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superficialdomina · 1 year

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Vulnerable (Into Submission, part 1)

Series masterlist

A/N: You all inspired me, so I wrote a thing. I'm brand new and I don't know what I'm doing.

Summary: You've tricked the God of Mischief into a compromising position, and he's a bit upset about it. But he's also lustful and curious, so he's going to go along with it for a bit.

Warnings: 18+. Minors DNI. Smut, angst. Domme reader. Sub!Loki. Sad Loki. No physical pain but Loki confronts some things. Did I miss anything? (Am I doing this right?)

You study the God sitting before you. He is seated on a high-backed stool, his long legs stretched out before him and crossed casually at the ankle. He is naked except for tight, black satin boxer shorts, his sculpted torso and thick, strong thighs exposed, his arms secured behind his back from elbow to wrist.

He glares back at you, eyes smouldering in barely concealed rage.

“What is the meaning of this, Agent?” He hisses. “I was under the impression that you brought me here to seduce me - not capture me.”

You laugh softly and enjoy the subsequent flicker of annoyance in his face. “Forgive me for the slight misdirection, sweet. I wanted to play with you a little, and I didn’t think you’d let me restrain you willingly.”

Almost imperceptibly, his body begins to relax at your words, but he continues to watch you intently, warily. You drink in the sight of him, the vulnerability of his position filling you with lust.

You watch him force the sultry smirk back across his features. “I see,” he says coldly. “I don’t think I’m in the mood for games.”

You ignore his barb and step closer to him, the ring of your boots on the hard marble floor echoing around the otherwise empty chamber. You run the tips of your fingers across his collarbone and he exhales hard at your touch, his anger and humiliation at your trick beginning to evaporate.

"Are you going to hurt me, Agent?" He quips, still smirking.

Your body purrs in response. "Do you want me to hurt you, Prince?"

"I…" He hesitates, momentarily surprised.

You move until you are directly behind him, placing your hands on his shoulders and leaning into his ear. For a moment you pause, instilled with power at the feel of the leather corset wrapped around your own body underneath your sweet little button-up dress. “Come on, Loki,” you laugh quietly, “play along - it will be fun,” you lie. Well, fun for me.

The sides of his mouth turn up in a small smirk. “I’m not sure I believe you, Agent," he says sceptically, turning his head to try to look you in the eye and raising an eyebrow. “But I am… intrigued. Show me what happens next in your little game.”

Except that this is no game, you think smugly. Give me just a little, and I will take EVERYTHING from you.

You begin to give in to the arousal in your body, letting lust guide you as you slowly move around his seated figure. Your fingers trace his perfect, pale skin, taut over his lean body, and gently draw back the loose, dark curls that have fallen over his face. Godsss, he is so vulnerable. You relish the power of the moment, willing yourself to be patient as heat rises in your core. Let it begin.

Standing before him, you begin to unbutton the cleavage of your little black dress, slowly revealing the hidden secret below. Strips of supple, black leather bound with brass O-rings form a harness that holds your ample breasts, crossing your waist in a garter belt and ending in a pair of thigh harnesses somewhere above your knees. Loki stares at you, open mouthed, a sharp intake of breath followed by a deep groan at the sight of you. You let the dress fall dramatically and step towards him.

His arms jolt as you approach him, forgetting the restraints binding his wrists as he tries to reach you. Anger flashes across his face again briefly, before his sexy smirk returns.

“Are you having fun, darling?” You purr. He doesn’t respond, but he shifts his position on the stool - back straighter, legs bent at the knee, hips wide. You lean into him, pressing your hands into his muscular legs and letting your own thighs grind against his crotch, making him moan softly. Your leather-clad breasts are at his eye level, and he leans forward into you, inhaling deeply. You lean back just out of his reach; he makes the smallest whimper, and his eyes flutter closed for the briefest moment.

You lean into his neck and let your tongue brush his earlobe, making him gasp softly. “In that case, my sweet,” you murmur, “I ask a little something from you. A length of silk, please, as wide as your hand.”

His eyes narrow slightly, his mouth twitching, the intrigue and lust you have sparked overcoming his mistrust. Wordlessly, he conjures a long strip of soft, black cloth in the air above himself. It falls gently into his lap.

Willing participation, you think with satisfaction. Excellent.

You pick up the soft silk, sliding your hand along the swelling member between his legs as you do so. The sight of his godly cock pressing against his tight, black boxers makes your cunt pulse delightfully, and you take a steadying breath. He twitches at your touch as you deftly wrap the blindfold across his eyes and secure it behind his head, his agitation returning at this renewed feeling of vulnerability.

“Agent-”, he growls warningly.

“Just a game,” you murmur again, moving your fingers to his perfect jawline. You find his pulse point and are thrilled to feel his heart racing. “If it is too much for you, Prince, you can tell me and we’ll stop.”

“You could not overpower me, even in this… Position,” he snaps back. “Believe me, Agent, when I want you to stop, I will stop you.”

I’m sure you think you will, you smile silently. But I believe you will be begging me to let you stay before the sun rises.

With his hands and eyes secure, you embrace the lustful feelings of control that fill you. Despite his protestations moments ago, he sits perfectly still as you feel your way across his perfect body, clearly enjoying your attention. “So beautiful,” you murmur, and he groans again as you surprise him with your tongue, leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses along his neck. Your cunt aches with need, arousal blooming at both the feel of his exquisite body, and at the sheer helplessness of his situation.

“I could, you know. Hurt you,” you say softly. “One does not need great strength to inflict great pain.” You viciously bite the soft skin, leaving small marks, and quiver with delight when he jumps in reaction.

He half gasps, half groans a response, as you continue your wet onslaught up his neck. “What…ngaa, Gods, what do you want?”. You can hear him losing control, his composure slipping, his pride gone, and feel the slick, slippery mess pooling between your legs in response.

“You know what I want, King,” you spit back at him, the switch from gentle seductress to fierce domme taking both of you by surprise. Gods, he will be mine. “I want you to submit to me. To give yourself to me. I want you to kneel before me, your lithe, taut body shaking with need and lust and capitulation.”

“Ah - so you do want to hurt me,” he sneers, trying and failing to regain his haughty composure.

“No,” you correct him sternly. “At least, not pain as you know it.” Your hands and mouth continue to dance across his body, discovering his most sensitive places as he twitches, gasps and groans in response. You gaze longingly at his thick, hard cock, straining against its containment, eager to run your hands over it. But it mustn’t be rushed.

“I have no interest in beating you into submission, pet,” you sing, your voice swelling again with your own lust and power. “I want you to hold all that strength - that power, that magnificence, that glory - I want you to feel like a King, and a God, and still not be able to stop yourself falling to your knees before me.”

You pause. “And I know you want it, too.”

He swallows. “How-”

“Because,” you interrupt him, “you are still here.” His breathing begins to grow tight and ragged in confusion and need. “You’re right, Prince,” you continue in a whisper, your voice as soft and supple as silk. “I cannot overpower you; I do not seek to conquer you with fear and pain. But as you so elegantly put it - if you did not want this, you would have stopped me.”

At the last words, you finally place your hands on his desperate, needy cock. You run your fingers over the soft fabric, then peel back the waistband and free its mighty weight from its prison. “Ngaah,” - the moan slips softly from your lips, the sight and feel of the perfect, pink, velvety organ too much for your contained exterior. Your cunt pulses achingly, liquid desire almost flowing from you, soaking your panties and forming a slick between your thighs. Deftly, you lift a foot and use it to slide his underwear from his lap and to the floor. Naked. Exposed. Vulnerable. Perfect.

His needy whines continue to escalate as you wrap your fingers around his beautiful length. Finally, he gasps out a single word: “W..Why?”

You smile, thrilled at his acceptance. “Ah, darling, that I cannot know for sure. But I can make a guess.” Your fingers make a tunnel and you stroke his lovely cock, your free hand gently tugging at his scrotum.

“Outside these walls, you are the God of Mischief; poised, powerful, charming.” You keep a slow, measured pace as you continue to pump and squeeze his cock, the rings of your body harness jingling. “But it is a heavy mask, is it not, pet?” Another needy, whiny, groan.

“An elaborate illusion - just like the rest of you.” You lower your face slightly and run the flat of your tongue over the head of his cock. Smooth like satin, sweet like cream.

“The all powerful Loki, the ultimate dichotomy,” you continue, letting a scornful tone take over your voice. “So certain of your own superiority, yet so plagued with doubt and self-loathing.

“So which is it, God? Are you the supreme being, ruler of worlds, wooer of hearts? Or are you no more than a cruel, selfish boy, pulling wings off flies just to watch them crawl?”

He groans again, and this time you hear the genuine pain in his voice as your words wash over him. “I… I don’t…”

“I see you, Loki. I know the depths of unhappiness you feel. Hurt by everyone who was meant to love you. Desperate to be accepted as yourself. Always seeking more - power, greatness, glory - and yet never enough for the people who should have cherished you.”

His breathing is coming in ragged sobs now - whether from ardent desire or from the truth of your words, you can’t tell.

“But here,” you whisper, pressing your body into his, your lips to his ear. “Here, on your knees before me - you can put down your heavy crown.” Finally, you press your open mouth against his, your tongues dancing slowly. The soft blindfold over his eyes feels divine as it brushes your face.

“Aaaah-ngaaAAh,” he moans loudly into your mouth. You feel his balls tighten as his large, hard body shakes in front of you.

“Let go, my sweet, scared rabbit. Put down your mask. Your ego. Step out of the swirling chaos of illusion and control, that howling wind of indecision and doubt.” Now. “Give yourself to me,” now, “- your heart, your mind, your body -” NOW, “and feel the joyful emptiness of submission.”

With the last word, his body convulses, thick white ropes of cum erupting from him and splattering over his chest and chin. He is openly sobbing now, his whole body wracked with emotion in the afterglow of orgasm. You gently let him go, and he slides from the chair to his knees before you, his forehead resting on the floor with his arms still awkwardly restrained behind him.

Quickly you move to remove the blindfold and to release the ropes around his arms. “Shhhhh, my pet,” you soothe, resting on your heels and raising his head to your lap. You stroke his beautiful raven locks, holding him as his sobs subside. “Sshhhh, my love. The worst is over, my sweet, perfect boy. You did so wonderfully. So beautifully.”

He lifts his face to look at you, wide eyed and childlike in his reverence of you. His pupils are the deep colour of onyx in the soft light. When he speaks, his voice is soft, but steady.

“My… My Goddess,” he exhales. “My Deity. Please… Please, I… Please…” He trails off, not certain exactly what he is begging for.

You smile at him, full of pride and love. “You are safe here, beloved,” you reassure him. “You belong to me - your heart, your mind, your body - completely, wholly, always. You belong to me.”

***

Continued in Part 2: Pain

Obnoxiously tagging some of my favourite writers in the hopes that you'll read and maybe give me some feedback? Xx

@lokisgoodgirl @lokischambermaid @gigglingtigger @mochie85 @muddyorbsblr @coldnique @fictive-sl0th

#loki #loki fanfic #sub!loki #loki x reader #loki x female reader smut #loki smut

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nicolesainz · 3 months

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kiss kiss bang bang (SV5) - part 2 from “Tricks and champions”

Sebastian Vettel x f!reader

Author’s note: Thanks to the lovely comments I received from @maverick-mwah the seb one shot will have a second part. I dearly appreciate the love you showed for this fic!

Warnings: smut, minors dni, 18+, age gap, hints of fluff, major daddy issues, aftercare, taking her virginity, its pure porn!

Summary: After the wild ride you had with Seb, the visits at your house don't stop. Especially when your parents aren't home either. This leads Seb to control you since vulnerability has taken over.

My parents decided to fly away to Spain for the week in order to celebrate their anniversary. It's very sweet that my father still deeply cares about mum after all these years of marriage. That's how all couples should be.

People my age, having an empty house like mine, would definitely use it in order to invite friends and party until very early the next morning. Or get fully wasted with a mix of drinks. Which was my original plan. And yet, I don't really regret how things turned out.

The first night being alone sled by lonely and boring. I ordered some food and had a marathon of The Office, followed by a small concert with all of Taylor Swift's songs. In an empty house, almost in the middle of nowhere in Germany, activities are limited. Or so I thought.

"You need to come to the party. Don't be a buzzkill now." My best friend said over the phone as I was cleaning the mess of a room I have. I usually am up for any available party but I just wasn't in the mood. I would rather drink my feelings away than dress up in uncomfortable heels.

"Sorry bae, not in the mood. Plus, I am feeling a bit unwell. Probably was the Chinese food I had last night." This was a lie, obviously. I was perfectly fine, plainly bored.

"Do you want me to come over? Do you need any help girl?" There's an apparent worry in her voice, which I am trying to dodge very quickly.

"Thank you lovely but I will be alright. Go have fun and text me if anything occurs." I reassure her genuinely touched with her worry.

"I will but if you need me for anything I will rush to you. Take care y/n." We exchange our goodbyes and hang up.

It's a very gloomy day and the house is very quiet. Going to this party was probably my only chance to hook up with someone just to remove Sebastian from my thoughts. Which has become impossible after the ride we had two weeks ago.

After the tricks in the circuit, wherever I look, he is there. Either in real life or in my imagination. I imagine him inside the shower with me, in between my thighs, on my bed.

Literally fucking everywhere.

Last week, at the annual Sunday dinner my family hosts with Sebastian, he was caressing my thigh under the table, as he was casually chatting with my father. It was probably a bad idea to wear that short skirt.

I decide to take matters into my own hands and fully clear out my bed, lay a towel, light up some vanilla scented candles and finish the job by myself so I can take off the thought of Sebastian from my mind.

I put on a complication of his 'dirtiest' team radios where he curses every time either in English or German, dropping sexual hints while he is frustrated.

I plug in my AirPods and put the video on replay until I manage to finish. I put some lube on my fingers and start rubbing it against my pussy. The moment Seb's voice echoes inside my ears, I feel a wave of pleasure taking over me, as slight groans come out of my mouth.

Along with Sebastian's voice, I moan some 'fuck'' and 'shit' as I slide and pump my fingers inside my wet self in a faster pace. My womanhood clenches around my fingers although the desperation in my voice shows how needy I am of Sebastian.

"Jesus Seb." I let out during the thought that my fingers are Sebastian's, pushing me to my limits.

I open my eyes slightly only to be met with a blurry figure of a blonde haired man. I was so obsessed with Sebastian that I was hallucinating.

And yet I wasn't.

He was indeed in the room.

Watching me masturbate with the help of his voice.

I panicked instantly and pulled the covers on top of my body, trying to hide from the feeling of embarrassment and Sebastian's gawking eyes that were scanning me from head to toe.

"So when the cats are away, the mice come out and play. Or in your case, simply come." He jokes around with a massive smirk plastered on his face.

"I-it's not what it looks like, I was, uh" I didn't know how to excuse my actions.

"And yet it so is what it looks like." He rolls his eyes but immediately looks back at me, licking his lips.

"Okay fine, you caught me in a vulnerable moment. I have needs but no boyfriend to satisfy me. I would've gone to a party just to release my frustration but better safe than sorry." I don't know why I said all those things to Sebastian but for some reason I open up to him more easily.

Literally and figuratively.

"So it was very difficult for you to think of me, right?" He exclaims but quickly silences himself as the audio from my phone hasn't paused and the cursing is loud and clear.

He looks around the room to see from where this sound is coming from and when he notices I am trying to mute my phone, he grabs it from my hands and takes a lot at the content amused.

"So you were thinking of me. Just not calling me but simply replacing me."

Sebastian kneeled down to my height and removed the covers from my legs. My panties were still wrapped around my thighs and small hints of wetness were apparent. No shame took over me. Which was oddly weird.

"You know I am here for you if you ever need me, baby. For anything." He positions my body right in front of his face, looking me deeply into my eyes with such innocence, yet I knew that none of his following actions were gonna be the same.

"It's not right Sebastian. You're twice my age and a friend of my father's. You are a person I admire, not someone I should be thinking of in that way." That was the moment where I felt truly ashamed of myself but with a few words, Sebastian made me feel like what was going to happen between us is the most right thing in the world.

"Admiring someone doesn't necessarily mean you can't love them or want them in any other way. I know the kind of girl you are, Y/n. You've literally confessed to me your entire love life, pleading for a man that will treat you right and be there for you."

I didn't know if I wanted to cry or smile at his words. I was right there in front of him, spread legs and needy of a mans touch. He barely looked down at my womanhood or removed his eyes from mine. I needed a man who could bring the best of both worlds.

He was right in front of me.

"I need you Seb. Madly. I can't get you out of my head. Help me." I cooed softly, my desperation is clearly showing more than it should.

"All I will ask is, are you willing to let me take care of your need 100% dear? Because there is no going back after that." The fact that he asked me for reassurance and didn't throw himself at me the moment I begged him, proved to me that no man can be like Sebastian.

"I trust you blindly." I put my forehead softly against his and he instantly captures my lips into a soft kiss, full of reassurance, trust and emotion. His hands are on the sides of my thighs, holding against them firmly and climbing on top of my body feeling more of his warmth.

Sebastian's piercing blue eyes focus on the rhythm of my breathing that is being patterned on the mannerism the way by breasts bounce up and down. I can feel myself blushing given that no matter how many men have looked this tensely at me, only he can cause butterflies to my stomach.

With one arm, he removes his t-shirt, revealing a very well fitted 36 year old on whose body I want to lay my hands on and worship like he is a greek god. I softly trace the V-line on top of his belt and the kiss becomes even more tense with a simple touch.

"You don't know what you're doing to me." He mumbles against my lips as he is trying to unbuckle his belt and get rid of the trousers that are hiding from my sight the hardened erection I caused.

"Then show me." I so easily say, yet I don't know the mix of pain and pleasure I am about to experience because of my actions. Sebastian grunts and with my help, his trousers are on the floor and I can feel against my wet unclothed pussy his erected cock.

Sebastian breaks the kiss and stands up, in the process of which he is picking me up as well. My breathing becomes harder as he takes my top off and now we are semi naked in front of each other. Only a few barriers which in a few seconds are gone. I strap off my bra slowly, revealing my breast to his sight.

"You are beautiful. Absolutely mesmerising. My god" he sighs and kneels in front of me. I am absolutely shocked by what he is doing. I feel his hands holding firmly my thighs and in matters of seconds his lips on my pussy, eating me up like a starved man. His tongue flicking against my clit, sending euphoric vibration at my entire body.

"Fuck, Seb" I moan uncontrollably as he keeps feasting on the juices that are covering my womanhood and his jaw. My fingers tangle on his blonde curls, pulling them slightly as I am trying with all my willpower not to crush his face with my trembling thighs.

My head falls back and my moans become louder and louder as Sebastian slowly removes his his mouth from my pussy and slams it against mine, while inserting his index and middle finger inside my wetness.

"So innocent and yet you're clenching around my fingers like a needy whore." His fingers are pumping inside me in quite a fast pace but just the perfect one to send me into fucking oblivion. My fingers are scratching his back like a wild animal.

"I need to cum, Seb, please." I have never begged anyone for anything in my life and yet, another first time of mine had just been ticked off the box with the help of Sebastian. He applies a bit more pressure to my very swollen pussy, by using his thumb to play along with my clit.

"Then do so baby. All over my fingers." The moment he says it, I release immediately along with a tense groan from both of us. God that felt amazing. Sebastian grabs me back, laying me on the bed, knees weaker than wooden sticks but surely needy for more.

"I need you to be fully sure of what is about to happen darling. Allow me?" My heart drops to my stomach with his words. A few minutes ago he was fucking me with his fingers with such ease and now he is asking for permission.

Best of both worlds.

"There is no man on this earth I trust more than you, Seb. Yes, I am fully aware." I reply with a kind smile on my face, reassuring him that he is the only man I need and want.

His lips connect with mine once more, although this time the kiss was more meaningful than anything. It was me showing Sebastian that I trust him with something so sacred and fragile but something I would only want him to have.

His fingers are toying with my nipples while his mouth is occupied with my neck, trying to leave as many hickies humanly possible. I do not mind at all, though I will need many formulas of makeup to hide his mess.

"Can I touch you?" I quietly ask him as he still was wearing his underwear that were trying to hold on his frustrated cock. I was so afraid of asking him such a thing even though it wouldn't be my first time touching a man.

"Your touch is what I am craving." He grabs my hand and places it on top of his edged bulge that wants to be taken care of. Having his confirmation, I remove the barrier, the boxers, in swift movements, with his cock springing out.

I wrap my hands around his erection, feeling the hints of pre cum on the tip, I spread the minimum liquid all over, pumping him slowly and teasingly sliding him through my wet folds, causing him to moan on the crook of my neck.

"Jesus baby. I need you." He blurts out and my excitement reaches extremely high levels. When I feel Seb's body lowering on me, I remove my hands from his cock and hold on against his butt. In very slow movements, Sebastian slides himself inside me, as softly as he can, whilst I am trying to adjust to his size.

Sebastian has filled me up entirely and my pussy has been stretched to its limits. He tried to play safe at first with slow trusts that would help him find my sweet spot. Tears of exhaustion and pleasure were covering my eyes.

Suddenly, he picks up the pace, thrusting harder into me, pushing my limits to the maximum and earning multiple moans of his name along the way. The room smells sex. The air smells sex. He and I smell like sex.

"Oh my Seb." I moan as if there is no tomorrow, shamelessly, giving him the satisfaction of achieving to make the first time of a woman better than half of the female's population. Not even better. Heavenly good.

"This is for you. All for you my good girl."

#sebastian vettel smut #sebastian vettel x reader #sebastian vettel fanfic #sebastian vettel #sebastian vettel x you

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thesherrinfordfacility · 8 months

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it goes something like this: this is a demon that isn't a very good demon and has survived this far by not allowing anyone to see other than himself that he's not a very good demon. after all, he's been in this position before, hasn't he? he's shown Someone who he truly is, what is in his mind and heart so to speak, and was ruined because of it. but he still can't shake off the feeling of doing the right thing, regardless of whether it goes against heaven or hell.

and then appears this angel that has already told him on that wall that it would be awful if he, the angel, were to do the wrong thing and he, the demon, to do the right thing. it's meant to be the other way around, simply by the will of someone they haven't heard a voice from in centuries, millennia, let alone be able to even understand. this angel who the demon knows is going to be set on doing the divine thing, wrong thing, so he can't trust him to know that he's doing the right thing. he has to keep his cover, make this angel fear him, so he doesn't get close enough to see beyond the facade. because to thwart him as a demon is the good thing, but he can't trust the angel to see that he's doing the right thing.

but this angel accosts him, tells him that he doesn't think this is right, that it can't be what god intended; well, close, but no cigar. the angel beseeches to the demon to do the right thing this time, that the goats were one thing, but please, please, don't harm the children. and it's a close call, but how could he trust this angel? trust the angel to have some sliver of faith in him? trust him to re-examine his prejudice and see him as more than a demon, and all its preconceptions? but the angel does work it out, does see, and it perhaps births the hope that this angel won't stop him from doing the right thing.

it goes something like this: this angel is now a smug but tentative temporary ally. he's seen through him, and he hasn't been thwarted yet, so maybe he has the room to continue with his plan, his agenda, to do the right thing. but he doesn't have the full measure of this angel yet; how mercurial is he? will he change his mind? he seemed hesitant at the flood, but he doesn't get consulted on policy decisions; will actually saving the children be a step too far for the angel? will the angel baulk, and run back to the comfort of just following orders?

he sets the house on fire, and the angel initially doesn't seem to realise that it's a mirage, a magic trick. the demon's just setting the stage. the angel is shocked, momentarily panicking that his faith in this demon was misplaced. but the angel doesn't understand that it's a test, that the demon is scrutinising where his allegiance lies, that he won't thwart this trick, believing it a genuine attempt to harm the children. he offers deniable plausibility; offers the version that he is naturally a bad person because he's a demon - but fear me, stay away, you can't beat me; if you have changed your mind, don't try to stop me because i won't let you win.

but the angel shows again where his moral compass lies, and resolves that he does know this demon, and knows that he won't do what he's threatening to do. that he will do the right thing, and push him to follow it through. so he picks up the gauntlet. he knows that the demon lied before, and he would stake his faith on the fact that he's lying now. that he's not reneging on the true him that was revealed to the angel, that that was the important bit that wasn't a lie.

it goes something like this: now it's the angel's turn. this demon, this good person who does the right thing, is staring him down. setting up the challenge, and silently pleading that he does the right thing too. but the demon knows the stakes are higher for this angel; the demon operates alone, has had the freedom to somewhat pave his own way, and do whatever he wants, and only truly cares about answering to himself. this angel is literally surrounded, backed into the corner. the demon wants to know what he'll choose; will he choose the good thing - telling the truth, and bring down the fledgling trust they've just set up between them? or will he choose the right thing - to lie and ensure that this family, that has done nothing to warrant any of these horrors, can continue to exist in peace?

not only does the angel lie, but he stakes it on everything that he is. he stakes it on being an angel. a direct wager that if the other angels see through the lie, that is the price the angel will need to pay. the demon is suitably impressed, he applauds the performance and the sacrifice, and possibly even feels some degree of sympathy. because whilst this demon's existence isn't easy, he doesn't have much else to lose. he's already lost it, and still feeling the waves crashing on the shore, but it doesn't knock anything down. for this angel, this is everything he embodies and believes himself to be. he still has everything to lose. the demon has been there before, facing the risk of, and survived, losing that, and knows that conflict and pain. but is the price worth it? is it worth doing the right thing?

it goes something like this: the demon goes to the angel. they're not friends, not even really allies, but they've shared the same experience. the demon is surprised that the angel thought he'd fall, but he understands that fear. he recognises and respects that vulnerability, to show the shards of yourself to someone else knowing that they could either help to put them back together, or further trample them into dust. so he comforts the angel with not an assurance that they are still good, because that would be a lie. instead he offers the truth - that he did the right thing, and whilst its a lonely and thankless path to walk, a dangerous moral ground to tread, he won't be alone in walking it.

he lets the angel in on a little secret: that he too is vulnerable. that he is lonely. he has a weakness that at any given moment this angel could exploit if he were so minded. that this angel could experience is a one-off, and he could revert to seeing the demon as someone incapable of doing the right thing by nature of what he is. but he trusts that he won't. the demon recognises and acknowledges what the angel risked for a greater purpose, for helping him achieve that purpose, and for seeing who this demon actually is. he is showing the angel behind the curtain screen, the murky and unknowable that lies ahead when stepping out of the light. showing that they can be, and are, more than the labels they are assigned, and that doing the right thing is the only thing that truly matters.

it goes something like this: the demon trusts the angel enough to admit, unequivocally, out loud, that he lied.

#good omens #good omens meta #this one ran away from me and got a bit poetic please excuse me #you find rhi on this lazy sunday in a fanciful mood #flashback meta #crowley meta #aziraphale meta #s2 meta

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lancermylove · 10 months

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Adopted by the Demon Bros (Scenarios)

Fandom: Twisted Wonderland, Obey Me

Pairing: All dorms with gn!Reader. Featuring the demon brothers.

Warning: None

Requested by: @animealways

Prompt: obey me x twisted wonderland Headcanon for all the characters finding out yuu is adopted by the demon brothers (adeuce and grimm face realizing they have been getting the literall devil child in trouble day in and out/everyone els who had a overblote being like "oh shit i attacked a literall demon kid" 😂)

A/N: The HCs ended up turning into this chaotic mess. 😂

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Ruggie couldn't stop laughing. Adopted by demons? Sure, you were. Just like he was the King of Sunset Savana. Leona ignored your statement while Jack brushed it off as a joke.

"I'm being serious! Look!" You shuffled through your phone's gallery to find your birthday celebration video. "See!"

The three men silently watched the video, and Ruggie was the first to speak. "They're just wearing costumes. You ain't fooling anyone."

You gripped your phone in frustration before yelling, "Fine." Which brother to summon? Calling Lucifer or Satan was out of the question; calling Asmo would be risky as he would find the Savanaclaw members attractive and possibly charm them; calling Levi or Belphie would result in chaos, so that felt Mammon or Beel.

You closed your eyes and began chanting a spell. Jack and Ruggie didn't react, but Leona's ears perked up as his muscles tensed. "Heed my call and come forth Mammon!"

The second brother appeared out of thin air. Jack started to growl, Ruggie's ears lowered as he backed away, and Leona maintained his composure but kept his guard up. When he saw the men, Mammon immediately pulled you into a protective hug. "Who are they? Are they tryin' to hurt ya, (y/n)?"

"Nope! Mammon, I want you to meet my friends. The princely prick is Leona, the clueless but sweet musclehead is Jack, and the ever-hungry hyena is Ruggie," you giggled. "So guys do you believe me now? I am adopted by the seven demons~ also known as the Seven Rulers of Devildom."

From that day on, Leona never picked on you but didn't let you get away with calling him a prick. Ruggie never played around with you nor tricked you into doing anything, and Jack was cautious around you.

Lilia and Malleus chuckled and thought you were trying to tease Sebek with your statement. Silver stood beside his father in silence as he tried to study your expressions. He was the only one who didn't think you were joking.

"Human! Do you believe I, Sebek, would fall for your tricks?"

His tone was firm and loud, as usual, but you also felt a sense of mockery. Yes, what you said would have been hard to believe if you were in a world filled with only humans, but in front of you were two and a half faes. Out of them, one could turn into a dragon.

"I am telling the truth! I am adopted by demons," you frowned.

"Demons don't exist," he said while rolling his eyes.

"Sebek, you are part fae. Lilia and Malleus are faes. Malleus has dragon horns...and Silver is a human adopted by Lilia, a fae," your frown grew deeper. "So why is it so hard to believe my family members are demons."

"You are lying, and I will not allow you to speak a lie in front of the future king of Briar Valley!"

You were at your limits, and without saying a word, you took out the wand Solomon gifted you and wildly waved your arm with the tip pointing to the ground. In a few seconds, a large circle with an intricate pattern appeared on the floor. Much to the Diasomnia members' shock, the magic formation glowed red, and suffocating dark energy poured into the room.

Lilia and Malleus quickly used their magic to suppress the formation and stop the entity you were attempting to summon. Sebek was speechless, and Silver was stunned yet amazed. Before any of them could say a word, your phone rang.

"Hey, Lucifer!" You emphasized his name more and chuckled, "Everything is okay. I wanted to introduce you to my friends because they didn't believe me when I said demons exist. Okay, I will take care, and yes, I am eating properly...and focusing on my studies. Love you too! Bye."

You slid your phone into your jacket pocket and looked at the four students. Their faces were pallid, and they only stared at you with wide eyes. Feeling like you got the last laugh, you playfully smiled and poked them for the final time. "Why do all of you guys look like you saw a ghost?"

"You are...what?" Idia asked.

"Adopted by a family of demons. Seven demons, to be exact," you smiled.

He blankly stared, but before the silence could get uncomfortable, Idia said, "So lemme guess. The oldest brother comes off as cold, cruel, and arrogant but is caring and misunderstood. Not that he cares. The second brother is the family joker, comes off as rude, but is the kindest one - always lookin' out for his brothers. The third brother is a shut-in otaku who is also a gamer and thinks badly about himself...but all he wants is someone to understand and love him."

Ortho didn't think his brother could talk so much in one go, but Idia continued, "The fourth brother has anger issues and pretends he doesn't care about his brothers. In reality, he does. He also likes reading and cats. The fifth brother is obsessed with his appearance, but his beauty is unparalleled. He's easy to get along with but is very clingy. The sixth brother is a musclehead and has a bottomless appetite. He cares about his family more than anything and will protect them at any cost. The seventh brother sleeps all the time and is spoiled by everyone. He sometimes has a short temper and is intelligent. Then you woke up from your dream and realized it was only a game."

"Running a lie detector scan. Scan completed," Ortho said. "Onii-chan, (y/n) is speaking the truth. They are adopted by demons."

"What's next, Ortho? Her family members' names are Lucifer, Mammon, Levithan, Satan, Asmodeus, Beelzebub, and Belphegor," Idia sarcastically said.

"Yes," you said in absolute shock.

"What?" Idia questioned.

"Upload (y/n)'s family report from NRC's database. Onii-chan, you are right! Those are the names of the demons," he laughed.

You and Idia stared at each other without moving for hours. Neither one of you could process what just happened. Meanwhile, Ortho read the details of the demon brother's out loud.

"Why are all of you being so mean?" You huffed and crossed your arms.

"Maybe because you said your family is made up of demons?" Ace laughed. "Demons...actually demons? You couldn't think up of anything better?"

"It's okay if you don't want to introduce them to us," Trey sighed.

Deuce felt guilty for laughing at you earlier and apologized, "Sorry. Didn't mean to laugh earlier, but what you said was funny..."

"(Y/n). You look like you are about to cry," Cater chuckled, "and Riddle, why do you look scared?"

"S-Scared? Of what? Demons don't exist...," the house warden said under his breath.

"I was going to ask Asmo or Mammon to come over, but I changed my mind. You guys deserve to meet Lucifer or Satan."

"Lucifer and Satan? Like the literal devils?" Ace laughed harder. "What imaginary world do you live in?"

"Okay, that's it!" You closed your eyes, chanted a few words, and called for Satan. "Come forth and answer my call, Satan!"

Ace and Deuce nearly screamed when a man with horns and a spikey tail appeared beside them, looking confused. He ignored them and looked at you. "(Y/n), why did you summon me? Did something happen? And...who are these men?"

"Satan! These men are being mean to me, and I want you to put curses on them...well, except Riddle...he wasn't mean. Curse Cater, so he can't use his phone all day. Curse Deuce so he can't pick fights with anyone. Curse Trey, so he can't brush his teeth for a few days. Curse Ace, so everyone laughs at him whenever they see him," You g gritted your teeth.

"W-Wait, I need to upload photos daily! I can't disappoint my followers," Cater exclaimed while holding his hands up in defense. "I am sorry for not believing you! By the way, Satan, can I take a picture with you? I need a viral photo."

Satan raised an eyebrow but ignored his request and turned his attention to you. "You call those curses? How about I turn all of them into chihuahuas?"

"Then I would have to take care of them," you vigorously shook your head.

"When they try to talk, they start singing, but their singing sounds like listening to a soundtrack backward?"

"Oh...I like that idea! How about getting Cerberus to chase them around?"

"I can't control Cerberus...only a CERTAIN someone can," Satan frowned. "Making them invisible?"

"They have grades to maintain and will be expelled if they fail. How about bringing them to Devildom? They can see what hell looks like."

As you and Satan threw ideas back and forth, the members of Heartslaybul stood in a corner, huddled up. Your words were enough to make them believe you were being raised by demons - they all made a mental note to never mess with you... ever again.

"No, I am being absolutely serious. Rook, you believe me, right?" Your eyes darted toward the hunter, hoping at least he would back you up.

"I dislike such senseless humor. Kindly stop," Vil politely requested as he glared daggers at you.

"Why would I joke about my family? They really are demons!"

Epel shifted uncomfortably and mumbled, "It ain't nice to call yer family...your family by such a mean name."

"Mean? Epel, just like you are a human. They are demons. That's their race," you pouted. "I am not trying to be mean."

Vil took a few deep breaths to calm himself. He folded his arms across his chest and looked you straight in the eyes, "Very well. Then why not call one of your family members here? I am certain that if they are demons, you can summon them here."

"Oh, then I should call Asmo. He will get along with everyone in Pomefoire."

You closed your eyes and muttered a chant to open a portal for Asmo. You stood with your arms open, expecting the fifth brother to run out of the portal and hug you; instead, you saw Levi step out of the portal and instantly freeze. Seeing unknown people staring at him, the third brother frantically looked for a hiding place. He ran behind you and bent down. "Too many...people..."

"Levi? What are you doing here? I called Asmo."

"I...wanted to see y-you," he shakily whispered.

The members of Pomefiore stared at Levi's tail, not believing what they were seeing. Epel's grandmother always taught him that demons were terrible - creatures of the dark that could hurt and kill, but Levi looked nothing like what she had described. Rook, on the other hand, was fascinated. If he asked you to visit your homeland, would you take him?

"(Y/n). I apologize for my behavior earlier. I did think you were lying, yet you proved me incorrect," he smiled. "Levi, welcome to Pomefiore. My name is Vil Schoenheit, and I am the house warden. Would you like to join us for lunch? We won't bite. I promise."

"Demon?" Azul pondered while pushing his glasses up with the tip of his finger. "Ah, I see."

Jade nodded, "My apologies. Rather unfortunate that we cannot select our family members."

"Cheer up, shrimpy," Floyd added. "You've us."

"What? I'm very confused. Oh, wait. That's not what I meant," you laughed. "I don't mean my family members are demonic. I mean, my family members are actual demons."

"Actual...demons?" The house warden chuckled. "(Y/n). Did Ace accidentally hit your head with a spell drive disc again?"

"I'm being serious! Fine, let me prove it to you. Since you three enjoy tormenting people, its time someone tormented you," a devilish smirk tugged on your lips. "Come forth, Beel! Come forth, Belphie!"

"(Y/n)? Is everything okay?" Beel asked, concerned.

Azul jumped at the sight of their horns while the twins stared in shock and amusement. You quickly took out your phone to secretly record their reaction. "Hi, Beel! Everything is a-okay! Belphie. Beel. Meet Jade and Floyd. They're twins, just like you two. And this is Azul."

Belphie nodded, still half asleep, but Beel was too distracted to reply. The smell of freshly cooked food tickled his nose and drew him towards the Mostro Lounge kitchen.

"By the way, Azul, won't you treat my family to your famous Mostro Lounge menu?"

He noticed a hint of teasing in your voice but didn't think much of it. "Ah, where are my manners? Jade. Floyd. Kindly treat our guests to any food or drink they like."

You smirked, "Payback time."

Since that day, Azul banned you from summoning Beel inside Octavinelle. All the profits he made for the week were devoured by the sixth brother within an hour. Also, the students of Octavinelle thought twice before giving you a hard time.

Jamil shook his head at Kalim's excitement - how could he easily believe your words? He understood you trying to prank Kalim, but did you honestly think he would believe you? Demons don't exist. Wait, did you mean your family was demonic, like evil in nature? That made more sense.

"I wish I could call all of them here, but that would get too chaotic. Let me call the prettiest and easiest one to get along with!" You recited his change and called his name, "Asmodeus, come forth."

Jamil's eyes widened as a gasp escaped his lips, "Wait, why did your chant sound like a real-"

"Sweetie!" Asmo appeared behind you and threw his arms around you. "I missed you so much. Why did you choose to go to a school so far away? I worry about you so much that my skin is feeling the stress. Come back home with me!"

"Sorry, Asmo. I miss you too, but I can't drop out after coming this far. Wait for me a little longer."

"Alright. If that makes you happy, I will wait," he smiled and looked around.

Kalim beamed at him while Jamil stood with his back against the nearest wall, looking like he just saw a ghost. Asmo chuckled, "Sweetie, won't you introduce me to your cute friends?"

"Asmo, this is Kalim, and," you looked at the vice house warden and bit the inside of your lip to suppress your laugh. "That's...Jamil."

"Why do you look frightened? Am I terrifying?" Asmo sulked. "But I am the most beautiful demon alive..."

"You are pretty," Kalim beamed.

"Don't worry about Jamil. He probably has a secret fear of demons," you teased. "He will come around eventually."

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➣ Twisted Wonderland [1][2] ➣ Obey Me Masterlist: [1][2] ➣ Main Masterlist

➣ Buy me a Ko-fi? ➣ Commission: Open || Requests: Closed

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worksby-d · 1 year

Text

𝒟𝓇𝑜𝓅 𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓎𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓃𝑜𝓌

Pairing: best friend’s dad!Andy Barber x fem!Reader

Summary: Still learning what you do and don't like when it comes to your sex life with Andy.

Warnings: Age gap (Reader in her 20s), quickie, kinda rough, little bit of degrading dirty talk, choking, delayed (?) aftercare (i probably made that up lmfao you'll see though), 18+

Word count: ~1,000

· · ┈─────── ⋆៹ ✩۪۟۟≭ ───────┈ · ·

His hand covering your mouth muffles each shuddering breath you let out as your hips repeatedly hit against the edge of his porcelain countertop.

“You couldn't wait just a couple hours, could you?”

Crying out against his palm, you shake your head, praying his walls are thick enough to stifle the obscene noises–the dirty words he's growling in your ear.

“You had to get me up here to fuck you in this bathroom instead, huh?”

If he wasn't fucking you senseless, you'd make a remark about how it wasn't hard to do.

He almost choked on his beer reading the first text you sent, quickly glancing at his son, hoping he didn't notice.

It was you telling him exactly what you were planning to do with him later. He did his best to ignore you, to keep from shifting in his seat–until you followed up with some pictures you knew would do the trick when he didn't respond.

He finally snapped and told you to call him so he could lie and say it was a work call he needed to take upstairs.

He wasted no time pulling you into his bathroom to give you what you wanted.

“Look at you–”

He forces you to look at yourself in the mirror in front of you–pants pulled down around your thighs, tears welling in your eyes from trying desperately to hold back.

“Acting like a slut will get you fucked like one.”

“Andy, please,” you gasp as his hand drops to your neck. “I'm gonna–”

You can't finish your sentence before your eyes are rolling back, a harsh snap of his hips pushing you over the edge. His fingers press against the sides of your throat to keep you quiet as he cums too, letting out his own muffled moan against your shoulder.

“Good girl.” His voice is hushed, hand loosening its grip on your neck and falling to your waist so he can hold you properly for just a second.

You've barely caught your breath when you feel him pull away from you though, quickly cleaning himself up enough to get back downstairs.

“Dinner’s almost ready,” he says, patting your back as he leans toward you for a quick kiss. “You good?”

Nodding, you kiss him back, almost hesitantly, the realization that he's gonna leave you to clean up and calm down yourself slowly hitting you.

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Andy gets increasingly more worried with each minute that passes since he left you in his room. He doesn't want to bring attention to anything by checking on you though, so he and Jacob start to eat dinner without you.

“Where’s Y/N?”

He wants to kick himself for asking. Why would Jacob know?

“Uh, not sure,” he answers, looking at his phone. “When she gets doing assignments, she doesn't stop. Maybe she had a lot. I'll text her.”

Andy chuckles at that. “You can't walk up a flight of stairs and talk to her in person?”

“Don't wanna bug her,” he shrugs.

You give him an abrupt “no” when you get his text asking if you're going to eat, and you're relieved when he leaves it at that.

Back downstairs, Andy is anything but relieved though. The past half hour plays over and over in his head, each moment dissected as he tries to figure out if he did something wrong.

· · ┈─────── ⋆៹ ✩۪۟۟≭ ───────┈ · ·

Eventually hearing footsteps coming down the hall toward his bedroom, you sink further beneath the blankets you're cuddled up under.

The door opening doesn't faze you, you know it's Andy.

“What are you doing?” A look of concern floods his eyes as they fall on you curled up in his bed.

You don't know if you're trying to convince him or yourself with how quickly you answer, “Nothing.”

Your eyes stay set on your phone in your hand though.

“Okay, uh, Jacob went out…”

“Yeah, he texted me,” you shrug.

“You guys and your texting when you're in the same house,” he snorts. When he doesn't get a similar reaction from you, he knows something’s up. “What's wrong?”

“Sorry–” Your voice cracks and you finally set your phone down.

He swiftly moves to sit on the edge of the bed next to you. “For what?”

“I didn't like it,” you admit. You roll your eyes, not knowing how to even say it. “What we did in the bathroom.”

“Shit, I…” He knew it. “Did I hurt you?”

“No,” you quickly assure him. “No, it's stupid. I like when you're rough with me and I know I asked for it, but you usually, like… hold me afterward, I guess. And I like that.”

His heart breaks. You're still figuring this part of your relationship out with each other, but he feels like shit for making you feel clearly uncomfortable.

“Oh my god.” He carefully lays next to you, a burst of cold air hitting you when he lifts the blankets to get under them with you. He pulls you into his arms though, his body heat making up for it. “That's not stupid. I'm sorry. I should have noticed–”

“You didn't do anything wrong. I should have safe-worded or, or said something when I realized– But it was after the fact. I just didn't like being left alone right away.”

“Shh, shh,” he softly whispers, trying to get you to calm down, stop your over explaining. “We know now. It's okay.”

All you do is nod against his chest, but he can feel you relax a bit too.

“Gonna hold you the rest of night, okay? I'm sorry.”

“It's okay. I’m okay,” you promise, laughing a little. You hug him tighter though. “Thank you.”

· · ┈─────── ⋆៹ ✩۪۟۟≭ ───────┈ · ·

Tag list: @chris-butt @patzammit @denisemarieangelina @thummbelina @pppsssyyyccchhhiiiccc @princess-evans-addict @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @la-cey @turtoix @katiew1973 @harrysthiccthighss @tvckerlance @bluemusickid @rocketrhap3000 @mrspeacem1nusone @murdcox @geminievans1 @doozywoozy @americasass91 @dwights-new-plague @wwwmarissa92 @redhairedfeistynerd @whxre4cevans @aubreeskailynn @white-wolf1940 @melchills-j @xoxabs88xox @just-one-ordinary-fangirl @before-we-get-started @chrissquares @christowhore @ice-dtae @mariestark @justile @rogersbarber @dilfbarber @livstilinski @payperhearts @vintagestarlight @gitasor @chaeycunty @miss-ariella @bemysugarbean @t-stark35 @seitmai @reginaphalange2403 @raelorns21

#andy barber #andy barber x reader #andy barber fanfiction #chris evans x reader #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans smut #andy barber smut #andy barber imagine #chris evans x you

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russellsppttemplates · 6 months

Text

I'm here for you (Lance Stroll)

When you finally let Lance help you, you quickly find out that doing things with his support makes them just that little bit better

Note: english is not my first language. I'm not a doctor, so there are probably some inaccurate informations here, but this is what I know both from reading and from experience. Everyone has different experiences and I wanted to be able to depict that in some way.

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Tw: mentions periods, blood, medical appointments, endometriosis, (in)fertility

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog

"How bad is it?", Lance asked you as you both laid down on the bed, "like a 7, but hopefully the meds will kick in soon", you mumbled, finding a comfortable position in your boyfriend's embrace. "Wake me up if you need anything, okay? I don't want you to be uncomfortable when I can help with something", he said, kissing the top of your head and cuddling you in.

Your period had been acting up again, and while you usually knew what to do and when, this time around all of the tricks you knew seemed lack the hability to soothe you, so to say you were feeling less than fine was an understatement.

Sleeping usually helped, but soon enough you ended up being woken up by a particular sharp pain on your lower belly and lower back, and despite his insistence, you tried your best to get up from the bed to grab something to relieve the pain without making too much noise, not wanting to wake Lance up. Your efforts seemed small, though, because as soon as you got up, It didn't take your boyfriend long before his hand palmed the area where you had been asleep on, "Y/N?", he called, "I just wanted to get something to ease the pain, go back to sleep, love", you whispered, seeing him get up instead.

"I'll get the machine, you just rest, okay?", he said in a both stern and soft way, making you lie back on the bed as he looked for the TENS machine. In one of your appointments, your doctor mentioned that if you had the possibility and the means, you could try the machine as it would help you deal with the pain, and so far it had helped you a great deal.

"Here, sweetheart", Lance helped you with your top and shorts, placing the small circles on either side of your tummy, "is that good?", he said as he regulated the level on the machine, "it's not doing much, if I'm honest", you whimpered, feeling bad because of how much effort your boyfriend was putting in hopes of making you feel better and how little it was working.

"Come here", he nudged you, cuddling you closer to him as his hands traced shapes on yout tummy, "does this hurt?", he asked, "no, you're okay", you mumbled, trying to distract yourself from the intense cramps, "thank you for being here", you kissed the skin near his clavicle, "I'll be here for you, always".

You were in and out of sleep for the whole night, seeing the light seep through the windows slowly as the cramps kept getting stronger again, keeping you up for most of the time.

"Hey you", Lance mumbled, "how are you feeling?", he asked, "I think they're a little bit softer now, or maybe I've become numb to them", you huffed, trying to find a better position when you felt the need to use the toilet, "I'll be back", you said, walking slowly to the bathroom.

The uncomfortable feeling in your underwear was justified by the amount of period blood that had been way heavier than usual this time around, taking you a while to clean up before going back to the bedroom and change your bottoms.

"Did any of it get in the bedding?", you asked Lance, seeing he was already up and looking for something, too, "no, I noticed when you got up and looked for any spots, but the bed is fine", he smiled sadly, "I was thinking we should call your doctor and tell her about this? I've seen really rough cycles you've had and none of them compare to this", Lance reasoned. You had been together for nearly four years and he never saw you in this much pain and discomfort, and adding the fact that you had a good pain threshold, it was concerning him even more.

"I'll send her a text to see if she thinks I need to go somewhere, or at least give me something, and maybe this will help the diagnosis", you mumbled, grabbing your phone and writing a small description of how you had been feeling.

The last set of exams you had got done were already because of some suspicions your doctor had because of how intense your cycles usually were and this may very well be another situation to help you get closer to understanding how your body was working.

"While we wait, I'm going to get us breakfast, okay? I know food is the last thing on your mind, but you'll need to eat", he nodded, kissing your forehead before going downstairs to prepare the food.

You were reading the text your doctor sent you back when Lance entered the room, a tray with tea and toast on it, "she texted me back", you began, "she says that these are all common symptoms and that there isn't much I can do, but that she can get me an appointment for tomorrow because this helps put things into perspective", you shrugged, setting your phone on your bedside table, "I'll go with you", Lance said, helping you sit up so you could eat, "I would usually say that I don't need it, that I can go on my own, but it's not like you would let me anyway, am I right?", you smiled, "but I will actually say that I'm thankful for that and that I love you very much. I'm very lucky to have you with me", you smiled honestly for the first time in a while, "I love you, too, sweetheart".

When the next morning rolled around, Lance drove you both to the appointment, his hand resting where your leg met your hip and rubbing circles. After checking in and grabbing your card so you could go to the lab and let them collect the samples they needed, you went back to the waiting area, Lance sitting in one of the sofas. "Was it okay?", he asked, "yes, the nurse just had to get a blood sample so the doctor can check if everything is fine with that, the scan os inside her office from what she told me", you replied. Just on time like the appointment was scheduled, your name was called and you both got up, Lance lacing his fingers in yours and squeezing it as you entered the office. Greeting you both, your doctor asked you to sit down, "Hello Y/N, Hi Lance, please take a seat", she said, "it seems your pain hasn't been getting any better", she added, letting you carry on.

"I've been managing it just fine like I told you in the last appointment, but this month it was unbearable, I don't think it ever got this bad. Especially around my lower back and lower tummy, definitely never felt like this", you explained.

"I'm just opening your lab results here on the computer", she said, "you remember the possibilities we talked about in our last appointment, and I think we have enough results here that would suggest one of them, which is endometriosis, so I'd like to do another scan to see if there is support to that hypothesis", she nodded to the table.

You set your bag on the chair you were sitting in, moving to lay on your back and lift your shirt up so she could place the gel on your skin, "it's cold, I'm sorry", she smiled apologetically as she grabbed the wand, looking at the screen and frowning. You had been her patient long enough to know her enough to gather that it wasn't good news. Question was: was it bad news because it supported the diagnosis or was it bad because you were back to square one with no idea about what symptoms to look for?

"Do you see these parts here? This is all endometrial tissue that's grown outside of your uterus, which is here", she pointed to the screen, "because you're about on the last day of your period, so your flow is smaller now", she checked and you nodded, "so this, like we spoke about, can be the cause of your symptoms, why you feel so much pain, why your cycles tend to be on the heavier side, also the tiredness, the nausea", the doctor added, now turning to Lance so he could also be involved in her explanation.

After cleaning you up, you sat back in the chair next to Lance, feeling his hand land on your thigh as your doctor typed the results on the computer, "having said this, I'm recommending you a few specialists in this area, so you'll have specific, specialised and personalised care", she offered, "I know this can be a scary moment, but I also want you to see the side where you're finally aware of what is happening in your body and now look for the answers that target it".

"Was there anything that could've prevented this? Are we doing something wrong?", Lance asked, "no, this isn't something you can prevent. Usually, endometriosis is hereditary, and since Y/N mentioned her aunt had some issues getting pregnant and her mother also showed these symptoms, it is most likely that is is genetics", she enlightened, seeing you nod as you squeezed Lance's hand back.

After she went over a few more tricks for your pain management, you and Lance thanked her and walked out to the car, getting inside and fastening your seat belts. "Are you okay, darling?", Lance wondered, not being able to read your expression, which wasn't usual.

"It may sound weird, but I think I've been expecting this. Like, I knew what I had wasn't normal, and after talking to my mother and my aunt, it started to make sense. And then I read things on Google, which I know it's not the best thing, but I did it carefully", you began, "so I was expecting it, I guess. Me and Dr. Marlin have been discussing the possibility, so it wasn't a shock. She was very direct because that's how it has always been and I appreciate her for it", you noted.

"I have to admit she was a bit forward", Lance chuckled lightly, his hand grabbing yours, "but it makes sense now. I want you to know, though, that I'll be here for everything that I can, I want to support you as much as possible", he added.

"It's still something to process, and it's only for sure whenever I go to the next appointments, so I'll just take it in", you answered honestly, smiling at Lance before kissing him, "thank you for always being here".

When you arrived home, you felt your body get even more tired as you changed into comfortable clothes, sensing that as soon as your head hit anything resembling a pillow or a mattress you would fall asleep.

While you slept on the big sofa, Lance was on his phone looking up the best specialists in the area, typing the phone number and email as well as their name in his notes app so you could both discuss it later once you woke up. Even though Dr. Marlin explained a few things about what her suspicions were and you had also told him about them from previous appointments, Lance had to admit he wasn't well-versed in the topic beyond what you had told him, so he did what he thought was best and looked it up on the Internet. Mindful of the websites he was reading, he came across a few ones that seemed legit and that had a simple language and didn't sound too alarming and rather only just wanting to spread knowledge about the topic. They all mentioned your symptoms, gave a brief explanation of what it was and the implications did catch his eye, smoothing his finger over the screen as he locked his phone, hearing you stir in the middle of your sleep.

"Hey, bub", you said, approaching him and craddling his arm, "are you feeling better?", he asked, pressing his lips on the top of your head, seeing you nod.

"I was looking up specialists, and I have a few contacts here, I made a little list", he began, "and I know we should've done this together, but I couldn't help myself, and I was looking up a bit more information because I didn't know about it", he scrambled out, "I was not taught this, I don't think anyone is, but I looked it up, and- yeah, there are doctors for these kinds of things and they seem to know what helps and what to do".

He looked so nervous that you felt you were the one to calm him down and reassure him, "hey, one thing at a time, yes?", you urged, grabbing his hand in yours in an attempt of calming him, "thank you for looking them up, I'll see the list and the ones that fit the situation best", you said.

"Fortunately, we have the means to do this and seek help to make you feel better, for all the options we have", your boyfriend continued, "I sort of fell in the spiral of what it would mean and I want to be with you every step of the way".

"As much as I think this is too much, I can't help but be grateful that we can do it, so I'll let you have this one", you smirked, "and like you said, we'll take it one step at a time".

#lance stroll imagine #lance stroll fanfic #lance stroll fluff #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #lance stroll x reader

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your-nanas-house · 5 months

Note

Y/n and Jackson ripner join the mile high club

Yes yes yes yes yesss. First time writing of Jackson, hope you will like it.

The Mile High Club

◇ Pairing: Jackson Rippner X fem!Reader

◇ Warnings: smut, Jackson, easy collaboration, shitty writing and cheating

◇ Summary: Jackson finds himself as a hostess in a private jet, his target? A young woman who is about to get married but her fiancé isn't there.

◇ Note: Sorry for the mistakes and the English.

There she was, standing in that rich pretty dress of hers, waiting for the crew to set the stairs so that she could enter the private jet.

A jet where Jackson Rippner managed to be in as a part of the hostess there, ready to find the perfect time to work on his plan— which was part of a job he got.

There was just a problem, he was expecting a couple, Mr Gray, and his soon to be wife but there was only the woman there.

That wasn't a big issue though, he could easily manipulate her naive and spoiled self— he just needed to find a moment alone with her.

It took him a while since the other hostess kept moving around her like flying hawks ready to take care of her wishes and mind her business, wanting to know all the juicy details of why she was there all one.

Jackson found it extremely annoying and was kind of amused when he noticed that Y/n herself was finding it bothering but was too polite to say anything— reason because it took her nearly thirty minutes to finally manage to enter the red door down the jet, turning the tag 'don't disturb' to finally have some peace.

It was finally time, Jackson waited a couple of minutes before heading to that door, holding the welcome tray decorated with petals and a wine bottle, two glass on it, a tiny bowl with heart-shaped chocolate and a cup with whipped cream— he found himself almost too mean to bring it to her but it wasn't his fault after all so with a gentle smile he approached the door, ready to know.

That's when the annoying female voice of one of the hostess appeared

"You can't go there" she said, chewing a gum while looking at him, making Jackson nearly role his eyes and insult her— luckily for him he managed to hide it under a friendly poker face.

"Miss—" he started to try to come up with a lie but she interrupted him again

"I know that she didn't asked for it!—" the woman said, moving closer, ready to try to use her pathetic tricks of seduction that made Jackson already gag and rolls his eyes in annoyance.

His patient was running out and that woman was about to see it if she didn't let him enter that damn door.

"Where's my tray?" A more melodious and gentle voice spoke, the both of them turned their head, facing the soon to be Mrs Gray who was peeking out of the door, waiting almost demaindingly, saving and allowing Jackson to enter that room.

Y/n closed the door and locked it with a quick motion of her wrist, her eyes didn't meet Jackson's at first but his met her body for sure.

She headed to the bed and sat down with a soft sigh

"Pretty annoying, aren't they?" She asked, smiling slightly as she finally met his gaze— she had different clothes, a see through red nightgown with matching lingerie, her hair were down and she had a tired expression on her face as she was sitting on a wine red bed, decorated with petals.

There was also a nightstand with a note and lube, decorated also with rose petals, and a small table with a boule full with condoms.

It looked like a honeymoon suite which made the situation even sadder for the young woman but even better for Jackson

"I'm honestly quite surprised to see a man here, serving as an hostess— don't get me wrong, there's nothing bad in it but my soon to be husband prefers...women. Do you like strawberries?" She commented, her eyes on him as she waited his replay.

Jackson rested the tray on the table and with a polite smile he nodded, his eyes looking at her in an almost predatory way while replying "I do" implying more with his traveling eyes.

With that he found himself deep balls inside of her, his mouth against her shoulder as he bite hard to leave a mark on her as his hips kept nearly drilling inside her cunt.

Her boobs kept bouncing at each thrusts, her head was throw back and her mouth was open, letting exquisite moans leave her whole body.

Y/n's arms kept holding into Jackson's hair and shoulders for dear life

"Harder" she begged, moaning his name when her legs caged him there, making him thrusts even deeper.

It was just when Jackson grabbed her throat that she switched roles, holding him down while bouncing on his hard thick cock as if she was coming from a western

"I know you seek more" she breathed out, slowing her pace, starting just to roll her hips to find her own pleasure

"My fiancé would never let a man work in one of his private jets, expecially one like this" she cleared, biting her bottom lip as Jackson kneaded roughly her breasts

"Smart girl, I honestly thought that your intelligence matched your beauty but I was wrong apparently" he murmured, positioning his legs better, to have a better support to start to thrusts in an animalistic way inside of her tight pussy, making her bounce effortless.

"I need the passwords of your fiancé's apartment and alarm system and I need you to make him go to the house" he revealed, his hips still snapping up, her hands on his pale chest

"That's not a problem—" Y/n said, letting out a moan

"I can give them to you but..." she added, 'Of course there was a but' Jackson thought, ready to prepare some other way to make her speak.

Y/n simply moved off him, earning a soft grunt from Jackson, she lied next to his body and pulled him closer, making him thrusts again as he nearly spooned her

"I want to know the real reasons" she said and he told her, his hips rocking back and forth making his cock move inside of her— and even after what he said she started to write down things on the note that her fiancé left her.

Jackson kept looking from her shoulder, his hands on her hips.

As soon as she finished and passed him the note he manhandled her, making her go on all four for him so that he could take her roughly while checking if she was telling the truth.

She actually told him the truth, the hate she had for her fiancé was stronger that he thought and it helped him for sure so he rewarded her with orgasms and his sticky cum inside of her cunt.

Taglist:

@gabile18 , @mrsfullbuster500 , @rex-ray , @elizamalfoyy, @eovjjj , @wife-of-magic-monkeys , @jeremiah-va1eska , @gothamchic16, @rabbiteggz , @dieg0brandos-wife , @rottenecstasy , @lazyexcuse , @teh-vampire-bunny , @lobotomy-lover , @slasher-smasher , @sleepycreativewriter , @mrkdvidal1989

#jackson rippner #jackson rippner x reader #jackson rippner x you #jackson rippner x y/n #cillian murphy fanfic #cillian fic #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy fic #cillian murphy #cillian x fem!reader #cillian x y/n #cillian x reader

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little-miss-dilf-lover · 8 days

Note

Hi!!

I don't know if you've already done something like this(if so you can skip this), but I'm curious how you think Tangerine would comfort his partner who downplays their own pain because of how easily he handles his own.

Have a great day hun! Yer so wonderful <3

hii bb!! omg I love it!! thank you for requesting, hope you like it angel💌

READER THAT DOWNPLAYS PAIN AROUND TAN.

sooo im thinking..

there is no fooling this guy, nothing gets past him. and I do think that he often knows things about you before you even know them yourself/ or without you having to say anything. like that mf just knows you so well it's literally disgusting

it doesn't matter what kind of pain it is. he just knows. cramps? migraine? bad back? earache? broken nail? sore throat? tummy ache? anything. and no matter how well you hide it (or think you do) he'd still notice it. it could be a subtle face pull or an uncomfortable noise when you move - he'd know

starts with an "alright?" and if you don't reply properly, it goes to a "hm?" but he can tell when you lie, so he'd try again. "what's up with you? you okay?"

and bc i love this shit, you do a quick nod and then pull a face immediately after bc the motion caused you more pain. and then he comes closer and says "liar," he's gentle with you, eyes scanning you, sorta thing. "what's the matter? what hurts?" then you reluctantly tell him the source of your pain. then he says "should've told me right away, you div," (btw it sounds like he's talking hatefully, but he's really not, I promise. he's being sternly affectionate (maybe it's an english thing?))

he has the answers to your problems, all you need to do is tell him and he'll have the trick. bag of frozen peas as a compress? his special work kit of plasters and bandages? really fucking good painkillers from his secret work stash? heating and cooling pads?

and while he's helping you with the issue, he's next to you, touching some part of you - arm, hand, knee and he'd ask you why you couldn't tell him straight away, and you say how you were embarrassed or something about how he's always in pain, and you didn't want him to think you were being a baby

he shushes you, telling you that's not true. he never wants you to shy away and downplay your pain. he wants to know how you're feeling. "you tell me right away next time, yeah? no more of this high and mighty shit," then he kisses you bc he's cute like that, and waits/cuddles with you until the pain has subsided. "when you hurt, I hurt. let me help you." (fucking kill me)

#tangerine #tangerine x reader #tangerine bullet train #tangerine headcanon #tangerine fluff

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fangsandfracturedhearts · 1 month

Text

Fangs and Fractured Hearts

Chapter 12: Catharsis

Summary: You helped Astarion complete the Rite of Profane Ascension and become the Vampire Ascendant. You agreed to become his spawn soon after. Once the Netherbrain was defeated, Astarion claimed the Szarr Palace, renaming it the Crimson Palace, for himself and set about his plans of domination.

Word Count: 6.3k

Pairing: Ascended Astarion x female!Tav Spawn

Warnings: [Will try to continue to add more, but in general expect explicit content for mature audiences]

Possible spoilers. Eventual Explicit Content. Slow Burn. Thoughts of Suicide. Violence. Blood. Injury. Mature Content. Self-Harm. Mentions of in-game content. Completely fabricated camp events.

If you notice a very critical tag missing, please don't hesitate to let me know

Rating: Explicit 18+ - [Meant For Mature Audience}

"Then say it, Astarion,” she urges him. Her lower lip trembles. She unconsciously bites it to quell the movement. A single fang peeks out and glints in the sunlight, white as the purest snow. “Open the bond and say it.”

“I…I-” he trails off with a rasp and cracking voice. The words are lodged in his esophagus and anchored on the tip of his tongue. That presence in his mind tugs at his psyche, grappling for control. It speaks its ethereal omens. “ She will be your end. She spins her web of destruction even now. When she snares you, she will crush you in her grasp, and when you finally break, I will be there to claim you once again." He grimaces at the ill-portent and cedes, “Perhaps you are right. This is a conversation better had at home.”

She nods, crestfallen and stares at the lake with a longing look that he does not like to see upon her face. It’s the look of defeat. All hope is lost and withered away. She yearns for stillness and obscurity to quiet her mind. Yes, he knows the expression inlaid on her features well.

Is he putting her in further danger if he says it? Could the voice in his head be speaking truths?

He’s said it before. What stops him?

Is it a lie? He is no liar.

He said it before….

He said it….

Gods. It’s hard to think clearly with this tittering in his head, defiling his thoughts with its blighted ballad. The presence screams that she is a threat. She has cast some sort of spell on him. “A trick!” It chimes, “A clever, beautiful trick by a clever, beautiful sorceress. She means to unravel you! She means to break you apart, crumble you into pieces and dance on your ashes!”

She would not do such a thing. Would she? Could she? He has used his beauty to mislead many in the past centuries. Is it possible she is doing the same? She cannot scourge him physically, but mentally… well, that is a fate far worse than even death.

She would not trick him. She need not trick him. He already lov-

Hells below, he cannot even think it, let alone say it aloud.

He can force her. He can make her his with naught but a thought. She already belongs to him. He can pull her strings and make her dance, a puppet upon his world stage because he is the Vampire Ascendant, and he can take anything he pleases.

No. He grimaces at the sadistic notion and how good and powerful it makes him feel. His thoughts become contorted and serpentine too easily these days, a pit of snakes twisting themselves into tangled knots.

She wants something real. She deserves something real, but what in the Hells does real look like? Is it supposed to be like in the silly stories he’s read? Surely not. Those are just a conglomerate of lovely words, trussed into pretty lies that the eyes can view.

He hears them before he sees them. They stand idle in the shadows, trying to hide their heartbeats behind the thundering hoofs of the horses and the wind whipping through the trees. They do not smell like powdered iron-vine.

They are learning.

They should not know he is here, but he does not have time to ruminate on it. His heart detonates in his chest, leaping around like a frightened bird in a cage. The presence in his head serenades him, pulling at its chains, pleading to be unleashed. He needs to get her away from here, from them and himself, before he sinks.

“Run!” He commands.

She hesitates, her pouty lips set into a hard line while she scowls at him and protests his commands. She draws the Weave. It shimmers around her like a vapour in the air. She is beautiful.

She challenges him at every damn turn. He loves it. He loves her for it.

He loves her…

She will not leave of her own accord. Even if he begs, an army cannot make her leave his side, and he knows it. He knows what he must do, but he does not wish to do it. Taking her control from her, forcing her into servitude, the idea used to thrill him. When did that stop?

Yet, he will always do what he must, even if it pains him as he has always done.

He confiscates her control, “Run to the manor as fast as you can and stay there until I return. You will stop for no one and nothing.”

She’s going to berate him later for this, but at least she will be alive to admonish him.

She sprints, and he summons every werewolf, every bat, and every ghoul he can, “Follow her!” He sends several away as the hunters rush him. He parries and dodges, sinking his blades into ribs, necks, and chests. “Protect her at all costs. Signal me when she is out of the forest and return here.”

Gods, his head hurts as he’s torn, the rattling of chains in his head splitting his concentration, but he must make sure she makes it out before he can give in and be overtaken. What will he lose this time? Whenever he drowns, something is stolen from him - a memory becomes snapped and riven like looking into a broken mirror, another part of the real him lost.

Once he hears the baying signal, he lets go and allows himself to be consumed, and all is black, black, black.

Shadowheart tugs on your limbs and clothes, wrapping her arms around your waist and heaving with all her strength. Her voice resounds, but it sounds like a faint, distant whisper, like the sigh of a weary breeze over barren plains. You feel like you’re staring at yourself from a distance. Fatigued, faded and lusterless, you’re a relic of what was and what could have been, just another corpse littering the earth. The skyline is the indigo and blue hues of impending dawn, and the stars no longer stare down on this tragedy as they wink out like eyes shutting against an unexpected bright light. When the sun rises, you will float away and be forgotten in the sands of time.

You were so close. Gods, so fucking close. In the end, Astarion had been right. Love hailed itself a saviour and became your destroyer.

“The sun is rising,” Shadowheart pants, panicked as she tries to pry your fingers from their clutch on Astarion, but they might as well be fused to him. “We don’t have a second longer to lose.”

Each time you blink, a new memory appears and plays in your mind’s eye. Some good. Some bad. Some terrible. Is this what they mean when people say your life flashes before your eyes at death? The reliquary opens, and your hopes, dreams and broken pieces are laid before you to gaze upon.

“Astarion would not want this!” Shadowheart raves, agitation and dread, making her voice tremble. She shakes your shoulders and hauls on them. “He would not want you to die!”

I am already dead.

The first thin golden strings of the newborn sun weave their way through the trees, a grand lace of radiant light that falls upon your pearlescent, colourless skin. Shadowheart screams, her heartbeat pounds in your ears, her blood a tidal wave through her veins as she tries to cocoon you with her body and limbs so the light cannot consume you.

“I’ve got her, Shadowheart,” Astarion’s faint voice charges the air. “I’ve always got her.”

You barely catch it, another whispering flutter in the air, but his chest shudders underneath you, and you’re plunged into your body. Your eyes snap to his, which are open in a hairline split. Crismon barely peeks through behind thick lashes, but somehow, you know he’s looking straight at you.

You grab his hands, interlocking your fingers with his, “Astarion?”

He does not answer, but his fingers twitch, and his grip tightens, if only by a barely perceivable fragment.

Shadowheart clambers, her hands glowing the baby blue hue of her magic so brightly that she could rival the sun as she focuses every morsel of power she has left. She slams her splayed hands onto Astarion’s chest with a thump that makes him wheeze and cough, and he’s bathed in vivid blue.

“You’re not burning.” Shadowheart’s chest swells and recedes like waves over a storm-tossed ocean with exertion, “Is he?”

Astarion stills again, eyes closed. Yet, you do not burn as the rays of light prance over your skin. Your ears perk and quiver as they catch the faint, feeble beating in his chest.

You smile at Shadowheart and throw your arms around her, “His heart beats. He lives. Thank you, Shadowheart. Good Gods, thank you.”

You sit cross-legged on the bed beside Astarion and fixate on him. Shadowheart helped you get him home and into bed, but he’s still not stirred more than some muttering and twitching in his sleep in three days. You’ve not left his side to sleep or eat, and you’re getting hungry. Very hungry. Shadowheart refuses to leave despite your insistence that she is not safe with you. With each passing second, it gets harder and harder to ignore her presence. Astarion’s heartbeat is of no concern to you, but hers… good Gods. Hers sounds like a culinary delight being offered to a starving ogre. You forgot how hard it was to be around the living with their delicious-smelling blood and beating hearts, begging to be tasted.

I’m a monster.

Shadowheart knocks and lets herself into Astarion’s bedroom. She yawns and stretches. You can hear her bones cracking and grimacing at the sound assaulting your ears, “Still nothing?”

“No,” you mumble, clutching fistfuls of bedsheets to stop yourself from scratching your skin in front of her. “His heart sounds stronger and beats more rhythmically, but he hasn’t woken.”

Shadowheart nods toward him, “May I?”

She’s been continuing to heal him every day as much as she can until she needs to sleep and recuperate. You’re surprised she’s putting so much effort into helping him. You thought she hated him, but there is worry etched into the lines of her expression and sadness you did not think you would see, at least when it came to him. You push yourself against a wall, splaying your hands against the wood. You cannot let her get too close to you. You are dangerous. Being a vampire spawn has not been as easy as Astarion made it look. Although, it is substantially less difficult when you’re well-fed.

“Go ahead,” you nod at Shadowheart with a small smile, “but always be wary of me. I cannot be trusted.”

She scoffs, laying a hand on Astarion and reciting incantations in a repeating melody, “You lived with me for a year, and you only tried to kill me once. I trust you. You have better control than you believe, but I will be on guard.”

You wince at the memory. It had been only a few weeks into living with Gale and Shadowheart after they found you in the sewers, starving, writhing and feral with hunger. Astarion had made being a spawn look easy. He could be around blood and gore, and it barely seemed to affect him, but you learned quickly that it was not as simplistic as that. Shadowheart and Gale could not understand why you would not leave your room or why you barricaded yourself in there with every spare piece of furniture you could. One night, you had ventured down, and Shadowheart had been cooking after having had quite enough of Gale’s dry and tasteless food. She nicked herself with a knife chopping vegetables. A small wound, but the blood in the air sent you into a feeding frenzy, blacking out everything but that delicious sanguine tang and you had lunged at her. Gale cast sleep on you before you could bite. Shadowheart laughed it off, but it was a wake-up call to you.

You are dangerous. You cannot be trusted, and you cannot trust yourself. Bloodlust overrides everything else far too easily.

Shadowheart’s magic washes over him again but with little noticeable effect, and she frowns at her palms as if somehow it’s her fault.

“He’s improving,” you assure her, disheartened by her sullen look. “Every time, he improves. His heart beats stronger.”

She clenches her fist with a nod and a grin, walking over to the chair at the other end of the room. She gives you once over and states, “You’re hungry.”

You swallow hard, crawl onto the bed and place your hand on his chest. You can feel his heartbeat in your palm, and it comforts you, “Yes. I’m very hungry,” you don’t bother trying to conceal it. “You should leave Shadowheart. I know you mean well, and I am grateful for all your help, but I am not Astarion. I do not have the control he does.”

“He keeps you well fed,” she points at Astarion. It’s not a question, and you cock your head at her, “You were skin and bones when you left, but you’re looking healthy again. You’re looking like yourself. I imagine you’ve not gotten much better at hunting, so he must do it for you.”

Your fingers curl into him, “He’s trying to teach me,” you laugh lowly for the first time in days. “He says I’m atrocious. I believe he called it an affront to the gods themselves,” you try to mimic his voice while rolling your eyes. “He takes me out every night, usually.”

“What’s wrong with him?” Shadowheart’s brows pinch. “You said you didn’t have time to explain it, but we have nothing but time while we wait on him. Gods. Is he always this lazy?”

She’s trying to cheer you up, and you giggle at her. You’ve missed her. Shadowheart was not overly pleased when you showed up as a spawn, but she accepted it when you told her it was what you wanted. Shadowheart has been the only one, other than Astarion, who you can be brutally honest with regarding your morbid urges.

“He always did enjoy his beauty sleep,” you shrug with a giggle, and she grins. “The Rite had more consequences than we assumed,” you sigh, “Not entirely surprising. As for what exactly, I cannot be sure yet, but I think it would be best if he tells you himself - if he wants to.”

“I understand. If he allows it, I will help any way I can,” she nods. She will not pry because she would want the same choice if it were her, and you would never give away her secrets, just as you refuse to give away his, “You need not be alone in this.”

Hells below. Shadowheart never fails you.

“I could hug you right now, Shadowheart.” You smile, fangs bared, because you do not need to hide from her, “But can we perhaps wait until I’ve eaten and you’re not looking so godsdamn delicious?”

“I’ll have you know that I am as delicious as you are pale. I will have to tell Astarion to get you out into the sun more often,” she giggles as you groan. You’ve had enough sun for a while after your last dalliance with it, “I will take the hug when you’re feeling less peckish. I like my blood in my veins.”

Peckish is an understatement. You could eat a bear, or two, or three, or perhaps an army of them right now. Those hunger cramps and spasms in your muscles are starting to make themselves known and hard to control. Your mouth is a salivating spring, and you have to swallow excessively lest you drool. If Astarion does not wake soon, you will have to push Shadowheart out with physical force if she does not heed your warnings.

“You really should think about going home, Shadowheart,” you urge with a plea that wobbles your intonation. Your hand hovers over bandaged wounds. The superficial ones healed long ago, but these. Gods. Any of these would have killed a mortal man instantly, and he has several, “Astarion just needs time to heal, I think.”

Shadowheart’s eyes flash with that pig-headed defiance you’ve come to know, and she sniffs, “I’m not leaving until he wakes,” she smirks as you grumble under your breath at her, “Is there anything you can tell me about what is going on with him?”

“I know this will be a challenge for you,” you smirk at her with a knowing glower, “But when he wakes, try not to make him angry. You two have always been like cats and dogs, but try not to push him too far. When he gets angry…. Well, let’s say he is not himself.”

“Don’t make him angry?” Shadowheart scoffs, crossing her arms and turning her nose up with a brashly twisted mouth, “Gods. That will be quite the task. He can be exceptionally insufferable.”

“I heard that.” Astarion grumbles, clicking his tongue while opening his eyes sluggishly, “I am a positively magnificent bastard, aren’t I?”

“Astarion!” You nosedive into him, wrapping your arms around him and basking in the warmth of his skin.

“Well, hello, little love,” he purrs comfortingly. His arm wraps around you and compresses you against his chest with his nose in your hair. He thrusts you back with one arm and scans you, “You are alright?”

“Me!?” You fight the overwhelming desire to shake him. He’s just woken up, and he’s asking about you? “You stupid, foolish idiot! When you are on your feet, you and I need to talk.”

He chuckles, running his fingers through your hair, “I expected as much.”

Shadowheart stands, “I hate to break this up, but may I?”

She gestures to Astarion, and you nod, pulling out of Astarion’s grip with a reluctance that makes your skin crawl. Astarion arches a brow at your retreat. Shadowheart’s magic infuses his skin, healing him slightly further, and he looks at her confused.

“Thank you for taking care of her, Astarion,” Shadowheart emphasizes with a genuine smile. “She’s looking well. I owe you gratitude for that. She would not tell me what’s happened to you, but I would like to help if I can - if you will accept it. I don’t need your answer now, but think about it.”

“Uh,” Astarion is taken aback by Shadowheart’s authentic appreciation, but he recovers his detached mask quickly. “You’re welcome,” he says cooly, “I will think on your request. Please tell me this does not make us,” he cringes, “friends.”

Shadowheart scoffs, “Gods, no!”

“Good,” Astarion giggles. “I do positively enjoy our squabbling, after all.”

Astarion’s eyes swing to you, pressed against the wall as if you’re trying to melt into it. Your jaw is clenched hard, teeth rasping. Try as you might, you cannot hide the discomfort you’re feeling, and you look away from him, uncomfortable under his penetrating gaze. He will recognize bloodlust.

Astarion pushes himself upright, “How long have I been out? Please tell me she’s at least tried to eat.”

Shadowheart answers before you do, “Three days and no. She has not left your side,” she points at you with a scowl, “Despite my insistence that she do so. You know how stubborn she can be.”

“Hells below.” Astarion is out of bed before you or Shadowheart can comprehend what’s happened, and he pulls you close to him with a tight grip on your waist, “I thank you for your assistance, Shadowheart, truly, but you should leave. It’s not safe for you to be around her. I will think about your offer and walk you out.”

Shadowheart puts her hand up with a shake of her head, “That is unnecessary. I can show myself out. Take care of her, Astarion. Do not make me regret saving your hide.”

Astarion chuckles, “I can only promise I will take care of her. You have my word."

Shadowheart smiles at you, “I will be expecting that hug once you’re feeling better.”

The shattered glass crunches under your feet as you walk through the shambles of what remains of the mirrors, vases and paintings you ravaged. Little pieces of mirror reflect the candlelight, spraying it in a flickering array across the walls and ceiling like a conglomerate of stars. Your fingers tremble over the curtains, but the anguish is fresh in your mind, and you can’t get yourself to open them. It feels grave to be away from Astarion, even though he’s upstairs, and you keep your hearing trained on his heartbeat, afraid that if you don’t, it might arrest.

With a sigh, you bend down and start to collect the broken fragments of the mirror that spurns your existence and remains empty despite your fingers gripping the surface. You breathe on the glassy surface. You know nothing will happen, but for a reason unknown to you, the refusal to acknowledge you sways you in a sudden grip on anger. You squeeze it, and the sharp edges slice into your fingers. Blood wells up, gliding and smearing on the surface, and you grin as if you’ve forced the damn thing to accept you are real.

“Decided to do a little redecorating, I see,” Astarion chuckles, arching a brow at the mess.

You whirl, compressing the pieces of mirror in your hand so hard they start to buckle and splinter further. You want to berate him for sending you away, screaming at him for compelling you and scolding him for dying and almost leaving you alone for eternity, but once your eyes meet his, the anger is washed away by relief. He’s alive, and for now, that’s all that matters.

I have an eternity to chastise him for being an idiot.

“Sorry.” It’s the best you can do.

Astarion walks toward you, and even though the floor is littered with rubble, his footsteps still make no sound. His fingers slip down your arm to the hand that’s clutching those broken pieces, blood still rolling down the surface.

“It’s okay, little love.” He coos, taking the fragments from you and letting them fall back to the floor. He kisses your blood-smeared fingers, “It was all horrific. Wasn’t it? We can redecorate.”

We?

Gods. He talks as if nothing has happened, and it vexes you, but you slip your arms around him, push your ear to his chest, and enjoy that steady and strong beat almost stolen from you.

Astarion kisses your temple, then forehead and then tilts your head up and moulds his lips to yours in a lingering kiss before pulling back and scowling at you. His voice is coarse and booming, “What you did in the forest was bloody stupid! What in the Hells were you thinking? You would have burned to death had Shadowheart’s damn wailing not roused me.”

“You don’t get to lecture me on stupidity.” You push him away and meet his ire with your own. “You should not have sent me away! I could have helped.”

“It’s not your problem,” he shakes his head.

“Oh, Gods,” you scoff at him, fingers curling into fists at your side, “Not this bullshit again! Your problems are my problems. When will you learn that?”

“No.” He hisses, “I failed you once, and the Gur nearly killed you. I will not fail you again.”

“You imbecile!” You scream, starting to weep, and you put your hand on a wall to keep yourself steady as the leaden weight of everything that’s happened descends, “You died! You were dead! You… you almost left me here all alone.”

The blaze of anger in his eyes winks out, sterilized by grief. Astarion’s brows rise, and the corners of his mouth turn down, “Oh, love, no.”

Astarion’s arms fold around you as your knees give out, and he braces you against him with a hand at the back of your head. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles with his lips against your forehead.

You almost want to push him away, to give yourself some distance, because you are falling too hard, too fast, but he guides your head up, and warm ruby eyes unite with yours. The connection with him croons the invitation to open, and you don’t hesitate to answer. Everything floods in a downpour. All your nerves, synapses, and neurons buzz with the efflux of information. You squeeze your eyes shut as your body attempts to orient itself. You inhale several shaky breaths as his heart beats inside your chest. It’s uncomfortable, but Hells, you will gladly take that pain.

The flood eases and becomes pleasant, languid streams that cross softly, slowly, and you are one. You are whole. You are complete.

Before you can open your eyes again, you feel Astarion’s lips ghost over yours, and you part them for him in a gasp as you feel his desire ignite. A raw, almost feral passion, unbridled and uninhibited. It’s so potent it’s intoxicating, and your yearning bursts and throbs between your thighs. Astarion kisses you with ferocity, and his tongue darts into your mouth. His taste is rich, deep and dark, and you moan as you drink him in. His fingers slip into your hair at the back of your neck, holding you firmly while he pushes your back against the wall. He grinds his hips into you with a resonating growl as he pins you.

Good Gods. With the connection to him open, you feel everything. His pleasure. Your pleasure. All brimming and teeming as one ocean of bliss you’re going to drown in. Without his smooth skin against yours, you feel painfully bare, and you rip open his shirt, flinging buttons askew. Astarion slips your dress from your shoulders with a smug smirk and lustfully hooded eyes, and it pools at your feet as Astarion lets his shirt fall.

Pushing yourself against him, you sigh with a pining whimper. He feels pure and warm as sunshine, and he is the light that parts the gloom of sorrow that has clutched your heart for the past few days.

Astarion parts your folds, spreading them and stroking the slickness. He is not slow this time. He is not teasing. He is feverish in his need for you. The pads of his fingers find your aching center, swollen with want, and quickly settle into a rhythm that makes your body twitch and spasm with white-hot pleasure, making you arch off the wall. You moan loud and animalistic, whimpering his name like a verse that’s stuck in your head, and his throat steals your moans with his lips on yours as if he can taste the euphoria in your cries.

Tension coils in your belly, and Astarion moans deep and velvety smooth as you crest and dissolve for him. He doesn’t waste a moment. You can feel his urgency from the connection, and it makes you just as rabid. You need to feel him stretching you, massaging your walls, making you his.

With a quick snap of his wrist, his trousers are below his hips. His cock is hard and yearning, twitching in the candlelight. Astarion grips your thighs, wrapping your legs around his waist, and he buries himself into you with one quick thrust.

The pleasure is so intense, either his or yours or maybe it’s both combined, you do not know, but you clench around him so hard he hisses when he inhales and groans, bracing himself with his forearm on the wall as if he might fall over.

“F-fuck,” he pants. He pulls out slowly and slams back into you with a snap of his hips. “Tell me you love me,” he commands with another pump, plunging himself deeper.

Your ears barely perceive the words he’s saying while you sink into your mind-numbing ecstasy, but you know what he wants intuitively, “I love you,” you whimper, lacing your fingers into his soft curls.

Astarion’s pace increases, uncontrolled and more frantic, as he rears his hips back and drives into you. He pushes himself as close as he can possibly get while he pumps his into you.

“Again,” he instructs huskily as he finds a pace that snares all your senses. “Say it again.”

“I love you,” you breathe, panting, bucking your hips to push against his thrusts, rolling them in the way you know drives him crazy. “I love you. I love you. I love you,” you repeat a whispering hymn.

Every nerve quivers in bliss, and your eyes roll back. You clench, gripping his cock tighter and tighter with every thrust.

“Come,” he growls the command darkly.

Your lips crash into his as you comply, your body submitting to his influence. It feels like a dream to obey, and you crash into your orgasm like a wave crashing upon a rocky shore. You cry out, fingers raking his skin, thighs squeezing him as you’re cast upon that shore time and time again.

“Good girl,” he purrs. His hips stutter as the tremors massage his girth. “Again,” he barks with a groan, his breath hitching as he plunges into you erratic and needy.

Every pump of his hips is an ode to possession. Every twitch of his cock is a chorus of control. Every time he drives you to your peak is a sonnet to claim.

He owns you. You belong to him. You are his.

Yes, take me and make me yours.

You don’t know if they are your thoughts or his, but you hear his answer in your mind as it drifts on the slipstream of your bond.

“I will.”

Good Gods. Astarion means to make you shatter around him over and over until your body cannot possibly splinter any further. He means to take, take and take until you have nothing left to give, and even then, he means to take more.

And he does.

The smell of Honeysuckle, Vanilla and brandy is heavy and prevalent, arousing you gently back to your senses. Your eyes remain closed with lingering fatigue. The muscles in your body ache with an obnoxiously constant pang, and you groan and grumble under your breath at the sensation. There’s a serene tranquillity rife that you cannot quite explain, like a peaceful and undisturbed pond. You’re warm as if swaddled in a blanket made of sunlight.

Sunlight. Sun…

No. You should not be in the sun!

Your eyes snap open, and you flounder, graceless and clumsy. Steam rises all around you, and water swooshes and splashes over the sides of a ceramic-tiled tub, splashing against the floor.

“Easy, love,” Astarion chuckles, pulling you against his chest to stop your inelegant lumbering. “You’re alright.”

Your head quirks up, and your eyes meet his gaze. Candlelight treads and sways in the sanguine sea, and kindness coruscates, making them radiate softly.

You blink, and your hand slices through the water, “What in the Hells?”

“A bath,” he grins handsomely, sweeping wet strands of hair from your cheek and behind your ear tenderly. His fingers trace your jaw, “Apologies. I may have gotten a little… carried away.”

Carried away is one word for it, I suppose.

“Oh,” he giggles, beautiful and lighthearted, as careless as a child at play. It makes you smile. You came so close to never hearing that sound again. “And what’s the other word for it?”

Shit. He’s still in my head.

“Yes,” he kisses your temple, hugging you tighter. His fingers skim across your skin comfortingly, “I am still in your head as you are in mine.”

“You put me in a bath?” You arch your brow at him.

“It was necessary,” he smirks arrogantly. “I made quite a mess of you.”

Astarion reaches down, his fingers parting your folds, and you jump, confused at what exactly his goal is. “Relax,” he purrs. “This is not about sex.” His fingers rub over you gently, washing you and easing that soreness his enthusiasm caused. His feelings of affection and genuine, thoughtful compassion roll through the connection. “Unless you wish to go for round four? Or was it five? Or six? I could be persuaded.”

You groan and slump down further into the bath. Despite your exhaustion, your body responds to his touch as it always does, fire igniting within your stomach and desire making your skin prickle.

“Good Gods, Astarion,” you mumble with a sigh. “No more.”

“I thought not.” Astarion lathers his hands with soap and starts washing your arms, chest and back. He massages your stiff muscles with perfect pressure.

Should I be angry with him?

“Oh, don’t be sour,” he tsks, clicking his tongue and nuzzling your cheek. “You enjoyed yourself. I felt it. I felt it every godsdamn time. I almost couldn’t contain myself. You’re lucky I have such excellent control. That would undo a lesser man immediately.”

“You are full of yourself, aren’t you?” You laugh. Astarion’s cheerful mood is infectious, and you can’t help but feel a little bubbly with happiness yourself.

He shrugs, “Can you truly blame me? I am rather impressive.”

“I think it’s me that’s impressive,” you smirk with a wolfish grin, “If the exultant Vampire Ascendant could barely contain himself.”

“Sassy girl,” he tuts with a chuckle. “You are inconceivably enchanting. Even with an eternity, I could never get enough of all this.” He gestures over your body with seductive eyes but becomes more serious, “And whatever this is, between us, I could never tire of it, my love.”

My love…

The words descend in your mind, slow and tortuous like a feather falling from a great height. He does not love you. He said as much himself, and his silence and reluctance when you pressed him only cemented that. Yet, his actions speak different words, and his thoughts and feelings that you can feel utter different syllables. You don’t know which language to believe.

“I do,” his answer floats in your head, not out of his mouth.

You push away from him, whirling around in the enormous tub, splashing additional water over the edges. You need to see him, be able to watch and look in his eyes. His brows furrow in confusion, and he looks at the swaying water, “At least, I think I do.”

“What happened downstairs was not love. You want to possess me, control me and claim me. You want me to belong to you. I felt it,” you frown. It’s all so godsdamned confusing. “You craved ownership, not a partner. Is that love to you?”

Astarion’s eyes widen, and his hand reaches for you, but you bat it away, and he stops his advance. You need distance if you have any hope of keeping your wits about you.

“You want to be taken and claimed. You want to be mine,” he snarls, but there’s a sorrow weaved in between that choler. “I felt it. I heard it. I do not understand why you deny yourself these truths. Why do you continue to fight me?”

He’s clever, always able to take your questions, skirt them artfully and turn them around on you, but you know his tricks. He’s partly correct. You do want to be his, to belong, but you do not want to be owned and controlled.

“You didn’t answer the question, Astarion.” You retort bluntly, narrowing your eyes at him.

You have to tread carefully over these hot coals. If you challenge him too much, you’re likely to be reacquainted with his anger made flesh.

Astarion takes a deep breath, calming himself and smoothing his severe expression, “I already admitted I got carried away and caught up in the intensity of the moment. Sometimes, my thoughts become twisted. What more do you want me to say?”

You can accept that sometimes his thoughts are out of his control. You’ve heard the chittering yourself, and it’s like a flesh-eating infection that grazes upon contemplations. If you want him to continue being open, you must be able to withstand his darkness.

You can and you will because you must.

Always the lovesick hero.

“You know what I want you to say,” you whisper with a tear glistening in the corner of your eye. You know he won’t say it. You can feel his aversion as if it were your own.

“I can’t,” Astarion says flatly. He does not offer a reason. His fingers comb through his hair, and he shudders as if ice was suddenly thrust upon his warm skin. “You want something real? I’m not entirely sure what real looks like, but I will try. For you, I will try. But I cannot say what you’re asking right now.”

“Then I think this conversation is over,” you growl bitterly while climbing out of the bath.

Water drips down your body as you wrap yourself in one of the plush towels. You can feel his pain through the bond, and it’s tearing you apart on the inside, but you cannot fathom being his pet. You are not an object to be owned and flaunted, and no matter how badly you want him, you cannot allow him to treat you as such.

He does not speak as you walk away, your feet leaving wet marks across the floor. You don’t turn when you speak. You cannot see the sorrow reflected in his eyes, “And Astarion, if you ever compel me like that again, I will walk out and never return.”

His answer is calculated and numb, “I will do what is necessary to protect you.”

“Then you better be ready to lose me,” you snarl. “I am not an object you can wield when it suits your needs and put away when you’ve finished with me.”

“So be it,” he concludes quickly.

This time, you close the door in your head, although you’re reluctant to do so as you tread the hall back to your room. You are hollow once again, but you fill the void with hatred. You will find out how the Gur knew of your whereabouts and descend on the wings of death.

You know exactly where to start.

Elowyn.

Big thank you for everyone who takes the time to read/reblog/comment, and all the other magnificent things. As always, I hope you enjoy this, darlings!

AO3 [Crossposted]

Master List of Chapters: Fangs and Fractured Hearts

If you're interested I write another fic with Spawn Astarion x Tav called - Shadows of the Past

Small Notes:

I felt terrible for the cliffhanger, so I spent much of my free time writing this week so I could keep mostly on schedule :)

#astarion fanfic #ascended astarion #bg3 #astarion x you #bg3 astarion #bg3 fanfiction #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion #astarion smut

105 notes · View notes

klaustozier · 8 months

Text

demon ; nijiro murakami ver.

SUMMARY: you are a demon hunter and one of this demons is very different from what you are used to.

warnings: demon!Nijiro x fem!reader; Nijiro is 190cm or 6'2 (i think you can write it like this); big!cocks, that's it cocks, two dicks; double penetration; he has tentacles 😳 (no, he won't fuck you with them); his eyes are black and his canines and lateral incisors are pointed; I'm out of my mind; praise kink; degradation kink; fingering; play with nipples; hanging; oral on you (his tongue grows); there will be no condom use (but you know you should, please don't do this to me and use a condom); double penetration; cum inside.

english is not my first language, i'm sorry for any mistakes

word count: 1,7k

i'm sorry for taking so long.

enjoy.

The creature was trapped in a metal chair, chained to the floor. You should have already killed him, but you couldn't. Because you thought he was handsome. You felt so stupid, just because his face was pretty didn't mean you should spare him.

You were a demon hunter and prevented them from harming humans, so you had to kill him. But what about that brunette hair? And that pretty nose? And that jaw? And those lips?

You'd heard from friends that they'd fucked demons before, that they'd come and then kill them, but you couldn't do that, you were better than that.

"What are you thinking about, baby?", he asked, his voice was low, echoing off the walls of the warehouse you'd brought him to. His black eyes focused on you, glistening in the light from outside, teeth sharpened under his smile.

"How to shut you up as fast as I can", you replied, looking back at the knives on your desk.

"Oh yeah?", you suddenly felt him at your back, your heart skipped a beat, your stomach turned to ice, "Are you going to be nice to me, princess?"

"How did you escape?", your voice was so small, you were so scared, for the first time in your life.

"Ah", he chuckled softly, his mouth settling on your neck, "I have my tricks, baby girl", and you felt things slither down your belly and legs and as you looked down, you saw the long, black tentacles curling around your body. Those tentacles came from his back and depending on how much power he had, he could make more of them. You've never met a demon with tentacles and when you captured him, you didn't find any traces that he was like this, "I can smell you... you smell like a horny little slut, you know?"

"Let go of me now", you growled trying to break free, shifting restlessly.

"You find me attractive, don't you?", he asked, chuckling softly, his lips sliding down your neck.

You squinted your eyes trying to concentrate, "Let me go now", you growled through your teeth, feeling your pussy throb as the black tentacles tightened on your thighs.

"I know you don't want to, I can feel your heart beating", one of the countless tentacles slid along the inside of your thigh, the tip coming extremely close to your crotch, caressing the skin still covered by your jeans, "I can feel your pussy throbbing… you smell", and he took a deep breath, "so good…"

"Filthy demon", you cursed, trying to pick up the small dagger on your table trying to hit the thigh of the tall man behind you, but one of the tentacles grabbed your wrist, taking your arm to your own neck.

"Don't be rude, I'm complimenting you, fucking slut."

"Let go of me", you snarled, once more.

His beautiful lips touched your cheek, staying close to your skin as he spoke, taking the dagger from your hand, "Lie to me and say you don't want me."

"How would I want such a disgusting being?", you tried to be strong.

He chuckled, a low laugh, "Disgusting?", a tentacle positioned around your neck and just wrapped around the delicate area, "I'm a monster, but not that kind of monster, you know? If you didn't want me, I'd just walk away… but fuck, when I felt what you wanted from me", he chuckled, "I couldn't control myself… Want to handcuff me again and blow me for a little while, princess?"

You swallowed hard, "Y-you… we can't…", you whispered, getting tired of being strong.

"No? Why not? Because I'm not human?", you took a deep breath, shivering, "Kitten", the tentacle that held you by the neck tightened, making you moan, "you'll never be able to think of another fucking human again after being fucked by me."

The demon turned you on your heels and loosened some of the grip on his tentacles, giving you the opportunity to move away. Your eyes looked at him, the completely black eyes looking at you with so much evil inside them. He grinned, sharp canines and incisors gleaming beneath his handsome smile, the dimples showing. The tentacles wrapped around you again and his hands gripped your waist and finally he kissed you.

You moaned and squirmed, feeling your pussy throb. The bigger one dominated the kiss, his tongue rubbing against yours, hungry, you just allowed him to do what he wanted. His hands roamed your body while the thick black tentacles did the same, exploring every millimeter of it, making your legs tremble.

Two tentacles tightened around your breasts, squeezing them together only so his big hands could play with the nipples hidden under the black clothes. His thumbs began to rub the peaks, his tongue rubbing on yours, his sharp teeth scraping your bottom lip every now and then, the tentacle on your neck squeezing in perfect pressure.

"Fuck, your are so fucking hot", he whispered, his hands going down to be able to remove your shirt, one of the tentacles ripped your bra, in the back, opening it and taking it off. He took a deep breath, "I'm going to fuck you until you forget your name."

"Please, sir."

He smiled, "What a nice little slut."

"Thank you, sir."

His hand slid around your waist, having your mouth dominated again, being kissed with desperation. When your hand wandered to his cock, your eyes widened, the problem wasn't just that it was a thick bulge against the black dress pants he wore, but that they were two bulges. Your eyes widened and his heart sped up in despair making him laugh.

"Stay calm, baby…", he whispered, his hand caressing your hair, while one of the tentacles slid over your ass and the other over your thighs, caressing you, "If you want, I can transform and just stay with on-"

"No… it's okay…"

The brunette smirked, "Your sweet saint face is just for decoration, right?", and chuckled when your cheeks flushed, "You want to feel full, don't you?"

"Yes…"

He chuckled evilly, "And I'll do whatever you want."

The older one opened your pants with his hands and let his tentacles take them off for him while his hand was busy stroking your pussy lips, making your legs shake. The tentacle on your neck loosened its grip a little giving you time to breathe and adjust before tightening it again. His tentacles removed the knives from the table and placed you on top of the furniture while his hands were busy with your white panties. He thought if he should just take it off and be delicate, or if he should tear the piece with brute force, and he chose the second option, ripping the panties, earning a startled moan from you.

Nijiro smiled, his thumb sliding over the wet lips, giving your clit a little attention, making gentle circular motions. He knelt on the floor, tentacles coming out from his back, threading through the white button-up shirt that was opened as he positioned himself on the floor. Four tentacles gripped your legs, opening you for him, holding you in place for his access. A tentacle touched your wrist, pulling it to your own breast, wanting you to touch yourself while another positioned itself on your free breast and began to slide the delicate tip over your nipple. The soft, smooth, black tentacle slid over your delicate skin, making your moan softly.

The brunette took a deep breath and kissed your thighs before sliding his tongue over your wet pussy. You whined, a sigh leaving your lips, your free hand stroking the soft blond hair. The soft tongue rubbed against your clit and moved all over your wet pussy, sucking on the lips before returning to the tender spot and giving it attention.

"Fuck", you cursed feeling his tongue forcing in your entrance.

You didn't expect to feel what you felt. It was like his tongue was sliding down inside you, reaching in, going deeper inside you back and forth, fucking you. Your moan grew more agonized as his thumb began stroking your clit, letting his tongue fuck you.

His dark eyes focused on you, a wicked smile spread across his face, even though you couldn't see it, his nose was resting on your skin as his tongue tasted you so intimately. Saliva escaped his lips, wetting you, sliding down your ass.

A sly moan left your lips when you felt the long tongue leave you and climb your lips, returning to its normal size when reaching the clit, "What a delicious pussy… so tight… you're going to crush my cock like that, princess…"

"How-how…? How you-?"

The brunette chuckled, standing up, sticking out his tongue. The normal-sized tongue grew down his lips, making your heart race. The tentacle on your breast just held it and offered it to its owner for him to curl his long tongue over the delicate skin, the tip rubbing against the nipple as the length slid across the skin, eliciting a whimper from you. One of his hands took your hand away from your own breast and squeezed it hard, making you moan and his free hand went to your pussy, sliding through the lips, collecting the lubrication before sinking them inside you. Fingers curling, back and forth inside you, feeling your hands grip his hair.

"Fucking thigh pussy", whispered the demon as he retracted his tongue, his eyes focusing on his fingers fucking you, the wet sounds mixing with your moans, "Did anyone ever tell you that you moan like a dirty slut?"

You shook your head, "No… I'm sorry, sir."

Nijiro frowned and then laughed, "Who says I don't like it?", the tentacle on your neck squeezed the delicate area again, pulling you closer to him, "I want to hear every obscene moan that comes from you, princess."

The brunette kissed you again, his fingers still teasing you, gathering lubrication before sliding his finger down to your other entrance, dipping one finger in without difficulty. Which made him laugh and he continued to prepare you gently. Your arms wrapped around his neck as you kissed him, feeling your entrance being opened.

His tentacles still held you in place, holding you all the way to your back, so you didn't have to worry about holding on with your hands. Two of them busied themselves with your breasts, squeezing them eagerly as the tips rubbed against your nipples, making your back arch.

The demon's free hand opened his own pants and pulled them down, along with his boxers. The kiss ended because of your curiosity to see what the two volumes you had felt earlier were about. Nijiro had two members, one on top of the other, very close together, under the lower one there was a pair of testicles. Both cocks were thick, countless veins adorned the fair skin, the red tips glowing pre-cum. You swallowed hard, watching him bring his hand to his lips and let saliva fall, sliding it over both of his cocks. You watched with all attention, his hand went to your lips, making you look at him.

"Slobber on it for me, baby girl."

Promptly, you complied, spittle dripping from your mouth onto the large hand under your lips. After a brief moment, he smeared all of your saliva onto his skin, jerking himself off, one cock at a time. With a sigh, he positioned his cocks at your entrances, forcing his way through. You moaned, grabbing his shoulders, hugging him, your hand sliding across his chest, the open white blouse giving you passage over his beautiful abdomen. Your face was buried in his sweet-smelling neck, you could have sworn he smelled like lavender and lust, but she couldn't be sure.

"Everything okay?", Nijiro asked softly, his hands stroking your hair and back as he sank all of himself inside you, wanting to help you calm down.

"Yes", you replied, slightly agonized, your hips squirming, "Fuck me, please, fuck me."

"Whatever my little baby girl wants."

And the demon began to move. His strong hands held you by the waist, starting delicate movements, the tentacles caressed your thighs, squeezing your breasts, offering them to him. The brunette brought his face to your breasts, lightly nibbling the top of your left breast before enveloping it in his tongue, caressing the bitten skin as the tip of his tongue caressed the peaked nipple. You moaned, digging your short nails into the demon's broad shoulders.

Your moans were agonized, you could feel him so deep inside you, stretching you completely for him. Your moans got louder the faster Nijiro moved, fucking you without any kind of pity. You had never been so well fucked in your life, there was hate and precision in his movements and it was so wonderful. With one hand, he pulled you by the hair, making you look at him.

"You're so fucking hot", he whispered, "How am I going to fuck anyone else and not think about that ass crushing me? And that pussy drooling all over my cock?"

"Sir", you whispered, lost.

"Funny you're supposed to be killing me, not letting me stretch you open, princess", he chuckled, "Aren't you ashamed?"

"Fuck off."

The demon grinned and slapped you across the face, "You better respect me, spoiled slut."

"I'm going to kill-", and you couldn't finish, you couldn't threaten him, after all his thumb went back to caressing your clit while both cocks invaded you with so much desire, "I'm going to cum."

"Come on, little slut, get me all wet, let's go…"

Your inside squeezed him hard, your legs trembled with the tentacles, you moaned loudly, unable to control yourself. He smiled and kissed you, not stopping the movements of his hips, seeking his own pleasure as well. It didn't take long before he was cumming, filling you with cum, making his eyes roll back in his head, his tongue rubbing yours, his hands squeezing your soft ass hard, the pleasure consuming his beautiful body.

"Fuck", he growled holding your face tightly before kissing you again, "No, no, no", he whispered, one of his tentacles gripping your wrist, unnoticed by him (or you thought there was no noticing), your took a silver dagger and was ready to cut his neck, but he stopped you, "It's rude to kill a man right after he cums", he scoffed, "Especially after he makes you cum with so much pleasure. "

The brunette pulled away from you enough to be able to look at you, all trapped by his tentacles, cum sliding through your holes, you were so full. Nijiro smiled and straightened his pants.

"My name is Nijiro. Murakami Nijiro", informed the brunette, "If you want to be fucked very well like that and threaten to kill me again, just call me, princess", and after a peck, the demon disappeared, leaving you naked in your warehouse, head full and cum running down your thighs.

...

permanent tags: @laylasbunbunny @saiewithakatana @hopelezzromanticsblog @mrs-sherlock-holmes

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sweetcarrotsandroses97 · 11 months

Text

His Flower | KTH

Pairing: Yandere! Vampire! Taehyung x Fem! Reader

Summary: You thought you had met your soulmate in the most cute and cliché way you could possible could. But when Taehyung revealed his true identity to you, he did something you couldn't forgive him for. But that didn't stop him from making you stay with him forever.

Word Count: 1.8k

A/N: Hello, everyone! I really hope you will like this small and dark drabble. I'll be posting more content soon, promise! Let me know what you thought of this in the comments, please!

*A/N: I don't own Taehyung's picture on the banner. Credits to the author. I only used it for the banner, that's all.

**A/N: If you'd like to be tagged in my next post, let me know! I will create separate taglists as I post more things in here.

Warnings: yandere! taehyung, angst, manipulation, possessiveness, kidnapping, marking (?), blood, biting (obviously), forced stay, fear, more angst, let me know if I missed anything!

*I do not condone the activities done in this fic to be done in real life nor do I think any of the members would ever do something like this. This is a work of fiction and does not, at any point, have to do with any person in real life, this is just for fun.

Likes, comments & reblogs are really appreciated!!!

Your gaze was locked on the little snowflakes that fell from the dark sky. Your arms were wrapped around yourself, trying to keep the cold away as your eyes were lost in the distance, mind already gone back with memories of your past.

A shiver travelled down your spine when you heard the sound of footsteps approaching from the hallway. You knew it couldn't be good. You hadn't felt at ease with him in the same room as you since you arrived at this place.

His home.

"Flower, you've been here all day. Join me for dinner."

You knew he was standing close to the entrance way as his voice didn't sound as close as you expected it to be. You didn't turn around, not wanting to have this conversation, not wanting to speak with him. The man who had selfishly taken you for his own pleasures. The man who kept you trapped, chained to him.

"I'm not hungry."

Was your answer. Voice flat and your eyes remained locked on the falling snowflakes.

At least they are free.

You heard him sigh deeply only for then for him to approach you. You felt him. Felt his gaze trained on your body, his aura surrounding your soul, his scent invading your senses. Like before, where you even brought him a nice perfume.

Don't go there.

You thought. Eyes glossy with the remnants of your memories that now seemed to be so far away from your reach. As if they happened years ago. Perhaps they were.

"You haven't eaten at all today."

"Yet I still am not hungry."

He sighed again. His red eyes running all over your features, trying to decipher your thoughts. As if that was something his kind could do.

"Don't be so stubborn, you need to eat. You live here so that I can take care of you."

Those words were the snapping cord for you. Did he really think you were doing him a favour? Did he think you were here by choice? that you were enjoying it?

"Because you took me here and won't let me go. That's why I'm living here. I never wanted this, Taehyung!"

You raised your voice with the last sentence. He was getting on your nerves. The little spark of chemistry that was going on between you both was extinguished by him when he took you. Stole you from your life.

(e/c) met red in a dancing storm of emotions as you turned to look at him. You saw his gaze changed from his sickening care to a swirling storm of anger, desperation and rage.

"I did it to protect you! To protect us! You know, (y/n), you know better than anyone that to society we are monsters. I am a monster."

Tears began gathering in your eyes. But they weren't because you were sad. They were because of your anger. Of your hate.

"That's not true. And even if it was, you didn't have to trick me like you did. You didn't have to lie to me."

Taehyung let out a dry chuckle, his red irises roaming around the large library before they returned to look at you.

"I was starting to like you, Tae. To really like you."

The nickname flew out of your lips so naturally that it almost gave him a spark of hope. His heart skipped a beat, you hadn't called him "Tae" in a long time. Not since he took you and revealed his true identity. Revealed his secret. His nature to you.

It seemed to have passed ages ago when you met for the first time in that small library where you tried to reach a book on a higher shelf and he had grabbed it for you. Placing it in your hands with a warm smile.

What happened next between the two of you was a muddy concoction of memories and emotions. Of smiles and shared experiences. Of cute dates and future places. You even got to the point of thinking that perhaps he was the one for you.

"Don't you like me anymore?"

His question brought you back from your thoughts. From your sweet memories and your naïve past self who had fallen into his trap without resistance at all.

You looked at him with a straight face. No emotion at all marked your beautiful features as you stared at him with empty eyes.

"I hate you."

Taehyung felt as if someone had stabbed him in the heart. Even a stab wound would have hurt less than your words. Has he not shown you how much you mean to him? Had he not been there for you? Cared for you? Loved you enough?

"I hate you with every ounce of me."

His eyes closed, jaw clenching as the venom of your words dripped into his wounded heart.

"You don't mean that. You are just angry. You are being ungrateful, (y/n)!"

You scoffed, taking a step back. The tears in your eyes began rolling down your cheeks in utter desperation.

"Ungrateful?! I can't leave this place, Taehyung! You are forcing me to be here! You don't have the slightest idea of how much my freedom meant to me and you just took it. I don't belong to you, I don't belong to anyone. So yes, I am angry. I hate you with all my being but don't you dare call me ungrateful for something you took from me!"

You didn't leave room for any more discussions as you turned around and left the large library, going back to the room that Taehyung assigned to you in his mansion. The room you were going to have to call home sooner or later.

Taehyung watched you go. His heart twisted with the remnants of your words yet his mind was proud of himself for taking you, keeping you and protecting you. Even if you didn't see it that way.

In his perspective, you just didn't understand how he and you wouldn't be able to be together where society saw his kind in a lower level.

But he didn't ask for it. He never was given the option of becoming what he was now. How people would refer to him as a vampire. He never wanted to become a monster and even less in your eyes.

He was keeping you safe in a place where you both would be able to be together and happy.

You just couldn't see it that way.

To you, he had taken you, kidnapped you out of selfishness. You didn't care what he was. To you, the uneasiness he felt when he revealed his true persona to you was strange. You didn't care. You wouldn't have cared if he hadn't been selfish, if he had thought about how to solve it out instead of acting on impulse.

That was how you found yourself there. In his big and beautiful mansion. You became an item of decoration to him. A gem he had to preserve. A rose he had to garden. His flower.

You didn't go downstairs for dinner. Taehyung didn't see you again that evening. Now, it was dark outside. A snowstorm racked through the beautiful gardens of his mansion yet inside it was quiet. Only the cracking of the fireplace in the dining hall could be heard, where the handsome vampire sat at the end of the large table, a glass of wine in his hand.

Taehyung knew there wasn't a way he'd be able to convince you that what he did was the right thing. Your mind has been corrupted by society. Or so he thought. There was only one way you wouldn't try to escape from him, run away from his protection and love.

It was the only way to keep you safe.

To keep you with him.

"I'm doing it for you, flower."

Those whispered words got carried by the wind as he set the glass down and stood up, walking towards your bedroom as his shadow enlarged into one of the walls as he stepped further and further into the darkness of the mansion.

His steps were precise. His red eyes looked forward. His jaw clenched. The door to your room opened without a noise. Taehyung was able to walk around your bed until he stood next to your lying position on the comfortable mattress.

The moonlight illuminated his crimson irises as he watched you sleep. A primal instinct setting at the bottom of his chest. Sitting down next to you on the bed, his eyes roamed all over your figure. His large hand caresses your cheek softly as his fangs reveal themselves with his murmured words.

"You will understand why I'm doing this, flower of mine. It is the only way."

The quiet murmur of his deep voice resonated along the tall walls of your room. Taehyung looked down on your exposed neck and before he could think it twice, he bent down to you. The sweet smell of your skin invaded his senses, pupils dilating as his pulse accelerated.

He sunk his fangs in the delicate skin of your neck, the taste of your blood was even better than what he had fantasised about. He became addicted. Addicted to you.

The pain increased and you woke up. Pushing with all your strength at his shoulders as whimpers left your lips.

"Please, don't. Stop it."

But your cries of desperation fell on deaf ears. He continued to suck your blood while his own poison got into your system and travelled through your veins. You were going to become like him. An eternal being forced to live on this earth. Forever.

By his side.

In that moment, you knew you were never going to escape him. You were chained to him now in a different way. Tangled in a web of time. You became his in that exact moment. His love. His to keep.

Taehyung knew it was the only way of keeping you by his side. You would learn to love him. Learn to live the way he had for centuries. And he was willing to wait for your heart to accept him. He had lived in a dark emptiness for so long, he could endure it again with the promise of your love and devotion as the final reward.

You were his. In more ways than before. Bounded by a created fate in an eternal timeline traced with blood.

You became more to him than he had ever wished. And as the sweet taste of your blood invaded his mouth, he promised to keep you with him. To keep you safe as you were, and would always be, his precious flower to protect in an eternity tainted in crimson blood.

May 20/2023

~Masterlist

Likes, comments & reblogs are really appreciated!!!

☕Caffeinate me so I can keep on writing! ☕

#taehyung #kim taehyung #taehyung x reader #reader insert #bts fic #kim taehyung x you #kim taehyung x reader angst #yandere! taehyung #toxic love #vampire au #taehyung angst #possesive love #sweetcarrotsandroses97

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