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zealousllamawolf · 6 days

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Prompt from a Request (Alastor X FemReader) R+18

!!Minors DNI!!

Pairing- Alastor x Reader

Summary Reader is on their period where Alastor can't help but treat himself.

Word Count- 2K

~~~

Your first period in Hell was the worst, and they did not have birth control to help with the flow which you took religiously when you were alive, unfortunately you were cursed with heavy periods. Though at the time you did not know sinners still had periods. So, there you were sitting next to Angel at the bar nursing a drink when you laughed at something Husk said when the familiar feeling occurred between your legs. Immediately you were alarmed, NO, it can’t be!

Your face went blank void of all emotion, and you stood up sliding off the bar stool, letting the chair legs scrap on the floor. Without looking up at anyone your eyes fixed to the ground, you quickly waddled your way to your room with your hands behind you covering your backside, knowing the blood had already seeped through your leggings. You pull up a hand to reveal bloody fingers.

“No, no, no.” You whine getting closer to your room rounding the corner when you bump into something hard, stumbling backwards. You groan and look up at Alastor’s grinning face.

“My my, you seem to be in a hurry.’’ Alastor says smirking down at you, reaching out his arms he grabs your shoulders, steading you. You take a step back out of Alastor’s personal space since you knew he did not like anyone to touch him or be overly close, but surprisingly he steps closer, and did not release your shoulders.

Over the past couple of weeks staying at the hotel you made sure you did not do anything to upset Alastor, he was terrifying, and you always felt uneasy around him. His smile was unnerving as it was but when he stared, you just wanted to sink into the floor.

“I-… Yes, I need to handle something that is pressing.” You say talking with your hands to express more urgency. Suddenly Alastor snatches your hand examining your slick fingers. He leaned forward and pulled your hand to his face, taking a deep inhale, closing his eyes savoring the scent. You blush at the intimacy of the moment, rubbing your legs together uncomfortably. Alastor was smelling your blood from the most private part of your body; you thought cringing inwardly.

“Are you hurt I can only assume since the blood” his voice dangerously low when he said blood, you could barely hear him over the static that grew louder around both of you. He opened his eyes looking down at you with half lidded eyes like he was high off the scent of your blood. The intense way he was looking at you left you speechless, the desire behind his eyes sending a warm feeling pool in your groin. No, stop, he just wants your blood that’s kinda his thing, right?

“N-no, I am fine,” gulping from your throat going dry, “it’s more a personal matter.” You stumble over your words as he brings your hand closer, pressing them to his lips, before pulling them back slightly. Your heart rapidly starts to beat in your chest as you watch him lick his lip as soon as he licked the blood his eyes grew wide at the taste.

“Irresistible.” Alastor whispers bringing your hand to his lips before slowing sliding one of your fingers in his mouth. Your breath hitched at the sensation, sending tingles down your arm. You bite your lip to hold back a moan when his tongue swirled around your finger ever so lightly. Alastor lets out a groan, gripping your arm tightly slipping in another finger in. You take a step back in a daze, your back hits a wall, grateful for the support you lean your full weight against it. As revolting as this was your body betrayed you by being turned on by the mere thought of Alastor’s mouth on your skin.

In one swift movement Alastor pins you against the wall, slipping your fingers out of his mouth leaning in close enough to feel his breath on your lips, he rests a hand on your hip gently griping, while he slides one under your chin lifting it up.

“I need another taste, ma bichette*” he inhales sharply as you press your lips to his sliding your hands up his chest wrapping your hands around his neck, pulling him closer. He moans at your eagerness, deepening the kiss he slides his hand around your throat gently squeezing softly making you groan at the pressure. You break the kiss looking at Alastor through half lidded lust filled eyes, turning your head allowing more of your neck exposed.

“Then take it.’’ You whine. Alastor dips his head down lightly biting down, compelling you to inhale quickly, holding your breath waiting for the pain to start. Alastor shifts and slides a leg between yours, spreading them open till his thigh pressed to your mound, chuckling menacingly Alastor trails his nose up the length of your neck, nipping at your ear lobe.

“Oh, mon cheri, so willing to give yourself to me already.’’ He grinds his thigh against your heat. “Your neck isn’t the place I want to indulge in.” It takes you a moment to think through the fog that clouded your judgement, but you eventually understand what he meant, when the realization comes to you, your face instantly burns up.

“Al… I-I did not think you really cared for that type of thing.” You say groaning at the constant friction Alastor was making. You look down and notice a wet spot forming on his pants, you whisper. “You’re going to dirty your suit if you continue to do that.” You say, silently hoping he will continue, since it felt so good, you have not been touched for years prior to dying. Even though Alastor scared you at times you could not stop the way he was making you feel, trembling at his every touch.

“You’d be mistaken my dear, this is only an act for my entertainment.” Alastor laughs lightly but his eyes told you another story. They had turned to radio dials, which is when you noticed all the other strange things happening around you. The lights were flickering, and the air was thick with static pulsing around you, but most importantly Alastor’s frame was slightly larger than normal, and his antlers had grown towering over you. “You are just the toy I decided to play with.”

You stomach tighten when he finished speaking, the thought of him just using you for something only he would want was thrilling as much as the feeling of his mouth on your cunt. Being eaten out by him while on your period still grossed you out, but the question of pleasure was on the line so you caved.

“P-please be g-gentle with me.” You whimper, pushing down Alastor’s thigh away from your throbbing core, grabbing his hand you pull him the rest of the way to your room.

Before the door is even closed you feel Alastor’s hand on your lower back leading you to your bed, you try to make your way to the bathroom to clean up a bit but, you are stopped when Alastor’s hand snakes around your waist pulling you closer to his side.

“Alastor, I need to get a towel.’ You say shyly. “I bleed rather a lot and I don’t want to—.’’ Alastor laugh fills the room cutting you off.

“Oh dear, do relax. I am not going to let a single drop on your covers.” Your face burns wondering what you have gotten yourself into.

In no time you are lying on your back, while Alastor stands in front of you between your legs. He sheds his coat, neatly laying it across your bed, then proceeds to unbutton his cuff rolling his sleeves up just below his elbow, watching as his muscles flex under his skin. Your eyes trailed his every move never seeing Alastor this excited, head tilted, smiling coyly down at you. The dim light casts a shadow across his upper face making his eyes glow redder somehow, sending a thrill down your spine. Alastor kneels sliding his hands up your thighs stopping at the top of your stretchy leggings, curling his fingers under your waistband dragging his nails against the skin at your hips hard enough to leave thin trails of blood in their wake, making you shudder with pain and excitement.

“Lift your hips up.” Alastor commands, you raise your hips up slightly as he shimmies your pants and panties down past the curve of your ass. You lift your legs once the fabric bunches at your knees allowing him to slide the rest down, taking them off. Once bare from the waist down fully exposed to Alastor, his hands slide up your calf, lightly gripping your knees he slowly spreads your legs open reveling your drenched cunt on display. You bite your lip trying to focus on something other than Alastor and settled on a stain on the ceiling. Alastor did not miss your shyness and refusal to look at him. He shakes his head he could not have that now, could he?

“Look at me, doe.” he says sternly, planting soft trail of kisses down your inner thigh, slowly making his way down your leg to your center. His other hand was gripping your other thigh pushing your leg down into the bed, locking you into place. You felt his hot breath on your core before he licked the skin between your leg and your outer lips. The action makes you both groan, forcing your hips to jerk up at the sudden contact. “You’re so intoxicating.” He whispers before he starts to slide his tongue everywhere but the places you need to be touched. Your cunt clenches at the close calls aching for his tongue.

“Al-Alastor, stop t-teasing me.” you whimper barely able to contain your need for more. You runt your hips up trying to force his tongue to slip up and do what you wanted. You look down at his smirking up at you with a sly smile almost as if he was enjoying watching you squirm under his hold. He skims lightly up the length of your fold watching your reaction. You moan and arch your back clenching the covers in tight fists.

Alastor runs his smooth tongue over your clit making your hips jump, sending shivers of pleasure throughout your whole body. You feel him chuckle against your cunt before he starts to add pressure to your sensitive nub drawing light circles tantalizingly slow. You run your hand under your shirt lifting it up as you go, slipping your bra over your breasts, rolling your one of your nipples between your fingers.

“Such a sweet taste you have dear.” Alastor growls sliding his tongue down your slit before plunging into your core making you moan feeling heat pool at the base of your stomach. As he keeps feasting on the blood pouring out of you his tongue curled up and swiped across your sweet spot sending a puling sensation though out your body. How is his tongue so long?

“Al… please do that again.” As if on cue he curls his tongue up again and adds more pressure. After what seemed like eternity his intense suckling increased, making the coil in your core snap releasing a flow of cum and blood into Alastor’s mouth, making him grip your thigh, feverishly lapping up all your juices.

He pulls back looking at you through dazed eyes before his eyes were drawn to a single drop of blood slowly dripping out of your core, he swoops down and licks up your slick.

“Ah.” Alastor chuckles darkly. “Still so, so much more to give.” You moan as he continues to feast on your over sensitive cunt barely recovering from your orgasm.

~~~

*ma bichette~ my little doe

Taglist- @papas-ghoulette @ceafighter @ivebeenthearchersstuff @rapturenyx

A/N I had a lot of fun writing this, but life got in the way :( I hope the ending didn't feel too rushed. I hope you like it.

Something personal! This is the playlist I listen to while writing. Music definitely affects how I write in a way! So enjoy!!! (Music taste isn’t the best so beware)

Playlist

#alastor x reader #hazbin hotel radio demon #hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor smut #alastor #period #r+18

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bat-writer · 10 months

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MAAM

we need a part 2 to the pregnant reader please and thank you 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨

Love your work btw!!!

A/N: i didnt think the lash would do so sweep but HERE WE GO! I also turned this into a mixture of head cannons and a regular fic

Warnings: descriptions of birth and delivery

You were actually overdue by a couple of days. Your baby was supposed to come during last week, but they decide to take their sweet time.

However, this meant it was just more strain on your body. Unfortunately I meant your back eight more your feet started to swell and you were honestly very ready to be over with the pregnancy.

The doctor had told you to move around as much as he can’t to try and get labor to start the barista shoes and wanted you to rest and not push yourself more than you had to

Finally on a rainy night you started to have contractions! It was felt more like a cramp and lasted for about a minute or so, so it was still a bit early

Bruce was up right away and ready to go but you stopped him

“Labor can take hours hun, especially for a first baby. Let’s wait it out a little bit and we can get going alright?”

You were WAY TOO CALM in this situation. Bruce was baffled. But, he listened to you and instead had asked Alfred to have the bags and car on standby for when you were ready

Bruce was very supportive and attentive to your every need. He’d squeeze your hips, massage your back and anything else thay would sooth the contractions

“Just let me know and we’ll be at the hospital in no time” he would whisper to you as he rocked you side to side

Once it was time for you to get to the hospital, he made a phone call that you were on your way. Of course, he was never wanted to be seen as someone who abused his power or his name, but in your case, he only wanted you to have the highest of quality in things

So he made sure to book the hospital suite with only the best labor and delivery nurses of your choice.

Yes, he actually printed out the resumes of the nurses in the hospital and let you choose😭😭

This is Bruce Wayne. Batman. This man was the embodiment of fear some wood, even say that he did not know what fear was very different. In fact, he’s never felt more fear than he does now looking at you. He knew that this is a process. The millions of women go through but he still couldn’t help but feel like a child not know what to do.

You were squeezing his hand and your eyes were squeezed shut while you were trying to ride out this contraction. Sure he’s seeing you during your period, and how it was painful, but this was a whole other situation where the pain continue to escalate, and all he can do right now to see if you was to give you support

Once you arrived at the hospital Bruce help you out of the car by one of the nurses rolled out a wheelchair for you to sit in. He followed the nurse closely as he try to keep a close eye on you if his predictions were correct, you should be about 4 to 5 cm dilated

“ your doctor should come in a few minutes to check on your dilation. Please feel free to get comfortable and hit the call button if you need anything.” the young nurse informed you as she rolled get you into your room, and handing Bruce your hospital gown. As he helps you to get dress he also takes time to admire. Of course, it was always tractor for him, but he was also admiring all the hard work you have done in the past nine months.

“ do I really look that bad that you’re staring at me that much?” You asked him

“ no, not at all. In fact, far from it” he said, with a smile when you kiss your forehead. “I’m just admiring my work is all” he quips

“Ha ha mister slick- oh oh ahhh” you he’s in pain as you lean on your husband for support. It was basically like leaning on a brick wall.

“That’s in just breathe. You doing great.” he tries to comfort you to which you respond.

“ easy for you to say…..you don’t have a babies head prodding…..at your vagina” you breathe out between

“ fair enough, darling. You’re right, but I know that you really are strong and you’ll get through this. The contraction lasted for about two more minutes. After that you felt completely zapped from energy. Bruce helps you get into bed in a few minutes later your doctor walks in.

“ hello Mrs. Wayne how are we doing today? Are we ready to have a baby“ she asks trying to lift the mood give her a very pinned thumbs up, and she completely understood. “ All right I’m gonna give you a quick check just to see how far we are in dilation.” She says before checking and measuring “ looks like you’re about 6 cm just 4 more to go! Let me or the nurses know if you need anything else. She dismisses herself from the room.

“Only 6?” You groan “ and here I was thinking that I was around 8” you chuckle

“ well, you said it yourself, these things take time, especially if it’s a first“ he then comes and sits next to you on the bed and brings you into his arms. You can always sense whenever you needed “tell me what is on your mind“

“… because this entire time I was kind of in a trance about the pregnancy. I didn’t really take time to reflect on what’s really happening“ he knew you way too well for you to try and fake it and say you were fine. So you had just came out with it “when I felt the first contraction that’s when it honestly started hitting me that it was time….. and that it’s really happening” you admit

“Yeah it is…” he said still just listening

“I Just….feel overwhelmed” you sniff as your eyes well with tears “i don’t know what I’m doing or what’ll be good or bad for the baby”

“ well let’s look at it this way you do amazing boys. You force moves. Are you awesome like a mother would. That doesn’t excuse your feelings and fears about becoming because it’s something scary.” he comforts you “ but you’ll have me and the boys every step of the way”

For the rest of the night you were going through the motions of each contraction. Your doctor came in every hour or so to check on you. the boys even stopped by while they were in patrol for the night! They said once the baby was born they’d come back to visit again. You really appreciate them for coming by and seeing you, it made it just a bit more bearable. You had made it up until 3:26 am when it was time to finally push.

Bruce held your hand as you pushed with any energy you had left. You had always heard about women who explain the birth story and how it was the worst pain they had ever felt. It’s not that you didn’t believe them but now you can completely confirm what they were saying. This had to be the most intense pain that ever felt in your life. You didn’t know if you wanted to cling onto Bruce and have him comfort you or curse out for him doing this to you.

Either way, he would have taken it because he knows you are in a position he could never really experienced. But he tried his best to support and comfort you through the process.

“ That was a good one you’re doing great” he’d encourage you as he wiped your sweaty forehead. He may have looked very calm and collected, and so he was absolutely freaking out. You were in immense pain, and he can virtually do nothing about it. Here you were in front of him, sweaty screaming, and crying. All he was doing was feeding you ice, chips, and water, and letting you squeezes hands. Take me as you want.

“ you’re almost there. I know you feel tired, but you’re almost there. It’s almost over.” in fact, was speaking half truths because you truly do not know how much longer until your baby was in the world with you.

“ I know this is difficult, but I know you’re stronger than this. On the next count push with everything you have.” of course yes remember you were married to Batman meaning he was gonna push you until you were successful. Course in a loving way because he just wants. And in this case it’s for your health, and the babies health.

“Aaaahh!” You push again and fall back on your pillow panting

“Breath hon, breath. You’re doing good” he encouraged you.

It took you about an hour and a half from that first push to get her out. You don’t think you would experience anything like labor and delivery again. While it was something scary, painful, excruciating…… It also turned out to be something wonderful.

You were in Gotham’s best hospital with your newborn baby girl laying on your chest. She was only taken off to be cleaned and weighed. She passed all of the health tests with flying colors. And from what the nurses say, she is a perfect baby. Bruce, of course following in observing their every move. he loves you so deeply and his love for you only grew more and now it is shared with the person that was made with that love. He really could not ask for more.

Bruce was absolutely gobsmacked. He didn’t know what to say or how to react he just felt this immense, warm happiness and relief in his chest.

“Look honey…we have a girl” you smiled tiredly “she’s so beautiful”

“She really is…you are incredible. I’m so proud of you.” He complimented you laying a soft kiss to your lips.

“Here, why don’t you hold her?” You said lifting up the tiny human for him to take a hold of. His large hands supported her tiny body. The same hands that were used to fight crime no carry the life that he had made with you out of love.

Funny enough, she had the pout you claimed he did and that Damien got from him. You know that he looked at it he has to agree she does have his pout. But it looked better on her than it did him. She was perfect. Especially her eyes. She has your beautiful Y/E/C eyes, his favorite thing to look at

“did you make up your mind on a name?” He asked as he sat in the chair next to your bed.

“Well i was thinking of one but I could decide if you would like it or not” you answer

“Anything you pick will be perfect”

“Well. I thought Ila (eye-la) would be nice”

“I agree it’s a very pretty name,” he agrees

“But.” You add “I want her to have a middle name”

“Ans that would be?”

“..Martha” you smile “Ila Marth Wayne”

“Y/N…really? He asked with wide eyes. You wanted your daughter to carry his mothers name?

“Of course hon. It’s the least I can do”

Bruce looked down into his hands and saw how the entire world and multiverse slept peacefully in his hands. His beautiful Ila.

She was another reason he caught and became better for create a better Gotham

~🐈‍⬛

#bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader #Bruce Wayne x pregnant reader #batman #batman fanfiction #dc comics #batman x fem!reader

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josibunn · 2 months

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hoppin on the dad eurory train..what do you think was the position/time that got you pregnant? you always make him so good n sweet n I love the tatted up hc!

oh ur so slick…this is so good bye

also thank u sm!! I think imma keep that hc :P

──★ ˙ ̟🎀 !!

fuck personally I think it had to be excited/adrenaline rush sex, I feel like baby making with HIM isn’t a soft time, it’s giggly and smiley and happy and hard and rough and nasty. and it’s definitely not intentional lmao

im thinkin somethin to do with his career. like yknow the nsfw hc I made where he always fucks you after a gig? his adrenaline is through the roof and he just can’t keep his hands off you

and I have a very specific outfit in mind for both coquette girly ready and metal girly reader ok. something that’s gonna get him more riled up and wanna take you down.

i’m thinkin for coquette girly pink reader ur wearing a baby-hot pinkish mini skirt either tiny straps with a sort of frilly skirt with lace lining the hem, something along the lines of this? just frillier, and you’re pairing it with some heels and a cute fluffy cropped jacket, some up just how he likes it because you stand out in his crowd.

now for more alongside euros style metal fem reader, i’m thinkin a tiny leather miniskirt, like a fuckin belt ass skirt paired with maybe a cropped plain red tee? some black under the knee heels and he lets you wear his leather jacket over it and it’s huge on you but it still looks so cute ^_^

i’m thinkin this is set in a time where euro does continue preforming with his band and goes on tours and stuff to a point where you have hotels to stay in. and after a really good gig he’s running off the stage, sweat drenched and screaming with his crew, all hugging and bumping each other and wrestling until he’s like “wait wtf where’s [y/n]” and he screams your name before you find him out of the crowd.

he’s picking you up and spinning you before you can say anything, making you laugh. he’s all happy and out of breath, yapping about “did you see how good i was I was so fucking good baby were you watching when I did the thing with my guitar baby was it cool I looked so cool and we played so hard” and you’re just giggling bc !!! he’s so cute n so excited !!!

he’s all over you as soon as you get in the van with the rest of the band, hand trying to get under your dress/skirt while he drinks and you have to slap him away bc hey!! we’re around all your friends you can’t have it!! but he’s all tipsy and still in the rush so he doesn’t care and tries getting in u while kissin u

and the second you’re in your hotel room hes trying to send you through the mattress, ur not even out of your heels before he’s lifting your dress/skirt up and pushing you on the bed, ass in the air as he eats it from the back.

hes talkin all in your pussy, “s’fuckin good, fuckin love it” “taste so good baby” “can’t get enough, would kill for this” and you’re bunching your toes in your heels as you grip the covers, pleasure overtaking you bc you can’t even take off your jacket and he’s already got you cummin on him :( mouth moanin into the covers as you heave and he just won’t let up, too eager to get you ready for him :((

he finally pulls off you and won’t let you get situated, flipping you over and smashing his lips onto yours, tugging your jacket and shoes off. “taste how good you are? fuckin love that pussy baby,” he mutters in the kiss, yanking his pants down just enough to pull his hard cock out, tip red and hungry for you.

he doesn’t let you get a word in before he’s pushing into you, moaning with you loudly, cheeks pink and hot against you.

now for POSITION,, I think it was missionary->doggy->pushing your head down, shoving you into a pillow and beatin yo shit in. especially with a night after a gig, he’s too eager, too hyped up, just wants to throw you around. somethins bound to go down!

and maybe in a week when you’re finally home you notice your periods late, remember how good he’s been fucking you snd you’re like shit.

──★ ˙ ̟🎀 !!

join my taglist! @angelsanarchy @sugarinte @monkeyfart @444rockstargf @bambi-horror @auggiethecreator @wonkinoo @brithedemonspawn @yungbloodsuxca @weezinrnween @bluerthanvelvet444 @nom-nommmm1 @xelam444 @iiheartsai @smuttyslutty666 @urmomsgirlfriend1 @mrsdove @mommymilkers0526

#eurory prompt #rory culkin #rory culkin smut #euronymous smut #euronymous #lords of chaos #lords of chaos smut

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peterparkersnose · 2 years

Text

“You think there fucking?”

Bob x reader

Bob Floyd x reader

Bob Floyd x pilot!reader

word count: 1.3k

warnings: sneaking around, allusions to sex, allusions to death, small violence, angst for reader

(reader presents as female and her callsign is Honey)

a/n hi I saw top gun early in the summer and have been thinking about this for months. also, I don’t know anything about the navy or jets so take what I write about flying lightly. have a great new school year loves! also yes I know bob doesn’t technically fly the jet shut up pls its for the story :)

summary Y/N and Bob are secretly seeing eachother and Bob get’s hurt during practice.

masterlist

join the tag list

read time: 4 mins 55 seconds

The day was just like any other. You woke up, slicked back your hair and pulled on your boots. You reported to training at 9 like you were supposed to. Phoenix had brought you an orange juice this morning and sat with you as Maverick named off the people who would be flight testing that day.

“Hangman, Payback, Fanboy, Rooster, Bob, and Coyote. The rest of you can stay.”

You followed the rest of the crew to the monitoring room. As you were passing the group that was preparing to fly out, you caught Bob’s eye for a split second. He smiled at you and caused an eruption of butterflies in your stomach.

All you could hear in your head was him calling you “Darling” last night and holding you until the sun came up. You always hated leaving him. Sleepless nights after he would ‘drive you home’ after a night drinking at the Hard Deck was always worth it. But just for now, you would classify it as ‘fuck buddies’. Even though you craved more. And so did Bob. But for now you and Bob decided to keep it as it was. There was a big mission coming up and you two didn’t want to jeopardize it.

“Drool much?” Phoenix snorted, drawing you out of your trance. “Shut it.” you hissed at her, elbowing her side.

Phoenix had walked in on you and Bob about a week and a half ago. She hasn’t been able to let it go since.

“You and Bob?” she would whisper to you periodically thorough out the next few days. She was truly stunned, not expecting this from anywhere.

The ground team for the day made it into the control pit as the other pilots kept preparing for flight. You excused yourself to the bathroom.

You followed the route to the women’s restroom as the final people made it into the control pit. Then you whipped around, making your way to the men’s room.

Bob was for sure in there. He had an irrational fear of peeing in his suit and would always go to the bathroom last thing before a flight to make sure there wasn’t any complications. But, it had also turned into a time where the bathroom was completely empty and you two could see eachother. At work.

You flung open the door and was shocked to see no Bob. Just then, you saw a bathroom stall open just slightly and the frame of his glasses peek through.

“Oh thank god, I thought you weren’t coming,” he said, quickly pulling you in the stall and embracing you. His 6’ figure looked taller in the flight boots. “There were some people hanging around I didn’t want to look suspicious,” you explained, holding his hand in yours.

“Did I tell you how beautiful you looked today?” he asked, fixing a bit of stray hair back into place. A wide smile grew on your face as did the redness in your cheeks. You always loved when Bob complimented you. He struggled with it at first, not knowing what to say. He seemed to finally get the hang of it and know just how to make you swoon.

“Be careful,” you whispered, kissing him on the cheek. His hand tightened in yours as you flattened one of the straps around his shoulders. “See you tonight,” he whispered in your ear, giving you one last hug before he left.

Even if it was 30 seconds of him, it was more than enough to get you through your day of treating him like any other guy on your team.

Entering the control pit once again, you joined Phoenix. “Bathroom quickie?” she asked. “No. I had to pee.” you lied. “Mhm,” she smirked, watching the planes begin to fire up.

Everything seemed to be going to plan. The training session was normal and the same as every other day. Did you have a tab of Bob’s stats pulled up secretly on your tablet? Maybe. Just for piece of mind.

And a good thing you did. Your tablet began flashing and giving out a loud erratic noise suddenly. There was a fluke in Bob’s plane. You ran over to the big screen and pulled it up, demanding for him to be called in.

“I’m trying!” The commander yelled at you. Everyone was concerned about Bob, but your urgency definitely raised a few suspicions. “His jet is in the mountains- the signal isn’t going through.” the commander explained. You swiped around on your tablet until you could find the closest pilot to him. Hangman was about 9,000 feet behind him.

“Radio to Hangman! Now 8,000 feet behind!” you yelled at the commander.

“Hangman, come in!” he yelled through the microphone. “Bob needs assistance. Go find him. He is now 7,000 feet ahead.” “The target is too close, commander. No can do.” Hangman replied.

Your blood boiled. The main systems started issuing a warning for Bob’s plane now and it was beginning to decline. “God dammit Hangman!” you yelled, issuing the call to Maverick to bring everyone home.

Everyone watched as Bob’s plane flew straight into the mountain.

Praying that Bob recognized the issue fast enough to eject, you marched yourself down to the deck where Hangman was conveniently landing.

“You fucker!” you yelled, pushing Hangman back with both of your hands as he steadied himself after getting out of his jet.

“Hey, woah! The fuck was that for, Honey?” he yelled, steadying himself on the side of his jet ready to defend himself. “What did the commander tell you at 0-90? Huh?” you yelled at him.

Phoenix and Fanboy came running on the scene, seeing the tensions rising. “Excuse me?” Hangman yelled back, spit flying out of his mouth.

“That’s enough!” Phoenix yelled, placing herself between the two of you. “Y-you had to save Bob! How could you just leave him?” you yelled through Phoenix holding you back. Pushing past her, you came at Hangman again ready to throw a punch.

Rooster then came up behind you and snatched you up. You kicked and resisted against him, but he was too strong. As the ‘older brother’ type in the group, you knew he was ready to deal with whatever shit you were about to put up.

“Quit it. Your little boyfriends fine.” Rooster whispered in your ear in an attempt to calm your erratic mood.

“You wanna fucking go Honey? Is that what you want? To get your shit rocked?” Hangman taunted you.

“Rooster, let me go.” you yelled at him. He promptly dragged you away from Hangman’s jet and sat you down by the side of his.

“If you had any patience and stayed in the pit longer you would have learned that Coyote got him. He ejected at 0-140 and landed in a field. He’s fine. Minor injuries.” Rooster scoffed. He hated your temper sometimes.

“Maybe try being a little less obvious that you have a thing for Bob. Because at this point I’m sure he’s figured your little crush out by now.” Rooster warned you. “Maverick won’t be happy either.”

Oh, little did he know.

And perfect timing, Coyote came walking around the corner with Bob around his arm. He was limping and looked a little rough, but otherwise fine.

You left Rooster’s side and ran to Bob, not stopping to embrace him. Bob hobbled back a bit at impact.

“Are you okay?” you asked, holding the boy tight. “I-I’m alright Honey.” he forced out. “I hope you know just how much I care about you.” you whispered in his ear. You definitely weren’t at the four letter word stage, and that was the best you could put words together for to represent your emotions for him. “I know darling. I’m sorry.” he muttered back. His voice sounded hoarse and tired.

You tried your best to fix his hair and straighten his glasses as you took him from Coyote and began to help him walk to the medical ward.

Maverick joined Rooster watching you two across the deck.

“You think there fucking?” “Oh, there definitely fucking.”

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@dani5216 @uwiuwi @alohastyles-x @samanthacookieone @maddieinnit0 @alexxavicry

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midnightfantasiez · 7 months

Text

Invitation | Jacob Bae

SUMMARY: never would you have thought to have instantly clicked with the one and only idol Jacob Bae, within a short period. when he finally invites you to take a further step in your relationship with one another, how could you possibly refuse?

PAIRING: idol Jacob x afab! reader

GENRE: smut (18+ MDNI!!)

WARNINGS: french kissing, pet names, oral (afab! reader receiving), fingering (afab! reader receiving), p in v sex, protected sex (we cheered), man's doing it from behind

WORD COUNT: 2,354

A/N: @zzoguri this was written for you 😚 i hope you like it 🥺

It has been a couple of weeks since your mutual friends introduced you both to one another.

You were in your final years in college and had little to no connections to many boys in your life. You were the type to always hide in the library or the quiet reading rooms scattered throughout campus, wanting to avoid indulging in all of the parties or chaos around you. With that, you were definitely not a regular on the college’s party scene. Attending frat parties or clubs would be the last thing you want to do on a Friday night, choosing to snuggle up in bed with your favourite snacks and drinks while watching your favourite TV shows.

Naturally, your friends were starting to worry about your love life—convinced that you wouldn’t be able to find someone even until graduation came in a year. Hence, they decided to be good samaritans and tried their best to find one that would suit your type to the best of their abilities.

Your close group of friends knew how you’ve always had a soft spot for music, and it’s something that you have always been passionate about besides the current course you were taking in college. It was probably pure luck when one of your buddies was mutual friends with an actual idol from one of the most famous boy bands of the year.

Given your personality, she was convinced that you and Jacob Bae were a perfect match with one another. Thanks to her luck, she secured a few tickets for you to attend their ongoing concert—The Boyz 2nd World Tour: Zeneration.

Wishing that she would finally shut up about meddling with your love life, you decided to give it a go and went to the first day of the concert. Unbeknownst to you, you start taking interest in the man himself.

It was the way he presented himself on stage—the way his body moved according to the rhythm and vibe of each song perfectly, his harmonious voice that suited each of the songs from the setlist, not to mention the outfits he was given to wear (especially during the opening where he wore a see-through shirt with his hair all slicked back good lord).

When you finally got to meet him in person backstage after the concert, he was a man you would fall for and would immediately be listed down in your “men whom I surprisingly approve of and will trust with the rest of my life” book.

He was so calm and friendly that he could break off the ice between you two even though you’ve just met, and it was how you were engaged in every conversation you’ve had with him. You definitely were a little upset when they had to call it a night as they had to prepare for the upcoming concerts for the rest of the week. But he managed to grab a few more tickets for you and your friends so that you could come again during the tour's encore and final day.

Fast forward to the present day, you were at the backstage waiting for the rest of the members to arrive. It took about 10 minutes before all 11 members came down to thank all the staff and visit all the guests that had arrived to support them on their final day. It took a while for Jacob to finally make his way towards you, but when he did, he absolutely couldn’t leave your side in the slightest bit.

Something in the air made both of you seemingly attracted to one another, even though you had just met for the second time. It was as if you both were drawn to each other, wanting to know more and deepen the relationship you both have created.

He gently grabs hold of one of your hands into his, caressing it before opening his mouth to suggest the plans for the rest of the day.

“Say, there is this really nice restaurant not too far from here that I occasionally dine in whenever I feel for a candlelight dinner. Care to join me for the night?” He asked in such a sweet way, how could you say no?

Without much hesitation, you quickly nodded your head before he made some arrangements to inform his managers and your friends that you both would make a quick dinner and that he would bring you back home safely by the end of the night.

Seeing this as a sign, your friends immediately encouraged you to take up the offer, convinced that this would be the start of a spark to happen between you two.

For the first time in a while, you actually agreed with your friends on this for once.

It was a rather fancy restaurant that had the Parisian vibes to it. You could tell how it would be a place where idols would occasionally indulge after a long day of work, especially when they have just finished a concert tour.

Jacob, being the kind gentlemen that he was, ensured that you’ve always felt comfortable and would bring up a variety of topics to talk about—which you deeply appreciated because gradually, he was slowly pulling out from your bubble, getting you to open up to him more.

You were glad that you weren’t the only one who showed interest in the other party. Otherwise, it would’ve been an awkward one-sided relationship. There was just something about you that drew in him, and he couldn’t exactly pinpoint what it was either. All he knew was that he was desperate to try to get to know you better, and eventually, he definitely thought about taking a step further in the relationship you both have now.

The dinner went on smoothly and he offered to pay for the meal at the end, much to your disagreement.

A gentleman should always pay on the first date, no?

Those words lingered in your mind, and you couldn’t help but chuckle.

As you both exited the restaurant, he somehow volunteered to be your chauffeur, clearly wanting to keep you as long as he could to himself.

“If you are free for the night, would you like to come over to my place?”

“Woah, Jacob. Aren’t you taking this a little too far? What makes you think I’d return to your place that quickly?” You joked.

“What if I said I have got the best liquor saved just for you, some good music to vibe to, a comfy sofa and a cosy atmosphere to indulge you for the night? Would you agree to my proposal?”

Now that was tempting. Given both of your similar interests in music (and good liquor), it was very hard to reject the man’s offer. You knew that it should be a red flag for someone to invite you back to their comfort place that quickly, especially when you two are just friends at the moment, nothing else.

But somehow, you just couldn’t turn down his offer. In fact, you wanted to know more about him too.

In return, you smiled back at him while taking a step closer so that you were mere centimetres apart from each other’s faces.

“That is a yes in my books.”

One thing led to another, and you both began feeling tipsy. And before you knew it, you were both kissing one another on the sofa.

You were both finishing up the last drop of the liquor bottle that Jacob owned among his stash of wines and when you both looked into each other’s eyes, you knew that you were far too gone to even think rationally at this point.

Jacob bent down his face to yours in slow motion, and within seconds you felt his hot mouth infused with the sweet wine he had just consumed earlier all over your mouth. As you wrapped your arms around his neck, he then slipped his hands down to the curve of your sides to rest on your hips as he drew you in. You didn’t expect how much of a prodigy he was with his tongue, casually slipping and wrapping itself onto yours.

God, this whole session was causing you to lose your breath, your pants getting more visible as the minutes passed. Jacob noticed how much you enjoyed it and proposed a better idea.

“Won’t you—crawl up in my bed—with me.” He asked in between the kisses.

“What makes you—think that I would agree with that?” You asked while trying to catch your breath.

“For one, you would be cosy up in the sheets and I’ll make you feel good and care for you. Will you accept the invitation?”

If you did, you already knew where this was going. Having sex when technically this was only your second time meeting one another? It would be absolute insanity.

But you were already deep in this whole situation and ready to let loose for the night.

“Show me what you’ve got then.” You challenged the male.

Immediately, he carried you into his room and laid you down gently on his comfy sheets. He slowly undressed you, only leaving your underwear on as you laid your stomach down on the sheets.

“Relax, baby. Let me take care of you, hmm?”

Accepting his proposal, you laid your head on your arms and crossed them on the sheets.

Closing your eyes, you start to hear how he has walked behind you, undressing himself before slowly climbing onto the bed with you.

Instantly, he bent down and began to fidget with your core, slowly rubbing it, earning a soft moan that escaped your mouth.

“Does it feel good, baby?”

You nodded your head and he knew he could proceed onwards with his care. He slowly increased his speed before finally coming into contact with his mouth upon your core, kissing and sucking them.

“Mmmh… yes… keep going, Jacob.” Your moans sounded so sweet to his ears, and that was when he knew his care was effective after all. It was then he decided to insert two of his fingers into your core while he continued to suck on it simultaneously.

God, you were on cloud nine. It just felt so sickly good.

“M-more… Jacob… please… don’t stop.” Purely on instinct, you decided to spread open your legs more to give him access to your entrance. And how you’d actually wish him to finger you deeper within.

It went on for a few more minutes before you both knew you were about to reach your high. Jacob gives you the consent to cumming around his fingertips, and that was exactly what you did when you released your sweet love juice around his fingers. He takes them out from your core before placing them into his mouth, savouring them all without leaving a single drop.

“God, you taste so f*cking good.”

Just when you thought he was done, he opened up one of the drawers by his bedside to reveal a condom that he was about to place over his member. He asked you for your consent first to see if you were willing actually to do the deed with him.

“What makes you think I would say no after you literally just made me cum?”

He smirked. “That’s what I like to hear.”

Once he was done adjusting his member to the entrance of your core, he slowly pushed in as he climbed further up onto your back so that he was hovering over you completely now.

“God, Y/N. You’re so tight for me.”

“Then do your magic and help me loosen up, sweetheart.” You whined, already wanting him to go fast on you.

“Such an impatient one, aren’t you?”

With your consent, he instantly picked up his speed and went as fast as you would’ve preferred. There is nothing about going slow and gradually picking up his pace whatsoever. He grabs both of your hips and pounds into you continuously, checking up on you ever so often by leaning in to kiss you on your forehead.

You just looked so goddamn attractive to him at the moment. Your bareback, the way your long brown hair flowed down onto your back, and god, your moans. He swears he would definitely record them down so that he could listen to them all day at all times if he has to.

Especially when he needs that motivation right before heading up on stage before a performance.

“J-Jacob… I’m cumming…” You mewled.

“Cum for me then, baby. Do it with me.” He groaned.

With a few more powerful thrusts, you both reach your highs simultaneously and instantly release your juices together. He slowly pulls out his member from you and lays beside you as he reconnects his lips with yours.

“Our connection is something else, don’t you think? Perhaps we are really meant for one another.” Jacob announced, making himself clear while he was still panting from the intense workout.

“Gee, I had no idea you were this obsessed with me. What makes you think I’m special in your eyes?”

“I wouldn’t have asked you to attend another day of the concert and take you out to dinner if I weren’t interested in you.”

You both burst out in laughter before reconnecting your lips once again. But it all came to a halt when you suddenly realised how you had forgotten to keep your friends updated about the night, surely you have to return home sooner or later-

“Why don’t you stay over for the night? At least stay with me till the sun rises.” Jacob proposed, which, to be fair, was valid—you were in no shape to be able to walk normally after that intense session you both have just done.

“I can’t. My friends would worry about me.”

“Hmm. I think I could fix that.”

He gently takes your phone from you while having your consent to type out the message that he would send to the mutual friend you’ve both had.

🍐: change of plans, i’m keeping Y/N with me for the night. fyi, we’re more than just friends at this point.

masterlist

taglist: @deoboyznet @kflixnet @zzoguri (join my perm taglist here!)

#deoboyznet #k-vanity #k-labels #kflixnet #the boyz #tbz #the boyz x reader #the boyz imagines #the boyz scenarios #the boyz fanfic #tbz scenarios #the boyz smut #tbz smut #jacob bae #jacob bae x reader #jacob bae smut #jacob smut #jacob bae scenarios #jacob bae imagines

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queers-gambit · 1 year

Text

Kin Slayer [ part two ]

PICKS UP INSTANTLY FROM WHERE [ part one ] LEFT OFF [ alternate ending two: Sweetest Devotion ] [ series masterlist ]

pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon!wife!reader

fandom: House of the Dragon

word count: 5.4k+

note: two parts cause total word count was 12k+. also, this is the final, people!!

warnings: loose book spoilers - proceed at your own risk. cursing, spoilers, angst angst angst. ❗️SPOILERS

The Dance of Dragons was a bloody war that left families and towns splintered; burnt into nothing for wind to sweep away the ashes. Corlys had been named Hand of the Queen, and together, devised a plan to protect her remaining children. You were on bedrest at Dragonstone, so, you were accounted for. Joffrey was to be sent to the Vale with his dragon and a few eggs, as well as your step-sister, Rhaena, who visited you the most following Rhaenys' death.

Poor lass needed comforting, and you were happy to provide.

Your half-siblings, Viserys and Aegon (the Younger), were sent on a ship to Pentos - something you grew jealous of. Being on bedrest left no room for any other thought beside how you should have accepted, risked everything, and ran away with Aemond across the Narrow Sea.

This left Jace to step-up in your place, and after your advice, sent word for any Dragonseeds to attempt to master riderless dragons. Dragonseeds were Targaryen bastards and though very few ever got the right to ride a dragon, your brother offered an opportunity that only four could complete.

The ancient dragon Vermithor was claimed, as well as your father's dragon, Seasmoke, Silverwing, and the temperamental Sheepstealer.

However, at the same time, according to scouts, the Gullet of King's Landing had been overrun - and word reached you of your baby half-brother's demise. One captured, the other left to cling to his injured dragon and swim for Dragonstone's shore.

However, as your mother told you the news, there was a commotion from the courtyard that even Rhaenyra could not stop you from leaping to your feet to stare out the window.

"JACE!" You worried, hand to your cramping belly. "DON'T!"

But he was gone - away on Vermax, going to avenge his half-brothers in a fit of impulsive rage. In response to your stress, you gasped when your legs were covered in a sudden rush of slick, and before you were due, it was evident your child was coming. Your mother lead you back to the bed and called for the Maesters, never once leaving you alone through the bloody ordeal. It was the worst string of events you could recall - where Aegon was resting from his frightening ordeal, you were screaming in pain, and Jace was flying too low to the surface of Blackwater Bay - crashing.

Vermax did not survive the ordeal, and rumor had it, soldiers on the Green's ships fired at your helpless brother - spearing him to death. The pirates then made land-fall, and your father's home of Driftmark was set ablaze. Through the fire and smoke and pain and misery, you were no different.

The birth lasted two full days, and during the whole of it, you felt your emotional dam shatter. Through pain, sweat, and tears, you begged the room, "Please, please, someone find Aemond. Please, for the love of the Gods, get my husband. Please! Send for him! He should be here!"

"You know he cannot be here, love," Your mother tried to encourage, but you were sobbing harder.

"Please, fuck this war - fuck the succession. Fuck everything! J-Just let him be here, please! Please!" You sobbed, "Someone take Kasta - or just send Kasta herself! He will understand! Please, please, please, he should be here. I-I need him," you felt broken, "I need him here, please, get Aemond, find my husband, I need him, please, please."

Rhaenyra just held you tighter as you sobbed uncontrollably. With your dressing gown soaked all the way through with sweat and blood, you started to pace around the birthing chamber with your hand reached for your cunt periodically to feel for the diameter. You knew there was much time to go, but the pain was indescribable.

When the contractions were too powerful, you refused any aid - except your mother's. Rhaenyra was at your side as you squatted to the floor, using the stone wall to keep you upright as your hands tried to guide your babe from your bloodied cunt.

Still, you begged for Aemond because this was something you couldn't do alone and while you had your mother, you needed your husband. Your heart was broken, your stress tangible, and for the life of you, no matter how hard you screamed or begged, there was never any relief from pain - in head, body, and heart.

The darkness had only just set over your family.

As a messenger arrived to give news of Jacerys' death, you were pulling your still-born son out, sobbing at the sight of their his body. Your mother tried to remain strong but she was surrounded by death; both by a scroll detailing the demise of her first born son, and that of her first born child giving birth to twins who would never draw their first breaths. Rhaenyra held your son as you pulled your daughter out, soon slumping into the puddle of blood and fluid as you weakly held your babies.

"Spread your legs," your mother nodded, guiding your knees open as you only offered her a look of curiosity. "The afterbirth, my love," she explained, helping you in the final part of delivery - but you barely noticed. You didn't feel. How could you, when you were holding your heart in your arms? Your eyes were locked on the bloody babies, confusion and resentment circling your gut.

"Well," you whispered, glancing at your mother, "that's that, then."

She frowned deeply, gazing at the dead look in your eyes. "I'm so sorry, my girl."

You nodded slowly, only one question on your mind, "Do I tell him?"

Rhaenyra scoffed gently, "Give yourself time to grieve, my love. You need to mourn before you worry about anything else."

You sighed, head leaning back to the stone behind you as her hand reached out to pet sticky hair from your face. "Did I do this?" You whispered. "Did I push myself too far? Did... Did I kill my babies, Mumma? Is this my fault?"

She sighed with a frown, "In truth, you did not know about the ambush... I do not think the fault lies with you, my love. Sometimes, these things happen when the mother is under incredible stress."

You hummed as Aemond once did, unable to move. Even when she tried to coax you to your feet, you refused to get up as your body was drained of life, of purpose; of any energy or drive to continue forward. Yet, hours after giving birth, you were on your feet and wrapping both babies in cloth before presenting them to Kasta on a pyre of wood.

Your mother's hand remained in yours as your voice clearly rang out in the cold night, "Dracarys, Kasta."

She whined with steam leaking from her nose, waiting for you to give a second command before heaving a large inhale and upon exhale, let out of a stream of fire.

The light flickered in the night, and from that moment forward, you were never the same. Something in your heart snapped, something in your mind broke, and in your soul, shriveled into nothing. You were desperate to understand why your children had to suffer for someone else's war, and in your despair, forgot to pen a letter to Aemond.

Yet, perhaps that was good - for your anger bubbled as bright as Kasta's flames. You needed someone to blame and the stress of Rook's Rest seemed the most appropriate; leaving your mind set on the Greens. Your anger festered and showed in your fighting in the war, leaving nothing but smoldering ashes anywhere you were sent.

Time on Dragonstone became hectic following Jace's death. You were your parent's secret weapon and felt little ire for your actions; charging headfirst into danger without so much as a second thought towards consequences. With your babies gone, you felt little reason to be cautious - because being reckless seemed your speed now.

Word then reached your ear of Aemond marching armies and flying Vhagar into the Riverlands. Your spies told your mother, who had ensured to you that your step-father, Daemon, who was in Harrenhal still, also knew of the movements. You remained at Dragonstone with Kasta as your mother and Daemon flew to sack the Capital City, and soon enough, word reached you that the city fell in less than a day. You sent Rhaenyra's sons to her, but remained in the place you were to inherit.

Time passed still, and your heart never mended.

However, imagine your surprise when you came face-to-face with Aegon II in a darkened hall late one stormy night. "Aegon?" You questioned in earnest shock. "Am I seeing things? That really you?"

"It's me, sister," he snipped curtly, hands clasping before him.

"What're you doing here?"

"I've been here for a bit actually," he revealed. "I was smuggled from the capital before your mother took it."

"Hmm," you considered nervously, "I see. And you're here now, because...?"

He sighed, "If I ever owe my brother anything in this life, I will never again after this one curtesy. You can't win this war, Y/N, and there are Greens here to take the island."

"This is my home, Aegon, I cannot abandon it," you argued.

"I'm trying to give you time to go get your kid, get on your dragon and get the hell out of here," he snapped. "This is the one - the one curtesy I will grant my brother after all he's done."

"You owe him so much more," you sneered. "You do not deserve him."

"Did you, ever?" You steeled your jaw. "Now, go. Before I change my mind and instead send him your head."

"Where is he?" You decided not to mention the death of your children.

Aegon sighed, "The Riverlands, still. You might be able to find him."

You shook your head, "How'd it come to this, Aegon?"

"In truth?" He sighed. "I do not know anymore. But you need to go, get your kid, and get the Hells out of here. Do not try to alert the others," he nodded, and a guard stepped out. "My man here will ensure you do not stray from task."

Nodding, you whispered, "Thank you... Aegon."

He nodded in return, seemingly genuinely shocked by your words. You turned and rushed for your room, packing whatever you would need - whatever would fit for your trip. Aegon's man stayed true and saw you to Kasta, and you were left no choice in mounting and surging into the air. You had no choice but to abandon your home.

Aegon and Sunfyre watched you go.

You flew for days, no sign of any Black ally. You grew frustrated, and Kasta understood; taking control and turning to head a bit farther West. You were confused until you came across smoke, and through it, you made out the form of your husband's dragon burning the countryside. Fearing for the lives of those countrymen who lived here, Kasta located Vhagar in the air - but the great dragon saw her coming. It was a clash of flesh, teeth, and claws; yet neither you, nor Aemond, were willing to concede.

Fate worked in funny ways, and before you understood what was happening, you screamed when one of Vhagar's teeth pierced into the flesh of your calf when she latched onto Kasta's chest in a fatal bite.

You swore you heard Aemond telling Vhagar not to, but a moment later, you were thrown from the saddle as Vhagar had crushed your beast into the ground. You were momentarily knocked out before coming to again, noticing your armor had been ripped off in the crash, gazing around you as Vhagar took a victory lap in the air, and you saw your beloved mount... Laying unmoving.

"KASTA!" You screamed, half-crawling-half-limping your way to her in a rush, thinking you could save her. "Oh, Gods, no, no, fuck, fuck, fuck, this wasn't supposed to happen," you wept, letting her muzzle rest on your lap as you got a look at her injuries. Vhagar had all but gutted her, leaving thick spurts of blood to leak into the cratered ground around you. "Oh, my precious girl, not you... Not you," you sighed as you stroked her cheek and neck.

Behind you, Vhagar landed with a tremble, and your head whipped around with anger when you noted Aemond dismounting. Gritting your teeth, you stood to your unsteady feet and unsheathed your sword; turning to face Aemond as he came to a halt. "Love," he warned, hand held in caution, "it doesn't have to come to this."

"We're past that," you seethed. "What're you doing here? If your brother can't rule, you'll ensure there's not even a country to preside over?"

He shook his head, "I need to draw your step-father out."

"He's not so easily taunted," you argued, readjusting the weight of your sword, "but I know what will draw him to you."

"No," he refused, "I will not fight you."

"I did not say fight," you sighed, starting your approach and ignoring the pain through your legs. "You'll have to kill me today, Aemond. No more running, we finish this now."

"No," he backed up, but you did not stop. Taking a swing, he jerked back as his sword rose to the defense. "Sweetheart, no, just listen - "

"I'm done listening," another hack from your sword was blocked. "You've ruined everything," your tears surfaced as anger burst; channeling it through your movements that left Aemond shocked. "You had to kill my brother - and I have not known peace since!"

"It was an accident!"

"LIAR!" You raged, metal clanging together. "You wanted to torment him - you wanted to pursue! You could not let it go - and in turn, you ruined any future we could've had!" Your sword swung around, nearly catching his chest - forcing him to flinch backwards. "You did this - why!? Huh!? Why ruin what we had!? Fight me, Aemond! Show me the swordsman I know you to be and fucking fight me!"

"I cannot! I will not!"

"You must!" You heaved, and Aemond was forced to brandish his sword to fend you off. You grit your teeth, and for a moment, Aemond had no idea who you were. He's never fought you, he's never seen you fight, but he knew you father, Laenor, and step-father, Daemon, both trained you. They were incredible soldiers on their own, and in you, was all their skill. None of their distraction.

Aemond was losing this fight, and his temper was slipping.

"FIGHT ME!" You raged through angry tears, iron clanging against each other. "I am left with nothing, there is no more left for me to lose!" Another deafening clash of iron rang out around you. "You've taken everything with this stupid fucking war! I've lost it all! Everything! Because of YOU!" You fully sobbed, never relenting in your attack despite the exhaustion settling in. "My brothers! My dragon! My babies!"

"Wait! Wait, love, wait!" He barked, using both hands to hold his sword hilt against your swinging attack to simply pause in midair as you both panted heavily. "Wh-What're you talking about? What happened?"

Your eyes were dead but shining with tears, "They're dead."

"Who?"

You sniffled, "W-We should have a pair of beautiful twins. A little girl, who looks just like my Aunt Laena - and a little boy, you looked just as his father!" But the anger came back, making you swing the swords to break contact. You attacked again, making him block you, "They're both dead! Because of you and your attack on Rhaenys at Rook's Rest! You started this war - and I lost everything I've loved!"

"You weren't supposed to be there that day!" He insisted, still fending you off with his sword. "I thought with your pregnancy, your mother would not risk you!"

You laughed bitterly, "You weren't there to protect me, now were you? My mother needed me, I came back to her, and in return, I could not shy away from what she needed."

His breathing staggered, "You were sent to the frontlines."

"I was," you grit, pulling back before swinging again. "You weren't there! I needed you!" Another clash of swords. "I needed you with me, I was alone! I was alone, you let me be alone, I needed you, and you weren't there! I had to go through that birth with only my mother, and all I fucking wanted - all I fucking needed was you! You weren't there and I needed you!"

"That was not my doing - "

"You started this war when you killed my brother!" You raged. "Fight me, fucking Kin Slayer!"

Your hacking movements made him defensive and in a short moment, everything changed. Aemond, quick with his blade, but playing the evasive measure, had parried your attack before taking a wide, sharp swipe. But it was enough, and he froze the moment you did; eyes widening as shock passed between the short space between you.

Looking down, your tunic was blooming in bright red blood after the tip of his sword cut clean across your gut. Your hands, after months of pressing to the same area to hold your babies, now tried to hold your entails inside you as your sword clattered to the ground. You stumbled back a few steps, groaning as blood slowly coated your mouth, eyes cutting up to meet that of Aemond's fearful stare.

"A-Aemond?"

"Love?" He asked, dropping his blade to rush for you. You did not fight him, letting his hands take hold of you as he helped navigate you back towards a still-moaning, barely breathing Kasta. "Hey, hey, hey, no, no, no, no, no, no no, no," he whispered when you were lowered in your dragon's blood, leaning to her shoulder for support. "Oh, Gods, what have I done? No, please, no, fuck - Gods, no."

You smile ruefully, choking lightly on your blood; teeth lined with red as you whispered, "Now y-you cannot deny the title Kin Slayer."

"No, no, do not, don't do this, please," he argued. "Don't call me that, I-I'm your husband, I'm your love, your sweet husband, remember? Don't call me that, please. None of this should have happened - I'm so sorry - please. Just stay with me, okay? I-I'll fix this - I can fix this."

But you both knew he couldn't. Just like all those years ago when your hands had covered his injured eye, his pressed to your gut. Like those years ago, as your hands once had, now his were coating in your life's liquid.

It silent for a moment as all defenses of yours finally dropped and your tears suffocated you more than the internal bleeding you suffered through. "A-Aemond," you whispered, feeling one hand move to caress your cheek, "I-I'm so scared, love, please. I'm so scared. I don't want to do this alone, please, Aemond, don't make me do this alone. I-I need you, my love, please."

He sighed and moved beside you, not minding the wetness of the blood surrounding you both; lifting his arm to draw you into his warm embrace. You don't voice it, but you're starting to feel cold and the warmth he provided was something you cherished.

"I'm so scared, too, my love," he admits in a whisper. "I'm so sorry."

"I am, too," you sobbed into his neck. "I'm so sorry, I'm so fucking sorry. Aemond, please, i-it hurts, my love, please. I-I don't want to die, I don't want to be without you, I-I can't do this next part alone. I hate how this war played out," you whimpered, his arm tightening as the other came around to cradle your head into his neck. "I wish I would've run away with you when we had the chance. So much would be different... W-We'd have our baby."

"Don't do that," he rushed, kissing your sweaty forehead. "It's okay we didn't run, it's okay, sweet girl. It's all going to be okay, I promise you."

"What if it's not?"

"It has to be," he promised, giving you a squeeze. "I'm not leaving, you're not alone. I'm here, I'm right here, my love. You're okay. You're going to be okay, I promise you, you're never alone."

"Would you do me a favor?"

"Anything."

"Show me all of you," you whispered. Aemond understood and all but ripped his eyepatch off, caressing your cheek again. You sighed in wonder, "There he is. My handsome husband."

Aemond smiled sadly, "I don't think I can let you go."

"At-At-At least, y-you'll get Daemon out here," you chuckled sadly, fully leaning into his embrace as your neck hurt trying to keep it upright; crashing to his shoulder. "You'll get what you want - an end to this, if you kill him."

Aemond shook his head and tried to press a hand to your wound, again - but it only made more blood seep over his fingers. "My love, please, let me get you out of here. Kasta's spent, sweetheart, and I'm so fucking sorry for that loss, but I can get you t-to Maesters on Vhagar. Please, let me try."

"'S too late for me," you chuckled dryly, patting one of his wrists as your energy was depleting.

"What have I done?" he whispered, looking more panicked than the night he told you about Luke.

"What was needed in wartime," you sniffled, using your energy to lift your gaze up to him, again. Weakly, you let go of your wound to reach for the neckline of your tunic, pulling it down some and leaving smears of bloody fingerprints. "Please," you whispered.

He let his brows furrow, gently reaching for what you referred to. He breathed out when he discovered the golden Warrior pendent you had gifted him for his first nameday as a married couple.

"Take it," you begged, "let it protect you while I'm gone."

"Love - "

"It was a gift," you insisted. "Take it back. Do not make a dying woman beg."

"All right," he whispered, readjusting slightly to unclasp the chain and remove the necklace.

You settled back into his side as you knew the end was nearing. With your hands holding your entrails in and his arms tight around you, you whispered, "Is it true that you took a lover?" Aemond stops breathing for a second. "Please do not lie to me."

He shudders a moment, "I did."

"What's her name?"

He doesn't want to respond, but he does, "Alys. Alys Rivers."

You hummed breathlessly, whispering, "Do you love her?"

"No," he answers instantly, "but... She is useful."

"Oh, Aemond, I do not wish to hear - "

"No, no, you misunderstand," he rushes. "She's unlike anyone I've met. She... Sees things in the flames, love. Like a sort of witchcraft."

You hummed, "Like across the Narrow Sea."

He nodded, lips pressing over your forehead, "Yes."

"Then she told you to come here, did she?"

Aemond pauses, tears falling faster, harder, "She did..."

"Hmm," you sighed, "now I see. She knew I'd be here and needed you to commit to her."

"What?"

"That's how these things work," you croak with a sad smile, letting a bit of blood spit from your mouth to splatter on the dirt. "She needs you: mind, body, and soul. Y-You can't be hers because y-you're mine. W-With me gone, s-she can finally have you, and service you better. J-Just promise me something, please," you felt your throat starting to close.

"Anything, my love. Anything you ask for, I will always give you," Aemond promised swiftly, bringing your forehead to his.

Through your tears, you manage to whisper, "Please don't forget about me. With no children, we've no legacy, but... But if you don't forget me, I cannot ask for much else."

Aemond holds his breath again. Then, he whispers, "I could never forget you, my sweet girl. We are bonded together, my love, and you will always be a part of me, my darling, sweet wife. I will never forget you because I could never love another because all my love is yours, and always will be." It's quiet for a moment before he admits, "You're it for me, my pretty girl, I won't ever love another, won't ever take another wife, and I'm so fucking sorry." His sobs become uncontrollable, holding onto you tightly, "I'm so sorry. This never should have come to pass, I'm so sorry."

You nod, "I forgive you... For all of it." You're dying and there's no use denying that, not wanting to take your anger to the grave. "Aemond, now I-I need to ask the impossible of you, my love."

"Anything," he promises.

But you sobbing through your request, "Kill me, pl-please. J-Just make it stop, love, it hurts so bad. So fucking bad. Please."

For the first time in his life, Aemond had to refuse you, "No, no, not in this lifetime, I cannot - please, do not ask that of me. Let me get you help - "

"It's too late for me, my love, and we both know it," you sniffled. "Please, Aemond. Ju-Just make it s-s-stop."

"I cannot," he whimpered, forehead to yours again. "I love you so much, more than reason and more than life. I cannot do this to you, I-I hate myself for where we are now. Please do not ask this of me."

"I-I don't want to go," you admitted, holding onto him so you were nearly pulled fully into his lap. "I'm so scared, Aemond, please. I don't want to do this alone, please, my love, I don't want to be alone. I just want to be with you, I can't go - I don't want to go. Please, I don't want to be alone."

"You'll never be alone," he tried to promise but his emotion was too thick to sound confident. "There's so many who love you who are waiting for you beyond this life. They're going to be with you, always, an-and soon, I will be there with you. You'll wait for me, right? Yes?"

You nodded against him, trying to hold your sobs in, "I'll wait for you, my love, yeah. As long as it takes, I'll wait for you."

"I'll miss you so much," he whispers. You smirk gently, lifting a bloody hand to pet over his cheek - staining any part of him you touched with blood. "I know it pains you, but I'm glad, in the end, it was you."

"Don't say that," he pleaded.

"I am, because I get to meet my end with you," you nodded. "But Aemond, yo-you've gotta finish it for me, love."

"No," he refused again.

"Please," you begged quietly. "Just do it, Aemond. I-I'm not surviving this, I'll only suffer worse."

"I cannot," he still refused. "I know it is a kindness, my sweet girl, but I cannot be the one who takes your life - not like this. Please, do not ask this of me."

Kasta gave a low groan.

"Would you do me a different kindness, then?" You whispered.

"I will try to," he nodded, tears falling down his soaked cheeks. Above, the sky slowly started to darken as a new storm brewed.

"Kiss me goodbye," your bottom lip trembled as you tried to smile at him but the action was near impossible. "Please, husband?"

"You need never ask me. I love you so much, my sweet girl," he swore, leaning in to press a last kiss to your bloodied lips. You hummed softly, keeping him close for a moment longer to savor this moment. But it was over far too soon.

"I love you, too," you sniffled when you pulled back and he started to shift onto his feet, but remained crouched to keep level with you. "Do not forget me, my love, please."

"Never in my life," he whispered, letting his tears flow as he took one final kiss. "I'll miss you beyond words, my pretty girl."

"Thank you," you whispered, unable to keep yourself upright and leaning dependently on Kasta.

"For what, my love?"

You smiled through your tears and pain, "For the love of a lifetime. I-I wish we had longer, too, because the time we had wasn't enough."

Aemond's jaw clenched as his tears would not stop; hearing you recall his words from months ago shattering his heart. Nodding, his lips pressed to your forehead, and with one last caress of your head and lingering promises of his love, he had to pull away. You grinned as you watched him, chuckling to yourself before coughing on your blood; letting it splatter uselessly across your lap while weakly holding your wound.

"Still with me, precious girl?" You asked Kasta in High Valyrian, who gave a low groan. You stiffly tried to sit up some, but only managed a half-shuffle. "Will you do something for me?" She purred. "L-Looks like neither of us are getting out of this, my gem... I-I need you to end it for me, my girl."

But she growled.

"Dracarys, Kasta," you sobbed through your pain. "Please, Kasta! Dracarys! Do not make me suffer, please, dracarys!"

But your dragon's head lowered to the bloody ground, belly and throat left slashed open from Vhagar, and as if in sync, you both breathed outward for a final time. Just as you came into this world with a bright, emerald green dragon egg, so you left this world with the soul of that very same dragon.

Exactly as it all started, it all ended.

Rumors swirled around the country regarding the demise of Rhaenyra's eldest child, Princess Y/N Velaryon, now Princess Y/N Targaryen - devoted and beloved wife of Prince Aemond. Some say she went mad with grief from losing her brothers and children, some say it was self-inflicted. But the thickest rumors reached Daemon's ears about how it was Vhagar and her own husband who killed the Jewel of Westeros and the Great Emerald.

Aemond could not deliver the final, fatal blow; leaving her there to bleed out from her wounds in a pool of Kasta's blood. Aemond refused to sit with the absolute, infinite knowledge that he killed his wife, and instead of manning up to help her from the pain he inflicted, he only turned away from her.

He left her.

He had prayed Kasta would end her suffering but rumors reached his own ears about how she was found - fully intact - in her dragon's cradle. Kasta's head was claimed for the Green's and sent to King's Landing for trophy-keeping, and years later, was one of the skulls Robert Baratheon smashed to dust during his Rebellion. Aemond did not know pain like this, and on Daemon's fourteenth day of waiting, Aemond arrived at Harrenhal. Both were enraged by their grief, both feeling the sting of loss...

Daemon, over his beloved step-daughter as his own seed, and Aemond, over his sweet wife; both mourning the same loss, but refusing to see eye-to-eye.

"Is it true?" Daemon demanded when Aemond faced him. "Is it true that you killed her? I deserve to know what became of my child."

"It was an accident," Aemond tried.

But Daemon snorted, "Then this is where it ends. You and me, nephew."

"To the death?" Aemond checked.

"To the death, Kin Slayer," Daemon growled - sending both men to mount their dragons and to the skies.

Yet, in the end, legend has it that neither survived. Historians know Aemond Targaryen died that day after discovering the bones of Vhagar in the lake's waters with her rider still chained to her saddle. The skull still had Dark Sister driven through an empty eye socket. Though, Caraxes was found dead on shore, her rider, Daemon, never was.

Nobody knows for sure what happened, but from your place in the Heavens, you watched with Aemond back in your arms as Nettles came to rescue your severely injured step-father. They stole away on Sheepstealer, and made a new life across the Narrow Sea - the life you and Aemond should have had, but fate never allowed.

But in the clouds, you were reunited with those you loved and lost; spending time with your eye on land, watching how the war ends as your husband's arm remained snug around you. When the end of the war finally reigned and (most) of your loved ones joined you in the Kingdom Above, you and Aemond stepped back from the clouds, and together, with your hands locked together, fell back into eternal rest.

🍒 fin

[ part one ]

[ alternate ending two: Sweetest Devotion ]

[ series masterlist ]

#aemond targaryen #prince aemond #aemond the kinslayer #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x fem!reader #aemond targaryen imagine #house of the dragon #hotd #hotd imagine #hotd x reader

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wroteclassicaly · 1 year

Note

I can't get that library gif set you reblogged out of my head. Like sir bang me against the table in a secret library room

I can definitely imagine it now.

A/N: Language, NSFW, smut, creampie, vaginal fingering, mentions of masturbation, sex in public, all kinds of filth and brain thot rot.

You’ve been passing notes back and forth all day, needing Steve, needing him to need you. The last one seems to get his attention more than any of the rest.

~*~

Stevie…?

I have to confess that I broke one of our rules today. Couldn’t wait until we had to study for the science exam tonight. Just needed something to hold me over. I tried my own fingers again, but they weren’t as good as yours. I came though, and I decided to taste it this time. Fuck, baby, it wasn’t bad. Can’t wait for you to have your turn.

Xoxo

And you’d pressed your frosted lips to seal the enveloped spiral sheet, happily sated for the moment. It was only when Steve caught you around the elbow during sixth period, waiting for the corridor to empty before dragging you into the library, your ass ramming into the wooden table, lamps shaking from the pressure—that you realized the extent of your little love letter.

“You know how hard it was to talk about the fucking civil war with a raging boner in history class?”

“I can see it was hard.” You gulp around your observation of his bulge, nestled beneath tight denim washed jeans.

His thumb finds your chin, the pad resting just on your lower lip and pulling. He steps closer, his breath hot and smelling like his secret courtyard cigarette, the mints he pops after to cover the scent, and the glass bottle of Coke that he keeps in his locker to sip on during passing.

“Spread your legs and take off your panties.”

A sporadic thump echoes in your guts, making you gasp. “But the librarian—“

“Is eating her lunch way up front. We’re all the way back here.” He tuts at your hesitation.

“What? You couldn’t help yourself when you snuck off to touch my pussy, could you?”

“I didn’t mean-“

“Oh, I know exactly what you meant, honey,” he says, briefly breaking with a low rapped rasp in his gravelly tone. “tell me, where’d you do it at?”

“Steve…”

“I asked you—“ His mouth finds the shell of your ear, hot breath caressing the shell, stimulating your nipples beneath the cotton of your bra. “—where. did. you. do. it.?”

“In the girl’s bathroom.”

His teeth find your lobe, tugging gently. “Oh yeah? Did you ride your hand, back against the stall? Maybe you propped a foot up on the toilet seat? Or did you sit down so you could spread those legs a little more?”

You moan with a gaped mouth, reaching for his watch covered wrist and squeezing. You don’t argue anymore. He filters a hand beneath the backs of your thighs as you lift, hand tucking into the fabric of your underwear, his other hand sliding along your leg, helping part your limbs to attach to the soaked silk, assisting you in getting it off. You want to bury your face into his shoulder when the string of how much you’re turned on connects from you to the crotch of your panties. Steve rubs his fingers through it, before he pockets your garment in his jeans, stepping back into place and undoing his own pants.

“I can’t wait anymore, baby. And it’s all your fault—“ He clutches onto your hand and presses it into the table beside your left thigh, his other hand stroking along your neck. “—M’ gonna cover your mouth now, and I’m gonna fuck you, honey. And no one will know what’s going on back here but us.”

When you agree and he’s already taking himself through your wetness, the shiny slick visible in lamplight, across the table, your spare hand finds his shoulder and clenches as he pushes inside, giving you a few seconds to adjust, whispering in your ear, your stutters coming off as little bursts of air against his palm that’s hovering over your lips.

“It’s okay. I know, I know, sweetheart. Give it a second, like always.” He pulls his hand away to slide between your legs and rub at your clit, his mouth finding yours as he begins a rhythm.

It gets loud, audible even over his big hand clasped over your mouth. When you can’t take it, you’re squeezing his waist, hand pulling and running through his hair, fingers on your left side still interlocked, he starts to falter, eyes wide, forehead resting against yours. “Shit, honey. Fuck, baby. You’re soaking my cock for me, what a good fucking girl you are.”

It’ll be a mess if he pulls out, so you fall back onto your elbows, letting him hike your legs around his waist, his hands finding purchase on the table, one spreading your cunt open to rub your clit in time with the rhythmic movements and the creaking of the table. He cums seconds before you, an apologetic whimper where you have to reach out and cover his mouth, the vibrations undoing your own orgasm. He fucks you through it, palm back over your mouth until you stop trembling and can speak without whimpering. He nuzzles you, stroking your shaking thighs. “You okay?”

“So glad I passed you that note, Steve.”

“Take that as a yes then?”

When he helps you off the table and leads you out with your fingers laced and his cum warm and inside you, dangerously close to dripping down your thighs, that’s his perfect payback.

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confessionbrain-writings · 1 year

Text

Another one - Henry Cavill (Grand Suite part four)

Pairing: Henry Cavill x OFC

Warnings: Throughout this miniseries there will be 18+ content so minors DNI!

Word count: approx. 2,8k

A/N: Hi there lovelies. Can I start (again) with sharing my gratitude over the fact that part three was so well received, it really warms my heart! Like mentioned before I never pictured this as a series until some of you asked for more and I have to confess that since then my mind went crazy. After seeing Enola Holmes 2, the various interviews and ofcourse the pictures of this gorgeous human being, my mind wondered in all the right places, leaving me horny as fuck but also fueling my inspiration for continuing these series. So I have to say there will be a lot of smut coming because I can’t help myself, sorry not sorry.

Even though I enjoy the likes/hearts I would love love love and appreciate to hear from you what you think (those who have left me a message thanks a million!). Anyway, without further ado here is part four which I hope you enjoy just as much as I did.

Masterlist Grand Suite🔥

“Needed to see you? Again?!”

“Yeah I know, that’s what he said! And then we had this hot make-out session.”

“Hot damn, Jojo!” Jenny whispered, “the thought alone makes me hot already so you probably must be molten lava from the inside!”

A snort escaped your throat while quickly glancing back at Henry who was waiting for you at the bar. His blue eyes met yours, feeling like he was staring straight into your soul while you whispered a very quick recap to Jenny.

Even though you’ve seen him a few times now his appearance still made your knees weak. Not to mention how the slickness between your thighs grew and grew at the thought of your previous hook-up and the fact that he came back for you. Telling you he couldn’t shake your little adventure from his mind and wanted to see you again. Well, see.. You could easily fill in the blank and to be honest you craved the same. Very much so.

“Oh bitch, you have no idea…” you started while turning your gaze back to your best friend and co-worker Jenny, “are you sure you’re gonna be okay Jen?”

Jenny’s face turned to stone as she gripped your wrists. “Babe, if you don’t go now I will go in your place instead. I’m sure my sweet David will understand and forgive me since he’s obsessed with Superman. And besides,” she glanced over her shoulder, “when Lance comes back I will tell him you’ve got your period and that is was really bad. He will ask no further questions since he probably be cringing in the corner of the bar.”

“Gods, you’re the best you know that?” You said while quickly hugging her.

Jenny smiled. “I know, I know. Now go, I love you.”

“Love you too.”

Squeezing her hands one more time you grabbed your bag and walked towards Henry.

“Ready, darling?” He asked.

“I’m all yours.” You replied and heard a soft hum escape his lips as his eyes darkened slightly.

—

As soon as the elevator doors on the ground floor of the hotel closed you were in Henry’s arms again. This time the kissing was bolder and messier. Smacking sounds and moans filling the small interior as you made your way up.

With a squeak the doors opened when you’ve reached the destined floor where the grand suite was located and where you had very fond memories of. Little did you know back then that he would come back for you and you’d be here again. If someone had told you this you would’ve laughed them straight in the face.

A shudder ran down your spine as you felt Henry’s hand on the small of your back, guiding you silently through the hallway. The only sounds were your muffled footsteps on the thick carpet and the soft panting from your make-out session. You looked up at him as his hand reached into his pocket to retrieve the card-key to unlock the creme-colored door of the grand suite.

He glanced back at you and opened the door with one hand while the other grabbed the nape of your neck. Before you knew it he had dragged you inside, kicked the door shut and slammed you against it while pressing his body firmly into yours as he hungrily kissed you again.

Your head spun and the way his body melted into yours left you breathless. Gods, he felt so good against you, the way his hands roamed over your body, how his lips moved over yours. More. More. More. Was all you could think and it appeared he shared the same thoughts.

As he broke the kiss the both of you reached for your clothes and you were sure that you’ve never undressed this quickly before. As soon as you were naked as the day you were born you were on each other again, unable to stop the urge to feel skin on skin.

You placed your hands on his shoulders as his broad arms wrapped around your waist, lifting you up as his hands glided over your ass. Pressing you back to the door, you whimpered when you felt his erection press against your lower stomach.

He was hard. Rock hard and the feeling of it made your body feel electric.

“Oh fuck, Henry,” you whimpered as you traced his chest, abs and stroked his hard member. He hissed, resting his forehead against yours and moved his hips lazily into your touch.

“Joanne,” he swore, “I want to fuck you so bad right now, you have no idea.”

Fucking hell, these few words made you yearn for him even more, the need so intense you felt like you could explode. Both of your self control was hanging on by a very, very thin thread by now and as he halted his movement he stared up at you. Without saying the words you knew what he was about to ask.

“Clean?”

You nodded furiously, “and on birth control. So just fuck me already or I’m about to fucking scream.”

He barked out a short laugh and then spanked your ass, retrieving a yelp from you.

“So needy… start of the lesson, stop acting like a brat and say please or another consequence will follow.”

Your ass cheek stung from the smack and you couldn’t help when a grin appeared on your face. You wanted to disobey, you wanted be a brat and to meet his consequences. You wanted to challenge him and put him on edge, the thought of him having a certain power over you and being dominant made the blood in your veins pound even faster.

But besides that the hunger for him was bigger. The empty feeling in your lower stomach aching as you clenched around nothing, you wanted him, you needed him. And you needed him now.

You tried to guide his cock to your entrance but he interrupted your action by grabbing your wrist and held it above your head against the wall.

He clenched his jaw as you let out a frustrated groan. “Fine, just fuck me please.”

A smirk appeared on his face while releasing your wrist, his hand guiding his cock to your slick opening.

“Good girl,” he praised and your body vibrated in anticipation. His grip tightened as he slammed his hips against yours, filling you completely. The force and pace of his thrust kicked the air out of your lungs as he started to pound you against the door.

Your nails dug into his shoulders, bracing yourself and held on for dear life. Moans spilled out of your throat as you rasped for air. He didn’t gave you a chance to adjust, the way he was fucking you was relentless, feral and full of need. Even though the force and sudden stretch caused a slight sliver of pain, the pleasure was way greater and seeing the look on his face… Fucking hell.

The curl that turned your insides to liquid fell onto his forehead, his mouth slightly ajar so the panting breaths could escape, and his eyes.. Damn his ocean eyes were darkened with desire, staring at you with a feral need.

“Ah fuck!” You swore as you wrapped your arms around his neck so your chest was flush to his.

Sweat started to form on his brow. He tilted his head, pressing his lips against your neck and sucked at the delicate skin. Drawing a curse from you and you felt his lip curl up into a grin. You scraped your nails across his back, trying to pull him even closer. He kept moving rigorously and didn’t hold back.

He groaned in your ear as he kept thrusting into you, meeting you at all the right places. With every stroke you came closer and closer to your orgasm, the built up made you clench around him.

“Fuck darling,” Henry hissed through gritted teeth as his thrusts started to falter, chasing his own high, “you feel so fucking amazing.”

All it took were a few more thrusts for you to fall over the edge. The blood in your ears rang as the dopamine from your orgasm spread throughout your veins, warming your entire being. Henry following you right after and with one final, hard thrust he came.

Your whole body tingled and you closed your eyes while savoring the moment. The way his sweat covered skin warmed yours, the soft curls of his chest brushing against your hardened nipples as he also tried to catch his breath while softly stroking your back, it all was just right.

He was the first one to break the silence. “Are you alright, darling?”

Him calling you darling seems to get you every time. A smile tugged at your lips as you answered.

“More than alright.”

“Good, well let’s get you cleaned up.”

Still buried inside you he carried you across the big suite and gently put you back onto your feet when you arrived in the bathroom.

While Henry turned on the tap of the shower, grabbed two towels and laid down two robes you looked around. Last time you never made it to the bathroom and just like the rest the room was extraordinary and huge. But unlike the light interior of the apartment the bathroom was dark, tiled with big and anthracite tiles, from the ceiling hung a big rain shower head and a broad mirror plastered across the wall, mirroring the entire space making it look even bigger than it already was.

“Joanne,” his voice snapped you out of your thoughts and you caught his gaze through the mirror, “get that bratty ass over here.”

You swallowed and bit your lip at the sight of him. He stepped under the soft stream and you watched how the water cascaded over his face onto his shoulders down his abs, his delicious cock and over his mighty thighs. Damn, you wished you had your phone on you so you could record this and watch it over and over. How could something so simple be so freaking hot?

Stepping into the shower you felt the warm drops hit your skin and you couldn’t suppress a soft hum leaving your lips. Henry dragged his tongue over his lips and gently tugged you under the stream, turning you around so your back was pressed against his chest.

You watched your reflection in the mirror while he gently caressed your arms up and down, moving on to your shoulders and kneading the flesh there.

“Mmm,” you hummed and closed your eyes, the muscles relaxing under his touch. Slowly he moved down your shoulders, massaging your back, descending to your waist and squeezing the soft flesh there. You leaned into his touch and let your head fall back against his shoulder.

He switched to your front and drew small circles across your stomach. The sensation made your core flutter as you shifted on your feet. His hands following this invisible path and ended with your breasts. With his pointer finger and thumb he pinched the erected buds and you ached into his touch, a small moan rolling over your lips.

“I love these,” he murmured and cupped your breasts fully now. You gasped as you felt him harden behind you, pressing against your cheeks and you couldn’t help but grind your ass on him. While he played with your breasts he nipped at your neck, his teeth grazing your delicate skin. The motion sending a throbbing sensation straight between your legs.

“Is this your definition of ‘cleaning up’?” You breathed, while opening your eyes and meeting his gaze through the mirror which slowly started to get foggy.

He cocked his brow, “Do you want me to stop?”

“No!” You responded right away which caused him to chuckle.

“Still so needy,” he said cocky and while one hand played with your breast the other slowly made its way down over your stomach and slipping between your legs. Stroking the tender flesh and flicking over the throbbing bundle of nerves which made you cry out.

You held on to his arm which was snaked around you and felt your pulse quicken again as the feeling of another orgasm started to built. He moved his hand further down and slipped two of his fingers into your wet folds. You gasped and moaned as he touched that soft spot which made you see stars.

“Look at yourself,” he said, his voice gravel as he kept moving. You hadn’t noticed that you had shut your eyes and when you met your reflection you clenched around his fingers, causing him to hiss. A choked sob escaped your lips at the sight of your reflection.

Even though the reflection got foggier you still could make out the corded muscle flex in his arm as he kept moving. But that was not the main reason a burst of pleasure shot through your body. It was the way how you looked in his grasp. You knew and felt that he was massive but seeing yourself while he towered and hovered around you, making you seem small, was nothing like you’ve felt before.

Turns out you apparently had another kind of size kink. And to even top it off that bloody curl was now dripping onto his forehead and you felt like you could burst right out of your skin.

“Oh fuck!” You wailed as your legs started to buckle, unable to fight the trembling. It was like all your nerves and skin were set aflame. Henry held you tight against his chest.

“Are you gonna come for me?”

“Yes!” The word leaving your lips like a whisper.

“Say please.” He growled and you whimpered when he adjusted the pace. No, no, no! You were so close.

“Henry, no…” you whined, “don’t tease me!”

“Then obey me, you brat,” he growled in your ear while pulling you harder against his chest, continuing the steady and excruciating pace.

“You know what I want to hear, darling.”

The built up tension was now so high. Your climax within your reach, feeling like you were dangling on the edge of a cliff. The frustration making you forget your morals so you dug your nails into his arms as you begged.

“Okay please Henry, please let me come. Please, please, please!”

A groan vibrated through his chest, rolling out of his throat as he loosened his grip around you. Before you could blink he had you turned around with your back against the cool tiles while kneeling in front of you, eyeing your sex.

Wait, what? You were having a hard time to process what was happening, your head and thoughts drowning in desire. He hooked your leg over his shoulder, gripping you tight and dived right between your legs.

Oh. My. God.

You blinked as if you almost couldn’t believe your eyes. He plunged his tongue straight into your folds as his fingers dug into your flesh. Licking and sucking the aching skin while your leg dangled over his shoulder.

Your hands snaked into his hair for leverage and for the fact that you needed him closer. He looked up at you and your heart skipped a beat.

My, my, this was so freaking hot.

He held you like you weight nothing and squeezed your ass cheeks as he moved on to your clit and flicking his tongue over it. He hummed and the vibrations had you reeling for him.

“Oh fuck, Henry please!” You panted while tightening your grip onto his hair, “right there!”

You couldn’t remember when or if someone has ever made you this desperate to climax before.

Slipping his fingers back inside he stimulated your sacred spot. Stars started to form in your sight as your heart beat like a war drum and you couldn’t help the animalistic noises leaving your throat.

Your muscles clenched one more time, pulsing and relaxing as your orgasm washed over you. Finally feeling like you jumped right of the cliff and into oblivion. Gasping for air as your lungs burned, the ringing in your ears was immense as you tried to catch your breath.

“That’s my good girl,” he muttered and after pressing a gentle kiss against the inside of your thigh he rose to his feet, still holding you tight. And thank the heavens he did because your legs felt so weak you weren’t sure if they would support you.

“My goodness Henry,” you managed to bring out as you felt like you slowly descended back into your body again, “you’re insane.”

He chuckled, grabbed the bottle of shampoo and started to gently soap you in, now in fact cleaning you up. “Oh darling, if you only knew…”

You shuddered at the thought. Gods, if you did only knew.

Taglist (some links don't seem to work): @lizzystuffsthings @eldarwen333 @ysmmsy @astheskycries @daybreak96 @death-unbecomes-you @lelelululeahleah @i-beg-your-pardon-laufeyson @greensleeves888 @justduckingaround12 @cricket66 @summersong69 @kebabgirl67 @identity2212 @leigh70 @kingliam2019 @theworldwonder @just-me-viktoria @foxyjwls007 @lysarria @gummydummy19 @enchantedbytomandhenry @sofiebstar @raccoon-eyed-rebel @bishhh2003 @daybreak96 @sunshine96 @evansabove1981 @teamfan7asy @midnight-stranger @eviesmith1810

#henry cavill #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill fic #henry x reader #henry cavill x you #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill fluff #henry cavill smut

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sourwolf-sterek32 · 1 year

Text

The Chief’s Daughter

Summary: It had been six years since your father left you behind in New York. However, now that your mother was gone, you had no choice but to drive to Hawkins to find him. That's where you meet Billy Hargrove, who turns your life upside down... literally.

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: language, blood

Chapter 9-

Hopper took you to the hospital after dropping all the kids off at their homes including Billy and Max. To your relief, Hopper had spun some lie about why Billy took so long to get Max home and Neil Hargrove seemed to believe it.

The doctors said you just had a suffered a Grade 2 concussion, but after some must needed rest you would be okay.

El had slept for nearly 24 hours after draining her energy closing the gate and you weren't far off that either. Hopper had actually insisted for you to take Monday off school and you weren't going to argue about that because that meant you missed double math, so it was a win-win.

"You and Hopper patch things up?" Steve called out, jogging over to you as the Chief drove out the carpark after dropping you off.

His eye was still deeply bruised and you knew Billy would have similar marks too, you just hoped there were no new ones from Neil added to it.

"Not even close." You answered, throwing your backpack over your shoulder. "Did I miss much in class yesterday?"

Steve shook his head, "just lots of Pythagoras which I still don't understand. And having to deal with a worked-up Billy Hargrove on the basketball court. So just another Monday really."

"Wait, why was he worked up?"

You were almost positive that Hopper covering for Billy and Max the other night was enough to get Neil off his back, but maybe you were wrong.

"He was worried about you, especially when you didn't show up yesterday."

"Oh." Was all you could say before the familiar sound of the Camaro roared into school and you turned around to find the slick blue Chevy pull up in his usual carpark, Iron Maiden blasting through the open windows.

"Well, I don't want to give Hargrove another excuse to punch me." Steve said, motioning to his black eye. "I'll see you in class."

You waved goodbye as Steve walked towards the school before you began to make your way over to the Camaro just as Billy and Max climbed out.

"If you're not back here in time after basketball practice-" Billy started to say before Max cut him off.

"I'm skating home. I know." She said, rolling her eyes as she began to skate off towards Middle School next door.

Billy glared at the back of his sister's head before he locked the Camaro, but the glare on his face vanished when he saw you walking towards him. Instant relief washed over him and you found yourself sighing with relief noticing that the only bruises on his face were the ones from Steve.

"How's your head?" He asked, trying to act cool, but you could you tell he was worried.

"It's fine. Probably going to scar though."

Billy took a step towards you and lifted his hand, tracing his thumb gently over the butterfly stitches still over the cut. His bright blue eyes staring at it before meeting your gaze as he bit his lip.

"What is it?" You asked, knowing he wanted to say something, but was clearly second guessing himself.

He didn't say anything for the longest time before he grabbed your waist and pulled you into his body. You let out a small, surprised yelp at the sudden movement before his lips were on yours silencing you.

Billy Hargrove was kissing you in the school parking lot in front of everyone. Holy shit.

You quickly kissed him back, your hands coming up and cupping his face as he stepped back into the side of the Camaro while holding your hips firmly against his body.

The two of you only pulled apart when the school bell rang and then proceeded to make out and be late to first period late, but you figured it was worth it.

The school day dragged by, and you were sick of everyone asking about the cut on your forehead. Although, you were intrigued about the rumours that were spreading through the halls about Steve and Billy getting into a fight after showing up with marching bruises.

Some simply thought that the bruises were a mere coincidence and weren't connected. But others believed that Steve got fed up with Billy taking over his King title and finally did something about it. However, the most popular rumour rolling through Hawkins High was that Steve had tried to get with you and Billy found out about it.

Neither Billy nor Steve seemed to care about the rumours. Simply brushing them off whenever someone asked about it. Nobody really tried to ask you about it which wasn't a surprise since you didn't speak with anyone unless you were forced to for class.

You weren't at Hawkins to make friends, however, now that the whole Upside Down thing happened, Nancy, Jonathan and Steve had taken it upon themselves to interact with you more. It was mainly just small greetings in the hallways, but it was more than what you were expecting.

By time the bell rang for school, you were ready to go home. You were still a little fatigued from the concussion and had started to get a headache by third period, so of course when you walked to the carpark, Hoppers Chevy was nowhere to be seen.

You sighed and sat down on the curb while your fellow students walked past and left. The carpark becoming less and less full as the minutes ticked by and before you knew it, there was only a handful of cars left, most of which belonged to the basketball team who you knew had practice Tuesday afternoons.

Hopper had promised he would be waiting in the carpark after school to drive you home, but of course, he wasn't here. You should have seen that coming.

Logically, you knew he was probably busy at work. He was the Chief of Police after all, but a small part of you thought that maybe he had just forgotten about you and that hurt more than the headache you had.

"Hey, you're the Chief's daughter, right?" An unfamiliar voice called out.

You glanced over your shoulder to find a guy with long dark hair walking towards. You had seen him in class and around the place before. He sat with those nerds in the cafeteria, all wearing matching shirts and he was extremely loud, unafraid to speak his true thoughts.

He had never spoken to you before though. Most people didn't speak to you, so it wasn't that weird. It was how you liked it.

Eddie Munson.

You had heard of him. Most the school knew who he was. It was his second year as a Senior and was the local drug dealer. That was just common knowledge, so why the hell was he willingly talking to you?

"I am. And you sell drugs to teenagers. Shouldn't you be like, I don't know, avoiding the Chief's daughter and not talking to her?" You asked, looking over at him.

Eddie smiled in amusement, "that would be the smart thing, right? Lucky for you, I'm not so smart."

"That why you're repeating senior year?"

"Pretty much yeah. Although the way my grades are going, I'll be repeating next year too."

He walked over and plonked himself down on the curb beside you and you had absolutely no idea why he was still talking to you let alone sitting beside you.

"Rumour has it that Harrington tried to steal you from Hargrove. Explains their injuries, but it doesn't explain yours. What happened?" He asked, motioning towards the cut on your forehead.

"Rumour has it that you and your little cult worship the devil." You shot back, trying to avoid his question.

"Not a cult just a club for nerds."

You nodded, but the small action made your headache pulse causing you to wince a little. Stupid concussion.

"You okay?" Eddie asked, a hint of worry in his eyes.

"It's fine, just got a headache." You brushed off.

Eddie stared at you for a moment before he pulled his backpack from his shoulder and began rifling through the front pocket trying to find something before he eventually pulled out a packet of ibuprofen and held it out towards you.

"Really? Thought you'd have something a little stronger." You joked, taking the painkillers with a small smile.

"I might not be smart, but I'm not stupid enough to give weed to the Chief's daughter."

"Fair point." You agreed, popping a couple of the pills and swallowing them before handing the packet back. "Thank you."

Neither of you said anything for a few minutes as you sat in surprisingly comfortable silence, but you were still trying to wrack your brain on why Eddie Munson was sitting with you. He didn't even know you.

"Is there a reason that you're talking to me, Munson?" You eventually asked, unable to help yourself.

"Honestly? No. I was walking back to my van and saw you sitting here alone, you looked kinda sad. Figured you could use a friend."

You raised your eyebrow, "we're friends now?"

"Your boyfriend probably wouldn't like that. Just thought you could use some company while you waited for him... I mean, I figured he was taking you home since I can't see that loud Mustang anywhere." He explained, looking back at the vastly empty carpark behind him.

"No, actually the Chief is meant to pick me up. But, he got held up at work."

"Oh."

You snorted softly at the slightly panicked look on his face as he glanced over his shoulder like he expected Hopper to be standing behind him with handcuffs.

"Relax, he won't arrest you for talking to me and Billy won't punch you for it either. I'm my own person, those guys don't get a say in who I decide to talk to." You responded and Eddie nodded, still a little tense though. "You can go though if you want. I'm fine waiting by myself and thanks for the pain killers."

Eddie looked half tempted to accept the out you were giving him, but to your surprise he shook his head and remained seated and the two you ended up talking about Metallica for the next 20 minutes.

"Munson. The fuck you doing?" Billy's voice shouted from across the school.

You looked up to find him walking towards the two of you, his skin still glistening from his post training shower, but he was glaring at Eddie who just sighed dramatically and stood up.

"Hargrove, pleasure as always." Eddie said with a forced smile, but Billy just glared harder at him. "Relax, big boy, I was just giving her some pain killers. She has a headache."

You stood up too, throwing your backpack over your shoulder as Billy stopped in front of the two of you, his eyed glued to Eddie with an unreadable expression.

"Pain killers? You trying to get her high?"

"High on Ibuprofen? I don't think that's possible, but I do have some weed if you're interested?"

"Your weed is shit compared the stuff in Cali. Ain't wasting my money on that crap." Billy grunted, staring at him for a moment before he took a step towards you and leant forward kissing you a little more passionately than usual and you knew it was to make a point in front of Eddie.

"Relax, we were just talking." You whispered against his lips.

You half expected Billy to ark up and tell Eddie to stay away from you, but to your surprise and relief, Billy simply nodded.

"Why are you still here? School ended like an hour ago." Billy eventually said, pulling away.

"Well, I should get going. If you ever change your mind about the weed, you know where to find me, Hargrove. And Y/N... pretend that you didn't hear that." Eddie quickly said, already walking off towards his van.

You chuckled softly and Billy rolled his eyes, watching the other guy leave before he turned his attention back to you.

"Hopper was meant to pick me up. The Mustang is still kinda broken, remember?" You answered and Billy nodded as he glanced around and you knew he was looking for his sister. "I saw Max skate off with the other kids when she realised you weren't by the Camaro. I think they went to the arcade."

"Of course, she did." He sighed, rubbing his face with his hands. "Come on, I'll drive you home before I go and pick her up."

You nodded and followed Billy over to the Camaro, Iron Maiden still playing from his drive this morning as he reversed out the carpark before you gave him instructions on how to get to Hopper’s cabin.

The Mustang was parked out the front of the cabin after Hopper got it towed back from the junkyard, but it still didn't work and you didn't exactly have the money to fix it.

"I can take a look at her, if you want?" Billy offered, pulling the Camaro up beside your Mustang.

Wait, Billy knew how to fix cars?

"I know the basics. I do my own maintenance on the Camaro." He said as if he knew what you were thinking. "I can't guarantee that I'll be able to fix it, but I can take a look."

So, that's how you found yourself sitting on the porch steps while Billy leant over the hood of the Mustang working with the spare tools of Hoppers that you found in the cabin.

"How was school?" El asked, walking out the cabin and sitting down beside you.

"It was okay. I think I made a new friend." You admitted causing the girl to smile brightly.

"A friend like Billy?" She asked, innocently.

You shook your head, "no, not like Billy. Billy and I are... we're like you and Mike."

"He's your boyfriend?"

"Yeah."

"I like him."

That caused you to smile as you glanced down at El to find her watching Billy work on the Mustang curiously. You followed her line of sight and smiled too, but that smile quickly vanished when you saw the Police car pulling up behind the Camaro.

Shit.

You were on your feet in an instant, knowing that Hopper wouldn't be happy that you were still seeing Billy, let alone Billy being here at the cabin that nobody was meant to know the location of.

Billy stopped what he was doing when he heard the Chevy pull up and quickly lifted his head from under the hood and froze when he saw the Chief climbing out the other car.

"Hargrove-"

"Hopper." You quickly said, not giving him a chance to start yelling at Billy "He picked me up from school when you didn't show and offered to take a look at my car while he was here."

Hopper nodded, glancing over at you and El before looking over at Billy. A million different emotions washed over his face, but they passed before you could place any of them.

"Hargrove, go home." Hopper eventually ordered.

"Yes, sir."

He closed the hood of the Mustang before climbing into the Camaro and reversing out the long driveway. It wasn't until the Camaro was out of eyesight that Hopper turned back towards you.

"I told you-"

"To stay away from him. Yeah, I know, I ignored you perfectly fine the first twenty times you told me."

"Don't be mad. Billy is good." El quickly said, standing up beside you.

Hopper sighed, "El-"

"He is good. Like Mike."

"I don't care. What I do care about is my eldest daughter thinking it's okay to ignore my instructions. I have just about had it with your little rebel attitude." Hopper warned, staring at you with a stern expression.

"Like I give a shit."

"Don't fight." El said softly, looking up between the two of you with big brown eyes.

"We're not... we're not fighting. We're just talking. El, why don't you go inside? Y/N and I need to talk in private."

El bit her lip and stared at Hopper for a moment before glancing over at you and you realised that the girl was waiting for your permission to leave. She was willingly to ignore Hopper's instruction and stay with you if you wanted her too.

You smiled softly, "it's okay. Go inside, kiddo."

El nodded glancing over at Hopper one last time before she climbed up the steps of the porch and walked inside, leaving you standing with Hopper who seemed to be thinking heavily about what he wanted to say next.

"Look, I'm trying, Y/N, okay? I don't know what I'm meant to do here, this isn't easy for me."

"And you think this is easy for me?" You asked in disbelief. "My mother died. She died and suddenly I'm alone in New York trying to organise her funeral and then Child Services show up and threaten to take me into foster care if I don't move to Hawkins with you-"

"Shit, kid."

"-and then I finally find you in Hawkins and you don't even want me! I mean, of course you don't want me. You left me for a reason, so why would things be any different now, right? But, I don't have a choice, so I have to stay and live in this tiny cabin in the middle of nowhere with a father that hates me and a little girl who is apparently my new sister. And I love El, she's amazing, but she has superpowers and I find out about the Upside Down and I have to fight Demo-dogs and even after all of that, I'm still stuck with living with a father that doesn't want me and he thinks this easy for me?"

You were breathing heavily by the time you finished and you knew you were getting yourself worked up, but you couldn't seem to calm yourself down.

"This isn't easy for anyone and I don't hate you." Hopper eventually replied, but you just chuckled shaking your head. "Is this because I forgot to pick you up from school?"

"Oh, so you did forget about me?"

He sighed, "I'm sorry I didn't pick you up from school like I promised. I was busy, I got-"

"Held up at work? Yeah, I figured." You mumbled, folding your arms across your chest.

"Watch the attitude."

"You promised you'd pick me up. But, I sat there for over an hour and you didn't show. If Billy didn't take me home, I'd still be sitting at the school freezing my ass off waiting for you to show up."

"I was caught up at work-"

"How about you stop focusing on your job and be a dad? I mean, you go to work and leave El alone in this cabin for over eight hours a day. That's not right!" You snapped, glaring at him.

"Then what do you want me to do? I need to pay the bills to keep a roof over your ungrateful head and food on the table."

"What do I want you to do? I want you to just be a dad." You admitted softly, all the fight and anger leaving your voice.

"I'm not just a father. I'm the Chief of Police and you are not a child anymore." He replied sternly and you just smiled sadly and shook your head.

"I never was."

That was all you said before you walked up the stairs of the porch towards the front door. You were done with this conversation. You were done with everything.

"Hey, don't walk away!" Hopper shouted.

"You taught me how." You replied over your shoulder before slamming the cabin door closed behind you.

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#Billy Hargrove #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargove x reader #billy hargrove x y/n #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #dacre montgomery #steve harrington #jim hopper #eddie munson

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coffeewritesfiction · 7 months

Text

Betrayal

Whump + Cthulhu Mythos - 2.8k words

CW: mild (period typical) transphobia and misogyny, graphic descriptions of violence, blood and gore, eye horror (not gore), major character death

The men were gaining on them.

Outside thunder roared, but over it, Lazarus Core still heard the footsteps behind them, pounding louder than the rain. His pulse beat against the skin of his throat. Sweat slicked the hand holding his gun. It’d just take one mistake, one little mistake, and he’d be dead, dead, dead. And it wouldn’t be the end of the world, if he died, but the last thing he wanted was to leave Sadie all alone.

He gripped her hand and did not look back.

A sharp turn, a shout from behind. The men pursuing them seemed to have no trouble in the darkness. Lazarus did not look back, he kept running, and Sadie’s fingernails dug into his hands. If they could make it back outside, back to where they’d hidden the car, he could hide Sadie within it, and go back around to find Niel. And if he didn’t come back, well, maybe Niel did. And if Niel didn’t come back either…

Sadie twisted in his grip, grabbed him by the shoulder, jerked him free from his thoughts. Her hand slammed over his mouth, Lazarus blinking, the stack of wooden crates sturdy against his back. He followed her lead, crouching down, holding his breath.

The footsteps grew closer. Closer still. Away, away, mumbling voices silenced by the rain.

Lazarus looked around, squinting in the darkness. There, that door, still cracked open - He tapped her on the shoulder. She jerked her curly haired head towards him. In the darkness, she nodded.

Without a sound, the door opened. Lazarus looked behind them once more before stepping into that new darkness.

Not quite dark for long. A light flashed, Lazarus threw up an arm against it.

“Niel!” Sadie whispered.

Lazarus lowered his arm, the light lowered to the floor. Niel hugged Sadie back, the electric torch almost falling from his hand from the force of it. His smile soothed something in the private eye’s heart, tension falling from Lazarus’ shoulders.

“You sly dog,” Lazarus whispered, stepping up to clasp his friend’s hand. “And here I thought I’d have to track you down.”

Niel grinned, but the tension didn’t fade from around his eyes. He drew in a breath, and then another. Lazarus opened his mouth to speak, but did not have a chance to.

The other man carried a faraway scent of spices and flowers on his clothes. Lazarus breathed in as Niel’s arms wrapped around him in a tight, burdensome hug. Memories, faded like paper in the sun, drifted. Memories of home.

“Niel-” Lazarus pulled away.

“I’m sorry about all this, my friend,” Niel said, gripping Lazarus’s shoulders. “I know you won’t believe it, but I am. I’m so sorry.”

“What do you mean?” Lazarus said. Niel’s grip tightened. “Niel, none of this was your fault. You couldn’t have known O’Tipp would be here.”

Niel looked down, towards the golden pendant around his neck.

“Niel?” Lazarus repeated.

“That’s not it,” Niel said. “Not the thing I know you’ll hate me for.”

“Niel,” Sadie cut in. “What did you do?”

The door swung open. Lazarus turned, and raised a gun he no longer held. Something cold brushed against the back of his head, pressing through his dark red hair against his skull. His heart sank.

A dim lightbulb clicked on, illuminating the empty room. Nathan O’Tipp stood beneath the bare bulb, his smile stretched wide over his handsome face.

“Evening, gentlemen! And you as well, Miss Goode.” He tipped his hat to Sadie.

Sadie backed away, glaring behind her glasses. O’Tipp didn’t seem to notice, stepping towards her. The men behind him, three in all, followed into the room, staring at Lazarus, and his empty hands. They were all at least a head taller than him, maybe more, shoulders broader than his own, bigger, stronger, crueler. And O’Tipp just kept smiling as he took another step towards Sadie. But his eyes, they never looked away from Lazarus.

“Don’t hurt her,” Lazarus said.

O’Tipp laughed.

“Why, who do you think I am?” O’Tipp said. “Wouldn’t that be such a waste of a woman?” His men traded glances. “No, sir, I’m not going to lay a hand on her. I have better things in mind than that.”

Sadie swallowed. O’Tipp’s gloved hand wrapped around her upper arm, and held on tight.

The men said nothing. Lazarus closed his eyes.

“Niel,” Lazarus whispered, “Why?”

Behind him, Niel sighed.

“He’s got Mother,” Niel said.

“And even if I didn’t,” O’Tipp said, “I paid him quite handsomely for his help.”

Lazarus breathed in.

“You were spying on us,” he said at last.

“Don’t know what you expected to happen,” O’Tipp said. “You lead a man desperate for work to my speakeasy, and think he’ll stay on the straight and narrow? In Arkham, of all places?” His voice lowered. “You and I both know who really runs this town, Core. They put whoever they want into that mayor’s seat, but I’m the one who calls the shots around here.”

Niel said nothing.

“And Chambers, he did a damn good job, didn’t he?” O’Tipp said. “Made a best friend out of you, and your lady friend here. Didn’t make you think twice, did he, even though he worked for me, you idiot!” O’Tipp shook his head. “I don’t know why I’m surprised. Of course, you’d miss that. You were stupid enough to challenge me, weren’t you?”

With one hand, he gestured to the men. The one in the middle stepped forward. The other two hesitated.

“Mr. O’Tipp-” one of them started.

“It’s fine,” O’Tipp said.

“But you’re sure…” the man said. “I mean. He doesn’t look that much like a man.”

“It’s fine,” O’Tipp said. “It needs to be done. There’s no shoving this one into a brothel, and pretending it’ll all go away. Besides,” he looked into Lazarus’ eyes now. “He hasn’t been a woman for a long time now, has he?”

Lazarus clenched his fists.

There wasn’t anything to say, as the men circled him. Niel stepped back, closer to the far wall, clutching Lazarus’ gun in one hand and the pendant around his neck with the other. His lips moved, mumbling something Lazarus could scarcely catch over the thunder and the rain. Between the moving bodies Sadie stared at him, tears in her eyes.

There was so much to say, and no time at all. Lazarus could only hope she’d understand.

“Hope it doesn’t offend you much to say this,” O’Tipp said, “But you weren’t even the worst of the pests I’ve had to crush. You’re not even the most annoying. Insects like you come and go like the bugs you are. You’re just the latest in a very, very long line.”

Two brutal hands grasped Lazarus by the arms and yanked him back. He grunted, instinct kicking in, but all the struggling in the world wouldn’t get him out of this.

“Rest peacefully, Core - your lady friend is gonna be in better hands than yours ever were.”

One of the men stretched his fingers. Nathan looked towards the man by the wall.

“How about taking the first blow, Chambers?”

Lazarus looked towards the man he called a friend. Niel shook his head. He didn’t meet Lazarus’ eyes. Nathan shrugged.

“Suit yourself, kid.”

The fist burrowed into his cheek. Blood smeared on Lazarus’s tongue. His hat knocked to the ground, exposing his blood red hair. Another fist, the other cheek. His teeth rattled, his mind reeled. Another punch in the same spot, blood bursting from the bruise birthing on his skin.

Fist to the stomach, Lazarus gagged, choked on air. The tears flowed down against his will. One of the men hesitated. The other’s fist kissed his nose. Blood drooled over his lips, his chin. Lazarus gasped for air through his lips, before another blow landed on his mouth.

Sadie screamed his name.

Through the smack of fists on flesh and cartilage, the agony of another punch to the gut, a boot to the foot, a kick to the leg, a slam to the womb, Lazarus heard Niel pray.

Maybe it was his imagination, a hallucination drawn from the depths of his subconscious by pain and the acceptance of approaching death. How would Niel know those prayers from his homeland? But where else Lazarus could have dreamed them from, he couldn’t imagine - he’d only heard them spoken once, back then, as a child. His mind spun through pain, and the prayer, it was all he could focus on.

Sadie wept.

Nathan laughed.

Lazarus took every blow.

His blood coated the men’s hands, smearing on his cheeks, on the dark fabric of his suit. Every punch to the gut sent stars flashing over his vision. Something broke, Lazarus was sure something had broken, the stabbing pain shooting through his body as familiar as the prayers he swore fumbled out around him in Niel’s voice. One of the men spoke, taunting him, but Lazarus couldn’t focus on it. He didn’t hear anything but the blood in his ears, and over it, Niel.

Why Niel? Why not his mother? Why not the woman who actually taught him those prayers?

Was their god still listening?

A kick to the stomach, and the strength in his legs gave out. The man holding him released his arms. Lazarus dropped to the floor, blood and grit digging into his skin. A foot slammed into his back. If he’d had any more air in his lungs, he would’ve screamed. Something kicked his side, someone laughed above him. Shoe polish scent on his nose, residue on his tongue. His vision blurred with blood, tears, pain, acceptance.

Lazarus accepted it. Death did not come as a friend, but like a blanket, warm and soft on his pain-filled body. Every breath hurt, hurt his sides, hurt his chest, hurt his lungs, hurt his nose and mouth and eyes. His fingers twitched, nerves on fire. His body wanted to live. Shit, he did too. But it was all over now. Nothing would save him now.

“I’m going to kill you!” Sadie shouted.

“Course you are, sweetheart,” O’Tipp said. “Chambers, give me the gun.”

Sadie sobbed. Niel said nothing. Footsteps walked away from Lazarus’ fallen body. He set his aching jaw, shifted his arms to push him upright. Death approached, O’Tipp’s familiar steps coming closer, and closer, and closer.

Gloved fingers buried into Lazarus’ hair and pulled. Lazarus didn’t feel the pain this time. His wet eyes met O’Tipp’s. Lazarus exhaled through his broken, bloodsoaked lips.

The cold metal of the gun - Lazarus’ own gun - pressed against the soft underside of his chin. O’Tipp smiled, satisfaction playing on his lips, those eyes.

“Any last words, Lazarus?” O’Tipp said.

Lazarus blinked, swirled his tongue around in his mouth. His eyes narrowed.

The bloody spit hit the mark. Landed right in the bastard’s right eye. O’Tipp reeled, a hideous noise coming from his throat as he gripped his face. His hand covered his eye.

Lazarus smiled.

The fingers of O’Tipp’s hand spread open wide. Veins throbbed within the bloodstained white of O’Tipp’s eye. The iris, so close to Lazarus’s own color, trembled. From within the pinprick pupil, purple tendrils shot out, stretching out, coating the iris as O’Tipp shook. The iris split, another purple iris folding out from the first. And then another. Two more. In a breath the eye was full of them, purple irises, the faded red-white darkening to black. Black like a hollow within the skull, black like the void of space that lingered over the city. Black like something Lazarus had seen before.

O’Tipp blinked, he struggled to breathe. His eye, now solid gold.

O’Tipp blinked, panting slowing down. His eye, returned to gray.

O’Tipp blinked. O’Tipp breathed.

The syndicate’s leader stood, the gun held loose in his hand. He did not look away from Lazarus, not for a moment, his eyes, so human, so perfectly human, locked onto the fallen man. Lazarus met his gaze, his own eyes wide. He’d seen that, and they both knew it.

O’Tipp snapped his arm out, finger on the trigger.

The gunshot echoed. Sadie screamed.

Niel’s body dropped, dead before he ever hit the floor. Sightless eyes met Lazarus’s, blood and worse dragging down from the bullet hole in his forehead.

“You-” O’Tipp said. He trembled, the blood and spit dripped down his handsome face, that handsome face contorting with rage. “I’ll do something special for you after all, Lazarus Core. You think you know what it’s like to suffer now? You think you’re gonna die the hero? I won’t give you that satisfaction. I’ll drag you to somewhere worse than hell, you son of a bitch.”

O’Tipp’s shoulders shook. A laugh broke free from his body.

“I’ll show you the real reason you were born. And you’ll wish every last day of your life, you never crossed paths with me.”

His head snapped towards the men. “Get out. We’re leaving.”

Without looking at either of his enemies, O’Tipp turned on his heel and marched out of the room. The men looked between each other, clothes soaked with blood and fumbled over themselves to follow him.

As the footsteps vanished into the raging storm overhead, Lazarus stared at Niel. His body twitched, nerves still fighting against death, even though it’d long won. He closed his eyes, he breathed through his mouth.

He saw it so clearly. O’Tipp’s eye dividing, folding out into a thousand copies of itself, transforming into something impossible. Something horrible. Something Lazarus knew on sight, just like he’d been told.

You will know the enemy when you see him, someone once said. You will know them because they are not of the King.

“Lazarus!”

He opened his eyes, raised his head.

“Sadie,” he said, and reached his broken hand towards her. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

Sadie collapsed by his side, and wept.

The strength came back to his body eventually. With Sadie’s help, Lazarus guided his body back to his feet. O’Tipp should’ve let his men finish the job, but he’d been too eager to do it himself. The beating hurt, would hurt for weeks, but he was alive. Somehow, he was still alive.

“What happened?” Sadie said, as Lazarus limped forward. “Why did he - oh Niel… That piece of-” Her fists clenched so hard, they shook.

Lazarus sighed.

“My own fault,” he said, stepping towards the corpse. “He wasn’t wrong, about me being stupid. Stupidly kind.”

“What are you doing?” Sadie said.

“Saying goodbye,” Lazarus said.

Niel’s body, still warm, the breath still clinging to his lips as Lazarus slid his eyes closed. In the warm spring night, soon the body would be unbearable. Someone would report that gunshot, call the police, send them on the way. By then, he and Sadie would need to be gone. Niel would go to whoever wanted to claim him.

But there was something Lazarus needed to do first.

“Flesh is feeble, soul eternal… Rings of life, they ever circle…”

He’d seen the back of the pendant before, with the lesser Yellow Sign. Maybe, Niel had gone back there, back home, even before tonight. Had to get something like that somewhere, after all.

“Fair is the land where the cloud waves break, the twin suns sinking beneath the lake… Fairer still, our soul’s true fate… ”

It seemed only fair, to mumble the prayer he’d heard in what should’ve been his last moments. He needed to improvise a bit. It’d been a very long time, after all, since he’d learned these words. Since he and his mother walked the streets of their true home.

“No heaven awaits, all screams unheard… to die unheard, your last breath, here with me. Fate returns you, the lost now found… to live forever, called back by the shepard, there with him, in sweetest Carcosa.”

Lazarus breathed. Niel didn’t. And it hurt to acknowledge it, that old longing he’d never chased away. Why couldn’t he go home, too, as Niel did? When he died, he would not return to Carcosa, he knew this. But it ached, to know it. That some things were lost, and would never be found… and some lost things, were lost for a reason.

“Lazarus,” Sadie began, but he shook his head.

“Later,” Lazarus said.

He reached into the inner pocket of Niel’s jacket. Against the fading warmth of Niel’s body, he found the item, and slipped it free. Lazarus smiled, and it hurt. Niel’s little book of friends, all the contacts he had in the city, written down in Niel’s familiar handwriting. This would help them a lot more than it’d help Niel now.

With effort, Lazarus stood. The ground swayed. Sadie’s hand wrapped around his shoulder, and he breathed normal again.

“Let’s go,” Lazarus said. He looked down at the body, one last time. “Goodbye, Niel.”

“Goodbye,” Sadie said. “And good riddance.”

Outside, the rain fell and did not stop until morning.

Tag list, if you expressed interest in reading this, you've been added just for this story:

@real-fragments7 @moonluringfrost @jgmartin @yet-another-heathen

@slenders1ckn3ss @jacquesfindswritingandadvice @redacted-metallum @actualblanketgremlin @higgs-space @phantomnations @mushabumi @assistantdirector--janson @aldhidbah @sabtael @yourheartonfireblog @jade-island-lives @carnocus @cecuesta @darkhorse-javert @comicgoblinart @lizadomuch @minutiaewriter @angelsofprey @izzyspussy @passthebeat-blog-blog @dragonedged-if @andromedaexists @cyanide-latte @lillis-writes @suckerpunchfemale @late-to-the-fandom @eldritch-flower @cljordan-imperium @royal1asset-if @pineywitch @fragrant-stars @mynameis40and4 @starry-voids @wubsbian @divine-anarchy @elbritch-kit @tousled-birdmad-girl @ajdoesthings @pen-for-sword @darkersoul

#writeblr #writeblr community #whump writing #lovecraft mythos #cthulhu mythos #wip: psi #wip: enthralled

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sunriseverse · 5 months

Note

prompt request: pangzi pouring hot water on xiaoge's bare chest, revealing his tattoo, but in the GAYEST and most TENDER way you can manage it.

i am SO late filling this prompt but hopefully this is sufficiently gay and tender.

The thing about tombs is, the getting in is easy enough—oh, sure, there’s the requisite amounts of traps, awful things that would give those unaccustomed to this sort of life creeping, crawling nightmares—; it’s the getting out that’s the tricky bit. All those dukes and barons and what-have-you never much minded people coming in—rather, they have always been more concerned with making sure no one gets out with their funerary treasures in tow. There’s a reason why tombs are known to be full of corpses, and it’s not just the ones originally buried there. The Iron Triangle, though—they’re about as used to this as can be, all considered; when you spend the better part of your life in tombs—Pangzi and Xiaoge—or studying the notes of someone who did—Wu Xie—, you gain a sort of long-suffering acceptance for whatever bullshit they throw at you.

Which is why Pangzi is only complaining mildly as they make the last leg of the hike out of this place. “Don’t they know how to build a better tomb,” Pangzi says, trying to peel the muck and waterweeds drying uncomfortably on his skin off from an unfortunate run in with a pond, water beetles, and far too many bones on the bottom of it. “What, are all of the architects stuck in the fifteenth century? What sort of Yuan bullshit…”

“Yes,” Wu Xie deadpans. “It’s from the end of the Yuan period, didn’t you spend two days reading over my shoulder while I was researching?”

“Semantics,” Pangzi huffs. “Xiaoge, don’t you think there’s far more muck ponds in tombs than there should be?”

“Mn,” says Xiaoge, forging the path ahead. He, if it’s possible, is even dirtier than Wu Xie and Pangzi combined, probably because he got trapped beneath the two of them when they fell through the false floor, an event that had led to Pangzi, trying not to panic, as they fished around blindly to drag him to the surface. It’s not an experience he’s keen on repeating. His hair is slicked down against his skull, dull brown with mud, and his hoodie is probably beyond saving at this point. He’s taken off the strap that holds his sword, opting instead to hold the sheath in his hand. Out of them all, that sheath is probably the least affected—the black and gold is as lustrous as ever, unmarred by any crackling brown dried mud.

It’s unfortunate that they’re pretty far from the house, so they’ll have to make camp for the night once they get out, and continue along in the morning, but as luck will have it, it’s shading into summer, and when they breach the entrance—well, side entrance; the main entrance has locked itself up tight as a clam—, the air is almost balmy, a welcome change from the underground chill of the tomb. Wu Xie, who spent the past few days pouring over maps, confidently takes the lead and takes them to a small creek, where they set up camp, including a fire and a decent excuse for a meal made of dried, sealed food that had managed to escape the muck, some foraged greens, and a lucky rabbit. Once Wu Xie finishes his portion, he lets out a wispy sigh and says, “I’m going to sleep. Wake me up when we leave.”

“You’re going to sleep like that?” Pangzi says, gesturing at him—grey mud dried at the edges of his face where he hadn’t been able to wipe it off, his shirt crinkling and shedding grey matter as he moves, his hair, the faint wave of it lost as it clumps together.

Wu Xie raises a brow. “I’ll survive,” he says. “I can take a shower once we get back.” With that, he fishes out the—somewhat affected—bedroll from his pack and rolls it out far enough from the campfire so as to avoid the heat and brightness, and promptly turns on his side and goes to sleep. Pangzi meets Xiaoge’s gaze across the campfire where the other man is quietly finishing the last of his food, and can’t help the grin that tugs at the corners of his lips, mirrored in the way the corners of Xiaoge’s eyes gentle as they brush over the sleeping form of their third.

Xiaoge, though—Pangzi knows him well enough to recognise the slight stiffness in his motions, the lack of a wince where, in anyone else, there would be one. Xiaoge may not complain, but Pangzi knows he doesn’t enjoy being dirty like this. For a moment, he considers just dragging Xiaoge into the creek, washing off together, before he catches sight of the pot over the fire again and has a better idea.

He washes the pot and the bowls under Xiaoge’s patient gaze, and then himself. When he brings the pot back to the fire, full of water, Xiaoge tilts his head in silent question. “You can’t keep walking around like that,” Pangzi tells him, and gently tugs at the hoodie half glued to his frame. “The top, at least—I’m not going to make you walk around without any pants.”

“No,” Xiaoge says, and there’s mirth in his tone. “Not that far.”

“Aiyah, Xiaoge’r!” Pangzi scolds, hitting his shoulder gently. “Quit running your mouth and take off your clothes.”

In the end, though, rather than Xiaoge taking off his clothes, Pangzi winds up doing it for him—half because of the way the clothes stick to Xiaoge’s skin too much for him to easily get them off, half because—well, sue him, he likes having his hands on Xiaoge in gentle, mundane ways like this. The zipper goes, and Pangzi gently slides the hoodie off his shoulders, then his arms, then helps him get his undershirt off as well, the grey of it almost disguising how dirty it is. Once he gets to skin, it’s to find that not even the clothes have managed to save Xiaoge, and he lets out a quiet sigh. “Aiya,” he murmurs, and reaches to dip one of the bowls into the pot of water and gently pours it over Xiaoge’s shoulder, gently scrubbing at his skin with his fingertips to get rid of the filth. Xiaoge stays remarkably still, head bowed, and beneath his fingers, Xiaoge’s skin slowly heats.

It doesn’t take long for Xiaoge’s tattoo to begin to show up, and Pangzi can’t help the way his fingers hesitate to touch it. To his surprise, though, Xiaoge’s hand comes up to gently press his hand to the skin, and Pangzi can’t help but shiver slightly at the intimacy. The time it takes to fully clean the dried muck off of him isn’t long, but it feels like a small eternity—breath caught in his throat, heart pounding beneath the cage of his ribs, hard enough that he’s half convinced Xiaoge can hear it. When the water runs out, Xiaoge’s skin washed clean, he can’t help but gently draw his fingers across the lines of the qilin, feel the gentle beat of Xiaoge’s heart beneath his skin. Without thinking about it, he duck his head and presses a kiss in the wake of his touch.

For a moment, Xiaoge tenses beneath the touch, and he almost thinks he’d misread the atmosphere, before Xiaoge lets out an almost imperceptible sigh, body relaxing, and Pangzi can’t help but smile against his skin.

It doesn’t go far; they’re both tired, and the woods are no place for any sort of intense activities, but when he raises his head, Xiaoge meets his gaze with dark, luminous eyes full of a fond heat, and Pangzi can’t help but reach out to cradle his jaw, kiss his cheeks, his nose, his lips. Xiaoge’s fingers bury themselves in his hair for just long enough for them to exchange lazy, unhurried kisses—Xiaoge’s lips soft, his mouth warm, head tilted so they fit together, nose pressing against Pangzi’s cheek. When he draws back, they just stay like that for a few, long moments, before a yawn cracks Pangzi’s jaw. “Bed,” Xiaoge says, decisive, and Pangzi can’t help but smile as he allows himself to be herded across camp, the fire put out and the bedrolls unrolled next to Wu Xie’s, the last memory before sleep that of his lovers on either side of him.

#dmbj #wang pangzi #zhang qiling #wu xie #pingpangxie #fanfic #spinecorset writes #ask #c.txt

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springsmile · 2 years

Text

removing the cancer

18+ | t. kuroo

descr: (how yandere kuroo deals with your overbearing mother) years of abuse from your overbearing, cancerous mother has transformed you into a feeble version of yourself & kuroo decides to take action.

warnings: parental death, murder, body shaming, emotional neglect from parent, kidnapping, mentions of suicide and self harm. (none of which is explicit or graphic, besides body shaming/neglect.)

how many times had he plucked you from your ball on the ground, a heap of tears, racked by waves of hysteria and betrayal, and cradled you back to security? had he kissed you, reaffirmed everything you needed to hear, and begged you not to return home?

its becoming clearer and clearer to kuroo that it’s not a matter of when but how.

how would he uncoil the roots of a possessive mother’s hold, tightening around your neck and yielding all oxygen flow, all room for movement and thought and choices? once he eliminated the cancer, then he could consider how to inject himself into your line of vision, of decision, of every thought and worry under the sun. when would you worry about what to make for dinner, and if kuroo was coming home late that day?

even now you’re panicked, teary eyed because you’re late to the family function, some crude fucking dinner with white claws leaving lightened rings on the polished wood tables, corn hole being set up on the opposing sides of the living area, and the incessant chatter and one-upping that he could tolerate, but he knew you couldn’t stomach.

“this is gonna be a shit show.” he’d huffed, inspecting your features closely from the corner of his eye. you’re the absolute opposite of elated, in its most extreme form. would that be dread? you’re dreading seeing your family, being trapped with them for an extended period of time. kuroo reaches for your hand.

“hey, it’s gonna be fine, babe. you know there’ll be a couple of jerky, offhanded comments but i’ll fend them off. no problem. i don’t have to worry about them not liking me.” he states, hoping to quell that troubled expression. he fails to address the growing concern, as bile bubbles in the pit of your stomach.

“it’s not them, tetsu, you know how my mom is. she likes my cousins more than me, and now that we’re late, she’s going to somehow manage to relate it to my worth as a human being.” your face crumbles, make-up creasing at the corners of your eyes, and your hands tremble. kuroo scowls.

“let’s ditch it then. fuck your mom. i’m sick of her treating you like this. she has no fucking right to tell you how you should be spending your money, how you should be dressing, what you should eat, how you should look— it’s bullshit, Y/n, and you know it.”

of course you knew it was bullshit, and yes, you knew it wasn’t true. but how are you to abandon your parent, the person you depended on for survival for the first integral years of your life? while she hurt you more than she helped you, you still loved your mother. her word is not truth, but it’s hard to accept it as anything else. there’s always a method to her madness, and if she sees you one way, who’s to say she’s wrong? maybe you were too chunky, maybe you did eat too much, and maybe the job you were working was a waste of time. and maybe you didn’t spend your money too responsibly. it was something to consider. your mother loves you, after all.

“i know she loves me. she just… has a tough way of showing it. she’s just concerned, that’s all.” you tell him, a weak smile on your lips as you push the car door open. kuroo grits his teeth, irritated as hell, because he can never, ever fucking win against your mother. the power you give that woman is astonishing.

as soon as you’re through the front door, your older cousin is shoving a can of hard seltzer in your hand. it’s already cracked open and slick. you take a sip, and ask where your mom is. she motions to the kitchen.

kuroo is quick to rejoin you by your side, idle conversation with your materialistic family was not something he preferred to engage in, and he’d much rather nip a breakdown following a conversation with your mother in the bud than exchange pleasantries.

“hi mom.” you greet feebly, watching her back as she pushes a glass pan into the oven. she throws her mitts off, and spins around to face you with an aggravated expression.

“christ, y/n, you knew i needed help in the kitchen. you couldn’t bother coming a little earlier to help me out? i can’t ever fucking rely on you, you’re too damn lazy.”

kuroo watches you visibly deflate, curling into yourself instinctively, taking the blow with heavy resignation. “i’m so sorry, mom, i didn’t want tetsurou to speed through the traffic. i didn’t mean to, but i promise, i’m here to help you now. what can i do?”

she scoffs, effectively ignoring you as she returns to the cutting board on the counter, removing the stem from bell pepper laying atop it.

kuroo is already sick of it, sick of the breakdown he would have to deescalate later, no thanks to your deadbeat, piece of shit mother, and sick of how quickly you accepted defeat.

“well hello to you, too, y/m/n.” kuroo gets in, your mother simply grunts at him in response. kuroo’s eye twitches, but for the sake of your happiness, he keeps his mouth shut.

you try to resurrect whatever mood had illuminated the kitchen before, examining the contents of the bowl next to the stove and observing it needed to be mixed. as soon as it’s in your hands, it’s ripped away from your grip, your smug mother is eager to tell you,

“quit being such a pig. you can have one serving like everyone else when i’m done. just go sit down and try not to eat all of the appetizers.”

you want to cry, so so badly. you wished you were shocked, you wished that you hadn’t been expecting this, that this was out of the ordinary, and that it hurt so much lesser than it did. you wear your emotions so immensely on your face, and kuroo barely manages to keep it together.

“oh shit, babe, i forgot how bad of a cook your mom is. let’s go grab something else to eat. go say goodbye to your family, alright?” he tells you, the smile on his lips is tight with rusted hinges, creamy ripples in the corners.

your family was trailer trash, he knew that. they were self-absorbed, petty, and materialistic—everything that you were not. within that frame of time, he decides that you weren’t going to be around that anymore for your own good, and he knew you probably wouldn’t be happy with it at first, but you’d come to realize that it was better this way soon enough.

kuroo was going to perform surgery.

it’s when you come home from an exhausting day of work, and you want nothing more than to be held in the strong arms of your boyfriend when you get the news: mom was dead. murdered, and brutally at that.

you’re not tearful. in fact, you feel nothing at all. there’s no dread, no sorrow, no relief. there’s nothing to process, and yet kuroo regards you carefully, cupping your face gingerly as he wipes nonexistent tear tracks from under your eyes.

“how are you feeling, princess?”

before, you’d noticed kuroo was a little more high strung than usual, more alert. you attributed it to anxiousness, having to deal with the explosive aftermath of the discovery, the realization and your shock, but you could also recognize that kuroo wasn’t all there. he was watching you attentively, genuine concern was evident, but he was fervent.

he continues to speak, despite your silence, “that old bitch had it coming, baby. one of these days, she was going to drop dead from her last cigarette, or someone was going to get her. it was inevitable.”

was it? she seemed lively enough the weekend prior. alive and well enough to tell you how much of a pig you are and how disappointing you were. you always neglect to acknowledge that side of her, the facade, the front of charisma that had others insisting that she must be a great mother; that you were lucky. you can’t imagine who wanted to hurt her…

“and, now that she’s gone, y/n, i think we should consider moving to the town over—“

“tetsu, no. no. i… i need to stay here. with my family, with my…” your saliva is thick, like honey, in the back of your throat, “mom. i want to stay here with my mom. i can’t leave her.”

his chest rumbles beneath you as he groans, the vibrations shook your core, “i was hopin’ you wouldn’t say that.”

how many times had he held you so closely following a nasty argument with your mom? when she shamed you for going up a size? how often was he the only ally in your corner?

he couldn’t understand what evoked this reaction; as your primary caretaker, he expected more trust from you. less fear, less anger, and certainly less crying.

the house is so cute, so you. it’s conveniently remote, tucked into a generously distanced suburban neighborhood. the houses aren’t on top of each other, and the grocery store is a good 20 minute drive. he furnished the house to mirror what he understood you liked, so why were you so unhappy?

you’re situated on the edge of the bed, it’s king sized, plush, and aesthetically pleasing. but you’re pissed. scowling, the cuff grating the skin on your ankle shrinks beneath the heat of your glare.

“this is fucking crazy. you’re fucking crazy.” you’re saying, too sick and too bemused to look him in the eye. he can’t stand it.

“yeah, i’m crazy. i’m the one who defends the person who has driven them to the point of near suicide and self harm and extreme depression, that i literally cannot function without support.” he spits. he was leant against the doorframe, observing for signs of life or perhaps forgiveness and resignation. he was met with neither. just that same pathetic anger, unmatched and unrivaled by his strength.

you falter at his words, and he smirks. he could dismantle any and all arguments you posed with an apathetic definitiveness, and it made the hair on your arms stand, and your heart fall.

“tetsurou, i don’t want to be here. i wanted to stay by my family. it doesn’t matter how badly they’ve treated me, and i fucking know the bad outweighs the good, but i… i just can’t. i can’t leave them behind. i don’t want to cut them out, they’re all i have. they’re my family.” you’re tearful, pleading, but you’ve gotten thus far without any retreat from kuroo. and that spoke volumes—this was the way it was going to be. you just couldn’t accept it.

in the midst of your plea, he had gritted his teeth and stalked toward you. his hand, rough and firm, grips your chin, guiding it upward. your eyes meet his.

he’s pained slightly, but his eyes are more stoney and unwavering than all else. he is eternally unyielding, and it’s painful.

“i’m your family, y/n.” he says.

“you’re right.” you concede. “you are my family, well, you’re like them, anyway. you’re making my decisions for me, you’re hurting me, and you don’t care. you rationalize it with a smile and some bullshit apology, some crap you tell yourself and you think i’ll just accept. but this? this is wrong. this is not love. i’m your prisoner.”

“jesus christ!” he swears, bringing his hand to his head to seize a fistful of hair. “everything i do, everything i’ve done, it’s been for you! i fucking love you, y/n. i would kill for you.”

oh. “kill?”

you fall back onto the bed, sickly. the soft cotton prickles your skin, and the pale ceiling, smoothed to perfection, is spinning in taunting circles before your eyes.

“y/n?”

kill, he’d kill for you. kill. kill. kill.

your ankle is bolstered to the floor, you’re fucking helpless. before you stands the master of your fate, the shaper of your past, the fucking killer of your mother. he’s the warden, and yet he is also the doting boyfriend.

you lick your lips. you could work with that.

#yandere kuroo #yandere haikyuu #haikyuu #kuroo x y/n #kuroo x reader #kuroo x you #yandere x reader #yandere #kuroo tetsurō #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo tetsuro fanfiction #kuroo tetsuro x you #haikyuu!!

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lieutenant-speirs · 1 year

Note

For the valentine’s prompts, only if you don’t have too many already and only if you have the time/want to - and no worries if you don’t :)

21. “I’ve been trying to get ready for like an hour and a half, because I know you’re going to look so good and I need to try and match up.” With Joe Toye x Reader. Maybe where they’ve been real close friends for a long time - heavy mutual pining and one of them just can’t hold it in anymore.. Thank you 💛

“𝐴𝑟𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑚𝑒? 𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑘….𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑘….” “𝐴𝑡𝑟𝑜𝑐𝑖𝑜𝑢𝑠? 𝑆𝑖𝑙𝑙𝑦? 𝐿𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑎 𝑤𝑜𝑚𝑎𝑛 𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑢𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑑?” “𝑊𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑠ℎ𝑢𝑡 𝑢𝑝….?”

𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏: 𝐽𝑜𝑒 𝑇𝑜𝑦𝑒 𝑥 𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄: 𝑃𝑙𝑎𝑡𝑜𝑛𝑖𝑐/𝑅𝑜𝑚𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑐 𝐹𝑙𝑢𝑓𝑓 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓: Valentines Day | Valentines Platonic Joe was a long way from frayed and stained army greens and browns as he was waiting in the living room, dressed in formal black pants, plain button up and suit jacket to match. Hair slicked back into a neat style since he had grown it out a bit, getting a feel for his own style since being stateside.

Flicking his wrists to readjust he cuffs more comfortable, he sighed as his eye caught the time on is watch. His head turned towards the stairs that lead to the upstairs rooms, “Come on Y/N!”

Joe had met you a few months before he went to war. You moved in next door and the rest was history. However, your first interaction, outside a friendly wave, had been when you were stubbornly trying to carry all the shopping bags in one go…and of course one bag broke and the rest fell out of your arms like dominos. Joe, being who he was, came running over - while laughing - but still offered to help. He helped carry your groceries inside, maneouvering between packed boxes that are waiting to be sorted into their designated rooms. To which, he also offered to help move them upstairs for you. From there… the friendship just…clicked. You two were never short of a conversation, always making the other laugh… everything just felt… natural.

And then the war broke out… Joe showed up at yours in his uniform to state that he’s leaving soon. Your heart dropped and it visibly showed on your features. That’s when you both promised to write.

And that’s exactly what you did. Both of you slowing falling for the other through years of correspondence. Both of you open and vulnerable in your letters because noone else was reading them and there was just that comfortableness in friendship that you could express your inner thoughts and feelings without judgement. Him too.

There was a period where you weren’t getting letters and then you finally received one from a hospital. It was shorter than normal but Joe didn’t have the strength to write lengthy letters while recuperating from having lost his leg. Your heart broke but was also relieved that he was just alive. That’s all you ever prayed for…

You heard Joe’s voice call out and huffed in annoyance; either at him or yourself, you weren’t sure, as you stared at yourself in the full-length mirror. You weren’t happy with your outfit. Three other dresses lay haphazardly on the bed and the chair as you had tried those on and deemed them not suitable enough. Joe technically wasn’t yours to worry about looking decent beside him, but he was your everything. Which was what made today, of all days..harder to choose with the outfit. It was Valentines. A day for couples. You two aren’t a couple. You’re just going along for the joy ride because you both don’t have official plans anyway.

Your makeup made your features look softer than what your expression is letting on, your hair done up but, just like the dress, you weren’t satisfied with the result. “I’ve been trying to get ready for, like, an house and a half! Because I know you’re going to look good and I need to try and match up!” you called back down.

Joe’s now frowning up at the stairs, not having heard anything more ridiculous in his life. “Will you just come down? We’re going to be late. Whatever you wear is gonna be fine.”

You rolled your eyes as Joe’s annoyed voice filtered through. Men just didn’t understand. To you, Joe was one of the most handsome people you ever met… His brown eyes twinkled when he laughed, they darkened when he was angry (and you won’t admit this, but you find it hot), he had the most gorgeous smile, his eyebrows were expressive and made his features soft when they knitted together in concern when you would talk to him about certain things. So, of course whatever he wears will just accentuate his handsome features and you’ll end up looking like ‘plain jane’ next to him. He was deserving more of that. Especially with you two going out on, what’s supposed to be a couples-only celebration.

You scoffed at your appearance before finally doing as requested and making your way down the stairs to see Joe fiddling with the cufflinks, his crutches resting under his arms against his side. Brown eyes finally looked up as he heard one particular stair creak beneath your step and his face went blank. You didn’t realise you held your breath as you all but floated down the stairs (he thought you floated like an angel, you thought you clunked down like a not-so-graceful rhino).

Using his crutches, he made his way over to you just as you reached the last step and stood in front of him. His features gave nothing away. His lips were parted, his brown eyes just staring at the ghastly get up that you’re in. “I’ll never look nice compared to you.” the heartbreak was evident in the disappointment in your voice. You turned on your heel and was about to make your way back upstairs when a tight grip on your wrist stopped you in your tracks.

Joe still didn’t know his own strength at times, whilst he wasn’t hurting you, it still surprised you what this man might be capable of with just his bare hands. “Are you shitting me? You look….you look….” “Atrocious? Silly? Like a woman menstruated?” “Will you shut up….?” His voice, not at all harsh, but soft and exasperated. You just weren’t getting it. He was at a loss of words. His facial expressions… well… He’s Joe. He’s not the best with the ladies unless he’s wooing them for sex. Which is something he wouldn’t dream about doing with you. He respects you too much. His voice softened and a hushed, “You look beautiful, Y/N.” filtered past his lips, as though he were afraid it was inappropriate to say and some unforgiving Godly figure might smite him a second time causing him to loose the only other leg he has.

His eyes gazed over you, up and down, drinking your entire being in. “Anything you wear, you look radiant in. I don’t understand -” “Because it’s you, Joe. You’re the handsome one. The funny one. The charismatic one. And I’m just… me.” I’ll never be good enough for you Went unspoken on your red-painted lips.

But it felt heavy in the air that it made Joe snap. He had enough of dancing around this, he had enough of waiting, and he was too impatient to tell you over dinner how he was feeling about you. Hobbling forward a step or two. He hooked a finger beneath your chin and lifted your head up. “You…are one of the most beautiful broa-ladies, I’ve ever met. No matter what you wear, you’ll look drop dead gorgeous. I think you look gorgeous… I always have…”

Without asking permission, Joe dropped his head and his lips pressed against yours. He felt the small gasp part from your lips before pressing his lips more firmly against yours. One hand one the end of the stair rail to steady himself, the other hand lighty resting against your cheek…which now dropped to wrapping around the middle of your back and pressing you firmly against him. Your own arms snaked around his neck, as your lips melted against him.

He had already mentioned you two were pushing for time… but now… neither of you could care less.

You were happy that he was finally yours. Officially.

#They were neighbors to friends to lovers #Hope this was okay #I've never picked up Joe Toye as a writing muse before #I would have posted yesterday but I forgot he lost a leg #Please don't ask how I forgot #and I mentioned stairs #and I was like 'well that's not gonna work'#I completely disregarded they were pining friends before too #So a few added paragraphs helped cleared that up #Hopefully #I don't know #But it's totally okay if you don't like it and it's not at all what you were expecting #Joe Toye x Reader #Joe Toye #Band of Brothers x Reader #Joe Toye Valentines Date

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lerikwrites · 6 months

Text

Should

[Back at it again with the angsty one-shots of trans Wild. Similar tw's apply: dysphoria, periods, internalized transphobia, ONE LINE describing some past gore/severe injury (everyone is fine), misgendering]

“Hyrule, how exactly does your healing work?”

“Oh! You scared me, Wild,” Hyrule perks up from his shady spot beneath the cedar trees, “You’re so quiet sometimes.” He puts down the sweetgrass he was braiding, holds out his hands, and considers them while he thinks over the question. “It’s kind of like,” he wiggles his fingers and takes a second to think about how the magic feels when it passes from his hands and through the body of another, “I think it just puts things back how they should be.”

“How they should be?” Wild’s voice is tight. Hyrule notes again how quiet and still Wild is, not fiddling with one thing or another how he tends to when a new idea pops into his head.

“Yeah. I think that’s why it leads to minimal scarring compared to standard healing and certain weaker potions.” Hyrule gestures towards Wild’s torso. “That’s how come you don’t have a new line at your waist from that fight a few weeks ago. And your insides are back…inside.”

“Right,” they both grimaced at the memory. Another near-death to add to Wild’s growing list of terrible nightmares. Healing fixes the physical problem, but it cannot take away the memory of slick viscera slipping through Wild’s fingers as he tried to simply shove it back in. He had finally stopped when shock jackknifing through his system made his hands shake too much and his vision blur around the edges. At least he didn’t remember much after that. Hyrule didn’t have that luxury. The traumatic wound in question is Wild’s current running theory for how the Old Problem has reared its ugly head once again. However, instead of feeling accomplished in solving the riddle, Wild is stuck on a single word from Hyrule’s explanation: should.

“Alright. Thank you,” Wild abruptly pulls himself away before any other thoughts come bubbling up from his brain and out through his mouth. Hyrule lets out a questioning hum but doesn’t try to pull him back. As Wild stalks away with his shoulders hiked up to his ears Hyrule stares after him and frowns. Odd for the champion to be so tight-lipped again. Usually once one question comes up, the following questions come so quickly Wild could even give the group chatterbox, Wind, a run for his money. It was a shock at first to hear the champion speak so much all at once, but the group did their best to encourage the new communication. When they first found Wild he had been quiet and guarded. Often preferring signing and few stilted words when his hands were otherwise occupied. He had since opened up and let his oddities blend into the general chaos of the group. Wild’s current behaviour was unusual and worrying.

Wild walks in a straight line through the trees away from where Hyrule was sat, not far enough to get lost but enough to feel a sense of privacy. His thoughts are whirring and whipping through his mind adding to his growing headache. He pulls out his hair tie and tugs his fingers through the strands in an attempt to lessen the pressure in his skull. It doesn’t and the realization of why makes it worse. Headaches were another wretched thing to contend with when the Old Problem rolled in. Once during training it had gotten so bad he was sent to a medic. The well-intentioned gentlemen had suggested blood-letting and Wild couldn’t even begin to explain the irony of the treatment before stomping off to go back to sparring. Wild rolls his eyes and kicks a rock out of his way. Hyrule’s cheerful explanation of his own healing snakes its way back into his head. The word “should” winds itself into coils and constricts his thoughts into a heavy weight behind his eyes. If the world was how it “should” be then everything would be fine. He should have been born a boy. At the very least he should have been a grateful daughter. He should have been happy with everything Hylia blessed him with. A loving family, a comfortable childhood, and a strong body with a resilient mind. He should have been the one to take over his family’s property and provide for his parents instead of joining the Royal Guard with a false identity. He should have been a better soldier and kept it together when suspicion and rumors threatened to undo everything he had worked so hard for. He should have been able to support the Princess while she was learning how to unlock her powers instead of falling to a Guardian in Blatchery Plain. He certainly should not have failed the one thing Hylia put him on this path to do. If it even was his path. Maybe in his greed to want something other than the life he was given, he threw off the Goddess’ plans and was now forced to bear the burdens of a real champion, now lost to history. Instead, he was an imposter. A woman trying too hard to be something she’s not, and now being dragged onto yet another quest doomed to fail the moment the other heroes find out the truth.

“Augh!” he growls as an exposed root catches his boot and sends him tumbling face-first into the dirt and musty leaves of the forest floor. Wild huffs and rolls over to squint at the sunlight coming through the leaves in the trees above him. Getting lost in what should have been has never served him before and it certainly isn’t now. Gently he presses the heels of his palms against his closed eyes and breathes in deep. A tear rolling off the side of his cheek falls into his ear and he grimaces at the wet sensation. The rot of the damp leaves below him fills his nose and grounds him. He takes in another deep breath and stays still to catalogue the other scents and sounds around him. Legend had taught him that technique after a panic attack left him in a state of overwhelm a few months back. Despite their quirks and short spats, the other heroes always had the best intentions towards each other. The thought makes Wild feel guilty again. Hyrule didn’t mean anything by it and he knows. The word that has chased Wild and nipped at his heels since childhood is not something he can hold against the healer. Nobody knows his secret, and it’ll have to stay that way.

#lu fanfiction #linked universe #trans link #lu wild #tw dysphoria #tw misgendering #tw internalized transphobia #lerikwrites #tw gore #tw body horror #tw periods #uhhh i hope thats all of them but let me know if anything else needs tagging

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blukrown · 1 year

Text

Red with Comfort - Konig x Horangi

Horangi just started his period and Konig is ready to provide whatever comfort Horangi needs

Or read on AO3

CONTAINS: period sex, trans & bottom! horangi, top! konig

Konig had been stuck in briefings all day. In discussions for a future mission, knowing full well half the plans will be out of the window as they land. War being far too unpredictable a thing. It was all a bit dull for Konig, who felt a burst of energy as soon as he knew he could leave.

Now with his newly attained freedom, Konig knew just where to go. He went searching for Horangi.

But Horangi was not in the shooting range. Or the mess. Or the rec room. Or the gym. Not even the medbay.

Konig was starting to grow concerned when he finally found a sign of hope when he ran into his compatriot Oni. He did not care if he appeared like a lovesick puppy as he asked where Horangi was and Oni did not seem to notice or care, merely answering;

“He’s been holed up in his quarters, haven’t seen him all day.”

Konig gave hurried thanks before he made quick work of walking to Horangi’s room, his large gait following a ever familiar path. Once outside, Konig knocked.

With some relief, Horangi answered.

Konig could immediately tell he was not looking well. His skin was plaid and his eyes were darkened with shadows beneath. His black hair was a desheveled mess, as if just getting out of bad. Even the way he stood connoted a sense of discomfort, his shoulders hunched and an arm half crossed over his middrift as if protecting it.

“Are you ok?” Konig asked immediately, skipping over pleasantries.

“I’m fine, just started my period so I’m a little off at the moment.”

“Cramping?”

“Yeah, that and muscle pain in general.” He then let out a strained breath as he rolled one of his shoulders.

Konig felt a great sense of sympathy for him, having seen Horangi go through this a few times before. He knew it to be a unpleasant and discomforting experience. Usually Konig offered him what sweets he could scavenge and offer him comfort if he wanted it.

After a thought, Konig asked. “Can I go down on you?”

Horangi immediately blanched, “W-What? No -Why??”

“Because it would make you feel good,” Konig found himself explaining, recalling what information he had researched since Horangi’s last period. Having seen him in such duress, he had wanted to find any more solutions to help. “I’ve read that orgasm help with symptoms, like the cramps.”

“Y-You’ve read up on periods?” Horangi stuttered in shock, his body managing to bring blood to his cheeks in a faint blush.

“Of course! I wanted to make sure I could look after you properly.”

“As endearing and cute as that is . . .” Horangi started cautiously, leaning a little on the door frame. “Are you sure? It’s pretty gross, don’t you think?”

Konig immediately disagreed, “I don’t think it’s gross, it’s natural.”

“But . . . But it’s messy.”

“I wouldn’t mind, I’ll get a towel.” Konig then paused, thinking that perhaps Horangi’s reluctance was a sign of disinterest. “Are you not in the mood for this? Because if so, we don’t have to. We could just cuddle.” Konig honestly, truly only wanted to be near Horangi, in what ever way he would allow.

Horangi appeared to ponder it, his brows pinching in a charming frown that Konig could not help but look fondly over. He seemed to be torn, fighting between two answers. But he did not take long to make up his mind.

“Maybe we could try?” Horangi offered, still looking a bit cautious.

“Sure!” Konig said brightly with a smile. “And you can always tell me to stop.”

. . .

Horangi sat on his back on his bed, pillows protecting his tender head and still dressed in his warm KorTac hoodie with his tracksuit pants and boxers long forgotten. A towel was tucked under him, protecting the sheets below from slick and blood. Konig, still fully dressed, was between his legs, kneeling at the end of the bed and feasting on Horangi’s cunt.

His tongue was, at the moment, lapping up from entrance to twitching cock. Tasting slick and blood and not flinching as the taste of iron burst on his taste buds. Konig’s tongue then pointed and pressed to Horangi’s budding of nerves. Making a weak whimper come out with a relieving breath.

Even with going through a cold shiver as Konig had arrived, Horangi was growing hot as pleasure and arousal steamed his blood and brain. His mouth open, ready to despence hedonistic breaths or encouraging moans. The legs of his muscles were too weak to even attempt to close around Konig’s head, unashamedly splayed open on either side with Konig’s large hands holding steadily at the sides of his stomach.

Konig’s tongue lazily lapped and sucked at Horangi’s Tdick, eyes closed and almost blissful, the sighs and soft grunts from Horangi being just what he needed after a long day of dreariness. Knowing that he very well could make Horangi cum eventually just like this alone, he wanted to give him more.

One of his hands left from Horangi’s side to return to him, pulling his now wet and rather red dyed lower face for a moment as he carefully pressed his index finger inside.

Horangi’s muscles stiffened but no complaint was uttered, Horangi gladly taking all that Konig gave gratefully. Too worn and tired from fighting the routine war with his body, far too much in need of something pleasureful.

Konig’s lips and tongue returned to Horangi’s engorged cock as his finger began to work its way in and out. Long and larger than average, it had no trouble curling and finding just that perfect spot to make Horangi keen. Horangi, growing self conscious from the sounds, bit into the collar of his hood. Teeth clenching on fabric to ensure he minimised the noises coming from him.

Konig thought to complain, wishing to hear each positive, beautiful sound as clearly as possible but then soon thought of it as a challenge. He would just make Horangi let go.

The pace of his finger quickened and was soon joined by another inside him, forcing Horangi’s nose to flare and his eyebrows to furrow into a deepset frown. He looked so focused, or at least trying to be, attempting to keep some semblance of thought and restraint even as wave upon wave of bliss threatened to keel him over.

Horangi was visibly losing the fight,however. The cloth in his mouth damp and held on slimmly with teeth alone. His forehead glistening from sweat and eyes growing misty eyed with pleasure. His brow soon weakening as his head leaned further back on the cushions.

Konig could see Horangi was getting close, so close. His hips were fidgeting a little, twitching with each curl of his fingers. Insides squeezing intermittently and reacting to each movement of his digits. Even his cock twitched around his lips, soon growing overstimulated.

All of this happening whilst Konig was amidst the red of Horangi’s period, unafraid and unbothered as even his nose soon painted itself. The sight of Konig’s indifferent nature, showing just as much enjoyment as any other time he had between Horangi’s legs, was one of the few things that soon had Horangi tipping over the edge.

The fabric of his hoodie falling away from his mouth as he gasped and moaned and gasped and whined until- Horangi’s body stiffened just for a slim moment, all pain and weight lifting as his orgasm hit like a hot tidal wave over him. Letting out a final deep breath as he sagged on the bed, limp and breathing heavily.

Konig was satisfied, smile visible as he stood up from his weakened knees. His own cock hard but happily ignored to focus on Horangi’s pleasure. Konig climbed on the bed, only to be stopped by a weak but stern hand.

“Don’t come near me before you wipe your face,” Horangi managed to say through heaving breaths.

Konig only let out a small laugh, quickly obeying before reuniting on the bed. Ready to just cuddle, Horangi seemed to have more than enough energy to notice Konig’s situation and smile.

“I haven’t been penetrated on my period either, you know?”

Konig gladly took the subtle invitation, thankful he had had the foresight to get several towel.

Horangi asked to change positions, wanting to lay his face head down amongst the pillows whilst on his stomach and zone out as Konig fucked him. He found the change in posture helpful, easing the ache in his neck and the cramping in his abdomen that had now dulled since he came.

Konig was quick and accommodating, replacing the towel under Horangi to a clean one before stripping his lower half of clothes so he mirrored Horangi in only wearing a shirt. Returning to the bed, Konig quietly urged Horangi to push up on his knees. Well aware of Horangi’s lack of strength, he only wished some corporation as he knew it would be harder to continue with Horangi lying fully on the bed.

Horangi now had his head still in the pillows, chest pressed to the mattress while pushing up on his knees and letting his ass stick up in the air. Although not the most comfortable of positions, it did feel erotic. Feeling the cool air of the room and Konig’s fervent gaze on his cunt.

Konig did not dawdle, giving his own cock a few eager strokes as he positioned himself behind his lover. Both of his large hands taking to either side of Horangi’s ass and spreading his lower ass and lips apart.

Horangi could not help but whimper a little, feeling his walls clenching as if shy from being exposed. Turning his head a little, he could not see much but could see Konig taking a second to admire what he beheld.

Lips and thighs red with blood, lips and folds a soft pink and bush of black hair surrounding it all. His engorged clit, large and hooded, visibly twitched at the feeling of his eyes. It was a view Konig had seen many times before but still felt blessed everytime he beheld it.

Konig did not wait a moment longer, aligning his hips and slowly pressing his cock forward between Horangi’s lips and inside. The shorter man let out a faint groan, eyes rolling upwards as he felt himself stretch slowly to make Konig fit.

Konig was large, as expected from a man of his stature, but Horangi had greedily taken it in stride. He liked everything large about Konig, his hands, his thighs, his chest, his shoulders, his cock. Each more for Horangi to touch and hold and kiss and love. And Horangi had gladly taken all of Konig like a man starved, both of them mostly playing hard and rough with each other. But sometimes, they slowed down and the raw, tender emotion in the depths revealed itself.

This was one of those times.

Although Horangi was more than familiar with Konig’s sheer size in all the expected ways, Konig still took his time. Slowly sheathing himself inside at a slow but calming rate. Both of their quickened breaths were surely the only noise in the room before Konig bottomed out. Konig letting out a sigh and Horangi muffling a moan amongst the cushions.

Konig’s encompassing hands took to below him cupping at the highest point of Horangi’s thighs and lowest of his stomach. The touch was grounding but arousing all at once, making Horangi’s skin tingle anew just as Konig began to pull out.

His cock was painted crimson with blood but glistening nonetheless with ample slick and Konig could not help but savour the way Horangi’s walls strained as he pulled away, as if reluctant to let him go. Horangi let out a solid breath as he felt his body ache from the loss.

But Konig did not leave him empty for long, pressing back in with a soft huff. This time with purpose and pushing to the still sensitive wall that forced Horangi’s mouth open to groan.

Konig then started a slow but deep pace, dragging out and pushing in, impactful enough for Horangi to moan or gasp at nearly each one.

Bliss soon fogged Horangi’s mind once more, his mouth open as he breathed huffs of air. The pillow below starting to grow wet from saliva from his open mouth. Horangi found himself not caring about the grossness, squeezing his eye shuts and burying further into the pillow as one thrust had him keening.

Konig tried his best not to cum too fast, Horangi hot and tight walls working their unmistakable magic on pushing him close to the edge so quickly. The sight of Horangi half smothered amongst the pillows not helping things at all.

“H-Horangi,” Konig whimpered from above, not stopping his movements but thrusting a bit more shallow. “I’m, ah- close, I’m sorry I don’t-“

“It’s ok,” Horangi said faintly, turning his head to catch his eye from where he lay. “Go ahead, finish inside.”

Konig’s cock ached at the thought, balls aching as he glimpsed just what that would feel like. “A-Are you sure? What -hah, about you?”

“Mm,” Horangi only hummed.

Konig was not quite satisfied with that answer as he refocused his pace, knowing that he had been intending to focus solely on Horangi’s satisfaction, his own being an afterthought. So, he sneaked a hand lower and went between Horangi’s thighs. His fingers then cupping over his mound, the tips of his fingers brushing softly at the other man’s unattended cock

The reaction from Horangi was immediate, letting out a breathless whimper as he shuddered internally and externally.

This only encouraged Konig, who continued his steady pace whilst his index finger rolled the tender bud in circles, just as he knew Horangi liked it. What little strength Horangi had soon left him as his knees grew weak below. His weight getting the better of him until only Konig’s strong hands held him away from fully lying flat on the bed.

Horangi felt half gelatinous, wanting to slump onto the bed and just let Konig have his way with him until his next orgasm came. His shape only maintained by Konig’s steadying grip of his lower half.

While his rhythm had stuttered as his orgasm closened, his fingers at Horangi’s clit were unwavering, determined that Horangi would meet his pleasureful end before him. And he soon found himself succeeding.

Horangi was soon going undone below him, whimpering and groaning with the occasional whispered, ‘yes’, ‘fuck’ or ‘konig’ dribbling out as his brain seemed to steam under the flames of ecstasy. A large damp puddle now staining the pillow under his mouth while his hands gripped onto the fabric weakly as if grasping the little bit of sanity he still had left.

Konig felt Horangi finally cum as his insides squeezed deliciously around him and one lashing gasp for breath as his body stiffened then released. Still making faint noises with each thrust Konig did after, his mind, however, far off in the clouds.

Konig only needed a few more thrusts, fucking into Horangi’s sweat, bloody, hot core before he felt himself cum. Horangi whimpering as he felt Konig spill within him. Mixing with his blood inside.

Konig then finally stilled, hand releasing Horangi to let him flop to the mattress. Groaning mournfully as he carefully pulled himself out with a squelching pop. Looking down, he first saw his hand and softening cock were stained scarlet and then noticed Horangi’s cunt, thighs and ass were not much better. Konig taking a moment to watch as a thicker, white liquid dribbled a little out of Horangi’s hole. The image would have surely sparked arousal in him if he had not just came, so instead he filed the thought away for later.

In the meanwhile, he leaned over and kissed at the bare part of Horangi’s back where his hoody had slid up his torso, then lifting to kiss his covered shoulder, then bare neck, then clammy forehead. Trying to kindly bring Horangi back to the present.

The Korean rolled his head to one side, screwing his face into a frown before opening, making Konig’s heart stumble at the endearing sight.

“I am just going to go get some water to clean you up.” Konig said softly, his undirtied hand lifting to push back some hair that had fallen in his face. “I’ll be gone for just a moment.”

Horangi nodded stiffly, eyes open by only a fraction.

Konig was quick, ducking out and back in with ample water to wet the spare towels he had brought. Getting to work on cleaning up Horangi’s still tired and limp body. It would not replace a shower, but it would do for now.

Once Konig had cleaned both of them up, Horangi had grown more wakeful again, although lethargic. Tucking himself back under the sheets as he watched Konig do the final touches of clean up.

“Do you have any of those sweets from last time?” Recalling the crinkly wrappered candies that Konig had discovered in town.

“Yes, actually.” Konig thanked his past self for always keeping them handy. Pulling out a ziplock bag from one of his many trouser packets, filled with red wrapped sweets. “I know you only liked the strawberry ones so I went through and got them all.” Handing the packet over into Horangi’s welcoming hands.

Horangi stared, surprised and flattered by the thoughtfulness. For all of it. Coming to him at a time he needed comfort most. Not showing disgust but compassion. Making him feel sexy even at his most discomforting time. Making him feel cared for.

“How are you real?” Horangi found himself asking.

“Hm?” Konig hummed, appearing to have not heard what he had said.

Horangi felt far too embarrassed to repeat himself, so he said instead,“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Konig said with that same warm, bright smile that could blind even the sun.

Horangi then burrowed deeper into his nest of sheets and pillows, nodding to Konig to join him. “Now get in here, it’s cold without you.”

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