heavy on your lips, the salty taste of his pre-cum spreading across your tongue as he pushes his tip further into your mouth. your tongue presses flat against the bottom of his cock and you can feel the ridges of his thick veins as his length runs in across the surface.

"so fucking good," soonyoung grunts above you. all you can do is hum, sending vibrations through his cock, making soonyoung grunt even more. "fuck, keep that up and 'm gonna cum"

soonyoung's hips start to quicken their pace, his cock sliding further each time, until his tip finally reaches the back of your throat. you lay there, letting him fuck your mouth as you do your best to get him closer to completion, your lips sucking as hard as they can as your tongue runs along swirls around his cock.

soonyoung's breathing gets more labored as your mouth gets slicker, a mixture of spit and pre-cum dribbling down your chin and onto your chest. you're an expert at taking soonyoung's thick cock between your lips and you can feel he's close by his shallow thrusts and rapid pace.

"a-ah, shit, shit," soonyoung huffs as he quickly pulls his cock all the way out of your mouth, a pop sounds as his cock is ripped away from your lips.

soonyoung reaches down and grasps his cock in his palm, tugging at his length brutally as he aims his tip at your face. you open your mouth instinctively, ready to catch his cum on your tongue. you gasp a bit when his cock spurts out right onto your glasses, the thick substance splattering against the lenses. soonyoung continues to milk his cock (some of it finally landing your mouth), before he drops down next to you on the bed with a sigh.

"sorry 'bout your glasses," he mumbles.

you just laugh, "it's okay, i'm just glad you didn't get it my hair."

you reach up and take your glasses off, scooping the cum up with your pointer finger before popping it into your mouth. soonyoung groans slightly at the action, making a smirk spread across your face.

"you're turn now, pretty boy," you tell him, pushing your soaked panties down your legs before throwing a leg over his head, your bare pussy now straddling his face.

#rubyreduji sleepover!!#kwon soonyoung #hoshi #hoshi smut #hoshi drabble #hoshi x reader #seventeen #seventeen smut #unsafe link #rru.minis #rru.requests #rru.answers #rru.moots #rj!!#hwanghyunjinenthusiast #rru.writes #★ mdni

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dellalyra · 1 year

Note

you putting “megumi needs his mom rn” in the cw makes me wonder how he and the family reacted to yuuji dying after the detention center mission (and also what was the reaction to him coming back since i’m assuming gojo told reader before they revealed it to everyone else)

Family Formations - Part Eleven

Summary: Deja vu visits you when your son loses his best friend.

Warning: swearing, angst, acc kinda soft too, mourning, mentions of blood and vomiting, canon typical violence, MDNI

A/N: I had already started this fic when this request came through so loving the telepathy going on here. Also. This is sad. I’m sorry. I’ll make it worth it dw dw.

Recommended Listening:

Daylight - David Kushner

No Surprises - Radiohead

Ghost of You - 5 Seconds of Summer

Sparks - Coldplay

Your doorbell chimed, glancing at the clock hanging above the fireplace from you’d spot on the sofa, 8 pm? Satoru wasn’t due home until 9 pm plus - he just warped inside your home. Did he order your flowers again? You check the baby monitor and see your 4-month-old is still sound asleep in his crib.

Walking up to the door, you sensed a very familiar cursed energy. Megumi? What’s he doing here, it’s Wednesday.

You could hear the rain and thunder pouring and hitting your windows in waves.

You open the door, and you see nothing.

A whimper emanates from beside you, and on the ground – slumped against the doorway is your eldest boy.

You fall on your knees beside him.

“Megumi! Baby, what’s going on? You’re going to catch a cold.” You brush his hair out of his face, and you are stricken with the realisation that he is crying. His angular face is so devoid of any emotion, but the tears scream otherwise. You could count the number of times you’ve seen him cry in 10 years on one hand and you hadn’t been prepared for this tonight.

“Jesus, baby what’s going on?” You try to heave him up from the ground and he’s as limp as a rag doll as you try to guide him inside the door. The hallway is as far as you can manage his weight before you give in and shut the door to the outside world. He’s now just leaned against your sage green wall, if he wasn’t breathing, you’d think he was comatose.

Only now do you realise he’s bleeding. His lip is busted, and his eyebrow is too. But what type of curse would elicit this reaction?

“Megumi? Honey? Talk to me - what’s happened?” You kneel beside him, one hand on his shoulder, the other on the top of his head.

Empty eyes, now a dull blue, look up at you through lashes soaked with rain and tears.

“He’s dead.” The tiniest voice, again, void of emotions.

Satoru? No – you had been on the phone with him 20 minutes ago.

“He killed him.” His eyes are facing you – but they’re looking straight through you.

“Who’s dead, Megumi?” You probe – anxiety gripping your stomach like a vice.

“Sukuna – ripped his heart out. In front of me. Just ripped it out. His heart. He’s dead.” The words are barely intelligible in the mumbles that come from his out and you’re still as confused, Sukuna? How could- oh my god Yuuji is dead.

Yuuji Itadori.

Dead.

“Oh my god – fuck. Megumi, my sweet boy.” At this point, he turned to you.

He looked into your eyes.

He turned his head and vomited on the floor beside him.

You pull him into you, tears flooding your face as you think about that sweet, sweet boy – a soul too good for this world so brutally ripped out of it.

You wipe his mouth on your sweater sleeve and once again haul him up into your grasp he almost falls but you pull on every muscle fibre you had – you needed to get him dry and cleaned up.

A memory played in your mind, a sense of déjà vu – Satoru vomiting and sobbing and you shaking with tears curled up together – the loss of another best friend. The fates were cruel masters to make you relive this scene again.

Once he was up the stairs you lay him on his bed. Where he just sat on the edge, legs still on the ground and stared at his shoes. He went to vomit again, and this time you caught it with a bucket you’d retrieved from the closet.

“I need to get a cloth. I’ll be right back.” He didn’t acknowledge this. You just needed a moment to gather yourself before you went back in - you’d be no good to him if you continue to try to help in the state you're in, a mess of shock and grief and anger. White hot anger.

You shut the en suite door of his room behind you, and you rush to the toilet and heave up all of your remaining food at the mental image of that darling boy laying cold and dead and gutted on the ground.

You give yourself a moment – your son and you breathe so that you can deal with everything later – wait, does Satoru know?

Grabbing a cloth – you go into the room, laying the cloth down for a moment, you go into your and Satoru’s room and grab one of his sweatshirts. In Megumi’s room, you pull sweatpants from his wardrobe and look at your son. He’s dripping rainwater onto the carpet and there’s blood from his injuries mingling, tinging it pink.

You think some of the puddles might be tears, his or your own, you don’t know.

You stand in front of him, remembering the times when you’d do this to help him into his frog pyjamas - he was only 6 back then – 16 now and 5ft 9 – almost a whole foot taller than you. You lift his arms and unzip his jacket – his T-shirt underneath is soaked through too. You peel them both from him and check for cuts on his torso – bruises, old and fresh – but no blood.

You pull Satoru’s sweatshirt over his head, and he doesn’t even seem to notice that you’re moving him. He’s just limp in your arms, and you swear to anyone who’s listening to if you could take that pain and shoulder, it yourself then you would.

You peel his slacks down, pulling his sweatpants (a Christmas present from your brother) onto his lanky legs you tuck his hair behind his ears and dry it with a cloth. You then dab at his bleeding wounds, they’re clotting now, and the bleeding is stopping.

You throw the cloth away to the far side of the room.

He’s seen enough blood for today.

Tears are flowing freely from you both as you sit beside him on the edge of the bed.

Your proximity must trigger him back to this plane of existence and he looks at you.

“I couldn’t save him.”

“I know sweet boy, but it’s not your fault. You did everything you could.”

“It was a special grade – he, the curse had a finger. Our mission didn’t say any of that.”

“A special grade? Was Satoru there?” He couldn’t have been, he was in Osaka today.

“No. Just me and Kugisaki and Itadori.” His voice quavers.

You knew exactly what happened. It was clear from even the bare minimum you had heard.

But – now was not the time. Willing yourself to push the thoughts aside. Megumi doesn’t need that right now.

“You did everything you could, ‘Gumi. There was nothing you could have done.”

This was his kryptonite. A heavy, choked sob broke through the air and his body collapsed onto you.

“His heart – he ripped it out. He was right there and he just – momma, he’s dead. I couldn’t save him, Momma.” You broke down, sobbing yourself, cradling this boy – this poor broken boy, into your chest as you hugged him so tight you could feel every shake of his body in your own. You carefully moved. you both so you could sit against his headboard with his sobbing head laid on your stomach.

You are so grateful that Akio is a heavy-sleeping baby because you need to focus on your oldest son now. He needed you, and you were his to protect him, 100%.

You stroke his hair and whisper placating nothing into his ear. Nothing will fix this. Nothing will make it easier or make it feel better. You just need to be here; you just need to hold him now. You can tell him until the cows come home that he did all he could, he couldn’t have stopped Sukuna, that it was not his fault – but all these worlds will refuse to sink in until he’s ready to hear them. Yet, you tell him anyway. Over and over again.

You’ve no idea how much time passes. Your tears mingle with the lingering water on the side of his head as you cry with him but eventually, the sobs turn into heavy breaths, and you realise he’s passed out. Sheer exhaustion has taken his body hostage and for a second, you’re put at peace knowing at least right now – his mind will be quiet.

You slip your phone from your pocket, without moving or disturbing the boy on your lap.

‘Please call me.’ A message from Satoru.

You ring him.

The phone barely dials once before you hear his voice – hoarse.

“Y/N. I –”

“I know ‘Toru. Megumi came home.”

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t there.” He sounds so broken.

“You have no reason to be sorry baby, we both know how this managed to come to pass.” You hated that he always still felt the weight of the whole world on his shoulders.

“I’ll kill them all.” He says, and you know he’s serious.

“You could, but you won’t. Maybe 10 years ago – maybe then we’d have done it together. But not now, not anymore.” You reply, voice still thick with tears.

There’s silence.

“Where are you, ‘Toru?”

“The morgue.”

“Shoko?”

“On her way in.”

“I can’t leave the boys.”

“I’ll be home soon.”

“I love you.”

He hangs up the phone. Nothing more needs to be said. These feelings are sadly all too familiar to you both. You realise Shoko will have to do the autopsy.

She delivered Akio 4 months ago. Now she’d be cutting up the corpse of the boy who waited outside of the labour ward for 16 hours.

You lean your head back – closing your eyes. Flashes of a pink head tossing back in laughter and strong arms hugging you in thanks, of meatballs served to you as you nurse your newborn and the Spider-Man lamp being plugged in making you smile at the giddy teenager. The faces change, now they’re old and wrinkled and whisper words with serpentine tongues laced with deceit and heartlessness in their actions. They knew what they were doing. Satoru wasn’t in Osaka for no reason. They knew.

They all fucking knew.

They sent him to his death, knowingly and intentionally. They sent three children into a trap all because they are scared. Cowards who hide behind words of ‘the good of society’ and the guise of ‘the greater good’. Satoru and you had screamed and pushed and threatened to stay the execution, but they found a loophole anyway.

They risked Megumi and Nobara – did they think you wouldn’t piece together the big picture? Did they think that you wouldn’t realise?

You don’t know how long you sat there but your phone buzzed again.

📲Satoruuuuu is Calling… ✅⛔️

You pick up.

“He’s alive.”

“What?”

“He’s alive. Yuuji’s alive. Sukuna woke him up…” There are so many tones in his voice and so many thoughts in your head you have to close your eyes.

“Are you sure?”

“Well - he’s talking and walking so unless The Last of Us was accurate then…” he attempts a joke – relief clear in his voice.

You softly lift the head from your lap, and place it on the navy pillow. He doesn’t stir.

You walk out into your room, sitting on the balcony – the air was what you needed.

“I don’t know what to say.” That is all you can manage.

The torrent of emotions your mind went through was making you so dizzy you sat on the wooden chair looking at the sky.

“He’s not safe here, they’re going to come for him.” Satoru’s voice comes, quiet through the phone.

“What will we do?” You say.

“He needs time, he needs to train and learn to manipulate and use his cursed energy. If he can protect himself…” Satoru begins.

“We need to hide him. He can’t stay at school or come here.” Your sorcerer’s brain was switched on now.

“I can’t bring him to the Gojo estate either, the elders the family visit too much.” He speaks.

Lightbulb.

“They visit your family… but they’d never think to visit mine. Satoru, bring him to my mom’s. I’ll call her, you can train him there every day, and if we’re being watched it’s not suspicious to visit our own family. She’ll take care of him.” You say, you knew that your family would protect this boy with their lives, he was family to Megumi, family to you.

“Y/N… we can’t tell anyone. The only people who know are me, you, Shoko and Ijichi.” He says, and your heart stops.

You’ll have to lie to Megumi.

“Fuck. It’s too dangerous for him to know – if they catch wind of this, and they find out he knows…” you say.

“He’ll be branded a traitor. Who knows what they’d do for information.”

“He’s going to hate us.”

“He’ll understand. He’s a smart kid.”

“Come home to me, to us – ‘toru. Bring him to my parents and then please come home.” You whisper to him.

He agrees and tells you he loves you.

The weeks fly by as you feel yourself crumbling from the weight of the sadness spilling from your son, Kugisaki isn’t much better and Satoru is still reeling from the elder’s deceit. You stormed to the council meeting the following day and threatened to burn the place to the ground if they so much as considered harming a hair on the head of the other kids.

“Unfortunate circumstances occur on missions. Nobody knows the outcome of these situations.” They fought.

“Oh – you knew the outcome of this one. You knew full well. All of you, every single one of you knew and you allowed it. In legal terms, that’s murder. You’re all sociopaths and whatever awaits you in the next world, I hope it hurts even a fraction of the pain you’ve all caused. Endanger my family again, and I’ll deal with you all personally – never mind Satoru.”

The training was going well – you had gone to your mother’s house two days after his resurrection, after the water cooled and you were sure you weren’t being surveilled.

You had run to Yuuji, running your eyes and hands over every bit of him, checking for wounds and crying into his shoulder. He had died, and somehow you were being comforted by him.

Satoru and you explained the situation, taking turns to train with him. They came up with a ridiculous idea of Yuuji playing Jack in the Box at the exchange event all you could do was allow it.

Back home – you explained to Megumi that the mission had been a nefarious plot concocted by the elders and higher ups to get rid of Yuuji, since you and your husband kept getting in the way – they took the opportunity of your maternity leave to send Gojo to Osaka and place the kids in the path of a Special Grade Curse. You hoped being armed with this information would help him understand why you and Satoru had lied to him, and allowed him to grieve. It hurt you, but his safety was paramount.

When the day came and Yuuji was released, you stood beside Megumi as he and Nobara watched him return from the dead. Jaws hanging open, they couldn’t tear their eyes from their friend.

Reunions and rejoicing complete, you and Satoru pulled Megumi by the sleeve away from the scene, into your classroom.

When the door shut, you began to sob.

“‘Gumi, I’m so sorry. We didn’t have any choice but to keep it a secret. It –” Satoru wraps you into his chest.

“We had to keep it secret, because they would have killed anyone involved if they found out, kiddo. We had to keep you safe.” He says hand on Megumi’s shoulder and a crying wife clinging to him.

“It’s okay.” Megumi shrugs.

You freeze, you thought he’d never forgive you.

“What?” You and Satoru say in unison.

“I get why you did it. Thank you, guys, – for helping him, and uh – for protecting us all.” He says and God this boy will never fail to amaze you. His maturity was something you and Satoru could only have dreamed of at his age and even rarer was hearing such genuine praise from him – he was softer with you, but this was directed to you both.

Wordlessly, you and Satoru wrapped him in your arms and he begrudgingly and awkwardly reciprocated the affection.

Over his head, you looked at your husband. His crystalline eyes filled with relief and love for you and your patchwork family, and you pressed a soft kiss to his lips – a silent thank you for everything you do. The road was never easy, but God was it worth it.

TAGLIST: @vesta-ro @lilithlunas @mialexandruh @sassy-cat-in-town @madam-ri @cjm-cookiethief

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #jjk #jjk x reader #gojo fluff #anime #dad!gojo #megumi angst #megumi fushiguro #itadori yuuji #pixie writes: family formations

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nervousd · 1 year

Text

Side Story— Punishment

→ Infatuation | m.list

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#SYNOPSIS— you’ve ignored a direct order from Quaritch.

#WARNING(S)— This is a dark fic, yandere, manipulative/ manipulation, unhealthy obsession, unhealthy fixation, implications of dubcon, non-consensual touching, dark quaritch, abuse of power, dubcon/noncon, smut, older man/younger woman, age gap, voyeurism(?) spanking, pussy spanking,

#CHARACTER(S)— Colonel Miles Quaritch,

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You teeth gnawed at your lip, tears streaming down your rosy cheeks. Your hair was tussled and tangled from the harsh yank you received from the Colonel. It was to your displeasure that Quaritch had found out you were planning to leave with the science pukes. He had specifically told you, under no circumstances would you go. A direct order from him— and you deliberately went against him. You quieted down your sobs, breath hitching as you gazed up at him. His icy blue gaze pierced through your soul, a swirl of emotions in them. He was disappointed in you— he was furious to keep seeing you choose others instead of him.

Wasn’t he kind to you? Wasn’t he wonderful to you? He used his own rank to give you but the best of things, oh you wanted steak for dinner? He would order it for you, oh you wanted a nice silk blouse? He would provided it for you. He did everything for you. And yet you do things like these— actions that go against him. But nothing he won’t able to straighten up, you needed a firm hand to keep you in your place. It was the only way you would learn.

His eyes narrowed, he would be lying if he said you weren’t a pretty sight. Puffy swollen lips, flushed face and bright doe glistening eyes, Oh— and the cherry on top? Your blouse ripped and strained from his prowess. A reminder of his brutal strength and the power he had over you. He gripped onto your forearm dragging you towards his desk uncaring of your unbalanced steps. He slammed you down, pressing a flat palm on your back.

❝ Quaritch please— ❞ your begging had gone ignored, he refused to even entertain your pathetic cries. He won’t be swayed by your begging or whimpering; if anything it might just make his cock hard but it certainly won’t get you out of this punishment. ❝ Not another word you brat— not a single word ❞ he hissed through clenched teeth. You struggled against his grasp but not once did he budge. ❝ Quaritch! ❞ you pleaded, hiccuping as you felt his hands wander down toward your ass. With a firm grip on your skirt he brought down the fabric ❝ You wanted to act like brat? You’ll be treated like a brat ❞

His hands groped your flesh, rubbing soothing circles with his thumb ❝ It’s my fault really— spoiled you too much. But don’t worry, daddy will fix that attitude of yours ❞ He left a quick pat on your ass, fingers fumbling with his belt. A wave of dread washed over you, the clinking of a belt buckle unlatching was the only residing sound. ❝ No!— Stop— Stop! Don’t you dare!— ❞ SMACK-! You let out a cry of pain feeling the sting of leather land painfully on your ass. The pain had shot up your spine, your legs kicking helplessly.

Fresh tears rolled down your cheeks, SMACK-! Your body jolted forward another cry of pain leaving your lips. The leather rested where it had landed— a threat. Your body racked with sobs as you continued to wail in pain. You struggled against him trying to slip away from his painful grip ❝ Quit yer’ moving!— damnit! ❞ the belt slipped from his fingers adding further damage to his anger. Curling his lips up into a snarl, he reared his hand back landing a painful hit on your ass. The force caused the flesh of your ass to ripple from the impact. You screamed out in pain, another batch of fresh tears bursting from your eyes. Your ass felt like it was on fire and Quaritch showed no signs of letting up. Humiliation and shame washed over you, you’ve never expected to be punished like a child

His cruelty knew no bounds, he would deliberately target the same spot he’s hit over and over again; refusing to wait for the throbbing pain to die down before he struck again. ❝Please—Stop quaritch! It hurts—! ❞ His wicked assaults continued, ❝Maybe next time you’ll think your actions through— ❞ He spat out in frustration, landing another painful smack on your ass. Your body wracked with an onslaught of tears and sobs. The sound of wailing and suffering echoed throughout the room. His hands were brutal as they hit your reddening cheeks again and again. You screamed and sobbed out in pain, unable to restrain yourself from begging him to stop. To please— stop He ignored your chocked up cries.

The faintest ghost of a cruel smile touched his lips, he enjoyed hearing your pitiful cries. Quaritch took a step back, gazing at the appreciated sight in front of him. His pretty girl bent over with fresh markings decorating your ass. His eyes narrowed dangerously, eyeing the way your feet shuffle uncomfortably. Unaware of the proactive view you’re giving him, your hips jerked in surprise feeling his fingers creep closer to your cunt. Your breath hitched, hips wiggling to stray from his touch. You shook like a leaf dreading what’s to come ❝ Quaritch ❞ you cried out, ❝ please, don’t ❞

His fingers pressed against your covered cunt, his thumb circled your weeping hole. Quaritch sucked in a breath, pleasantly surprised to feel your cunt dripping. Poor thing— it was begging to be touched, to be full of him. SMACK—! He landed a solid hit on your clit, your thighs buckled unexpectedly. A sob tore through your throat as your body trembled in agony. He drew his hand back— ❝ Colonel? It’s me Corporal Wainfleet, Parker wants to have a word with you ❞ Paying no mind to the continuous knocking on his door, Quaritch pulled aside your underwear; ❝ Colonel? ❞ the knocking continued. His fingers brushed against your clit, rolling it between his fingers even going as far as pinching it cruelly.

❝ Colonel? ❞ The knocking continue, progressing onto louder bangs. Quaritch let out a ‘tsk’ annoyed that he was being interrupted. Scowling, he drew his hand leaving you weeping cunt drooling for attention. Amongst your small pitiful cries you could hear Quaritch getting annoyed by Lyles persistent in going to see Parker. It didn’t take long to convince him to go, implicating that Parker was ready to unleash another tantrum when things weren’t going right. The door was slammed shut, Quaritch was gone leaving you alone in his office. You sniffled through your tears, body trembling as pain coursed throughout your body.

You couldn’t even bring yourself to stand up on your shaking legs, residing to staying still on the desk. You don’t know how long you stayed like that— seconds, minutes— maybe hours but in the end you were left to your own devices, choosing to wallow in your humiliation.

→ Tag List

━━━ : © NERVOUS.D

#dark colonel miles quaritch #colonel miles #miles quaritch #dark miles quaritch #dark quaritch #colonel miles quaritch x reader #colonel miles quaritch #yandere colonel miles quaritch x reader #yandere colonel #yandere quaritch #quaritch x reader #miles quaritch x reader #avatar #yandere avatar the way of water #avatar the way of water #avatar the way of water x reader #avatar x reader

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lokisgoodgirl · 1 year

Text

Holy Orders: Mercy [Avenger!Loki x Fem.Reader]

Part of the Hostile F*cks Collection A Link to my (new) Masterlist is HERE Summary: (18) Inner demons come out to play, as Loki ends his mission in Rome with a theatrical flourish. (w/c 3.2k) Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Smut. Sacrilege. Desecration. Language. Hell awaits. Mild angst. All will be well.

Loki’s groans sounded against your wet lips as he pulled away. The green and gold shimmering vestments flowed lavishly around his huge frame, yanking you roughly from the wall. You stumbled as he began to stride down the side of the church, past the rows of stoic wooden pews scratched and worn from a thousand prayers. One of your sandals caught, making you wince as it popped from your foot and skated beyond reach. But now was not the time. His grip was firm around your wrist, pulling you easily up the low steps towards the pinnacle of sanctity. He suddenly spun you, switching positions and pinning you against the front of the smooth, sacrosanct marble altar.

The nave of the church stretched behind him, a narrow passageway of serenity broken only by the sound of your heavy breathing. Loki’s fingers roamed over your waist, over the curve of your breasts; the grumbles of desire building in his throat as his darkening eyes flashed. The digits slid up your cheekbones, his immense palms cupping the sides of your face before he was upon you. You found your own fingers winding in his hair, whimpers of need mewling from your lips between messy clashes of tongue. His kiss was savage, a maniacal arousal which made the air around your bodies hot. Like a woman possessed, your hands found their way to his neckline, a brutal rip resounding up to the ornate vaulted ceiling as you tore the beautiful green fabric from his chest. It split to his naval, fingers popping buttons on the descent from the innocent shirt he wore beneath.

“Is this what you want, Agent?” he moaned mockingly, as one of his hands slid over your groin. “To corrupt me. Destroy me. Disgrace me in a church of God?” A gentle stoop of his broad shoulders let him catch beneath the hem of your thin summer dress, the scent of his warmed chest tantalisingly close. “Loki I...can I-” you spluttered, fighting against the desire to let him ravage you the way he always did. His hand grasped at the soft flesh of your thigh, devilish pants catching in his throat as his hard-on pitched the swathes of holy garb hanging against his hips. “Loki stop-” you gasped, pushing his hand away from your jaw. You swept away the fingers sinking into your thigh; Loki’s digits falling to your shoulder as he studied your face – lust melting to confusion. Your firm voice continued to echo around the domed ceiling, vibrations seeming to ring in your ears long after it had evaporated. His hand slid down your bare arm to the wrist, fingertips trailing over every centimetre of skin as though for the last time, until it fell by his side.

“Yes?” he whispered saltily, features hardening. He looked resigned, drawing up to his full height as sunlight illuminated a burst of glow behind his raven hair. “I was wondering if...since we’re here, in Rome, and everything – could we...could you..-” “-Oh, out with it, woman.” he scoffed, folding his arms. A tinge of pink had appeared in his cheeks. You took a deep breath. “Could you maybe not fuck me like...-”

Trailing off awkwardly, you noticed that the pink flush had spread to the tips of his ears. “Yes?!” he hissed venomously, the muscle in his jaw clenching. “Like you hate me.” you blurted, glancing to the side as your fingers brushed the smooth surface of the altar he had owned just ten minutes before. “Just once.”

The god tilted his head, long strands of dark curls catching on the embroidery of his sacred robes. “Hate you?” he snarled. “Whatever gave you that impression?” You raised an eyebrow, biting your tongue as you felt your cheeks heat with frustration. “Ummm, maybe the hundred times you’ve told me that?”

Loki snorted. “Only after you did. And besides, you enjoy it.” He stepped forward, hair falling across his cheekbones tingling against your forehead. “Don’t you, Agent?” he whispered. You shrugged, covering a shiver. “I just think it would be fun to see what it’s like when you’re not so…” “-Hostile?” he finished, the ghost of a penitent smile flickering at the corner of his mouth. You rolled your eyes, running a hand through your hair and trying not to react to the tip of his nose grazing down your temple. “Salvation, wasn’t it?” he murmured, the scrape of his shoes on the marble floor like sandpaper as he shuffled even closer, hips pressed to yours. There was a tinge of sadness in his voice that you hadn’t heard before. It was unsettling; as he inhaled against your hair, his words no more than a wisp of air. “What you prayed for. Salvation.” He let out a shuddering sigh, catching himself before he stoically continued. “Deliverance from your torment.” You dared to look up at him, eyes wide. Warmth bounced in the shallows of his cheekbones, hues of gold and burnt sunrise dancing in reflections over perfect skin. The placid features set on his face were marred only by the faint knit of his brows. Contemplation, perhaps; as his grip tightened around the edge of the marble by your side. Trapping you. “Loki, I-…” you started, swallowing quietly as he pressed a finger to your lips. “Let me grant you the absolution you desire, Agent.” he whispered sombrely. “Let me at least do that.”

Before you could speak, his lips fastened gently to the curve of your neck. They caressed downward, every achingly soft kiss making you melt into his touch. Your head fell back as he burrowed against the skin, a low growl of satisfaction rumbling from his bare chest to yours as his hands gently gripped your hips. Light from the stained glass windows illuminated the colours behind your eyelids, speckles of gold and burgundy making love in fragrant waves.

“Like this?” he murmured against your ear. You nodded, a soft mewl of confirmation all you could manage as he lifted you easily atop the altar. His tongue massaged your own in haunting rhythm, strength rising and falling like the tide. The pulse of his stiff cock against your inner thigh was unbearable, his tentative unlacing of the binds holding your neckline together sending swirls of unfamiliar comfort through your veins. You carded your fingers through his hair, pushing back the waxy tendrils settled around his jaw. God, his cheekbones really are perfect; you thought, as you ran a fingertip along one sharp edge. He’s perfect. Loki’s eyes met your own as he studied your face, the solemn gaze threatening to swallow you whole as he ran it slowly from your parted lips back to your unwavering stare.

“Pilgrim…” Loki murmured thoughtfully, toying at the tatters of his holy robes left in your wake. “It seems your journey is at an end.” The thick fabric split like tissue paper beneath his gentle touch, running in a straight rip below his hips. His fingers made quick work of the simple leather belt buckle, metal tinkling lightly as he reached inside and pulled forth his majestic cock. Your breath hitched. It never gets old, you thought; feeling saliva well in your mouth as he stroked back and forth. Loki’s brows slanted, a wordless question tinged with desperation. You thought you saw his free hand tremble, before he clenched it to a fist.

He stepped between your spread legs, pressing the meat of his flawless cock against your wet slit. "Speak Latin to me." you said shyly, pulling at the clerical collar wrapped snug at his neck above the splayed sides of his shirt. Loki laughed softly, the tilt of his head to the ceiling making his jawline flash. He lowered it towards you, teeth pulling at his bottom lip. "In nomine patris...et fili...spiritus sancti..." he enunciated formally, narrowing his eyes. "Amen." you whispered seductively in response as you pressed your centre against his pulsing cock. Loki smirked. “Goddess…” he hummed, pushing a strand of hair from your cheek. You gasped with mock-disapproval. “Sacrilege.” you said warily, making Loki’s lip curl in a knowing smile. “Heresy, then…” he growled, a glint in his eye as he dragged the thick column of hot flesh between your soaking folds. There was a heavy silence as Loki’s bare chest flanked by richest forest green fabric rose and fell with every breath. He tilted his chin downward, the flash of his tongue forming words before he thought better of it. Dark lashes fanned against the delicate skin beneath his eyes, a rogue curl of ebony hair falling over that regal brow. “Desecrate me, Padre…” you coyed, looping a foot around to his ass and letting the other join it. Crossing your ankles, you pulled him the final inch flush to your body, “-nicely, of course.” Loki’s placid features twisted in amusement, his dimples flashing in the morning sun through the windows high above. “I thought you’d never ask, mia cara.” he purred. The thick tip of his manhood nudged against your entrance, making you whimper as your slid your hands over his shoulders. The clerical collar flexed against the thick vein straining in his neck. Rigid. Immovable. “Loki...yes...uhh-fuck-L-Loki-” you gasped loudly as he breached your slick entrance.

“-Don’t call me that…” he growled, deep lines in his forehead twitching with the effort of restraint as he inched slowly deeper, the edge of marble dragging against his turgid length. “-the m-mission.” You smiled, eyes still shut as your lips stretched against your teeth in pleasure. “If someone s-somehow walks in on us right now...I think your c-cover is blown...uhhh g-god - regardless” you groaned as he bottomed out. Twin moans bounced eerily around the walls of the empty church as he stilled, ricocheting back to you clinging to the god’s body with your legs wrapped around his hips. Loki nuzzled your ear, his hot breath making you buck against him. “Not necessarily, Agent. You would be surprised.” he smirked against your cheek. He began to move, waves of muscle slapping gently against your open thighs. The thick veins lining his cock tugged against your fluttering walls, every pulse like a current through the last vestige of your resistance. Each roll of his hips was devastating, lilting moans of praise peppering your name in the air. You had never heard him say it like that. Come to think of it, you couldn’t recall him saying it at all.

The flats of your palms spread against the altar, sliding backwards as a golden candlestick clattered to the floor. It bounced several times, falling loudly down the steps as Loki lowered you backwards against his hand. “You are so beautiful.” he murmured reverently against the dying, rolling echo of metal on marble, stooping to lower a kiss on the centre of your clavicle. “So beautiful…” he repeated quietly against a muffle of heated skin. You ran a hand through his curls, cupping the base of his skull as he thrust in melodic motion, making your calves tighten around his waist. You bucked rhythmically against him, the motion of your bodies as smooth and poetic as the chant of his prayers. Somewhere, a bell began to toll. Loki’s grip tightened on the back of your dress, his fingers grasping at the textured cheesecloth scratching against your spine. You drew forwards, strands of hair falling over your forehead as you took in the sight of Loki lost in the pleasure he found in you. You could feel the muscles of his ass clenching beneath the drape of holy fabric hanging sluttishly against his hips, each squeeze of your thighs as he fucked you making you mewl his name. Fucks me? No. you thought desperately, arching your back against his hand. This is what it feels like when he’s making love.

Loki’s hand slid up your back, cupping the nape of your neck as he brought you forward to his open mouth. The kiss was needy, tasting every crevice of your lips and tongue against his own like he was departing for war. “Mark me…” you gasped against his cheek when he broke for air, feeling the beat of his chuckle against your chest. “That would be against the terms of your request, I fear…” he groaned, lingering the head of his furiously hard cock just inside your pussy. “Gods, I can feel how much you want it.” he growled, circling the tip licentiously at the catch of your cunt. Arousal slipped against the pull of his foreskin as he shamelessly devoured your emotions with his mind, wetness coating every inch of straining length. It pulsed, tiny flicks of his hips keeping you desperately on edge. “Although perhaps…” he added mysteriously, a flash of mischief in his eyes. Loki’s wide tip never left you as he leant gracefully to the side, fingers curling around the second ornate candlestick gracing the hallowed altar. He raised an eyebrow, enjoying the look of growing confusion on your face.

He brought it upwards, level to your searching eyes before tilting his head. Automatically, your back arched, pushing your chest forward as he mirrored his movement with a tilt of his hand. The hot, pooled wax spilled against your chest, dripping on the mounds of flesh heaving gently with each shuddering breath. Loki groaned softly, watching the white substance melt leisurely in a trail beyond his sight down the neckline of your dishevelled dress. “Perfect.” he murmured, setting the ornate candlestick back in place. He brought a finger to your skin, gathering the slowly hardening beeswax with intricate care. You looked down, seeing a thick circle had been formed on the curve of your left breast. A smile tugged at Loki’s lips, before his eyelids fluttered shut. You had clenched around the tip of his cock, reminding him.

“Patience, mia cara.” he growled playfully, bringing his hand between you with a flourish. In a low glow of green, something appeared between his fingers. It was thick, and short. It looked heavy, and...old. “W-what is that?” you stammered, breath catching as he thrust another few inches inside your tightened pussy. Loki’s smile widened. “My seal.” he said, flipping the object to face you. The base was a tarnished gold, scuffed with use and history that you couldn’t begin to fathom. On the metal, a double headed snake was carved, intricate endless tips wound around each other.

“Wars have begun, and been ended with this mark, Agent.” he murmured, exhaling hot breath gently on the circle of hardening wax on your breast. He licked his lips, eyes flickering to yours nervously. “And now...” You gasped as the chill of metal pressed against your flesh, the cool edges over spilling their target. Loki rolled it from side to side in practised decorum, capturing your lips with his own. A slow tug let you know the seal had been withdrawn; before you heard the sound of the heavy token fall to the floor with a clang by his feet. Loki’s hands gripped the sides of your thighs, pulling your spread legs flush to his hips as he bottomed out once more. A roar simmered in his throat as his grasp tightened; shallow, messy thrusts tilting into your centre as you squirmed on the side of the altar. You could feel the urgency in every jab of his tongue, your walls fluttering with the first sparks of long-denied orgasm. “Loki, I’m c-coming…” you moaned in his ear, feeling him shudder as your arms tightened around his shoulders. They slid down his biceps, grasping for purchase against the tattered fabric of his disguise as he rocked you over the edge of sanity. Climax shattered you from the inside out, cries of pleasure ringing in your ears as you came around him. The feral ache in your belly which had weighted you for weeks blossomed to a thousand strands of bliss, spreading and growing like wine in water. Loki’s pants grew shallow, careful thrusts becoming erratic delving deeper into the flood of your fresh cum. His chest jolted, a hand flying to the edge of the marble altar by your thigh in crushing precision. You heard a harsh crack, the whites of his knuckles glaring as he spent himself inside your wet, pulsating heat with a primal, endless moan of your name. And then there was silence, only wordless heavy breathing filling the warmed air between your bodies. Mussed hair fell around the god’s cheekbones, his eyes lowered as he wet his lips. He sighed. “I plead mercy, Agent…” he murmured slowly, running the tip of his nose against your temple. You felt a shiver roll down your spine. “I will only ask you one last time. Swallow your pride, and tell me that you love me.” A well of adrenaline flushed your blood, a deep longing to say the words flooding your mind before you came to your senses. “Tell me the truth, Loki” you said, brushing a strand of onyx from his brow. Your fingers grazed beneath his chin, raising his face to yours. “I need to know I can trust you-” He inhaled sharply, withdrawing from your touch with a jolt of his head. “I...I cannot.” he said, his voice clouded beneath knitted brows. “Why?!” you said incredulously, feeling his softening cock slide from your entrance. Sentimentality, forgotten. “I cannot!” he shouted. You bit your lip as the malevolent echo ricochet endlessly. The look in his eyes was pained. The quiver of his lip, the slant of his brows. It was raw, you realised with a drop in your stomach. It was real. “Loki, I don’t think you understand. I just need you to be honest with me without being so…-”

“-So what, Agent? Myself?” You let out a sigh of exasperation. “I was going to say dramatic.” you muttered, as Loki’s magic glimmered up his body. Strips of holy ripped green fabric stitched itself together, the embroidery as perfectly matched as it had been before you ever touched him. “I think I understand perfectly well.” he muttered, smoothing his sex-wild hair behind his ears before impaling you with a piercing glare.

“No matter how many times I try to open myself to you, it is only the shadows of my heart you linger in. It is only in the depths of my darkness you feel truly comfortable – just like all the rest. And when it comes to declaring where you stand, in the shadows you remain.” he growled, stepping towards you. He loomed, his lips hovering tantalisingly close, his scent mingled with heavy incense and spices swirling in the air of the sacrosanct space. Loki’s eyes searched yours, a silent plead wavering behind his hardened features. Your breaths felt heavy, every drag of air suffocating as you tried to speak and failed.

Loki shook his head. “I wanted you to find the light.” he rasped quietly, trailing his knuckles down the bodice of your dress before thinking better of it. They clenched in a fist. “But I see now how this must be. How it has always been for us.” In one swift movement, he ascended the steps, beginning to stride down the narrow aisle towards the entrance. The theatrical vestments billowed around his ankles, as imposing in church finery as he was in Asgardian battle armour. A grating ca-lunk of the metal bar sliding across its hold unaided made your blood run cold. Loki’s outstretched arms blew the ancient wooden doors wide on their hinges, banging menacingly against the stone. What have I done? you thought with a fierce chill; stunned panic rising as your body seemed to turn to lead in the wake of his heavy footsteps.

The wax of his seal suddenly crumbled to dust on your skin, blowing mockingly around your collarbone from the breeze of the open church doors. You felt it stick to your moist lips as Loki disappeared to the bustling piazza beyond the sanctuary's boundaries without a backwards glance. “Mercy.” you gasped under your breath, running your fingers over the sticky cast the wax seal had left over your cleavage. Over my heart. Casting a glance over your shoulder, you felt your gaze drawn inescapably up to the majestic baroque stained glass window, the brightness almost blinding. Your eyelids fluttered shut as the church doors slammed closed with shuddering finality. “Mercy.” you whispered again, deafening silence the only response.

A/N: And here we are - the final set is imminent! Cross your fingers my loves, here we go! Continued in Final Bids (Finale pt1) Part of the Hostile F*cks Collection Tags @gigglingtigger @meowmeow-motherfucker @muddyorbsblr @imalovernotahater @avengersalways @littledark11 @lokikissesmyforehead @simplyholl @fictive-sl0th @thedistractedagglomeration @loveroflokiforpoeticjustice @coldnique @holdmytesseract @jaidenhawke @silverfire475 @wheredafandomat @vbecker10 @imalovernotahater @thomase1 @morriggannlostinfandoms @marygoddessofmischief @sebstanwhore @xorpsbane @peacefulpianist @maple-seed @yelkmelk @wheredafandomat @mistress-ofmagic @goblingirlsarah @ozymdias @peaches1958 @your-taste-on-my-lips @lokidokieokie @kikster606 @peachyjinx @tbhiddlestan83 @trickster-maiden @skymoonandstardust @justjoanne242 @sidepartskinnyjeans @ladyofthestayingpower @wolfmoonmusic @brittbax @cheekyscamp @smolvenger @lunarnights95 @aliciamata

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tearsofcalamity · 8 months

Text

mr. cold feet p2

⊹ character(s). sampo koski ⊹ genre. n/sfw ⊹ tags. gn!afab!reader (no prns, but reader has female anatomy), dom/top!reader, sub/bottom!sampo, riding, dacryphilia, overstimulation, slight edging, slight degrading, reader calls sampo puppy/slut/whore, sampos a whimperer we all know it, reader's kinda mean but sampo likes it

congrats... you found my little side blog .... ;3 head on over to meaningofaeons for p1, but this can be read standalone! also, trying a diff writing style for this blog ^w^

MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DNI PLEASE!

a nice reservation at the goethe hotel, all on sampo's dime.

the nice thing though, really, was having such an insufferable man trapped beneath you, stuck between you and the bed.

it was only fitting that he be in such a position after all the trouble he'd caused you.

seeing him whimper wasn't all that bad either.

"p-please," sampo murmured, a vice grip on your wrist as you ran your hand over his tent, just barely giving him the slightest twinges of pleasure with each motion.

you'd had him like this for well over a half an hour, and you could see the tears gathering in his eyes.

even with the minimal stimulation, he'd gotten quite close to cumming a few times, before you noticed and brutally ripped away all pleasure from him.

"w-when— hah— when I invited you back here, mm... it w-wasn't for this, sweetheart..." sampo tries to coax you, putting on his best puppy-dog eyes. his attempt is interrupted as his brows pull together when you rub particularly slowly over his clothed tip, agonizing with every motion.

"cute names won't get you anywhere, koski. I'm sick of your schemes. you nearly got me in trouble with pela and the other guards last time."

"I sa—aah, ah!—said I'm sorry!" he cries between huffs, giving an experimental buck into your hand. the moment he does so, he freezes up, your darkened eyes sending a shiver up his spine.

"you did, huh? you said you're sorry..." you hum contemplatively, and the man eagerly cants his hips forward again, taking any opening he can.

he almost regrets his cheekiness when you plant both hands on the openings at his hips and push, shoving him further into the plush of the mattress. he whines at the loss of your hand on his hard on, but the pout he dons is immediately replaced by a wolflike grin when you practically tear at his pants to get them off.

"then I suppose you deserve some kind of reward for apologizing. don't you think?"

"y-yes, haah, please—mm, yes!" he whines like a dog in heat, twitching at every slight brush against his cock. you yank his boxers off next, and you don't know if you've ever seen sampo look so happy.

"please! please!" he chants over and over.

"so polite, sampo. such a good boy."

so, you give him what he wants.

precum practically oozes from his tip as he wretchedly thrusts into the air, giving you just the slide you needed to start jerking him off with vigor. he lets out a howl of pleasure, his hands grasping at the sheets, tearing at them as you moved your fingers in a ring up and down his shaft.

schlick, schlick, schlick

he's panting, whining, moaning, not even half sure what to do with himself as you lean down and let your tongue writhe into his slit.

sampo almost reaches to grasp at your hair, to try and get your mouth to move just a bit further down, but even through his hazy thoughts he knows there's a high chance of you ripping away all pleasure should he try such a thing.

as if sensing his desperation and granting him a sliver of mercy, you take his cockhead into your mouth, sucking hard and lashing your tongue across it over and over.

the bitter taste of his pre hits your tastebuds, but it's outweighed by the sweet yelp he lets out.

"more—more, please! y/n, please, please—" sampo's expression is completely fucked out when you glance up at him, tear tracks already prevalent on his cheeks as his tongue nearly lolls out of his mouth.

"g-gonna cum! please—hah! please! cumming! 'm cumming!"

right... he always was pretty easy. or maybe that's just the effect you have on him.

to his amazement, you only speed up your motions, his wanton cries heard and appreciated as his load spills past your lips. he's panting heavily, desperate to catch his breath, a dazed smile on his face as he stares down at you with adoration.

his smile quickly falls at your cruel smirk. then, your hand begins moving again.

"w-wait, wait—ah! ah! wait!" he begins pleading, eyes blown wide as you pick up your pace, thumb digging into his slit now in place of your tongue. he grits his teeth, throwing his head back and exposing his pretty white neck to you as he lets out a loud moan.

you lean up as you jack him off, pressing yourself against his chest as he writhes in place, biting his lip hard. he's sniffling already, the soft noises punctuated by the moans he's letting slip.

"y/n, p-please, hurts, please," sampo begs, pulling his best teary, pitiful gaze on you. it's interrupted by another particularly long stroke, his mouth falling open as he struggles against you. "please! can't—"

"oh, yes you can," you smile wickedly, wringing more cries out of him. he grips the sheets so hard his knuckles turn white, eyes rolling back into his head as you bite down on his neck, leaving a nice mark on his pretty flesh.

eventually, the conman's whines and begs for you to stop devolve into mindless ramblings, his pleads shifting to asking for more once again as you bring him closer and closer to the edge, one hand circling his head while the other covers every inch of his shaft.

less cum spurts out from his spent cock once that coil in his belly snaps for the second time, the release leaving him trembling beneath your form.

"'m sorry... 'm sorry, so sorry—" sampo whimpers, flinching as you wipe his tears away, lip pouty, eyes shining. "won't... hah... won't ever do it again, please..."

the poor fool, in too much of a daze, doesn't even notice you lining up your entrance with his, not until you take him all in in one fluid motion.

his head flies back into the pillow again, the pain more prominent alongside the pleasure this time around thanks to your prior ministrations. your walls squeeze around his dick, and sampo moans despite himself, hands finding purchase on your hips.

he begins haphazardly thrusting up into you, catching you by surprise. but it only brings another grin to your face as you watch his eyes roll back again.

"oh? poor, dumb puppy," you huff out, immediately slamming your hips against his, causing him to cry out. his expression has formed into a nice, fucked-dumb smile, a pretty flush on his cheeks as he pants and grasps at your flesh. "you got all the cum wrung out of you, yet you're still so desperate for the little bit of pleasure you can chase. so pathetic. and here I thought you 'didn't invite me here for this.'"

"haah... haah, yes, mm— please, please," sampo whines, graciously accepting your lips as you kiss him sloppily, moving against him with vigor.

"can't even respond properly? too fucked out, slut?"

the blue-haired man nods, going for another kiss. you only grab his chin, pushing his head into the pillow as you quicken your motions. his cock slides in and out of you with ease, grazing that spot in you that makes your toes curl.

"come on. tell me what you are. or are you too dumb to do that? huh, sampo?"

you grind yourself down onto sampo, and he grabs onto you tighter. you can tell by the tears welling up in his lovely green eyes that he's about to cum again.

wet noises fill the space between you two as your juices mix with his cum-soaked cock, an unbearable heat just waiting to be quenched as you speed up.

"ah— please! gonna—"

"that's not what I asked, whore."

your hips slow, and his eyes are on yours immediately, pleading, desperate, begging you with his gaze alone to not stop.

"no! n-no! 'm sorry! I'm—"

"say it."

"I'm..." sampo bites his lip, tossing his head back again when you grind down, chasing your own pleasure. he moans with abandon. "I'm your slut, I'm your slut, pl-please, please, make me cum, fuck! fuck! please, make me cum! lemme cum!"

his words begin to slur together, and you laugh in his face, your cruelty punctured by a groan from your lips as you feel your own peak getting closer.

"all right, all right. go on, sampo," you tease, licking a stripe up his neck and painting his flesh with marks.

"ah— ah! ah! c-cumming! g-gonna—"

poor sampo can't even finish his sentence before his grasp becomes bruising, fingers digging into the flesh of your hips as his thrusts go sloppy, his creamy seed filling you to the brim and spilling out past your cunt, overflowing.

you bite your lip, riding out your own high, gushing onto his cock as his warmth pumps inside of you.

you never would've expected he'd have that much left to give after before, but you always did get him going in a way you could never predict.

sampo is completely spent after that, his breathing desperate and haggard as he falls back onto the sheets. you spend a few moments catching your own breath, tousling his blue locks as he stares up at you with glistening eyes.

"so mean to me," he murmurs, burying his face into your neck. you only chuckle.

"as if you didn't lure me in here for all of this to begin with. you knew I wouldn't be merciful."

"lure you in?! hah!" sampo has the audacity to huff and sound offended. "the gall. I invited you here for a lovely, date-like evening, and yet—"

you cut him off when you slowly move to get off of him, his words trailing off as his eyes follow the cum dripping out of your cunt.

"sampo?"

"hey, y/n..." the blue-haired man regains his energy, moving to push your knees apart and slot himself right between your thighs, looking up at you from below. his grin is foxlike. "would ya be opposed to your good buddy sampo cleaning you up a little? y'know, to pay you back for before... the whole mr. cold feet thing, and all..."

your surprise turns into a little laugh, immediately reaching forward to grab and tug on his hair. sampo looks all-too pleased with the action, humming pleasurably as he already began nipping and kissing at your inner thighs, wet with your slick.

"well, who would I be to decline the first well-intentioned offer I've ever received from the sampo koski?"

sampo pouts a bit at that, but quickly huffs out a small moan as his cock grazes the bedsheets, his stamina returning with the prospect of eating you out good.

"I'll do my best to repay the favor~"

#sampo x reader #sampo koski #sub sampo #hsr x reader #honkai x reader #honkai star rail #hsr #sub hsr #sub honkai star rail #n/sfw #tw n/sfw

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acourtofwhatthefuck · 4 months

Note

Conquests for wip game

So I can’t remember when the hell I wrote this or what the hell it was supposed to be, but as I haven’t written much, I’ll just put what there is under the cut 😏🫶🏻

Warning: smut 🔥🔥

Brutal hands grasped your hips. The touch was bruising, the scratch of calluses and scars alike a heady scrape that bit into your skin and seemed to only urge your pleasure on. It was the third climax to have ripped through your body that night.

“Fuck!” Azriel, the shadowsinger, the High Lord’s spymaster and perhaps the most mysterious, elusive male in all of Prythian — in your opinion, anyway — threw his head back and groaned his release in panting, breathless noises. His hips stuttered, his cock twitching inside you.

He was a generous lover — or, at least, that was certainly the impression you’d got after your four heady, brilliant fucks over the last three weeks. The fact that he kept coming back may have been a little stroke to your ego.

You’d first glimpsed him through drunken, hazy eyes across a very packed bar. You’d known who he was, of course — everybody did, and the Shadowsinger and the rest of the High Lord’s Inner Circle frequented Rita’s so much that it wasn’t unusual to spy the imposing presence of Illyrian wings. Azriel had never noticed you before that night, nor had you tried to get his attention.

A seasoned performer in the Rainbow of Velaris, there had never been any reason for you to rub shoulders with the spymaster. You’d been at Rita’s on the same nights as him multiple times, and your existence had gone utterly unknown to him.

Until that night. That night, when your loud laughter had seemed to reach him across the bar, and he’d glanced over in mere curiosity, his eyes meeting yours. That night, when you’d repeatedly shared looks around the club, but never inched any closer to one another, he with his friends and you with yours. That night, when you’d known he was watching you dance with a lick of hunger in his hazel eyes, and you’d maybe given him a bit of a show.

That night, when he’d finally approached you in the concrete backyard of the club, where you'd been stealing a few solitary moments of fresh air. He’d glimpsed you wandering out, and he’d followed moments later. He’d stared at you and you’d stared at him. Neither of you spoke a word before he’d been licking and kissing the salty sweat from your lips, your skin, and then he’d fucked you against the wall.

He’d had the decency to walk you home afterwards, given that your friends were long gone. And though he’d smiled at you on your doorstep and given you his name — “my name is Azriel, he’d said. “I know,” you’d said — you hadn’t been foolish enough to expect anything more than the heated one night stand.

Everyone knew Azriel the Shadowsinger had a fair few lovers. It was an unspoken thing — that he was highly sought after and yet never settled down. There was no mate he paraded around the city like his two closest friends did. He was solitary, private—

But by no means celibate. He got his pleasure from somewhere frequently enough.

Which was why it had surprised you when he’d turned up at your door three nights after you’d fucked against a cold concrete wall. He was in his glorious Illyrian leathers you in a silk two-piece loungewear set. He’d just come back from a mission, and you’d just opened a bottle of wine.

“I realised you never gave me your name.” He’d said. A pathetic, polite way of dressing up what he’d really meant: my work is stressful and I need to let off some steam.

You’d given him your name and then fucked him on your sofa. He’d left soon after, considerably more relaxed than when he’d arrived.

The third fuck was, again, at your house. You’d been sitting on your balcony in the late hours, watching the stars winking over Velaris. You’d heard the booming clap of wings and glimpsed a dark mass passing overhead. Azriel had spotted you and swooped down, landing on your balcony with barely a thud.

“Have you been waiting for me?” He’d said, his lips twitching — the first glimmer that there was an element of dry, quiet wit to his personality.

“No.” You’d retorted just as drily. “Never.”

He’d smiled a strange, vague smile at that, and then fucked you against the balcony rail, the stars bearing witness to every gasp and moan.

Which brought you to now — the fourth time.

Azriel pulled out of you and stood from the bed. It was unusual for you to see him in the late morning; the light shafting through your large, open windows only exacerbated his beauty. There was something strangely uncomfortable about it. Like it was sacrilege for him to debase his ethereal allure by standing there, in your cramped little townhouse, having just bedded you — a nobody, one of many faces in a crowd.

One of many lovers, too, you were sure. It would be foolish to allow yourself to be bothered by that.

The broad expanse of his tan, muscled back rippled as he leant down, retrieving his clothes he’d discarded on your floor. You watched with mild indifference, wondering — as you had the previous three times — if this would be the last time. If Azriel had had his fill of you, and you wouldn’t be seeing him again.

Any moment now, he would throw you his polite, winning smile and bid you goodbye—

He turned to you, fastening his breeches. His eyes flashed quick with hunger as they landed on your naked body, and then climbed back up to your eyes.

“What is it you do?” He asked.

The question sounded strange — as though he felt required to make polite conversation. As though he expected you to expect something from him.

“I’m a dancer.” You replied. “In the Rainbow.”

It seemed he considered that for a moment. And he paused, as though searching for an appropriate reply.

“Don’t feel obligated to stick around.” You told him, surely putting him out of his misery. “I know you’re a very busy male, Shadowsinger.”

“…I don’t want to be rude…”

“You’re not.” You fished his shirt from your side of the bed, chucking it his way. “I’m rather busy myself.”

And you were — you had a performance that evening. One that you would spend the afternoon rehearsing for. You needed him gone as much as he needed to be gone.

Still, he appeared to hesitate a moment, before he mumbled a quiet “alright” and shucked the rest of his clothes on.

Neither of you spoke any more beyond your pleasant goodbyes, and you were already running your bath when you heard your front door shut.

#ask #ask game #wip game #wips #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #acotar fandom #acotar x reader #azriel #azriel x reader

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moremousewrites · 12 days

Text

Obedience

Pairing: Raphael/F!Tav

Summary: Raphael punishes you for your impudence by showing you just how much autonomy you truly have

Tags: graphic depictions of violence, dubcon, injury, smut, piv sex, oral sex (male recieving), face fucking, degradation

A/N: aggressive soul pillar sex. Dead dove territory please read at your own discretion (mdni)

Raphael dragged your naked, writhing body across the marble floors of the House of Hope. Your scalp burned at his claws, gripping the roots of your hair. You held his wrist, trying to stand on your own feet, but you couldn't match his speed. He maintained his grip on you as your body bounced on the ascending and descending stairs that seemed to jut beneath you. Your heel caught on a misplaced stair and you heard a deafening crack as the cambion ripped your body forward, tearing tendons along with the fractured ankle. You screamed until your lungs burned, your body contorted in his grasp.

“Silence, you sniveling worm! I give you everything and time and time again you turn my generosity against me. You think me a fiend? No. You, my love, are a sanctimonious wretch” he lifted you from beneath your arm and your lame leg, the foot dangling uselessly.

“I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm-” you begged, awaiting the next blow. You felt him slam your back onto a stone surface. It was smooth, almost perfectly so.

“No you are not,” Raphael pressed his body against yours, allowing him the freedom to use his hand and balance you at once. “But you will be” he threatened. He took out his cock, aligning himself with your hole. Panic and shock ran through you. You never were prepared, but he made an effort to be especially brutal when you disobeyed him.

“You humiliated me. Do you understand your role, little mouse? You are under my thumb, you do not speak for yourself at the table of Mephistopheles” he thrust inside of you in one gliding motion. You bit your lip to keep from screaming.

Your ankle throbbed, swelling at the swaying angle it was put through. Raphael had you trapped, now. You touched the surface behind you, trying to make sense of your surroundings. This was his entryway, which meant that the marble on your back was no ordinary pillar. Your heart filled with dread as the stone suddenly felt as though it was stealing all the warmth from your body.

“Yes my love, you've finally caught on” he gripped your chin, digging his claws into your cheek. Droplets of blood trailed down your face, mimicking tears. “My pillar of souls. I granted you the privilege of your autonomy and you abuse it. Do you wish to become another soul in my collection?” He asked, pinning you to the pillar, cock shoved deep inside you.

“No, master. I'm sorry master” you felt a ghosting touch against your flesh. Like the souls were trying to pull you in. Raphael's hips snapped, fucking into you with no regard to your size or accommodations as he did when you were good. He lifted both of your knees so you were folded on the pillar for him. You held his shoulders to steady yourself but it was a pointless act of false security. He had complete control.

“You spoiled little brat. I give you more than you deserve and you manage to purloin more” he pulled out of you and let you drop to the floor, your swollen ankle bouncing off the marble. You couldn't restrain your pained yelp this time. “Enough of your incessant drivel! You will come to know who truly owns this tongue of yours” Raphael pushed his index and middle finger past your lips, deeper into your mouth and pressed your tongue. Cherries and musk pervaded your senses, spreading on your tongue. His perfume must have lingered on his fingertips. You wrapped your lips around his knuckles and sucked. Raphael seemed pleased with your submission and began pumping his fingers in and out of your mouth, his claws scratching your tongue. You willed yourself not to panic, he would only rip your tongue further.

“So you do have the capacity to obey” Raphael watched you eagerly suck his fingers, his fiery eyes scorching you. He slipped the digits from your mouth. You spat blood on his boot.

Your skull collided with the pillar, vision blurring and teeth chattering.

His hands cradled your head, forcing your jaw open. A smooth, impeccably strong restraint coiled itself around your neck, restraining you. In your daze, you realized it was his tail. Slowly, constricting your hair, causing you to sputter and flail in his hands.

“Silence, mouse. Not a squeak from your wretched throat” he commanded. Raphael held your skull in place while he rutted into your throat. The rough fucking and lack of oxygen sent you into a panic, attempting to push him away, to stand and run. He hardly noticed as he fucked into you, the blood and spit on your tongue coating his aching cock. It pressed deep in your throat, you gathered all your strength not to gag. His hands rocked your head on him, dizzying you, forcing himself deeper within you. You held his thighs, desperate for something stable. They shivered under your touch.

“Have you learned? Will you obey?” He asked, uninterested in your answer. You saw the edges of your vision become darker.“If you insist on opening your wicked mouth, let me fill it with something worth delivering” it wasn't a request. And Raphael delivered. Your lips met the base of his cock, nose nestled into his pubic hair. His spend burned as it pumped down your throat, sulfur breaching your sinuses, threatening your gag reflex. You tried to pull away but his hand on the back of your head kept you firmly in place. The cambion's tail unraveled, not that you could breathe with his cock shoved so far down your throat. You're held there until he's ready, until you're nearly unconscious, only until you nearly escape this waking nightmare does he pull you off of him and you stupidly gasp for air, falling to the ground.

“What have we learned” Raphael asked, drying your tears with a handkerchief.

You did not respond. “Speak, little mouse. You have been spoken to” he ran his thumb over your plump lips, watching them part for him.

“I will obey” you said, darting your tongue out to lick his thumb, lightly.

“Very good. What do you have to say for yourself?” he asked.

“I'm sorry. I should never have gone” you apologized.

Raphael scooped you into his arms, lifting you. “You were right, mouse. The wine was indeed poisoned. But that's something we share after dinner” he explained, carrying you through the halls. You held onto him. There was much you had to learn about the hells.

#raphael bg3 #bg3 fanfic #bg3 raphael #raphael x tav #raphael x reader

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duchess7878 · 5 months

Note

Can you please do a cowboy! johnny fic where he just finds u and somehow you end up getting a ride from him to a nearby motel then you get a different type of ride 🤭

Ooooo, spicy 🌶️ I will do my best! I hope you like it! I’m sorry it took so long :)

MDNI

It had been about three hours now that I’ve been sitting in this carriage, riding from one town to the next. I wasn’t about to go across the countryside on my own and I didn’t have many close friends and family, so I was left with the town carriage. There’s nothing wrong with his service, but I doubt he has a gun and I don’t either and we’re in a very bandit heavy area. There has been rumors of multiple robberies, shootings, and kidnappings along this stretch of road, but it’s the quickest, and ironically, the safest way to get where I need to go. The other roads terrain is too unsafe for carriage travel.

The dim glow of the lantern hanging on the vehicle didn’t do much to light the area around us, making the unease grow with every second. Suddenly, the carriage came to a sudden halt, throwing me back against the seat with a harsh thud. I couldn’t even begin to make out what the carriage driver was saying before a loud gunshot rang out, causing me to scream and cover my ears.

A thud came from the side of me, no doubt the body of the driver falling to the dirt. I threw my hands over my mouth to prevent any other noises from escaping, hoping the person would just raid the trunk on the back on the carriage and leave. My thoughts were interrupted when the sound of spurs jangling as the person jumped from their horse made me jump slightly, knowing that each clink was the sound of them getting closer.

The sounds stopped right outside of the door and everything went silent. I couldn’t even hear my heartbeat. Suddenly, the door ripped open and there the silhouette of someone stood, completely blocking the only way out.

“Well, well, look what we have here.” A playful voice rang out.

As my eyes adjusted to the darkness and was able to make out the face, my heart clenched in terror.

Johnny Slaughter.

The right hand of the Slaughter Gang, the most savage of the group, and I was out here all alone with him. I couldn’t bring myself to move let alone say anything, so I just sat and stared, dumbfounded and scared. I shrunk back into the seat and the wall opposite of him as much as I could, but that didn’t seem to make a difference.

“Now, where are you goin’?” He asked, reaching into the carriage and gripping my ankle, yanking me to the door where he threw me up over his shoulder.

“No wait! My valuables are in the trunk! I have nothing on me!” I screamed, trying to wiggle off of his shoulder. A chuckle came from him as his wiggled his arm, making me fall back firmly onto him. He grasped me tighter so I couldn’t wiggle again.

“I think I got what I wanted.” He spoke, his hand reaching up to spank me harshly, before giving it a couple of squeezes.

Before I could protest, I was harshly thrown on the ground onto my stomach next to his horse. He pulled the bandana from his neck, wrapping it around my mouth and tying it behind my head. I turned to see him pull his lasso from his belt before tying my hands and feet into a hogtie. Completely powerless, tears began to flow from my eyes, wetting the cloth around my mouth and making it more uncomfortable than it already was.

“Aw, what’s the matter darlin’? Afraid of the bad man?” He chuckles cruelly before picking me up again and putting me on the back of his horse. Without another word, he mounts and we’re riding off into the dark of the road. It doesn’t take long to realize we were continuing in the same direction I was already heading. At the very least, I may get to where I need to go in the end.

We came upon the small town of Newt, a perfect place for all criminals alike because the sheriff was driven out of town a while ago. More so, he was killed brutally and no one was brave enough to take the position again. It explains why Slaughter is able to do what he’s doing without question.

He pulls me from the back of his horse and throws me over his shoulder again, my stomach hurting badly with how many times it’s been hit. He walks into the saloon, the doors creaking at his entrance. A handful of saloon goers lift their eyes to see the new company, but quickly turn away when they see that he is clearly busy at the moment. He walks past the bartender without a word, throws some coins on the counter, and begins walking up the stairs to the catwalk.

“Room 8. Checkout at 12pm.” The bartender said, not looking up from the glass he was cleaning.

The tears never stopped falling and they fell harder now realizing help was nowhere nearby. Johnny must’ve reached room 8 because his boot was kicking open a door before I was tossed onto a fluffy and medium sized bed, again on my front. A small metallic ring sounded out and I turned my head to see where it came from.

A long skinning knife was held in Slaughters hand, the blade glistening from the oil lamp on the bedside table. Muffled protests tried to work through the cloth, but it was in vain as I felt the cold blade run down my leg and slice through the rope around my ankles. After the rope fell to the floor, he grabbed my bicep and pulled me to my feet, wrists still bound. Due to how long I was bound, I could barely stand or walk as he led me to the couch across the room from the bed. He sat me down as he unbuckled his belt and undid his jeans pushing them and his boxers to his knees before sitting down beside me.

His cock was standing tall, thick, and proud. The red head seemingly pulsing as it ached with desire. He gave it a few pulls before reaching over, pulling me onto his lap. He bunched up my dress and reached to the back with both hands, taking my bloomers in both before ripping them apart, creating a hole fore his access. Once he was satisfied with his work, he gripped his base and lined himself up with me. He slowly lowered me down, the tip breaching my walls and a small whimper sounded around the cloth making him groan and clench his jaw.

Once he was in enough so that he wouldn’t slip out if he moved his hand, he moved to grip my hips, settling into a comfier position on the couch. Once settled, he slammed my hips down against his, causing him to fill me up to the cervix. A loud groan went past his lips as he threw his head back against the couch, his black cowboys hat tipping and slightly covering his eyes. He looked up at me past the brim, the lust in his eyes as clear as day.

“Damn babygirl, I caught me a good one tonight. Might have to keep you.” He grunted, lifting me up and slamming me back down again. I could feel my face flush and small beads of sweat starting to form on my temple. The tears were continuously flowing, making my cheeks slightly raw. I whimpered and moaned against the gag as my mind couldn’t decide if it wanted this or not. With my arms still bound, I was completely at his mercy and he bounced me up and down on his cock.

“Ooooh fuuck…” He growled, taking a moment from the pounding to grind me back and forth, his thick and trimmed bush creating a delicious friction on me. His hands moved from my hips to my ass and he ground me harder against him. A loud smack sounded through the air as he smacked my ass with both hands.

“Come on babygirl, ride your cowboy.” He said, his hand moving behind his head to let me do the work. I rolled my hips as best as I could and I could feel him brushing everything inside of me. My legs were still jelly, so all I could do was grind and that wasn’t enough for him. He quickly took control again as he began to sloppily thrust up into me, the squelching noises growing more lewd and loud.

“Fuck, you’re going to make me cum darlin’.” He said, his thrusts reaching their end as he pulls out of me. I turn my head in time to see thick strings of white gushing out onto the floor in front of the couch. I could feel his stomach clenching as each one came out. The sight of him finishing was enough to send me over the edge. Slaughter quickly realized and ripped the front of my dress down, taking a nipple into his mouth and sucking to give me some kind of stimulation while I was cumming. The high left as quick as it came and I was breathing heavily behind the gag.

He reached beneath me to wipe any access cum of himself before lining his cock up with me again.

The morning light shown violently though the curtains, waking me from my slumber. I looked around for Johnny, feeling an unwelcome sense of longing and loneliness upon realizing he had left. As I collected my things and was about to leave, I noticed there was a piece of paper between the door and the frame. I took it from its spot and unfolded it, reading the message hastily scribbled on the parchment.

“I’ll be back for you tonight, I had to shake a tail. Don’t go anywhere darlin’, or I’ll hunt you down.”

Part 2 :)

#johnny slaughter #johnny tcm #johnny slaughter x reader #tcm #texas chainsaw game #texas chainsaw massacre #tcm game #18+ mdni #mdni #smut #sexy content

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dabisair · 4 days

Text

toska

Dabi x gn!reader

Warnings: soft Dabi, reader is a bit rude to Dabi in the beginning, discussions of love and how it's supposed to feel (both explanations are negative), indecisive reader, unambitious reader, talk of body hatred, and oh my god if you feel the way this reader feels I am so so so SO sorry and I hope that one day you and I can heal ; _ ; (I tried to keep Reader's body type unspecified)

toska - (roughly) a dul ache of the soul, a sick pining, a spiritual anguish; also, "Russian word roughly translated as sadness, melancholia, lugubriousness".

Unbeta'd I ride at dawn--- this started somewhere and then ended somewhere else entirely and I'm sorry.

A flame-bitten finger traces along imperfect skin - skin that shivers beneath the touch, goosebumps pebbling in the wake.

The sensation worsens when that burning hand plucks petals from a nearby flower, all blues and purples with a splash of white, and traps the supple material between a hot palm and a cool arm.

Blue eyes flicker with interest, a flash of white heat singing the petals and the near invisible hairs on your forearm. A stream of smoke rises up from beneath his palm, long fingers wrapping around your arm when you try to jerk the appendage away on reflex.

Dabi thinks your scowl is funny - he must, given that he chuckles when you narrow your eyes at him. You don’t waste your time trying to pull your arm out of his grasp. You’ve come to know that it is better for you to accept whatever new burn you’re going to have when he finally decides to let you go than fight with him and have him tighten his grasp.

“Just because you have dead pain receptors doesn't mean I do.”

The small smile on his face is whisked away by a neutral line, his grip on your arm loosening enough for you to yank it back to your person. All that meets your gaze when you inspect your skin is a red blotch, earning Dabi a sigh. You brace your hand against the stone beneath where you sit, staring listlessly toward the city below. He’d insisted that you come up to this roof with him nearly an hour ago.

He sets his hand on your thigh, ripped up flower petals fluttering around as he repeats the action, this time with the petals, and the fabric as a barrier between the brutal flash of his quirk and your flesh. You poke gently at the skin between his knuckles, tentatively touching the staples. Your fingers twitch away from the metal, scorching hot just from the small puffs of flame he let out from his palms.

“What does it feel like?”

“Like running through the snow and jumping in a hot tub.”

Dabi snorts, shaking his head while he rubs his hand slowly up and down your thigh, “right.”

“So hot that it feels cold, like leaving my hand in cold water and then putting it in a bowl of hot water. It stings and makes me think my skin is melting off my bones, at the same time as it feels like my skin is freezing and becoming brittle.”

He nods his head, his hand lifting from your thigh to touch your chest, “that’s not what I’m askin’. What does it feel like?”

“What does what feel like, fire boy?”

“Being in love.”

You peer at him closely, trying to gauge why he’s asking - or, furthermore, why he thinks that you’re in love. You’ve always wondered if you say ‘I love you’ to people because you mean it, or because they said it to you first.

But, at the same time, you can’t be sure that you don’t feel love. You don’t know what it really feels like - at least, not in the way that it's been shown in television or movies or described in books and poems.

“It feels empty.”

Dabi’s stare is weighted, resting heavily on your body.

“It feels like a dull ache, like there’s a hole in my chest that nothing will fill. It feels like losing someone important, wishing you could have them back but knowing that it’s not possible. There’s an anguish there, so deep that I can’t do anything about it, so yeah. It feels empty. It doesn’t feel real. It’s painful.”

Part of you is not surprised when Dabi pulls his hand away from you, but it dawns on you, as your heart sinks into your stomach, that he must have been asking because he thought you were in love with him.

“... what does it feel like to you?”

“Like I wanna’ hurt you. I don’t understand it, can’t comprehend it, and I want to hurt you. It’s an itch I can’t get rid of, a disgusting insect in the back of my head gnawing away at my thoughts and I despise it, and I want it to stop,” his hand returns to your thigh, and he scoots closer, one leg dangling over the edge you’re both sitting on, “can I hurt you?”

“No.”

His huff is so incredulous it causes a puff of laughter to escape you.

“That was so fuckin’ instantaneous.”

“I don’t enjoy pain.”

“What if I let you hurt me too?”

“But you can’t really feel pain anymore, D, and that means that I could potentially really hurt you and neither of us would be aware.”

“But it would be fair. I get to hurt you because I loathe how you make me feel, and you get to fill your emptiness with pain.”

“I don’t follow your logic, but I appreciate that you’re trying.”

“Unless you wanna’ fill your emptiness with somethin’ less painful?” he mutters, leaning toward you.

You go rigid, shoulders bunching up. His lips - uneven and unnatural - scrape along your neck, sending a violent shiver down your spine as your body jumps beneath the affection. He sighs through his nose, the rush of warm air eliciting a similar reaction.

“Do you like that?”

“I don’t know.”

“How can you not know?” he scoffs, moving closer despite his indignation. You have half a mind to slap his hand off your thigh.

“I don’t know how I’m supposed to react,” you turn your head to the side when Dabi decides to bury his face in your neck, tongue and teeth moving over your skin. It makes you uncomfortable. It makes you anxious. You can’t be sure the butterflies are actually a good thing as they flutter their wings throughout your stomach and chest.

It feels foreign and unnatural and you’re not sure why he insists on kissing your neck the way he is.

At the same time, you don’t do anything to stop him. Part of you hopes you can just breathe through it. Maybe…

Your anxiety grows when his strong fingers dig into your thigh, pulling at your flesh.

It takes a moment for you to work up the courage to discourage Dabi from continuing, his curious mouth moving up your neck toward your cheek. He leans back, expression unreadable save for the irritated twitch in his lip.

“You know I’m impatient,” his voice is low. Dejected. His frustration digs bruises into your thigh, and despite the pain, and the fact that you told him you don’t enjoy pain, you let him. It is better than reminding him that he’s a villain and if he’s going to be so impatient, then he should just take what he wants from you.

Dabi has always seemed to want you to be willing, rather than despondent.

“Nothing to say to that?”

You shrug, your leg jerking under his hand when he digs his fingers into it again. Words escape you until Dabi moves his hand off your leg and sighs heavily.

“This is never gonna’ go anywhere, is it?”

“No.”

“And I thought I was the villain.”

“In label only, D. You also deserve someone who knows what they want - both in life and a relationship. I can’t give you either of those things,” you shrug, the lights of the city blurring together, “unlike you, I have no ambitions. I have no purpose. I simply exist. I don’t know what I want, and haven’t known for years.”

He fishes his cigarettes out of the pocket of your sweatshirt and lights one up with a blue flicker, his movements harsh.

“So you used to know.”

“Yeah. I used to think I wanted a relationship. I used to be pretty enough to be in one.”

Dabi grumbles something under his breath, glaring at you. You tilt your head to the side, sighing through your nose, “you’re prettier than me, D.”

“Yeah? Tell me how that makes sense.”

“It doesn’t,” you mutter, surprised that he’s stayed as close to you as he has. He’s been surprisingly patient with you, “but I’ve stopped trying to make sense of it, y’know? It’s all fine and dandy until I remember I’m part of the equation. Everything about me is ugly, especially my body. I wouldn’t like it even if I was thinner - or bigger. It’s me, so it’s ugly.”

“But you think other people who share your attributes are beautiful, doll,” Dabi leans his forehead against your shoulder, “why can’t you think that about yourself?”

You suck in your cheeks, looking at him sheepishly when he raises his head.

“... you were gonna’ say that phrase, weren’t you?”

“Uh huh.”

“And you didn’t because…?”

“Because I think I’ve said it enough for one night, and you’re probably sick of hearing it. So. Um. Reasons.”

“Mm-hm. Reasons?”

“Yeah. The best. Logical. Make perfect sense reasons - definitely not illogical, or contradictory reasons!”

And to your surprise, Dabi chuckles, shaking his head as he inclines it to your shoulder again. Maybe it is nice for him to hear you try to be funny about something that is objectively not funny - or maybe he appreciates that you are already aware that your reasoning is illogical.

“Next time we should talk about something else.”

“But what if talking to me about how much you hate yourself makes y’feel better?” he counters softly, lifting his head from your shoulder to toss his cigarette away. You glance at his lips only to quickly look away when you realize he caught you.

“Isn’t that too much weight for you?” you ask just as softly. Thankfully, he knows what you mean: by comparison, your body is fine. Your body is normal.

His no longer is.

“But I understand - don’t argue with me.”

“Okay.”

“Saw you lookin’.”

You hum.

“So do it.”

You glance at him again, brows narrowing back, and your stare drifts to his lips, then back up to his eyes. He nods his head a little in encouragement.

All you can muster is to kiss him on the corner of his mouth. You let it linger, let yourself feel it, and then you pull away. Dabi brings your head to his collar, though, making you lean against him

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

You laugh airily, closing your eyes.

“It wasn’t.”

#dabi x reader #reader x dabi #dabi x you #dabi x y/n #mha #bnha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #i have a lot of pretty words saved on Pinterest #And this one slapped me in the face #anyway idk what is really going on here but it's going

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