#look if destruction takes place before the special

[wield-the-mighty-pen]

#look if destruction takes place before the special #which it is confirmed that it does #that would mean that marinette's parents went from wearing pjs #(in destruction) #to wearing regular clothes #(in the paris special) #one has to wonder why #polls #miraculous ladybug #mlb #miraculous #ml #ml spoilers #ml season 5 #ml season 4 #ml special #ml paris spoilers #ml paris #ml paris special #miraculous world #miraculous paris #ml leak free #miraculeakless #ml into the reverse #ml risk #ml strikeback #ml evolution #ml multiplication #ml destruction

[fatuismooches]

Could you please write about the Harbingers and their voice lines for the reader? Like them telling the traveler about you and stuff :)

♡𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬’ 𝐕𝐨𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐀𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐘𝐨𝐮 ♡

synopsis: The Traveler expected the Harbingers to be cold and ruthless in pursuing whatever the Fatui's goals were. Hearing their loving voice lines on you was certainly the opposite of what they predicted.

includes: all harbingers (platonic pulcinella) w/ gn! reader

notes: I've wanted to do something like this for a while. It was rather cute and fun to write! Includes five voice lines about you for each Harbinger.

Pierro:

About You - His Lover:

“So you’ve already met [Name], Traveler? I’m not surprised, they like to talk to people, especially when they see me speaking to others. They’re quite energetic and bouncy, aren’t they? But I can’t say I dislike that about them. They are a bright light in my life.”

Chat - Walks:

“Much of our time spent together is on walks outside in Sneznhaya, with the snow gently melting on us. It’s a rather simple activity to most, but irreplaceable to both of us. I hope, after everything is said and done, I can take them on walks in other places.”

About Your Patience:

“They never comment on it, but I know they get lonely without me. For most of the day, they do not see me due to my work, and even when they try to stay up late for my return, they end up falling asleep sometimes. I truly wish I could spend more time with them. But I know, after fulfilling the Tsaritsa’s dream, I will give them everything and more.”

Something To Share - Meals:

“I don’t think about what I eat or when I do very often. It doesn’t matter much to me, but [Name] clearly disagrees. Instead of the maids preparing my meals, they started cooking everything for me and adding little notes too. It’s very endearing of them, but I don’t think I’ll ever live it down when the other soldiers saw me eating heart-shaped cookies with smiley faces on them…”

About You - A Second Home:

“I remember the destruction of my homeland clearly. It is something I will never forget. But even though I have only a small portion of time with them, they never fail to make me feel… content. With them, I can forget about everything, even if it is just for a few minutes. Heh, sometimes I foolishly wish they lived in Khaenri’ah with me for a bit, if only to experience a normal life with them.”

Capitano:

About You - His Lover:

“There is nothing I cherish more than [Name]. Many people often comment on our relationship, after all, we are quite different in all aspects. But I have them to thank for many things. They have taught me many things I could have never learned on my own.

Chat - Souvenirs:

“Traveler, you have been to many nations for extended periods of time. Would you share some items that would make good souvenirs? I always make sure to bring something back for them. If you have any recipes to share, that would be greatly appreciated as well. Whenever I am back home, [Name] always insists on having all of our meals together.”

A Special Item - The Kamera:

“You must be wondering why someone like me carries around something like this. I never cared for the device until [Name] told me about it and asked me to take photos on my expeditions. I guess I’ve unintentionally become a master without knowing it because they always praise the pictures I take when they organize them in their scrapbook.”

Something To Share - Smiles:

“I am not adept at smiling at all, or very expressive in general, something [Name] has an issue with. Oftentimes, they sit on my lap and try to get me to show some emotion on my face. Reading stories, telling jokes… they try it all quite frequently. While I don’t think it’s working very well, I enjoy their antics.”

About You - Reminiscing:

“I remember once I walked in on them trying on my helmet and coat. They hadn’t noticed me yet, and I couldn’t help but notice how small they looked buried under my clothes. But quickly I worried about whether their head could take the weight of my helmet. Before I could say anything, they saw me and scurried away in embarrassment. I never brought it up again, but it was rather cute.”

“Huh… Paimon would have never guessed Capitano was like this. When we go to Snezhnaya, we have to find this guy’s mansion somehow! Paimon wants to meet [Name]!”

Columbina:

About You - Her Lover:

“Hmm~hmm~♫ Oh, hello there, Traveler. Ah, I see you’ve brought [Name] with you too, come here, my dear. Hmm? Oh, I guess I forgot to tell you. They are my partner in love, music, in everything. Perhaps you should come to one of our shows one day. I’d say we are quite good.”

About You - Favorite Pastimes:

“I love going to watch plays with them. The theater is one of the places where we spend a lot of time. I always end up humming along to the songs. Sometimes, when the theater is unoccupied, we act out certain scenes together. Say, Traveler, have you ever heard of Romeo and Juliet?”

Chat - Naps:

“Hmm… what time is it? The weather just feels perfect for a midday nap. [Name] always indulges me whenever I want when I want to doze off. This surface is no match for their pillowy softness, but it’ll have to do for now…”

“Hey, you can’t just fall asleep in the middle of- oh… Paimon doesn’t know how she can knock out that quickly.”

Secret Hobby - Poems About You:

“Your bright smile that can go on for a mile,

Unmatchable style with a laugh that never ends for a while.

Sweet lips that I want to savor,

Ah, I am so glad I am in your favor.

Or should I say “For you make me ever the more braver”...? What do you think, Traveler?”

Something Interesting - Liyue Opera:

“Traveler, I hear that there is a talented opera troupe in Liyue with beautiful music and songs. Oh, you’ve met them yourself? I would love to attend it with [Name]. They love listening to music from around Teyvat, and I have to agree with them. Haha… I can’t wait to take them out of Snezhnaya for a bit.”

Dottore:

About You - His Lover:

“Hmph, you wish to know about [Name], I hear?”

“Yeah! Paimon wants to know what kind of person would stay with a madman- I mean! A Fatui Harbinger! You know, since that’s quite dangerous and all.”

“Hehe, is that so? Too bad, because I have no obligation to tell you. But they are truly… ah, never mind.”

“Aww… Paimon really wanted to know what he was going to say.”

About You And The Segments:

“Some of the segments are quite fond of them, while some do not know them very well. After all, they were cloned at different parts of my life, before and after I met them. I must say… it’s can be hard to get some of the other segments away from them. I didn’t think they would hoard [Name]’s attention so much…”

“Is it just Paimon, or does Dottore’s attentiveness towards them grow as each clone gets older? And hey, is Dottore jealous-”

“Shush Paimon, before he hears you!”

About You - Whereabouts:

"It's time for their medicine... Hmm, have you seen them, Traveler? You saw them leave and go into the city? And you didn't stop them? Tch, useless. I must simply go and find them myself... Now that I think about it, I wouldn't want you talking to [Name], anyway."

About You - Health Concerns:

“Ever since our Akademiya days, [Name] has been plagued with an unknown and virtually incurable disease. It is essential that they take their medicine every day, but they often try to avoid it, after doing it for so long. This is why I and the clones always keep an eye on them.”

“Aw, so that’s why [Name] always looks so tired whenever Paimon sees them… That must be so hard.”

“… I don’t care what methods or tactics I have to employ, or if the Gods or even you, Traveler, get in my way. I will cure them of their sickness. Nothing will stop me.”

When The Sun Is Out:

“Hm, it’s a perfect day for [Name] to take a walk. The fresh air is always good for their health. Perhaps a boat ride is in order as well.”

“Oooh, Paimon loves the sound of that! Maybe we can fish and eat it too!”

“Why would I ever invite you to be with us? I’m sure your very existence would give them a headache.”

“Hey, how rude!!”

Pulcinella:

About You - Relationship:

“You were fighting some hilichurls when someone called [Name] joined you? And they ended up lighting an explosive barrel? Wherever that child goes, they always bring trouble with them. But don’t hold it against them. They are a lovely person to be around.”

Stories To Tell:

“They always pester me to tell them stories. Though, this is not a bad thing at all. Not many are willing to listen to this old man ramble on willingly. Ah, youth is a wonderful thing. Would you like to join us next time, Traveler?”

Chat - New Things:

“Indeed, they have taught me many things. The latest trends, songs, books, and more that their generation is into. Sometimes I struggle to understand some of what they say too… the world is changing so quickly.”

About You - Baking:

“We bake together quite often. Most of the time, I have to direct them, otherwise, they will burn down the kitchen which has happened multiple times before. Pantalone was not happy. I have never seen a youngster with such little aptitude for cooking, but surprisingly, it is great fun.”

About You - Family:

“Ever since they were young, they were quite rebellious. Running away from the castle, pretending to be asleep after bedtime, beating up all the Fatui soldiers during sparring without hesitance. If anyone else besides me had to take care of them, it would not have ended well. But, I am truly glad they are in my care. I have thought of them as my own child for a long time. If it wasn’t for the possible danger, I’d have officially adopted them long ago.”

Scaramouche:

About You - His Lover:

“Huh? How do you know about [Name]?”

“Well, we just happened to see them with you once. You were actually smiling! And later we went up and spoke to them for a bit, and they were really nice! They told us that they were your-”

“Ugh, that idiot! Always trusting people so blindly… Anyway, I don’t need you to know anything else. It isn’t your business.” 

A Little Secret:

“I wonder if they could make dango for me again… it’s been a long time since I’ve had it. But how do I get them to make it without directly asking? How bothersome… huh? How long have you been there, Traveler? You didn’t hear anything, did you?!”

Something To Share - Burdened Feelings:

“I once tried to wipe my emotions and feelings of them away into nothingness. It felt preposterous to me that I could feel something for a human, one that could barely fight nonetheless. But when I lost the Gnosis, when I lost everything, as I fell down, the only thing that I saw in my mind was their stupid smile…”

When It Rains:

“Whenever it rained, they would always huddle themselves close to me under my hat. At first, I pushed them away, but the look on their face made me allow them to continue. Sometimes, I make sure to take them out on a day that’s expected to rain just to see them do that. Don’t you dare tell them that though, Traveler.”

About Beelzebul:

“[Name] is always telling me to reconcile with her, but what would she think of me, or of them? How would she act toward me? Would she even remember me? There’s that irritating shrine maiden too… Hmm? It’s nothing. Let’s keep moving.”

Arlecchino:

About You - Her Lover:

“[Name]? Yes, they are my partner. I suppose those Fatui recruits can’t keep their mouths shut about other people’s business for very long. Hmm? You’re surprised that I was so direct about it? Well, there’s no reason to hide it. But I would prefer that this discussion ends here. I like to keep my time with them private.”

When It’s Sunny:

“This weather is not my favorite. I prefer the cold much more than this blistering heat. But I did hear [Name] say that they would like to visit a beach someday. Hmm… say, Traveler, is Yaoguang Shoal a good spot?”

Something To Share - Quietly Loving:

“I’m sure you have realized by now that I am not very good with words or emotions. These things are far from my expertise. However, they seem to not mind my behavior, talking enough for both of us. But if they ever requested anything from me, I would do it without hesitance. No one else comes close.”

Chat - Coffee:

“One cup of coffee, with whipped cream, syrup, and sugar please.”

“…Eh?!! Arlecchino, what are you saying? You always order your coffee black!”

“I know. To be honest, I could not care less about all these extra ingredients. But… they always used to try and add things to sweeten the drink behind my back. I suppose I… miss them. This reminds me of them, a bit.”

“Aww… Paimon guesses that even the scariest and coldest of people can have someone special to them.”

About You - The Orphanage:

“They often spend their time with the orphans. I was initially surprised at first, and so were the other soldiers, but it worked out in our favor. The children love them far more than they will for me or the recruits. [Name] is a gentle and patient soul, after all. Reading stories, putting the kids to sleep… they are quite hard working despite having no need to.”

La Signora:

About You - Her Lover:

“My darling [Name] is the most perfect lover one could ask for. They are beautiful, inside and out. How I love to pamper them so… actually, there are a couple of new outfits I want them to try on. I can’t wait to see how they look. They are all mine.”

When It’s Windy:

“Tch, this wind is messing up my hair and clothes. [Name] used to always brush and take care of my hair after a long day, after I showed them how to do it correctly of course. Traveler, I’m afraid I have to go now. I must see them again.”

About You - Letters:

“Hmm, hmm, hmm… and it’s done.”

“Hey Signora, what are you writing?”

“Just a letter to my dearest. They are expecting something from me soon.”

“Wow, so you can send letters with your fire moths? That’s resourceful!”

“Of course. I always let a few stay around [Name] as well. If any of them happen to be extinguished, I’ll know if anything happened to them.”

About You - Favorite Pastimes:

“There’s nothing that pleases me more than seeing them all dolled up in the latest fashion. They look simply exquisite, especially when we do each other’s makeup. But I also adore seeing them lounge around in their favorite hoodies. They look great in anything, really.”

Something To Share - Past Grief, New Happiness:

“Sometimes, it feels just like yesterday when I lost him. Grief and bitterness wrapped around my heart like a cocoon that would never hatch. But when I fell in love with them, I felt something that I had not felt in far too long. That cocoon started to shatter little by little, as I started to remember how to love again. I truly love them wholly with whatever’s remaining of my heart.”

Pantalone:

About You - His Lover:

“So, you’ve met [Name], I hear. What do you think of them? Beautiful, am I right? Of course, they are nothing short of perfection to me. Hardworking, determined, helpful… I could go on about them. Say, Traveler, would you be so kind to direct me to some of the best shops around here? I would like to find some gifts to send to them while we’re here.”

Worries - Financial Concerns:

“Traveler, I have a great issue on my hands. [Name] has apparently forbidden me from spending any more Mora on them. They keep saying that they do not need anything else, but how can I restrain myself from spoiling my darling?”

About You - Favorite Pastimes:

“Oftentimes, we like to end off the day with some leisurely reading. The feeling of them laying against my chest, legs intertwined, as I whisper certain parts of the book softly into their ear, delighting as they turn warm- oho, your face is all red. Did I make you embarrassed? Apologies, I get carried away when talking about them.”

About You - First Meeting:

“My childhood is not something that I like to remember. But, despite everything, it is pleasant to think about the first time I met them. They were poor, just like me, barely scraping by, though they never failed to greet me every day with a big smile. [Name] would take over the grueling working shifts for me and the younger kids sometimes, and sneak bits of food out the window to me. Even with the fact that I was surrounded by poverty, I couldn’t help but think I had a true gem right in front of me. ”

When It’s Cold:

“I confess, I do enjoy the cold, but most of it is due to how adorable [Name] looks all bundled up in my fur coats. Or how they always dive under the covers and refuse to get up for anything. It is always a struggle for even me to get up from bed when they are so warm, too.”

Sandrone:

About You - Her Lover:

“They are my loyal assistant and lover, always willing to help out with any experiment I ask. I have known them for a very long time. They have always been the one to drag me out of the lab to get some fresh air… as a matter of fact, I think it’s about this time when they come to harass me. Somehow they’ve gotten half the robots on their side, too.”

When It’s Raining:

“This weather is good for testing how waterproof my robots are and the joints of my Automatons. A long time ago, I built a feature for an umbrella into some of my creations so whenever [Name] and I went for walks and it rained, we would be fine. Huh, you’re asking if you can use it? No, you can’t.”

About You - Favorite Pastimes:

“Eh? Sandrone, what is all this? You’re all dressed up!”

“Oh, it’s you. I’m simply preparing for my favorite event with my dear lover. We’ve just finished repairing an ancient Automaton, and they’ve decided a tea party is in order.”

“Wow! Even the robots have spiffy suits on! It smells so good here too, hehe, Paimon wants a taste of the tea and cookies too- w-woah! Where’d all these big robots come from?! Hey, let Paimon down!”

“This is for [Name] and I only. Now shoo. The tea party is set to begin soon, and I must welcome my honored guest…”

Inspiration - New Creations:

“Before I met them, I had never thought of using my skills to create mundane things that weren’t war machines or destructive Automatons. I thought anything else would be a waste of time, but surprisingly, it is not too bad. It’s quite nice to feel their fascinated face in the crook of my neck while I work. I usually gift these creations to them, anyway. They’re not much use to me, but [Name] likes these kinds of things.”

The Future - Fontaine Frenzy:

“I hear that I am set to head out to Fontaine soon. I would love to see the faces of those poor souls when they realize their technology is nothing compared to what the Fatui has created. Ah, I guess that means I’ll be seeing you there too. Will you be able to keep up with [Name] and I, Traveler? I must warn you, they are a formidable foe, with their refined skill and raw power from my mechanical attachments. Now that I think about there, there were some new weapons we wanted to try out… hehe, I can’t wait.” 

Childe:

About You - His Lover:

“Oho, interested in [Name] are you? I don’t blame you - they are truly an amazing person. Sweet, kind, and caring, not to mention, they are incredibly strong as well. Teucer loves them too, always wanting piggyback rides. I can’t wait to introduce them to the rest of my family.”

About You - First Meeting:

“I clearly remember the first time I laid eyes on them. I was passing through Liyue when I heard of an archery competition, and naturally, I was eager to test my skills. I was sure that I would win first place, but what did you know! Someone called [Name] had stolen that spot from me. Long story short, I pestered them until they fought me, and they really did beat me down. Haha, it feels so long ago, now that I look back on it.”

When It Snows:

“I once took [Name] to Dragonspine, because they wanted to see the snow as it was a rare occurrence in Liyue. You should have seen them, hah! Shaking and sniffling like it was the end of the world. And it wasn’t even that cold, as least compared to my homeland. Why didn’t I take them to Snezhnaya? Don’t worry, I plan to, very, very soon…

About You - Whereabouts:

"Have you seen them, Traveler? No? Haha, they must be hiding from me again. I guess I’ve asked them to spar too many times. Comrade, if you happen to see [Name], tell them I’m waiting at Northland Bank for them. Xinyue Kiosk, my treat.”

About You - Safety:

“Heh, I wonder what they’re doing right now. I hope they haven’t been roped into any strange commissions again. They are too helpful for their own good. If anything happened to them while I’m gone… Traveler, if you happen to be around, please help them. I’ll owe you, comrade.”

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #dottore x reader #capitano x reader #pantalone x reader #childe x reader #scaramouche x reader #pierro x reader #columbina x reader #arlecchino x reader #la signora x reader #sandrone x reader #il dottore x reader #fatui x reader #fatui harbingers x reader #genshin dottore #capitano genshin #pantalone genshin #fragile reader <3

[chocsra]

✧ "Salvation; Devotion"

16! stormbringer! Chuuya x fem! reader

✧ summary: being targeted by paul verlaine after being chuuyas friend, though when he comes to talk to you with a european detective, it seems to be more than friendship. ✧ content: small oneshot, fluff, angst (kinda), adam + angsty teenagers ✧ w/c: 1.4k

Chuuya - meaning "loyalty, devotion"

Nakahara - meaning "central plain"

His devotion was not only his strongest attribute, but his most tender weakness.

You knew a boy. He was young and short, but fiery and strong. He was mysterious, born with unknown origins, and walked the wrong path, that's why he's not only humanity's most destructive weapon but a lowly, pitiful, criminal.

It was something you weren't, though you didn't mind much.

But under the guise of celestial imperfections, Chuuya was a constellation falling into place. He was beautiful. Sunkissed with the kind of foreign beauty you’d see in actors that would play some sort of prince. Your first examination of him was his wealthy and neatly ironed clothing—the kind of blazers and shoes that you’d find in a modelling campaign. Even the accented cuffs of his clothing were underlined with emerald or other precious stones. Then, his silky russet hair, one thrown into a low ponytail—the hairstyle itself still retained a strong masculinity despite the length. Or maybe that came from the musky cologne he constantly wore. A hint of cigarettes, strawberries and that strong scent of virile.

The soft glow from his copper locks then shifted to the fitted collar around his neck—an odd fashion choice, but it really accentuated the ivory of his skin. Soft, sun-kissed skin that’d make its way to his face. A beautiful face, really. Delicate and angelic features with a permanent scowl tugging on his lips—soft pink lips. Chuuya's eyes reflected a fine smoky quartz. His cheeks and nose kissed with a few scattered freckles.

You wondered why a boy so sublime had the status of an onerous beast. Even he took the words that held the weight of a blade and cut himself until he was reduced to the slit of a knife.

You met that same boy, a masterpiece ripped at every edge, not in the dangers of the mafia, but where a silver line stretches to the sea. Where the sun meets the sky, where the light shines.

But even then, you treated him differently. You didn't treat him like he was something fragile. Neither did you treat him like the monstrosity he was sought out to be. You didn't worship him, nor did you greatly depend on him. Instead, you found his humanity and treated him as such. Once a stranger, then a friend, then..

Nevermind.

"Chuuya?!"

You heard the calamity of each step he took to reach you, the boy stopping to pant. "[Y/N].. we need to talk." next to the redhead, was a tall European man with short brown hair, he didn't look tired at all compared to Chuuya. "Greetings, my name is Adam Frankenstein." You cocked a brow at his monotonous voice, the way his mouth moved didn't seem in sync with his words either. "You're rather special, Master Chuuya spent almost 7 hours looking for yo-" Adam explained briefly, causing the redhead to grimace and cut him off, "Shut it, will ya?!"

...

You heaved a bothersome sigh, elbows planted on a cafe table as the two men sat in front of you. "So.. why do you need me, Chuuya?" you question, fiddling with your fingers, "And who's he?.." your gaze uplifts to the brunette foreigner, which the man carefully takes a pack of gum and begins to unfold it, popping a piece in his mouth, before swallowing it. Your eyebrows furrow in a moment of youthful distaste.

Chuuya clutches the cup of tea between his gloved fingers and murmurs something intangible, "Adam's a detective from Europole, investigating Verlaine. He wants to know more about him, which is why he's been following me around.." he finally explains, taking a calculated and almost frustrated sip of his tea.

"Verlaine. Who's Verlaine?" You ask momentarily, causing the redhead to part his lips to answer, but you quickly halt as the detective swallows another piece of gum down his throat. "And why is he chewing gum like that?"

"That's what I'm sayin'!" the teenager half-seriously slams the cup of tea on the table, "He swallows it like a nutjob. You need help, tin man." Chuuya scoffs, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat almost nervously.

"You need help. You spent 6 hours and 47 minutes looking for h-" the brunette explains with a hint of sass in his voice, the redhead's eyes widening in shock, "I said shut up!"

You shuffle in your seat awkwardly as the two men argue. Scratching the back of your neck before Chuuya finally settles down, patting down the cashmere of his suit.

"So here's the thing about Verlaine.. he's this batshit crazy assassin, and uh.. here's the real kicker.." the mafioso mutters, fiddling with his gloved fingers uneasily. "You're gonna be the bait."

Your jaw immediately drops, a hand clasping over your chest in the offence. "Excuse me?! For what?.. to get killed?!" Chuuya looks distressed at your response, seeking Adam's gaze for at least a little help in his later response.

"Your safety is ensured. We just need to lure Verlaine out, so Master Chuuya can eliminate him." the detective explains rather calmly, fishing for something in the pocket of his suit before handing a chocolate bar to you. "Here, sugar helps with stress." the redhead smiles awkwardly at Adam's response, giving a nervous thumbs up.

You snatch the chocolate bar with a bit of attitude, eyes narrowing to Chuuya as the boy inhales sharply, "I thought I wouldn't get involved in your mafia affairs, now I have to die?" you ask with furrowed brows, anger cracking in your voice. Causing the teenager to gulp in slight fear, a rare sight to Adam, as he's never sensed fear from Master Chuuya. Especially to a young girl like you.

"Well, you won't die... More like, almost die." The detective explains, hoping he'd ease your nerves at least a bit. "Doesn't matter! M'not doing it!" You shout in vexation, hopping up from your seat as you pick up your school bag. "Plus, I couldn't if I wanted to, anyway," you murmur,

"Wait.. why?" Chuuya asks with conviction.

your gaze adverts to the different sights in the area: the park bench, passersby, and the cafe's menu. Anything but Chuuya's confused face.

"Uhm.. I have a project that's due tomorrow, and I didn't start yet."

"You can't be serious!"

The teenager runs up to you in frustration, you clutch your bag as you turn to him. "Oh, but I am!" you remark, walking faster as the brunette detective catches up. "I'm very serious! After all, this is a serious project!"

The redhead pants and wipes a bead of sweat off his forehead, "You're really gonna prioritise a school project over your own life?!" he cries out, still trying to catch up to you.

"Anything is better than being bait for the Port Mafia!" You yell out, settling your argument atop a bridge, ignoring how the sun was starting to set in an arrangement of oranges and pinks. "Shit- Don't say that so loud!"

"I'd rather finish a school project than become bait for the Port Mafia!!"

You repeat again, louder this time. Chuuya pinches his nose bridge in frustration, tilting his head up towards the setting sun. And upon you halting your swift steps, the redhead finally catches up to you, and to your surprise, he grabs your hand to spin you around.

"Look, I had a shitty week too!" the boy lets go of your hand, making you huff a little bit. But instead of letting you go, he cups both of your cheeks and pulls you close, his gaze never averting from yours. "People that mattered to me died, so many of them," the teenager explains, a melancholic glint lingering in his pretty eyes, you could see it all from the close proximity of his face. "and I'd do anything for you to not be one of those people."

You gulp hard as your eyes scan over the glass of his eyes, the once stormy grey now welling holding back tears.

Silence.

Adam clears his throat, standing beside you and the mafioso awkwardly, "Apologies for interrupting. But this whole exchange is very childish. Master Chuuya, don't you think there are better words to articulate your romantic feelings towards [Y/N]?.. Perhaps after this all over, you can solve this by getting into a relationship-" you and the boy both retort at the detective in unison:

"Shut up, Adam!"

...

"Okay, I'll help you." you frown with conviction, "You owe me a school project, though."

The redhead presses two fingers to his glabella, "I'll send someone to complete it for you."

✧ chocsra™

taglist for those who interacted in this post:

@loserzai @juice1231 @silverbladexyz @soleelia @cherylpoptarts @jackiepackiee @sapphire-tears013 @sstarshroom @n0thum4ny @roujira

#chocsra #bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd chuuya #chuuya nakahara #bsd x reader #chuuya x reader #15 chuuya #bsd stormbringer #stormbringer chuuya #16 chuuya #16 chuuya x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #chuuya x you #chuuya x y/n #oneshot #stormbringer chuuya x reader #chuuya x fem!reader #nakahara chuuya x reader #chuuya nakahara x reader

[plush-rabbit]

Foggy Minds

Word Count: 4.7K A/N: I dont know his body!! So I tried to leave it ambiguous and yeah!! i also wrote this just for the ending bit

-

It’s a fucking joke. A cruel one. Angels- or at least Exterminators- are known for their cruelty. Raining down from above, a storm cloud that leaves red behind. Even after the destruction and death, the guts and gore that leave a lasting stench, the cruelty isn’t done. The angel Adam still has to bring torment down to Hell.

A wolf in sheep’s clothing is what he is. He can pretend he’s higher than the sinners down below, but he’s just as crude, if not more so than the worst of them here. It’s a tradition at this point for both you and him. He brings hell on hell, and a week later, he flies down once more, calling the club that you work at, demanding for you to be sent to the Heaven Embassy. However, as the next Extermination Day comes close, he’s called for your services once again. You wish you could say no, but he pays quite a lot for you, and you could always use the money.. 

You hate the walk there more than anything. It’s like everyone knows you’re off to go fuck the Exorcist. You look both ways before disappearing through the doors of the Embassy. Maybe they think you’re getting a meeting with- someone. 

The Embassy is empty, and every step you take echoes out in the room. You’re terrified. You always are. It never stops feeling like a trap. Even in the elevator on the way to the suite, you can only stare at the golden doors in front of you, your reflection distorted and twisted. 

If you’re going to be honest- you aren’t sure why it’s you who has to come up. It’s Adam- he’s bragged enough about how he can have anyone, and yet, he pays for a sinner’s cunt. You make sure to not feel special, to squash any pride down. Perhaps it’s too tedious to pay for another sinner or hellborn, and it’s best to just get what he knows will be a good fuck. You sigh and look away from your reflection and the glowing numbers. Still, you show up and do your job. You've taken better and worse clients. The angel is just someone in between. 

The doors open and you pass a few doors until you reach his suite. You don’t know why the Embassy has so many rooms, and when you tried to ask Adam, he made a comment about how you could have a fuck-a-thon, doing it in each room, and you sneered at the idea. 

Your suite- or rather his suite- is unlocked like always. You waste no time, stepping into the shimmering room. It’s livable. A kitchenette on one side, a bathroom with a wonderful shower tucked in the room, and a massive bed pushed to the end of the room. The room is bright, golds and blues, a deep dark wood carved into ornate decorations, and you feel out of place. It’s nice- far too nice for you to show up and defile it with what you’re going to do. The room never ceases to amaze you. There aren’t many places in Hell where the colors are bright and soft at the same time, where things look so pristine and untouched. When you once mentioned to Adam how nice the room was, he laughed and told you that there were far better rooms in Heaven. A part of you still wishes that he would have offered to show you- something, pictures, descriptions, anything. 

“Took you long enough!” The angel says, leaning back on the bed. “I pay for your entire time, ya know? From the walk from your whore house to the embassy, the least ya could do is hurry it up. I’m a very important angel, ya know?”

“You ordered me like last-”

He clicks his tongue, shaking his head. “I don’t want excuses.” His hand waves in the air, and he sits on the bed. “Come on, let’s get to it.” You roll your eyes at him as you walk closer. “Oi! Don’t roll your eyes at me,” his voice is laced with disgust, and you remember that he looks down on you- in more ways than you would care to admit. “Come on, strip.” Your hands go to unzip your skirt. “And make it good!”

You bite your tongue. Your shirt is the first to go. The action is slow, tantalizing as your fingers skim over your bare skin, and your skirt follows suit, pooling on the floor. You step out the fabric, and your heels click on the floor. Adam watches you, his hands scratching the bed covers. You spread your legs over his right, and grab his hands, letting them touch your ribs and then moving towards your back. 

You can feel the tips of his claws scratch at the clip of your bra. You press your cunt over his robe covered thigh, and grind over it softly. “Please, Adam,” you beg. “Take it off for me?” Your hands rest over his chest, and he watches as you grind yourself over him, your hands fisting over his robe, and you wonder for a moment if maybe you did a bad thing- if this was the wrong move. But then your bra straps fall down your shoulders, and it’s discarded somewhere in the room.

You hiss when his mouth suckles on a breast, the other breast being pinched and pulled at. He sucks so softly, letting his tongue roll over the swelling bud, teething at it so you hiss and arch yourself further into him. You can feel a wet spot grow, and you can’t help but rock yourself over your thigh. The other breast is manhandled, twisted and pinched that has you gasping and fisting holy fabric in your sinner hands. 

You're pushed off and his hands claw over your hip. You get the memo, and peel off your underwear, the wetness of it noticeable, and the only mention of it is when Adam pockets your underwear. You wish you bought another pair with you. The heels are tossed aside, and strong hands push you down from your shoulders. You fall onto your knees with a hiss, and you know what you have to do.

-

“And- And- Oh fuck, that’s it, baby-” He hisses, his head tilted back. The hand fisted into your hair tightens, sharp stinging encouraging you to swallow more so he could let go. “I’m just saying that why would you settle for anything less than-” A moan interrupts his monologue and you look at him through glossy eyes. “Oh fuck. It’s like a fucking gift to suck me off.”

A string of spit and pre-ejaculate connects to your lips as you pull away. It’s thick and white, and you’re gasping for hair, a hand wrapped around the base of his cock and you push yourself to swallow his package, fitting the pair into your mouth as your hand pumps his length. He’s breathing heavily, and you know he's upset at the loss of contact with your mouth with the way that his hand tangles itself into your hair, but his mask is twisted, and you pop them out of your mouth. Your mouth feels dry despite the excess spit- you suppose it’s the salty taste that lingers. 

You take him back in your mouth, eager, and begging for him to just spill his seed already. Your cheeks hollow, and he’s heavy on your tongue. Your tongue swirls over a vein, and you can feel him twitching.

“Fuck, I’m close,” he hisses, his hands cradling your head. You hum, and brace yourself, your hands holding at his thighs, bracing yourself for him to thrust forward. His hands tighten, and he thrusts into your mouth. You gag around him, your throat constricting around him. It’s a horrid sound, loud and hollow, and acid threatens to bubble over. As he continues to pump himself into you, spit dribbles from the corner of your lips and you’re grateful that you were ordered to remove your clothes. 

“That’s right, take it. Oh fuck, fuck-” a string of curses fills the room, and he’s unrelenting, pushing deeper into your throat. A hand slips to grab at your breast, eyes squinting when you can feel the spit coat over your chest. Your other hand tightens around Adam’s thigh, your nails pinching into him.

Your fingers pinch over your nipple, rolling it over, desperate to take your mind off of the assault of your mouth. His thrusts get deeper and harsher, and he’s still in the back of your throat, holding you down. Curses mutter in the air, sharp and slurring together, and he keeps his eyes on you. The eye contact is far too much, the piercing eyes boring into your entire being, and it must be some type of power play for him. You choose to focus on the base of his cock. With your nose pressed into his pubic bone, you cough around him, and finally he pulls away, his seed laying thick on your tongue. Tears wet your face and mix with your spit and the drops of his seed. 

He grabs your chin and you open your mouth, showing the mess that he’s made. Letting go, you stay still, as he taps his cock on your face. It’s tacky with your spit and leaves you feeling much filthier than you would like to admit. You hold the seed in your mouth and he gives a nod, and you make a show of swallowing, and open your mouth to show him. “Did you want me to do a blessing before you swallow?”  He teases. “With my holy cum, I grant you the opportunity to fuck me.” He chuckles at his joke.

“Thank you, Adam,” you murmur, hoping that the soreness on your jaw will go away.

“You know, you could learn how to relax your throat. You’d think after doing this for a living, your gag reflex wouldn't be a thing.” You send him a dirty look, and his grin widens. “So fucking sensitive. What did you want me to tell you? That you were good?”

You aren’t sure what mood he’s in at the moment. Sometimes you can tell when he wants to fight with you- where he wants to punish you and call you a sinner as he ravages you, but then there are moments when he wants you to beg for him, to tell him how good he is, how you want his cock more than anything. But at the moment with your skull pounding and jaw sore, you spit out a simple, “Fuck you.” His grin widens, and he hoists you up onto the bed. The stickiness on your face ruins the soft comforter, and you feel too dirty to even touch something so nice.

“I was going to be nice and just fuck you, but shit, you had to talk back.” 

A hand grips at your rear, and a finger teases at your hole. You hiss at the contact, and you're glad you’re face down or else you’d never hear the end of it of how flustered you must look. As if reading your mind, he flips you over, your face exposed and your hands immediately cover the lower half. 

“Adam-” you squeal, instinctively trying to close your legs only to have them pried apart. 

“Don’t worry,” he says casually. “I just wanna look at how wet you got just from sucking on me.” A finger traces against your slick and you watch as he tastes the finger. “Damn, I should have let you keep your panties on if I knew you were going to get this wet.” A finger enters and you squirm, suckling the intrusion further into your softness. “You’re soaked. And all you had to do was suck me off. You know, if I could keep you, I would.” He enters another finger, pushing the two inside until he’s at the knuckles. “I’d give you a nice collar, a nice bed, and all you would have to do is be my little cocksleeve.” He pulls out, and thick strings of slick connect his fingers back to your cunt. He returns his fingers to your cunt, now with the addition of a third. It’s a wide stretch, a sharp pain being overridden with pleasure. “I bet you’d like that. You’d live a pampered life, and all you have to do is keep your pussy spread open for me.” 

With a yank, you’re pulled further into the bed. The comforters make a soft noise, but the bed itself doesn’t creak. You watch with half-lidded eyes, focused as he rests on his knees beside you, his cock growing, the scent of it enough to make you go dizzy. You brush your cheek against it, licking at the side of it when he thrusts his fingers into you.

You sit on the bed, his cock pressed against your face, and with a mind too delirious to think of anything else, you pull him into your mind, lazily bobbing his head, as his fingers scissor inside of you. 

You breathe heavily, your mind growing fuzzy with the stimulation. He’s slow and lazy, massaging the inside of your gummy walls as he looks down at you taking his cock once more. A hand brushes your hair away from your face, and you pull away, pecking at his cockhead, nuzzling the glistening head against your lips. It isn’t enough for you, and you swallow him once more, humping into his hand when he gives a smart smack to your cunt. 

“Turn around,” he orders, and you scamper to do so. You don’t get a moment to prepare yourself, until he’s bullying himself inside of you. Your hands claw at the comforter, and with watery eyes, you see the fabric tear apart underneath your claws. “You’re clamping down hard around me,” he breathes out, and you buck your hips, trying to feel him deeper into you.

Above you, he's heavy, and selfish, pumping into you relentlessly. The sound of skin slapping against skin is harmonized by your moans. He grunts above you, whispering strings of obscenities and few words of praise linger in the air.

“Oh fuck,” he grunts out, “so fucking good.” His breath is hot against you, fanning out into feathered tickles that touch at your body. He’s never been one for intimacy before reaching his peak, always preferring to be lustful, so you never expect him to actually kiss you, but in moments where he rights just at the right spot, you’d wish he do a little more to make it feel something other that whatever this all is.

His body is pressed against your back, hands squirming underneath to grab at your breasts. His hands are rough and unforgiving, pulling and pinching his nails into your soft skin, You can feel the warmth of his breath against your neck, puffing and huffing, murmurs about how you feel wrapped around him, and you bury your face into the comforter. Your mouth is slacked open, spit pooling down, as your moan helplessly around him, body taut and nerves feeling as if they’re on fire. 

“No fucking wonder you’re a sinner,” he seethes out, his thrusts harsh and deep, enough to have you see stars and think about how as selfish as he can, he feels so good. “With a pussy this good, I bet you had everyone lined up for just a taste.” You let out a low whine. “Yeah, I bet you did. No wonder you were hired at that sex joint. Did you have to fuck the owner to get in? Ha?” His tone is wicked, and you’re unsure if it’s his words or the fact that you’re so close as to what is making you tear up. His weight above you shifts, and by your hair, you’re yanked back. You yelp and tighten around him, tears slipping down. “I asked you a question.”

“I didn’t-” you yelp as he continues to bully himself inside of you- “I didn’t hear it, ’m sorry,” you mumble, your scalp stinging with pain. 

“Too fucked up on my dick to even think,” he hisses, pushing you down onto the bed. He pulls himself out, and you whimper, shaking your head and pushing yourself closer to him, your cunt weeping for more of him. “A cock hungry slut is all you are, huh?” His cock is pulled out, and he watches you whine, your cunt gaping and leaking slick that makes your thighs glisten. 

“Adam, please,” you moan, turning your head to look over your shoulder. You can feel the drool stick to the side of your lips. 

“Please what?” he spits out, his eyes flickering to yours, before returning to your ruined sex.

You let a whimper, high-pitched and desperate. You fall back to the bed, your eyes looking forward, and your hand slips underneath you, fingers peeking towards your cunt, feeling the warmth drip onto your fingertips. “I want more,” you tell him, your words muffled by the comforter. “I want you,” you tell him, hoping that he’d take pity on you for a moment.

The tip of his cock brushes itself against your opening, and you clench around it, your body aching for more. “Nah, you have to do better than that.” Your cries are shushed, brows furrowed and you’re turned over onto your back, “Come on, I’ve heard you beg before.” Two of his fingers enter you, thrusting in painfully slow. “You know what to say already.” Your chest rises and falls rapidly, your fingers twisting the bed sheets into spirals. You shake your head, humping pathetically into his hand. “I promise to make ya feel real good.” 

“Adam,” you croak. He pulls his fingers out, and tears gluten over your lashes. “Please, I wanna be fucked.” Your legs tense when you feel the tip of his cock nestle itself inside of you. “I’m just a filthy sinner who needs-” you yelp when he thrusts himself inside of you, the entire lengths filling you nicely- “needs to be fucked by your holy dick.” His hands curve over your hips, scratching softy over your skin. 

“A little more, honey, and I’ll ruin that demon pussy for you.” His hands curve over your hips, scratching softly over your skin, his voice low and sweet for you.

“Adam,” you plead, your hands curving over your breasts, “I need you,” you whisper in a haze. “I need your cock in me, I wanna cum real bad. I need you. I need you to fuck my sinner pussy.”

He gives you a lazy smile, and gives a nonchalant shrug. “Good enough.” He pushes himself inside of you. Your stomach coils into a heat, and you suck in a harsh breath when his fingers slip to rub at the bundle of nerves between your legs. “You have a fucking grip on my dick. What is it? Are you close?” You let out a broken moan. Your legs kick up, and wrap around him. “If I cum in you, you’re dealing with it.” His grin is sharp and predatory, and it only makes you drag your hands down his arms.

Your hands reach up, and you hold the sides of his neck, your hands curving behind, and you just feel tufts of hair peek from underneath the mask. A hand reaches to grab your wrist, holding it tightly, and you’re sure you’re going to have a bruise afterward. “You fuckin’ slut,” he spits out. “You think just because you got my mask off last time, I’ll let you look at me again?”

“Adam,” you whimper out, scratching at the back of his neck with your free hand, “please. I just wanna look,” you slur out. You know you’ll regret saying those things when you’ve sobered from him, but sex always did make you softer, needier. You think that must be why he decided to continue to hire you- to see you pant for him and stroke his ego. “You’re so pretty, I wanna see,” you lament. “I wanna- I just- I wanna look at you when I cum,” you stumble over your words, your fingertips tapping against the bottom of the mask. The golden eyes narrow at you, and you can only look for so long until you turn your attention elsewhere.

His mask is tossed to the side, and his irises glow. The hand that holds your wrist loosens, and you cup over his cheek, the stubble on his chin scratching at your palm. “Fuck- Oh fuck,” you hiss out, your heart beating against your chest rapidly. “I’m gonna- Oh my- Adam! Fuck,” you hiss, the knot in your stomach tightening, a pressure building more and more until you’re sure that you’ll burst. 

Even as your body shakes, he doesn’t stop. He continues moving his hips, pushing all of himself inside of you, his breath coming out in pants above you, his smile sharp and face flushed. A hand wraps around your neck, and you arch yourself into it, whining and mumbling at how your cunt is still too sensitive, how he has to slow down, but he coos at you, and he tells you how good you’re benign for him, and you hold onto his wrist with your hands. 

Adam places his face close to yours, his lips and breath fanning above yours, and you’re stuck staring at his eyes, unable to look away from the gold in front of you. You lick your lips, and you brush against his. He stares at you, and your face burns. 

He gives shallow thrusts, and is still inside of you, and you can feel him. You can feel the heat, and the stickiness leaks out of you. He keeps himself there, and hides himself into the crook of your neck. After a moment, he slips out, and you can feel the heaviness of his seed weep out of you in slow and heavy drools. 

You lay in the afterglow, chest heaving and sweat and more sticking to your skin. Your body is on pins and needles, and laying on top of the soft bedding, you could fall asleep right then and there. Nestled into a pile of feathers and gold, you could die- again- and be happy with it. 

But then the man- the first man- groans and you remember that this isn't the time to play house. You have a job. Or rather, you had one, and now you have to return. You lift yourself up into a sitting position, and you stare at the bathroom. A part of you wants to take a shower, but you fear that if you even just tasted what luxury is, you’d have to be pried out of the embassy. 

With a sigh, you lift yourself off of the body and gather your clothes. The lack of underwear is something that you frown upon, but when you look back to the angel, with the demand for its return, you can’t bring yourself to ask for it. You’ve walked around without it before when customers got handsy, this is nothing. Your skirt is tight, and long enough that only a pervert would tell. 

“So,” he trails off, lying on his back, “do you wanna cuddle or something?”

Your eyes widen, and as you flatten your skirt, you thin your lips. “Uh, no. No thanks, Adam. I’m uh- I’m good.” You straighten your top, and tap your heels against the floor, the sharp click echoes in the chambers. 

“Whatever,” he huffs, “I was just gonna psych you out anyways.” He waves his hand, and cool air rushes around you. 

You let out a sigh, looking at the mirror where you stared at yourself just a bit ago. Your hands play with your hair, making sure that when you leave, it won’t look like you just slept with someone. You hum, and tilt your head from side to side, trying to find some sort of mark that would have to be hidden. However, the cool air- his own magic or blessing- has fixed any evidence of indecency on you.

“The extermination is next month,” Adam sighs. Your eyes flick up, and you catch him staring at you- golden eyes piercing into your own, unblinking and unbothered. 

“I’m aware,” you tell him, returning to look at yourself in the mirror. You stand straight and let out a sharp sigh. “I think some of the residents are already panicking.”

“Are you?”

Your stomach knots itself, and you remember when you were first bought by Adam- the nervousness, the disgust, the bile burning your throat. It’s all too familiar at this moment. You shrug. “I don’t think it’s set in yet,” you mumble. 

“I’ll come by the night before.” You look at the white tiles- the grout filled with shimmering gold, and the tiles patterned with silver and gold lines. “I’ll leave the back door unlocked like last time.” He doesn’t say the words nicely, it’s more like an afterthought, as if telling you this is a bother, but still, he tells you this, and one thing you've learned about Adam is that he hasn't lied to you yet. You fist the hem of your skirt in your hands, and nod. It’s silent, and then he starts again, annoyance laced into his words. “What do we say?”

“Thank you, Adam,” you tell him in a beat. 

“Yeah, well, I can't have my favorite whore die.” His wings unfurl and stretch across the bed. The tips of the feathers reach just beyond the mattress, and you shrug. The words hang heavy in the air, and you feel small compared to him. In the mirror, you can see his reflection, his  mouth thinning, and his eyes narrowing. “I- uh- I still have you for ten more minutes.” You make eye contact with him in the mirror. “Get back here. I wanna suck on your tits.”

You stick your tongue out, and your hips sway as you walk towards him, your heels falling carelessly to the floor as you rest beside him. His hands are cold as they peel off your shirt and without a care, he tosses it to the foot of the grand bed. A hand cups at your breast, and you can feel his breath fan over your chest, and you wait to feel his teeth bite at you, but you never do. The wetness of his lips trace over the swell of your breast, a peck pressed against the bud, but never swallowing it. Your chest is heavy with his weight on top of you, and the hand on your breast unfurls and curves over your ribs. His wings expand, and they partially cover you, the softness of them akin to the finest blanket in what only money can buy. 

Realization as what he’s doing has your body heating, and you worry that he can tell with the way that he’s laid bare on your chest, and yet, he makes no snide comments. This is far more intimate than anything you’ve ever done before. With a harsh swallow, your arm wraps around him, your hand reaching upwards to scratch at the back of his head. Your hands knot into his hair, your nails dully scratching along his scalp. He lets out a low hum in response, nuzzling his cheek over your bare skin in approval. 

With a shaky breath, you break the silence. “You know, I was thinking, that maybe I’d uh, give that Hazbin Hotel a shot.” You feel his hands scratch over your ribs, straight, and piercing, and they cling to you as his breath hitches. “I’m not sure I believe in the whole redemption thing, but free housing is nice.” You feel him nod slowly, and you twirl a piece of his hair around your finger. He gives you a short answer, one that is mumbled into your skin and doesn't make its way to you, and his wings inch further up covering more of your body as he brushes his lips against the swell of your breast. You don’t look at the time even when you feel that he’s grown heavier on your body.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin adam #hazbin adam x reader #adam x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel adam #i uh #something something he's pretty and awful #i just really wanted to write the last part #but i needed sustenance #i needed food #i had to write them getting there #i think he'd get a soft spot #like he'd like just a few people but would have trouble connecting to them #but i also think he would pay money to like get with a sinner #something about his ego and stuff #how he knows that hes better #but hes still depraved because he keeps going back to one specific demon #please let him return as a demon #i need it #i need him

[heartfullofleeches]

reader everytime someone mentions their birthday in front of the clown:

It doesn't even have to be in front of them. If anyone breathes a word of fast food reader's birthday in the restaurant it's game over for them. A coworker who doesn't know of their pains and wjo somehow manages to get their hands on the birthdays of their fellow employees and decides to be nice by throwing a little party for them - leading FFR to into full blown panic mode.

-

"Who's birthday is it?"

Balloons. Party games. Cute table clothes. Man, this was a pretty sweet set up. Your coworker had invited you to the break room to for a surprise - but you never expected this. You'd almost feel bad for not bringing a present beforehand - if you had known it was someone's birthday before five minutes sgo. You weren't even sure who's birthday it was. It's been a while since the chart was updated. You look at your fellow coworkers, awaiting their reply. The succubus employees her lower lip, eyes hidden behind her pink shades. The janitor tightens their grip on their broom. The softness in the succubus' voice washes you in a wave of unease

"Y/n.... stay calm... We're here for you."

The pit in your stomach sinks deeper as the janitor speaks next.

"We tried to warn them....."

What are they talking about? Your head whips towards the breakroom door as another presence makes itself known. Seeing your other coworker struggle to get a tray through the door, you head over to asset. Over their shoulder, you read the name spelt out on the cake in their possession.

Your blood turns to ice.

"shit......"

You croak - voice barely a whisper, yet they hear you all the same.

"Y/n, hey - my sister works at this supply store and I wanted to do something special for your big day as a little thank you for assisting me during my training. The others told me you weren't big on celebrating, but I thought I could change your mind. Happy-"

How the fuck do you keep forgetting about this day? The days blend together so easily you can't tell the difference between four days and four months passing. Your body acts on reflect - shoving them into the door as you rip the cart from their hands - tipping it over. You quickly turn your path of destruction on the rest of the room, tearing down poster and shoving the table cloth including everything stop it in the nearest trashcan.

"I'm not letting that clown take me again! You're not taking me this year, you hear me!"

Your coworker wipes frosting off their face. "They really don't like celebrating their birthday, do they?"

The succubus places her hand on their shoulder. "No..... Quick question, how fast can you run? Presents are one thing, but Twisty hates when others throw parties for people - especially if it's Y/n. I'd say you have a few minutes before they get here so you should be fine."

Loud banging comes from the vents.

"...Well, it was nice knowing you."

#yandere #yandere imagines #yandere x you #yandere headcanons #yandere x reader #yandere insert #yandere scenarios #yandere oc #yandere blurb #Fast food reader #yandere drabble

[tallulah477]

The Olo’eyktan’s Brat

Kinktober Day 29: Dirty Talk

Pairing: Jake x Fem!Human!Reader

Warnings: Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Oral (female receiving), P in V, Brat taming, Size Difference, Restraining holds (holding someone in place so they can’t move), Dom Jake, Sub Reader, Creampie, Belly bulge, Use of pet names (babygirl, princess, little monster), Slight cockwarming at the end

A/N: Credit to @eywaite for finally calling out my misspellings on Na'vi words that I've been misspelling this whole time 😭

Word Count: 3.6K

Summary: You’ve been acting like a brat all day and Jake is tired of your attitude and decides to put you in your place.

Translations:

Skxawng - Moron / idiot

Olo’eyktan - Clan Leader

Jake doesn’t know what’s gotten into you lately.

You don’t know what’s gotten into you lately. 

Normally, you’re not like this. This . . . needy. But Jake has been so busy lately, always busy helping The People, running interference during disagreements between council members, or leading the patrol run along the Omatikaya border to check for security. 

He’s an important man. A great and dependable leader who was clearly born to not only save the Na’vi from the destructive ways of the humans, but also meant to lead them with a strong heart and powerful will to keep them protected. He works long hours, up before the sun most days, his previous marine life keeping him on a disciplined schedule that has him up and around before the first patrol even goes out. He’s The People’s Olo’eyktan from that moment on and, even as his mate, it can be hard to get in front of him during the day.

But after the eclipse settles, the mask comes off and then he’s just Jake. The evening is your time together and he’s made it clear time and time again that he holds his special time with you in his heart. He’s always proven to prioritize your time together: by day he’s Jake Sully, Olo’eyktan of the Omatikaya Clan, but by night he’s Jake Sully, skxawng extraordinaire and the love of your life. 

And you’ve never had a problem with this arrangement before, never felt like you weren’t valued or appreciated as his partner - never felt like you were ignored. 

Until recently.

For the past week he’s been coming home later and later, stuck at work doing whatever clan related business that is apparently so important, it just couldn't wait, and you’re special alone time with the man you love has had to be pushed aside when he comes home each night exhausted and spent from the grueling day he’s endured. 

At first he was apologetic about it, coming home with a “Sorry, honey. Work was crazy.  Y’mind if we just cuddle tonight?”. And you felt so sorry for him, saw the tiredness and unease on his face and nodded sympathetically, offering to give him a nice massage after he ate the nice meal you prepared for him. 

A few times you would test the waters, hoping to tempt him into some playtime with a coy look and a sultry little “Hi, daddy,” but he would just shake his head, gruff voice murmuring a low “Maybe tomorrow,”. He always makes up for it the morning after, waking you up before he leaves your shared hut with a kiss on your shoulder and nuzzling his cheek against your face mask with a sweet sounding “Heading out, baby. See ya later, okay?”

And it was okay for the first few days. Things happen, things pop up and get in the way - you get it. But then it happened again, and again . . . and again. And then suddenly, it’s not okay anymore. He apologizes each time and you know that each apology is sincere. He’s not avoiding you on purpose - he has responsibilities to fulfill and you can’t take him away from that.

But your heart aches all the same. The pang of feeling ignored eating away at you slowly and you miss him so much you feel sick with it. So you go out on the search for his favorite fruit - an elusive variety of yovo fruit that tastes almost exactly like strawberries from Earth. Thankfully, you’re able to find a few, and you head home with a smile on your face knowing that he’s going to be so happy when he sees what you found him.

When you get home, you peel the fruit, slicing it up and carefully cutting them into different shapes, just like your mother used to when you were little. You try your hand at creating new things, using the point of your knife to create little ikrans and direhorses out of the fruit, even managing something that can be considered passable for an atokirina. You nibble on the leftover bits as you carve, lifting up your mask to pop them in your mouth every once in a while, and you display your work on a large fig leaf and wait for Jake to come home - proud and impressed with how everything turned out and knowing he will be too.

Except evening comes and goes, and then night settles over the village and Jake still isn’t there. You know it's stupid, but you can’t help it. You miss him so much and haven’t spent time with him in what feels like forever. And you're heartbroken at the fact that you spent so much time and effort trying to make a nice little gift for him and he’s not even here to appreciate it. 

You crawl into bed angry that night, falling into a restless sleep that only serves to make you more exhausted in the morning. You felt Jake slide into bed beside you late into the night, felt him slip his arm around your waist like he always does and pressed a kiss to your temple. But you pushed him off, brushed his arm from around your waist and scooted towards the edge of the bed away from him. You heard his frustrated and confused “fuck, okay . . .”, but he didn’t push it.

In the morning, he tries to greet you the same as he always does, leaning over to press his lips against your shoulder, but you cover the spot he always kisses with your hand before he can - a silent rejection. You hear him shuffle slightly behind you before his raspy voice breaks the silence.

“Baby, what--”

“Bye,”

Your interruption leaves him speechless. You’ve never spoken to him so coldly before, and part of you wants him to push you, to demand to know what the problem is so he can fix it. The other part is still so bitter about being left alone and forgotten that you just want him to go away. In the end, he sighs and dresses for the day, leaving the tent without another word. 

Your anger stews throughout the day, boiling deep in your chest so hot you feel like you could tear the whole hut apart in your rage. How dare he leave you? You clearly needed him and he just left. He ‘always makes you a priority’ your fucking ass. 

When evening rolls around and the eclipse is setting, he comes home. It’s earlier than he has been and he smiles when you look up at him from where you're mending a rip in one of his loincloths. You return his greeting with a bored look before averting your eyes and returning to your mending. 

Immediately, the grin wipes off his face and his eyebrows scrunch in confusion. 

“Babygirl, what’s the matter?”

“Don’t call me ‘babygirl’,” You snap, gripping the fabric between your clenched fists. 

Normally, the pet name makes you feel all good and gooey inside. But now it just grates against your eardrums. 

“Don’t call you—okay, how have I messed up this time?” 

You throw the loincloth down and stand from your seat, heading for the entrance flap of the hut with an irritated huff. “I’m leaving,”

Jake grabs onto your arm as you pass, blue hand so massive it wraps around the top of your arm and even curls over some of his own fingers. 

“Let me go!” You shout, trying to pull out of his hold, but his grip holds firm.

“What is up with you, woman?”

“LET GO!”

He pulls your squirming body closer to his, dragging you against him.“Hey, calm down--”

“Fuck you!”

His face darkens at the curse, eyes narrowing dangerously as his grip on your arm tightens. And then suddenly you're hoisted up in the air, pressed against the wall of your hut as Jake holds you up with a firm grip just above your elbows. You squeal as he manhandles you up, held high above his head, your feet dangling nearly 7 feet off the ground and unable to move or do anything except hang there at his mercy.

“What have I told you about using that language with me?” He growls, and despite your anger, the sound immediately goes to your core.

The position he has you in leaves his face just inches from your pussy. You can feel his hot breath against the thin fabric of your loincloth, and your body’s reaction to his tone is undeniable, unable to help the whine that falls from your lips at the feeling.

“Only said during pleasure,” You whimper.

“‘Only said during pleasure, what?” 

You whine, squirming against the wall as you feel wetness start to pool between your thighs. “Only said during pleasure, daddy,”

“Good girl,” He praises, amber eyes focused upwards to look at your face. “Now, you wanna tell daddy what’s going on?”

His voice is so soft when he asks, the deep timbre caressing your eardrums. Tears well in your eyes at the tone, the tone that screams ‘you’re safe’ and ‘tell daddy what’s going on so he can fix it’, and the emotional dam that’s been brewing in your chest snaps.

“You left me,” You cry, and Jake’s eyes fill with surprise at the admission. “You’re never home anymore. I never see you,”

Guilt flashes over his face and he nuzzles his face in your bare stomach. “Aw shit, baby. M’sorry. I know I’ve been busy lately. But you’re still my best girl. You know that,”

Your fingers itch to touch him, to run your fingers along his toned shoulders and chest like you’ve been denied this past week. But you can’t with the position he still has you in, and your legs swing slightly, kicking against the wall. 

“Missed you,” You whisper. “Missed you, daddy,”

Jake smiles at the addition of the intimate title and he knows he’s at least temporarily forgiven. His large amber eyes meet yours as he says, “Missed you too, princess,” and you have just a second to let the happy smile stretch across your face at his words before he’s digging his flat nose into the front of your loincloth and breathing in deeply. “And I missed you, too,”

His eyes are dark as he looks back up at you, heat swirling in the beautiful golden irises. Your breathing hitches when his teeth latch onto the front of your loincloth, sharp canines tearing through the fabric like it’s nothing until it falls from your body and to the floor in tatters. 

He attacks your pussy like a man who’s starving, face pressing into your folds and licking up your slit, groaning like he’s been dying of thirst for days and your juices are finally his saving grace. 

You moan loudly as his lips suction onto your clit, head thrown back in pleasure, and your legs try to wrap around his back but the position is too awkward and you have no leverage to use to get you there. 

He growls against your cunt, your arousal sliding down his chin as he pulls back just enough to speak. “You taste so good, doll. Gonna keep being a good girl for me while I eat your pretty pussy?”

“Mhmm, yes, daddy,” You whimper. “Feels so good, daddy. Please keep going,”

Jake chuckles, the vibrations shooting through your sensitive clit. “Oh, now you wanna be nice? Just a few minutes ago you were cussin’ me out,”

You don’t get a chance to respond before he’s eating you out again, warm, textured tongue dragging along your swollen nub and quickly ushering you towards orgasm. Your hips do their best to rock against his face, and your arms are starting to become numb from Jake’s iron hold and being forced to support your weight, but you don’t care. Can’t care. Not right now, not when the coil in your belly is heating up, threatening to snap any second. It feels like forever since you’ve gotten to have this, forever since you’ve had him here, with you, between your thighs, where he belongs. And you're desperate, so desperate that you can’t breathe, can’t get enough air into your lungs and the wet sounds your pussy is making as he completely devours you makes your face scrunch up in unrestrained pleasure.

He’s desperate, too. You can tell in the way he’s aggressive with you, hands bruisingly gripping your arms as he mumbles into your cunt. “Tastes so good, babygirl. Come on, ride daddy’s face.”

With another final harsh suck of his mouth around your clit, you cum, eyes squeezing shut as stars shoot across your vision. Your orgasm hits you explosively, and you shake and convulse against the wall as you cum on Jake’s relentless tongue. Your legs are beginning to feel like jello and you can do nothing but hang there, legs scrambling against the onslaught of your orgasm wanting to squeeze shut, wrap around his head, do something.

One of your knees bend, foot pressing hard against the wall you're pressed against as your pussy pulses in its aftershocks. It doesn’t stay for long though because Jake growls and sets you down on the floor, and your shaking limbs can barely keep you upright. But it doesn’t matter because he rips his loincloth off, large cock slapping his belly as it’s released from its constraints, and he’s lifting you back up against the wall, arms held tight in his grip and his tip nudges at your entrance. 

He rubs against your leaking hole, a back and forth motion that has you keening in his hold. He smirks, face glistening in the low light of the hut, as you whine a desperate, “Please, daddy. Please, please fuck me,”

“Aw, does my little brat think she deserves to be fucked?” Jake teases, fangs peeking out between his lips as he grins. 

“Yes! Yes, daddy,” You whine, hips trying to bear down on his cock. “I need it! Please, please,”

“You were being so naughty earlier,” He teases. “So disrespectful, and now you think your needy little pussy deserves daddy’s cock?”

Tears fill your eyes at his words, frustration bubbling inside you from how hard he’s pushing at your patience. You waited for him all week. You’ve been good - so good, so understanding and helpful and fuck - all you want him to do is put his thick, blue alien cock into your tight, drenched pussy and fuck you until you can’t breath and he’s being mean.

“I deserve it! I deserve it!” You cry, wriggling hard in his grip. Your cunt slides against his hard length as you struggle, coating it even more in your arousal and Jake’s nostrils flair just a little, picking up the scent. “Need you,”

“Look at you,” Jake coos. “So desperate for daddy. My little whore. You just missed me, huh? Feeling a little lonely and didn’t know how else to get daddy’s attention?”

“Yeah,” You breath, air catching in your lungs when the tip of his cock nudges at your entrance. 

“Missed daddy so much you decided to be a brat, hm?” He doesn’t push up into you. Instead, he lowers you down, your back sliding against the wall as he presses you down onto his cock. You whine, desperate and pathetic at the pressure and stretch of his thick head at your clenching hole. “Knew that would get daddy’s attention. You know how much I love to put my little slut in her place,”

You moan, loud and needy, as he breaches you. He lowers you down carefully, and you stop breathing when the mushroomed tip of his cock spears you open, pressing inside you insistently despite his mindful movement. “Fuck, daddy. Yes, yes, yes!”

Your small body swallows him whole, tiny cunt wrapping around his cock like it was made for him, welcoming him into your depths as he lowers you down further, inch by agonizing inch. There’s a bulge in your belly when he bottoms out, and you look down at it in glee as your hole flutters around his length.  

“Couldn’t even try to talk to me about it,” Jake’s voice is nothing but a gruff growl as he draws you back up, hands gripping tightly on your arms as your walls drag along him until only the swollen tip is left inside you. “No, you had to jump right into being a brat. Just had to fuck around and find out, didn’t you?”

You whimper as he slides you back down, length filling you up again, the bulge once again making an appearance in your stomach. You bite your lip, trying to hold in another needy whine. You’re partly successful, the sound breaking from your throat nothing more than a cut off squeak. But as he moves you again, and again, lifting you off his throbbing cock and slamming you back down, moving your body the way he wants like you’re nothing more than a ragdoll - his own personal fleshlight - you can’t keep the blissful grin off your face as you eyes roll into the back of your head.

“Shouldn’t even be fucking you right now,” Jake grunts, the tip of his cock barreling into your cervix with each thrust. “I’m just giving you exactly what you want. Rewarding you for being such a little monster,”

“D-daddy, f-fuck,” You moan. Your legs are shaking from where they’re hanging below you, tingly and useless, swaying slightly in the motion of Jake’s movements. 

When your eyes refocus, they lock onto Jake’s intimidating stare. His eyes are blown wide, his normally wide yellow eyes have been taken over by piercing black, pupils like blackholes threatening to swallow you whole in their intensity.

“Should take you over my knee instead,” He breathes, hot breath fanning over your mask and fogging up the glass a little. “My princess needs punishment to keep her in line, right? A firm hand to properly remind you who’s boss around here. Teach you to show your Olo’eyktan some fucking respect,”

His words shoot fire through your veins, the looming threat more like a heartfelt promise in your eyes, and the coil in your belly tightens as you feel your orgasm approaching. You keen, nodding frantically as your fingernails dig into your palms. “Yes! Yes, daddy! Need you to punish me. Put me in my place - ah!”

He tilts his hips slightly, cockhead rubbing perfectly into that special spot that makes you see stars. He chuckles as your mouth falls open, eyes widening as you stare at him, gaping like a fish as you fight through the pleasure. “Do you have something to ask me, babygirl?”

“P-please,” You grit out, whines and moans ripping from your throat as you try to get the words out. “Please, d-daddy. Please can I c-cum?”

“Aw, my pretty girl wants to cum? You wanna cream all over daddy’s cock? Squeeze it nice and tight with your pretty pussy until daddy fills you up?”

“Yes! Yes, yes, please? Daddy, please, can I?”  

Jake grins, sharp canines digging into his bottom lip. He stops moving you on him, holding you firm against the side of the hut as his hips piston into yours, setting a brutal and unforgiving pace as he mutters a gravelly, “Go ahead, baby. I want my princess to cum on my cock,��

You scream, eyes squeezing shut as the coil in your stomach snaps and your orgasm tears through you. Your legs shake uncontrollably, heels banging against the wall of the hut as they unconsciously kick out, and your fingers curl into unknown signs as you gush around Jake’s pounding cock. 

Through your giddy, fucked out haze, you can feel Jake’s hips stutter against you. He groans, low and guttural as he presses in hard against you, and you let out a content sigh at the feel of him cumming inside you, shooting rope after thick rope of release inside your greedy pussy and painting your walls white  - filling you up so good you think you could sing songs of praise to Eywa about how amazing it feels.

When he’s done, he doesn’t pull out. Instead he stays lodged inside you, hands moving from your arms to wrap around your waist, pulling you away from the wall and cradling you in his arms. He turns and lowers himself carefully to the floor so as to not disturb you so much, and holds you against him, one big hand rubbing soothing circles on your back while the other supports your head. 

“Y/n, you alright?” He asks, nudging your head gently.

You hum, exhausted, but do your best to nod your head anyway.

“Baby, I’m sorry I haven’t been around that much lately. I can see how it’s affecting you. I want you to know that you’re my number one priority, so I’m going to do my best to cut off duties early enough so that I can come home and spend time with my special girl. You deserve that,”

You let his words wash over you and tears once again prick at your eyes, this time with overwhelming emotion. “I’m sorry I was such a brat,”

“You’re not a brat,” He says, fingers sliding gently through your sweat slicked hair. “You’re an angel. My angel,”

He takes a deep breath, eyes cutting across the room to the small wooden table with the fig leaf cradling the various carved up pieces of fruit.

“I saw the fruit by the way. They’re adorable, just like you,”

You don’t say anything, but there’s a small smile on your face as you press your cheek snugly against his chest.

**Special thanks to @pandoraslxna for the prompt!

Taglist: @eywaite @loaksulluyswife @erenjaegerwifee @f-cklife

#lunaskinktober2023 #jake sully smut #jake sully x reader #jake sully x human!reader #jake sully x female reader smut #jake sully x fem!reader #taliewrites

[eyelessfaces]

he'll be gone in the morning

llewyn davis x reader

summary: you wish he would stay. he never does.

alternatively, two times llewyn is gone when you wake up, one time he's not yet.

warnings: there's honestly more smut than plot lol this was an excuse to write llewyn smut; unprotected piv sex (this man never learns), tipsy sex where both parts consent and are aware of what's happening, creampie, oral f receiving, praise kink, both parts are desperate, plot is based on angst, fear of abandonment i guess?, self doubt from both parts, a bit of self sabotaging from llewyn because is it really an oscar isaac character if he's not self destructive

tags: friends to ??lovers I guess, f!reader, unspoken feelings, reader has hair that's long enough to brush away from her face, fluff, yearning

word count: 2.8k

I haven't been sane about llewyn for the past few days. again. it usually takes me weeks to write smut because it makes me go insane but I wrote this in like eight hours so...... yeah. not sane about this man at all.

masterlist | taglist | ao3

updates blog @eyelessupdates

It’s the same as always; he slept there last night, on your worn out couch, too old for him not to get a sore back after a whole night on it. You remember looking back at him as he tucked a pillow behind his head, a soft smile over his lips when he looked over at you before you turned the light off and reluctantly disappeared through the hallway to go to your room, by yourself.

He’s gone now, his own blanket you had gifted him on his most recent birthday messily folded and put back where it usually rests. If it wasn’t for the unfinished cup of coffee and the ashtray gathering a few cigarette butts sitting over your coffee table, it would be like he was never there in the first place.

He almost always disappears before you can join him and tell him good morning, always escapes before you get the opportunity to ask him to stay for one more night, to get him to be sure he has a place to stay at the end of the day.

He never writes notes anymore the way he used to the first few times you let him crash at your place, like he’s now used to your kindness; you don’t mind, you’re glad he feels comfortable staying here to the point where he doesn’t have to apologize when he knocks at your door anymore.

You don’t mind, it’s the whole opposite actually; you just wished he would stay.

—

Your cheeks are hot from the booze, or maybe – no, most definitely – from Llewyn’s mouth on your neck. 

His beard is softly tickling your sensitive skin as he kisses and nips at it, forcing a – treacherous – almost silent whimper out of your mouth at the same time you sink your head into the pillows to grant him more access. It makes him laugh, it fucking makes him laugh smugly to see how he’s turning you into putty in his hands. Your hand instinctively buries in his hair to get a grasp onto something, and he gets a taste of his own little game when you softly tug on his thick curls and earn a small moan from him. Good to know.

Your body only feels warmer when his hands roam along the sides of it, slowly but surely stripping you of your layers until your top half is completely bare as he continues his assault over your neck, biting and sucking on it, making sure there will be visible proof that he went there for the guys staring at you too intensely at the bar to see. 

Then his mouth trails down, again and again. He takes his precious time kissing your collarbone, the top of each breast, from your sternum down to your stomach. You cup the back of his neck as his curls softly tickle your skin and as he brings a special attention to your lower stomach, not giving in what he knows you need, teasing as his fingers press onto your hips before they eventually curl into the hem of your underwear as he continues leaving small, warm kisses to your stomach, sliding the piece of clothing off your hips and down your legs before he tosses it away. 

When he finally moves and spreads your legs apart, it’s not to slide his warm tongue over your cunt like you would expect or hope for, it’s to gently kiss your left thigh and run his hand over your skin burning in the feverish heat of anticipation; the prickle of his beard softly teases the ticklish inside of your thigh, his warm mouth just inches away from where you truly want him, the sensations increased tenfold by the booze. Each trail of his hands and mouth leaves you more sensitive, head spinning already when he’s not even giving you what he knows you truly want from him yet. 

When his mouth shifts again, it’s to give your other thigh the same treatment; soft nibbles while his hand gently caresses your warm skin before he runs the tip of his nose from the inside of your thigh up to your knee, looking back up at you desperately waiting for him to do anything concrete. 

“Llewyn please” you whine needily, throwing your head back into the cushions of your bed as he chuckles and slowly makes his way down to the inside of your thigh again, hot breath teasingly fanning there.

“Tell me what you need, angel” he demands, murmuring close to where you want him as his thumb softly brushes your bare thigh. His eyes dart back to you, raising an eyebrow when you only whine his name as a response.

“You” you slur out, fingers wrapping around his forearm to get something to hold onto. His warm, half lidded eyes make something flutter inside your stomach, his mouth and hot breath close to your soaking slit making your breath halt. “Please”

You softly gasp as both of his hands squeeze the flesh of your ass, firmly grabbing onto it to pull your body closer towards him, no longer intent on teasing you or making you wait; he'd make you beg longer if he wasn't so damn eager to taste you. 

He dives in and presses his flattened tongue against your folds, and you feel the same way you did earlier when you got to your feet after a few drinks; your head spins, your lower stomach burns just the way it did when drinking that whiskey. 

It's a bit messy, a bit rushed and maybe even desperate but not even close to being unpleasant as his tongue laps at your slit, beard harshly rubbing against your sensitive skin. 

He hums to himself as his lips close around your clit, sucking and pulling weak moans out of you, looking up at your through half lidded eyes when his middle finger slowly and carefully pushes inside your slick channel, his free hand stroking along your thigh caging his head. 

He’d praise you more if his mouth wasn’t so damn busy, if your reactions weren’t so damn attractive as he mouthed at you pussy and wouldn't dare stopping, because you look so fucking pretty like this. Disheveled, high on pleasure for him, twitching under his tongue and clenching around the finger inside you.

His ring finger is quick to join alongside the other, stroking your tight walls until he meets the spot that makes your back arch and your breath run short.

He’s barely satisfied until he makes you come on his mouth and fingers twice, until his name and your weak moans and whines are all that can come out of your mouth, until your legs are shaking around his head, until you have to ask him to ease up.

Your chest heaves heavily, your whole body burning and seeming to melt into the mattress from the couple orgasms Llewyn just gave you. You smile dazedly when you look back down at him in between your legs, his cheek mushed against your thigh, his eyes closing contentedly when you run your fingers through his dark locks.

You feel your heart thump hard inside your chest again when he crawls back up to you, his mouth pressing against yours before it opens to let his tongue slip inside.

Your movements are hurried as you fiddle with the buttons of his shirt, impatiently blindly progressively getting it open before you’re finally able to slide it off his shoulders.

You hum a soft, reluctant groan into his mouth when you realize he’s wearing an undershirt, meaning that you’ll have to pull apart from his mouth to get it off. He takes care of the task, stripping himself off the tshirt before throwing it across the room, and quickly links your mouths again when he hovers over you, letting out a deep groan when you cup and feel him through his pants. 

You can't help but smile into the kiss when he chases your touch, all but humping your hand before you pull it away to undo his pants, his tongue desperately licking into your mouth when he hurriedly – and a bit messily – strips himself naked. You’re pulled away from his mouth as he looks down when your hand closes around him and pumps his cock, his breath halting, hips thrusting to meet your movements.

Your leg snakes behind him to pull him closer, your chest burning again with anticipation when he takes his cock in hand and aligns with your entrance. You both let out a synchronized groan as he carefully pushes inside, easily sliding in, your sensitive channel slick from your previous orgasms, but still tight around him. 

He’s gentle as he starts to thrust in, hand firmly planted besides your head, teeth sunk into his bottom lip in concentration. His vision sways from the alcohol; it was way less noticeable when he had his face in between your legs, when he didn’t have to use the rest of his body, when he didn’t have to rely on balance.

His eyes close when your hand cups his cheek, fingers softly scratching his beard while you whisper praises he’s far too gone to truly take into account, too lost in the feeling of your cunt softly contracting around him. His thrusts grow more and more desperate as he goes, less precise, the muscles of his thighs twitching as the familiar feeling quickly starts to gather inside his stomach, exhaling moans like laying in bed with you is a one time opportunity, like it’s the last time he’s ever gonna do this.

“Not gonna last long,” he mumbles dazedly between breaths before you quickly assure him that it’s okay, your hand cupping the back of his neck to pull his face close to yours again.

His tongue mingles with yours in a heated, desperate kiss before he pulls away and sinks his head against your shoulder, huffing out a loud breath when he feels himself getting close, trying not to tip over the edge before you do.

“Come on dove, come on” he begs you, his warm breath fanning over your neck when one of his hands gently holds onto your waist.

He feels like a lucky bastard that you come just seconds before he does; you let a soft cry out as your last orgasm hits you, this one softer than the two previous ones, feeling like a warmth washing through you as Llewyn stills when he reaches his end and spills inside you, eyes rolling back as a soft groan escapes his lips.

His body crumbles over yours as he lets out a loud sigh, pressing small kisses to your cheek, fingers softly running along your arm.

You want to give the affection back to him, want to kiss him until he's out of breath, but all your body does is close your eyes; Llewyn has drawn all the energy out of you, he has loved you until you became numb.

You instinctively know it's early in the morning when your mind awakes, an unpleasant heaviness clouding your head from the alcohol, and a soft ache between your thighs. You hum softly in your still half asleep state, turning around and changing positions to get more comfortable, reaching for the man you spent the night with, hoping you could snuggle to him.

Your eyes are still shut as you reach for Llewyn, your hand only passing along the ruffles and creases of the fitted sheets of your bed.

Your eyes eventually open when you know you have to come to terms with the fact that he’s gone, he’s fucking gone again.

— 

You don’t know how it has happened again when you only wanted to address the issue at first, still mad at him when he knocked and when you opened the door, still mad that he had left like you were just a meaningless one night stand the other night, someone he would never see or hear about again.

But then he seemed so exhausted, so out of it and so crushed by every responsibility resting over his shoulders that you figured it would be better to bother him with the question later instead of overburdening him now.

Then things slipped, again. So fast and so casually at once, like it was simultaneously the right and wrong thing to do. 

You don’t know why he’s in your bed again, but maybe on your part you do, because you will have to one day just admit that you love him.

You can’t help but feel like you’re missing something regarding him. Why is he in your bed again, sober, head resting over your chest and arms tightly wrapped around your waist if it was all the alcohol’s fault that you stepped further into your relationship the other night? Why is he in your bed again if he regretted it last time and felt he had to run away, again?

You swallow thickly as those questions overwhelmingly cloud your mind, trying to chase them away when you continue to absentmindedly run your fingers through his soft, long curls. It’d be a damn mood breaker to trap him into questions like while you’re still enjoying your respective post-high haze, and you would pass as too fucking ungrateful after the things you have just done, but you have to know why he acts like this, why he runs away but somehow always comes back.

“Llewyn,” his name weakly comes out of your mouth, your fingers stopping in their trail. You can hear your own breathing when you await his response, which eventually never comes. 

He's sound asleep; it'll wait, again.

—

You had almost forgotten Llewyn had been there last night when you wake up to the sound of ruffling around the bedroom.

The only source of light in your room is the full moon light seeping through your window, faint but present enough to make you aware of your surroundings.

Llewyn is standing on the other side of the room, gathering his clothes scattered around the room that you so carelessly threw aside when in a hurry last night.

“What’re you doing” you mumble sleepily as you roll over his side of the bed, arm extending as if to reach for him. He looks over at you like a deer caught in headlights, stopping as his pants are already halfway slid up his thighs.

“I uh, I have to head out” he replies in a low mutter as he resumes his action, approaching and shoving in his pocket the pack of cigarettes laying on the bedside table.

“Don’t,” his gaze darts back at you as you speak, stopping in his movements, in fear that he might have heard it wrong. “Stay” you demand, almost beg as you look up at him, almost all ready to go and leave you hanging like always. He exhales softly and sits down over the edge of the bed, hand reaching out to you to brush your hair back from your face. “Please.” you add, tiredly blinking.

“Okay.” he simply declares in a soft whisper, fingers gently tracing your face. Your eyes close as you lean into his touch, sleep still holding a tight grasp over you.

“Why do you keep leaving” you monotonically, weakly ask, your tone successfully translating the hurt you feel. “All the time” 

He halts and pulls away from you, like your reproach suddenly makes him undeserving of touching you. He takes some time before answering, and you're almost lulled back to sleep before the sound of his voice brings you back to reality and makes you open your eyes again. “I don't want you to think I'm doing all this just for a bed to sleep in” he explains, lips pinching skeptically.

You huff out softly, nuzzling against your arm. “It makes me think you're doing this just for a vagina to stick your dick in, Llewyn.”

“Shit, yeah. I'm sorry” he scoffs and sighs, looking out the window in reflection before looking back at you. “It's just– It's the whole opposite. I care about you. I don't wanna fuck this up” he declares, his hand coming to rest over your extended arm. “I didn't start right, I know. I’m sorry angel.” he pauses, softly chewing on his bottom lip. “I thought it was the right thing to do.”

You exhale, somehow ironically relieved that it's only this, that you're not the main part of the problem, that he actually wants you as much as you do. Your stomach flutters at the feeling of his thumb softly rubbing your bare skin, and you weakly but softly smile when you finally look back up at him.

“I only ever wanted you to stay” you mutter, hand reaching to cover his over your arm.

He tiredly smiles back at you, at last erasing the conflicted frown over his face.

“I only ever wanted to stay.”

—

SUPPORT YOUR FANFICS WRITERS, REBLOG, LEAVE A COMMENT, IT IS WHAT KEEPS US GOING!!!!

inside llewyn davis taglist: @apollo-enthusiast @scarabgrant @lockleysgrl @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @missmarmaladeth @alexxavicry @mystinky-butt @anightshift @campingwiththecharmings @dameronshandholder @spider-starry @spxctorsslxt @dowbastan

#llewyn davis #llewyn davis x reader #inside llewyn davis #llewyn davis smut #moon knight #marc spector #steven grant #moon knight x reader #marc spector x reader #steven grant x reader #jake lockley #jake lockley x reader #sorry for the tags it's just to reach more people^^ #oscar isaac

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Little Warrior

Pairing: Sigtryggr Ivarsson (The Last Kingdom) x F!Reader Warnings: Canon typical violence and death, kidnapping, slight Stockholm syndrome, attempted sexual assault, sexual tension, coercion, corruption kink, talk of religious beliefs, female masturbation, loss of virginity, smut. Word count: 4.6k

Summary: When Sigtryggr and his men seize Winchester he takes a special interest in one of their captives (I have essentially yeeted Stiorra from the story and adapted the storyline of how her and Sigtryggr become an item to suit my own). Based on this request.

Author's note: No tag list. Please follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications. Community labels are for cops.

They come in the night. As Winchester sleeps, the Danes descend upon it.

She is woken by the blood curdling shouts and screams of the townspeople, accompanied by the acrid stench of smoke from nearby burning buildings.

Her heart lurches in her chest, panic causing bile to rise in her throat as she acts purely on instinct, scrambling from her bed and out of the house wearing just her nightdress. The only thought in her mind is that she doesn’t want to die trapped in her home as it’s burned to the ground.

Once she is outside, she watches wide eyed with horror at the destruction around her. Buildings are ablaze, people lay dead and dying upon the ground, the thick coppery scent of blood makes her want to vomit.

It’s only when the coolness of the night air begins to chill her skin that she realises just how perilous her situation is - a thin layer of cotton is all that separates her flesh from the horrors around her. She worries about what these Heathens will do to her if they see her in such a state of undress.

She trembles at the thought, dread gnawing at her insides. It’s too risky to go back inside, her only option is to hide. She takes her chances beneath an overturned farmer’s cart, crawling beneath the gap and cowering, waiting for the chaos around her to die down.

Clutching the cross around her neck, she sends up a silent prayer to God to keep her safe. Her destiny is in his hands now.

The aching in her joints for having been crouched for so long is beginning to become unbearable when the noise eventually quietens. She wonders if the Danes have left, if King Edward will return to rescue Winchester or if they have managed to capture it in his absence. Where are the Wessex guard?

She freezes when she hears the sound of approaching boots upon the ground, her heart hammers wildly against her ribcage when they come to a stop in front of the cart she’s hiding under.

“I can see your feet, Christian”, comes the voice of a man. He speaks softly and quietly, and it sends shivers down her spine.

Too paralyzed by fear to do anything, she remains as she is, her breaths coming quick and shallow, a rapidly dying hope in the back of her mind that he might give up and leave her alone. But there is no such luck.

“You will come out,” he commands, “or I will drag you out, the choice is yours.”

She clamps a hand over her mouth to muffle the frightened whimper that escapes her, attempting to force herself further back against the wooden confines of her misguided hiding place.

A large hand appears beneath the cart, reaching towards her before wrapping itself around her ankle.

She shrieks, thrashing against the hold it has on her as she’s dragged out. She lays wide eyed on the cold earth, her breathing erratic, as she looks with terror upon the Dane that towers above her prone form.

His long brown hair is wild and unkempt, half of it pulled back, and a ragged scar runs the length of the left side of his face. He regards her with mild amusement and she becomes aware again of her state of undress.

The thought that he might rape her sends her senses into overdrive, pure adrenaline driving her decision making. She knows she’s in no position to run, her only other option is to fight him, so as he crouches down towards her, she lunges upwards, slapping and scratching at his face and shoulders.

He is quick to overpower her, pulling her to her feet and twisting her arm behind her back.

“A fearsome little warrior, she is,” he chuckles, keeping her arm taut behind her as he gently urges her forward. 

He guides her towards the front steps of the King’s estate, where several people are kneeling before a group of Danes. As they draw closer she recognises a few of them; King Edward’s sons and a few of the Wessex guard.

She is certain she’ll be killed. The man presses on her shoulder, urging her to kneel beside the other captives. She takes up her position, the stone step is hard against her knees, and she is all too aware that she is the least valuable of everyone gathered there.

“Send them to where they keep their dead King,” the man says, looking at Edward’s children and then nodding towards the chapel.

“We need to send a message to Edward,” a dark haired, heavily pregnant woman says, as two of the Danish men pick up the boys and carry them off. “We must force him to yield Winchester to us.”

It makes her shudder to think that this woman will be a mother, when she is capable of such atrocities. 

“And what do you propose, Brida?” He responds.

Brida regards her with a look that makes her blood run cold. She has never seen anyone look at her as though she is worth less than nothing, her brown eyes are filled with utter contempt. “Send him her head,” she tells him, “it is more shocking to Christians when you are prepared to kill women and children alike.”

She gasps audibly, stricken by terror at the notion that they intend to behead her, until she feels his hand upon her shoulder.

“You will not touch her,” he says cooly, “slaughter the men, but she stays with me.”

“And what will you do with her?” Brida asks, raising an eyebrow.

“That is for me to decide,” he responds dismissively.

He makes a cut throat gesture at the Danes that flank Brida, then nods towards the kneeling guards, before pulling her back to her feet and directing her inside of the King’s estate.

She winces as she hears the sound of blades making thick, wet impact upon flesh, followed by dying screams of agony. Despite her shock and disgust, she cannot help the twinge of relief that lightens the feeling in her chest that that is not what destiny has in store for her, at least not yet.

The room that he brings her to is what she assumes is a study. It is filled with books, maps and writing materials, the space is occupied by a wooden writing desk, a chair and a settee.

As her eyes travel around the room, taking in her surroundings, she’s startled out of her reverie when her gaze settles back upon him. He is standing so close, silently observing her, his expression unreadable.

Once more she is reminded of how little she is wearing, and now that she is alone with him, fear of what he might do to her returns in earnest.

“S-stay back,” she stammers, backing away, eyes scanning the room for something, anything, that she can use as a weapon.

He smirks, unmoving, as he looks her over from head to toe. “Be calm, little warrior. Do you know who I am?”

Her face contorts in confusion. “No…”

He straightens, tilting his head slightly, clasping his arms behind his back. “I am Sigtryggr Ivarsson. I am a Dane. If I wish to hump a woman I do not need to do so by force.”

She softens slightly, fear does not grip her heart quite so icily as before. His name is meaningless to her, but she is relieved that he means her no harm.

Sigtryggr leans in, his breath tickling the shell of her ear. “But make no mistake, little warrior, I will have you, and you will beg me for it.”

She draws back quickly in disgust - not at his words, but at the reaction they elicit from her. The way warmth pools in her lower belly fills her with immense guilt. This man has invaded her home and killed people she knows, people she loves, she should despise him.

Swallowing thickly, unease prickling at her, she elects to change the subject. “What have you come here for?”

“To take what I am owed,” he says simply.

“And what is it you believe you’re owed?”

“Land. Your people drove me from mine,” he explains, anger lacing his tone, “your boy King will give back what he stole, or I shall keep Winchester and send him the heads of his children.”

She inhales shakily, feeling like she wants to cry. “A-and…how do I factor into all of that?”

He softens, shrugging slightly. “You don’t, but I can’t imagine your King will yield quickly, and it is always nice to have company. You are brave, for a Christian.”

“So I am your prisoner?”

“No, little warrior. You are free to leave any time you’d like, and take your chances with Brida.”

The implication is not lost on her. Her freedom is an illusion when the alternative is death. Sigtryggr is her only guarantee for safety.

“Shall we find something else for you to wear?” He asks, raising an eyebrow.

She looks down at the thin material of her shift, seeing how dirty it is from having been crouched beneath the cart, dragged out and then forced to kneel on the steps of the estate. Her cheeks heat up with embarrassment.

“Yes, please,” she whispers.

He nods. “Wait here.”

Sigtryggr leaves her alone in the study, not bothering to lock the door behind him - a sign of his confidence that he knows she won’t try to escape.

He returns a few moments later with a white cotton shift that is similar to the one she is currently wearing, She assumes it belongs to Ælflæd, something he has found within a bedchamber.

“Where is the rest of it?” She asks.

“What do you mean? It’s the same as what you have on, and it’s clean,” he says simply.

“Yes, but this is meant to go under–” she sighs, “nevermind.”

She takes the shift from him and begins to change, noting the way that he turns from her, keeping his eyes fixed on the shelves of books that line the walls of the room. The small mark of respect makes her smile. She had not anticipated such manners from a Heathen.

He pulls a book from the shelf when she is finished, flipping through its pages. “Can you read?”

She nods and he hands the tome to her.

“Read to me.”

“Can you not read?” She asks with a raise of her eyebrow.

“I can,” he says with a smirk, “but where’s the fun in that?”

She sighs, settling into the chair in front of the writing desk, while Sigtryggr sits upon the settee a few feet away, and she reads to him.

Over the next few weeks their days are spent much like this. She reads aloud to him, though none of the books are particularly interesting, mostly religious texts and historical records of Wessex. She’s not convinced that he pays any particular attention to the words, but he seems to enjoy the sound of her voice.

They find a Hnefatafl board and Sigtryggr teaches her how to play. They while away hours strategising ways to remove each other's pieces from the board. He has a sharp mind, is calmer and more analytical than any other Dane she’s ever met. He bests her with his cunning multiple times, until she finally begins to get the hang of it and he begins to lose to her.

“Another game?” She asks. “How many have I won now?”

He shoots her a sideways glance, a faint smile upon his lips. “I am not keeping count.”

She giggles. She is beating him, but he does not seem to mind.

They sleep upon furs and blankets that Sigtryggr has brought down to the study and fashioned into a makeshift bed. Her stomach flutters at laying in such close proximity to him, but true to his word he never touches her. Shame blooms hotly in her chest as each of the days pass and she finds herself yearning for it.

He brings her food, and the hopelessness of the situation looms over her as with every meager meal the bread tastes more stale.

“Read to me, little warrior,” he requests, reclining on the settee, his forearm slung over his forehead.

She grouses, hunger pangs causing her stomach to rumble painfully. “I cannot concentrate,” she whispers.

“What is the matter?” He asks, sitting up to look at her.

“I am hungry. I’m always hungry.”

He nods, stepping towards her and offering her his share of the bread.

She looks from his outstretched hand to his face uncertainly. “What will you eat?”

“I will manage, and you will read to me,” he tells her, as she takes the offering and he settles back down.

She smiles to herself at the gesture, warmth spreading throughout her. So she eats, and she reads to him.

Sigtryggr disappears each day, leaving her alone in the study. She only leaves to bathe and to relieve herself, but she is perfectly happy to stay put and await his return, especially when she is all too aware of the alternative.

Each day when he returns he brings news of the continuing siege. King Edward and the Wessex guard surround the walls of Winchester, but will not attack as his sons are being kept captive in the chapel. They have yet to yield to Sigtryggr’s demands for land.

She fiddles with the cross around her neck, eyeing the Mjölnir that sits around his carefully. “Can there not be a peaceful resolution?”

"It is more difficult to live peacefully with enemies than to fight them,” he tells her.

“But we live peacefully,” she retorts.

“We are not enemies, little warrior.”

The sentiment makes her heart flutter, though there is the lingering question in the back of her mind; what are we?

He leaves her alone again as usual one morning and she busies herself poring over maps to pass the time.

She turns when she hears footsteps, expecting to see Sigtryggr but instead it is a man she does not recognise. He appears Saxon, so she cannot understand why the Danes have allowed him to move around the estate so freely.

The stench of ale upon him as he draws closer is nauseating. His eyes hold malicious intent as he advances towards her, and her blood runs cold at the sight.

She stands, backing away from him. “Whatever you are planning to do, please reconsider,” she pleads, “Sigtryggr will punish you if anything happens to me.”

“I have allied myself with the Danes,” he slurs, “but at what cost? They treat me like a dog, while Sigtryggr coddles you. Tell me, whore, is your cunt really that good? Perhaps I ought to find out for myself.”

She yelps as he lunges for her, grabbing her and pinning her against the desk. Fury flashes through her as she struggles against him, attempting to free herself from his hold.

“Whatever treatment they give you, you have brought upon yourself, traitor,” she spits.

Her head snaps to the side, a sharp sting spreads across her cheek as he strikes her.

She barely has time to adjust her focus before she feels him forcefully being pulled off of her.

“Eardwulf!” Sigtryggr snarls angrily. “Fucking coward!”

His fist makes impact with Eardwulf’s face knocking him to the ground, before he is dragged away.

She curls up on the furs, shaking as tears stream down her cheeks, waiting for her heart rate to calm. What could have happened to her if Sigtryggr had not returned when he did doesn’t bear thinking about.

She is unsure of how much time has passed when he returns.

“Are you alright?”

She turns towards the sound of his voice, gasping when she sees he’s covered in blood. Rushing towards him, she places her hands upon his face. “You are hurt…”

Softly he grasps her wrists, keeping her hands where they are. “This blood is not mine, and Eardwulf will not hurt you ever again.”

Her lips part in shock at the thought that he has killed for her, saved her life twice now. She studies his face, taking in the stormy blue of his eyes, the fullness of his lips.

She allows her gaze to linger there for just a moment too long, embarrassment making her hot, eager to distract herself. She traces a finger over the scar that runs the length of the left side of his face.

“How did this happen?”

“A man tried to take my eye during battle,” he explains softly, “so I took his life.”

“But you were hurt.”

“Injured, yes. Left with a scar, yes. But very much alive.”

“As am I, thanks to you.”

She drops her hands from his face and he steps away from her, pulling off his blood soaked light armour and clothing.

She feels her throat run dry at the sight of his bare torso, all lean, lithe battle hardened muscle, adorned with scars. She longs to trace her fingers over each of them.

Looking away, she feels ashamed for harbouring such thoughts and desperately tries to ignore the throbbing ache in her core.

As night falls and Sigtryggr lays asleep beside her, the feeling that lingers between her legs has yet to subside. It is maddening, robbing her of rest. Every time she closes her eyes the image of him stood bare chested before her enters her mind.

She has never touched herself before, it is impure to do so, yet she needs relief or she is sure she will go mad.

Sparing a glance in the darkness towards Sigtryggr, she makes sure his eyes are closed before reaching a tentative hand between her legs. She lets out a shaky sigh as her fingers make impact against the sensitive flesh.

She is not quite sure what she is supposed to do, but finds that a combination of rubbing the area and bucking softly against her hand feels most pleasurable, so continues to do that, holding her free hand over her mouth to muffle the sounds she makes.

There is a feeling that builds within her, a zenith that she feels she must press towards, so she continues in earnest, until finally she feels something within her release and her entire body shudders, a soft moan stifled against her lips as white hot pleasure rolls through her body.

Laying there afterwards she does her best to calm her breaths, feeling guilty for having done something so depraved.

She is startled by Sigtryggr’s voice beside her. “If only you’d beg, little warrior, I could do that for you.”

Her breath hitches and she quickly turns away from him. Not knowing what to say, she feigns sleep, clutching her cross and praying silently that he’ll forget.

She is grateful when he speaks of it no further, and life goes back to normal, or at least what normal is for them.

That is until a couple of weeks later when Brida storms her way into the study, clearly having grown impatient with the lack of progress being made.

“It has been more than thirty days since we captured Winchester, and your negotiations with the Saxon King are not working, Sigtryggr,” she glowers at him, “the time for talking is over. We are killing more captives.”

She does not miss the way that Brida’s eyes linger upon her as she says this, a shiver of fear causes her skin to break out into gooseflesh.

“I will choose who we execute, not you,” Sigtryggr tells her.

“You cannot protect this Saxon forever,” Brida retorts.

“Oh, but I can,” he says, placing himself protectively between her and Brida. “She is mine, and I will decide what happens to her.”

Brida scoffs, turning and leaving. Sigtryggr follows, leaving her alone to ponder the fact that he has once more saved her life.

When he comes back several hours later, he looks so tired. The expression he wears is one of defeat and she feels her heart ache for him.

“Read to me,” he says softly, sitting heavily upon the settee.

She regards him quietly, she wants to comfort him. She wants to comfort herself. She has grown weary of denying him.

Before she has time to think about what she’s doing, she crosses the room, and places herself upon his lap, her thighs astride his.

“What are you do–”

His words are cut off as she presses her lips to his eagerly, before pulling away. “I’m begging, Sigtryggr, please. I–”

He surges forward, kissing her again, his mouth possessing hers hungrily as he grasps her hips, lifting her as he stands to deposit her onto the makeshift bed upon the floor, his body caging hers in against the furs.

“I knew you’d give in, little warrior,” he whispers against her neck, kissing his way down her throat to her collarbone.

His fingers toy with the hem of the shift she wears, a silent plea for consent in his eyes as he looks at.

She swallows thickly and nods, nervousness and excitement fluttering ceaselessly in her stomach.

He pulls the garment over her head, throwing it to the side before sitting back on his haunches to admire her.

“Gods…you were worth the wait. So beautiful,” he whispers reverently.

She squirms beneath his gaze, turning her head away at the intimacy of the gesture, feeling shy and uncomfortable.

“Look at me,” he tells her softly. His fingers grasp her jaw, turning her face back to him.

Slowly he undresses, until he is as naked as she is. She feels the familiar ache between her thighs as she drinks in the sight of him, chiseled and battle hardened.

“Now we are equal,” he reassures her.

He reaches for the cross around her neck, toying with it between his fingers, before giving a quick, hard tug, causing the cord to give way. “What we are about to do is no business of your nailed god,” he tells her, tossing it to one side.

He kisses her once more, slower this time, their mouths saving the feel of the other’s against it. Trailing featherlight kisses down her body until he reaches her breasts, he wraps his lips around one of their hardened peaks, sucking gently.

The sensation causes her to moan, a pleasurable sensation shooting through her body, pooling into wet warmth between her legs as she arches against him. 

Sigtryggr repeats the motion on the opposite breast, before descending further down, leaving wet kisses in his wake.

She freezes up when he grips her thighs, placing them over his shoulders so that his face is level with her most intimate of parts.

“What…what are you doing?” She asks anxiously.

“I’m going to taste you,” he says matter of factly, making pointed eye contact.

“You cannot do that,” she protests weakly, “it is an unclean thing to do.”

He grins at her, shaking his head slightly. “Christian,” the word leaves his mouth as a half hearted insult, before he presses forward.

The first swipe of his tongue against her folds causes her to gasp, her hands burying themselves in his hair as he uses his grip on her thighs to pull her closer, his tongue moving against her firmer, deeper, faster.

A groan of satisfaction rumbles in his throat, the vibrations causing her insides to clench as she bucks against his face, chasing the edge of oblivion that his tongue is pressing her towards.

He sucks at her pearl, before laving his tongue over it and she cries out as she spasms against his mouth, ecstasy numbing all of her senses as he continues to lap at her.

Once she relaxes, he pulls away, sitting back between her legs, his chin slick with her juices. His fist runs over the length of his cock as he takes in her blissful state and her eyes widen as she sees the size of him.

He is thick, long and slightly curved. She has never looked upon anyone’s manhood before and she trembles as she wonders how it will possibly fit inside of her.

Sensing her trepidation, Sigtryggr caresses her cheek with his palm. “Relax, little warrior, I have prepared you well.”

He presses the head of himself against her entrance and she braces herself, but then he stops. Her eyes flit to his questioningly.

“Beg for it,” he whispers.

She whines, wanting to hide her face in furs that they lay upon.

“Beg,” he says again, more insistently.

“Please,” he pushes forward, aided by her arousal and release, “please,” he pushes forward again, more of her swallowing him up, accompanied by the sensation of stretching and the slightest of stings, “please,” he pushes forward once more, finally sheathed fully inside of her.

She realises as he settles on top of her, giving her a moment to get used to the feeling of him, that this was merely a means to distract her so that she wouldn’t focus on the possibility of it hurting and grow tense. She smiles, stroking the wild tresses of his dark hair. Always so cunning.

He withdraws his hips slowly, before carefully pushing forward again. He repeats the motion several times, watching her face carefully.

As her breathing quickens, her brow relaxing as her jaw begins to slacken, he increases his pace, hips snapping against hers faster and faster, their kisses frenzied as they pant into each other’s mouths.

She feels him throb inside of her, the sensation pushes her back towards the precipice she’d fallen over earlier, but before she reaches it he is pulling out, spilling pearlescent ropes of spend across her belly.

He wipes her clean with a blanket, discarding it before laying down beside her and pulling her into his arms. A satisfied ache settles within her, she feels she could fall asleep like this, but his voice lulls her back to full consciousness.

“I have released the King’s sons back to him,” he tells her quietly.

“What will happen now?”

“He is sending a warrior named Uhtred into Winchester to negotiate terms, if I accept those terms then my men and I will move on.”

Her heart sinks. She cannot bear the thought of him leaving, not now she knows what it’s like to be in his arms. “Oh,” is all she is able to muster, pressing tighter to him.

They fall into a quiet doze, until he gently squeezes her shoulder. “I must go and speak with Uhtred.”

She watches sadly, quietly, as he dresses. He leans down to kiss her before he leaves and she pushes her lips eagerly to his. If he is to abandon her then she will cling to every last moment until he does.

When Sigtryggr returns later, she is dressed in her shift again, though her cross remains discarded. She is seated by the window, staring listlessly out of it.

He carries a bundle of clothing in his arms and she looks at him curiously.

“To keep you warm,” he explains, deepening her confusion.

“What do you mean?”

“I have discussed terms with Uhtred and we have reached an agreement. I will leave Winchester, on the condition that you accompany me…not as my prisoner, but as my woman.”

She grins, running into his arms and wrapping her arms around his neck.

As they ride away from Winchester, side by side on horseback, she does not feel as though she is leaving her life behind. On the contrary, it has just begun.

#sigtryggr #sigtryggr x reader #sigtryggr imagine #sigtryggr smut #sigtryggr the last kingdom #sigtryggr TLK #sigtryggr ivarsson #sigtryggr x y/n #sigtryggr x you #the last kingdom #TLK #sigtryggr fan fiction #sigtryggr fanfiction #sigtryggr fanfic #sigtryggr fan fic #the last kingdom smut #TLK smut #the last kingdom fan fiction #the last kingdom fanfiction #the last kingdom fan fic #the last kingdom fanfic

[swanimagines]

SLEEP THIEF | MORPHEUS

Summary: You, being plagued by a sleep thief called insomnia, managed to free Dream a few months back. Now he wants to pay you back by finding a cure for your insomnia - and maybe because he has developed feelings for you.

Once, in the realm of dreams, where reality bends and imagination takes shape, Dream of the Endless found himself trying to help a mortal, who suffered from a condition that prevented her to visit his kingdom.

Insomnia. That relentless thief of sleep that plagued your every night. Despite always being tired, having eyebags and looking old beyond your years, you were always kind to Dream. Somehow you had sensed he was a vital part in the world, and in little, tiny gestures over two years, you helped him with every way you could. “Accidentally” swiping your feet over the summoning ring. Guards hadn’t slept well, so they fell to sleep after drinking your special tea. Little things - and eventually, your constant, diligent effort was worth it and Dream got himself out. You didn’t know what had been the thing that made the trick, but his glass prison was shattered and the guards didn’t remember much - it was concluded the summoning ring had weakened over time and Dream could finally push through it.

You got fired from the mansion with the rest of the workers after Mr. Burgess was cursed with eternal nightmares and your services weren’t needed anymore - and within the first week of you tossing and turning in the bedroom of your new apartment, you got a visitor - startled by a man with glowing eyes standing in the corner of the room, almost letting out a scream before you recognised him and turned on your bedside lamp with a smile.

“Dream? Is it… really you? I thought you were gone, that I would never see you again,” you mumbled, beaming as you sat up properly. “I… I knew you got out, but I thought you’d be busy to get the world rolling again.”

Dream smiled softly, taking a step towards you. Then he spoke, with a deep voice - to be honest, you hadn’t expected him to sound like that. “Yes, it is I. I have returned to express my gratitude for the compassion and help you offered me when I needed it the most. The world is on its track again, and you are to thank for that.”

You smiled back bashfully, looking at your hands fiddling with your blanket. “It was a human thing to do. I knew your captivity was a reason why the world was messed up. I’m happy you popped by, it’s good to see you’re alright.”

Dream was quiet for a moment, studying you. Then he spoke again. “I wish to grant you the gift of sleep. You have suffered from the lack of it for so long, and a mortal like you does not deserve such a fate. It is not caused by my absence, but I want to help you with it.”

You frowned, looking up to him. “I’ve always had it. Sleeping pills help somewhat, but even they might not let me sleep throughout the whole night. Are you sure that- I mean, I know you can do it, you’re the king of dreams, after all. But are you sure your help will last? I read it may originate from the way brains are built, and I don’t know if you’re able to change it. You can’t have time to guard my sleep every night, can you?”

Dream was quiet for a moment. “I will do everything I can in my power to ensure you will be able to sleep your nights without struggle. For tonight, my sand will have to do.”

And with that, he took out his pouch and you, knowing what he was about to do, settled under your covers. You looked at Dream as he placed the sand on the palm of his hand and the last thing you saw was him blowing the powder-like sand on your face, and you fell asleep on that very moment.

—

“Are you sure about this, Dream?” Matthew asked as he flew by his master, settling onto one of the many chairs in the library. “Humans and Endless rarely mix well. You know it could be dangerous. The potential consquences could be destructive.”

Dream didn’t even look up to his companion as he read one of the many books he owned. “She showed me kindness during my captivity. It is time for me to repay that debt.”

Matthew was quiet and used the time to ponder his next words to groom himself. Then he tilted his head, studying his friend. “Are you planning to act on your feelings?”

Dream paused for a moment, tapping his fingers on the cover of the book. Then he finally looked up to his friend. “I understand your concerns, Matthew. But should we deny ourselves happiness only because the risk of heartbreak it may involve?”

Matthew sighed. “I suppose not.”

Lucienne emerged from behind the corner. “Your devotion for her is undeniable. And your wish to help her through her condition is noble - but remember the consequences what could happen if she starts to dwell in dreams and forget to live. You may get blindsided about what will lie ahead if you let your feelings overwhelm your senses.”

“I am aware, Lucienne,” Dream said, lowering his eyes back down and tracing his finger across the page of the book. “I do not know if she feels the same way. It may be she does not return my feelings for her.”

Matthew and Lucienne exchanged a glance, before the librarian handed a book to Dream. “I believe this book will help with her condition. Just… be careful, my lord.”

Dream’s eyes flickered up again, and he nodded slightly. “Thank you, Lucienne.”

And so, Matthew and Lucienne left Dream alone - he would find a cure for you, let you visit his Kingdom. And even if it would never be anything more than friendship, Dream would enjoy having you around in his Kingdom every night, walking with you through the field and listen to you telling about your day. 

It had been a while since he had had a mortal human friend - Hob being immortal - but he had a feeling that you could be one of his greatest friends who have ever lived.

---

Requests are always open! FANDOM LIST | PROMPT LIST(S) | RULES (READ!!!)

#morpheus x reader #morpheus #dream of the endless x reader #dream of the endless #the sandman #the sandman x reader #morpheus x y/n #morpheus x you #morpheus fic #the sandman fic #reader insert #female reader #my works

[drifting-pieces-blog-blog]

It's not Jake.

I'm going to tackle this bit now. It will forever bother me. I think it will forever be a point of argument in the fandom until the word of god (Diab) comes down and explains it all. Even then, there will always be room for argument.

So let's argue.

Marc with Dr. Harrow. I missed it the first time I watched it. (It was on a small screen with poor sound. I should have turned on the subtitles.)

He doesn't know what's going on. He doesn't know where he is but he feels terrible and he's in a situation he's been in before.

Marc knows how to play the game. He might be bad at social situations, but Marc is stubborn and despite his self destructive tendencies, he's a survivor.

From knowing how to please his mother to keep her happy to knowing how to keep the school happy to keeping his father happy.

He also knows how to keep the doctors happy.

You can see the wheels turning as he figures out what Dr. Harrow is looking for and what the right thing to say is. You see him looking around and taking everything in the room in.

Something he learned in the military and then as a mercenary. What is around him? Know the land. Know the space. Know the tools. Know the exits. Know the enemy.

It's so subtle how his eyes move and stare. Every movement of his body is absolutely still and stiff except his eyes. Don't move. Don't draw attention. Don't give yourself away.

He talks about the talking hippo. Corrects him stubbornly. Like a child correcting a parent that gets their drawing or story wrong.

He talks briefly about Steven. He really doesn't want to discuss Steven with Dr. Harrow. Even now, he's trying to protect Steven.

Honestly, Marc is probably unsettled by how Quiet Steven is being. He can't hear him. He can't feel him. He was reaching for him before in his reflection.

Has this happened before? Are the drugs messing him up? Is this even real? You can see it in his eyes as he is trying to work out what has happened. What if it's real? What if Dr. Harrow is right and all of it was in his head?

But he knows things are off. You see him look at the cane and the sandles. He KNOWS something is wrong, but he can't place it.

And then Dr. Harrow asks about the boy.

Now Marc knows this is wrong. He would never have talked about Randall. This is the last thing he'd ever willingly bring up.

You see him instantly shut down and he's made his decision.

I've seen a LOT of arguments that this is Jake. But I don't think so. We, the audience, have not been properly introduced to Jake and his face has been purposfully hidden from us each time he does flicker in. This is not Jake. Jake is still hidden. And Jake would NOT have tolerated Dr. Harrow.

Even if Dr. Harrow was a new alter (persecutor?) created after being killed, Jake would have put him in his place. As protector and possible Gate Keeper, NONE of what's going on would have been tolerated at all. Jake is organized and patient. Jake takes charge when needed and gets the job done.

This is Marc. This is the Marc Spector that you don't see.

As I mentioned in a previous post, Marc cannot mask in the Duat. Every piece of Marc you see is pure and uncensored.

You see Marc play the game but the second Roro comes up, Marc is done.

This is the Marc that is dangerous (Mercinary, special forces, Marines, skilled beyond reason in combat) and also the Marc that is desperate. He's cornered and he will chew his own leg off to get out.

He doesn't know what's out there, but he knows that Steven is being kept away and he needs him.

So why does Marc grab the sharp pointy pyramid? Why does it look like he's trying to first stab them then stab himself?

Well, up to this point, Marc has figured out that he's been shot. He's found Steven outside of his body in a very unlikely situation, and nothing feels real.

He's also jumping scenes. From being with Dr. Harrow to being with Steven.

A part of him is scared it's real. A part of him is scared it isn't.

If it isn't real, how can he get out of it? Perhaps if he takes more damage he'll go somewhere else. Perhaps he'll go back to Steven. Perhaps he thinks it's a dream and he'll wake up next to Layla.

Look at his face. Beaten up. Broken nose. Heavy bags under his eyes. One pupil even looks larger than the other. Severe bodily trauma. (From getting shot? From getting into fights? From some form of brain damage?)

Now, speaking of Jake... I wonder how much of Teenage Marc was really Teenage Jake trying to keep them safe. I can't imagine their teen years being good at all. There's a good chance that their teenage years were utter misery and things probably escalated to terrible depths.

(Anyone else notice that three times we see Baby Marc, it's his birthday? I'm willing to bet every birthday his mother came for him viciously.)

I'm willing to bet that any previous clash he had with a mental hospital deeply involved Jake. One of them started fights and one of them played the game. Marc would get into fights, but Marc also knows how to play the game thanks to his mother. Jake would have wanted them out of there. He may have fought or he may have tried to take control to keep them safe.

So in this situation, Marc has been separated away from Steven, his emotional support and protection. He has been separated away from his physical protection and stabilizer.

And Jake DOES stabilize Marc. When Marc flies off the handle in a rage. When he has flashbacks. When he gets drunk and trashes a hotel room... Who steps in to settle things down? (JAKE'S FUCKING GLOVES WERE IN THAT HOTEL ROOM ON THE NIGHT STAND AS IF THEY HAD BEEN WORN AND TOSSED ASIDE. JAKE WAS THERE.)

So without all of Marc's safe guards, Marc is sitting there in a terrifying situation and his biggest trauma is brought up by a man that he knows he can't trust.

Look at how the episode starts. The cave. The running water. The screaming boy for help. His mother blaming him. It's all right there. Right on the edge of his mind like a bad flashback.

The last thing he wants is to be back in that cave again. Is to see his brother drowning again.

He's going to fight. If he wasn't so disabled by the drugs and injuries he would have burned the whole building to the ground if he could have.

I do have to wonder, though... Marc keeps going back to Dr. Harrow when things get too stressful there. Like a sort of time out. A time for him to try to process and make sense of things. He breaks down when Steven demands to go back to the room. Total melt down. The time out forces him to deal with it. To see it.

Even Steven goes there when he becomes overwhelmed and needs a time out to see what's really going on.

Dr. Harrow was very interested in speaking to Steven. He even mentions that it had been a long time since he had seen Steven. That Steven was the one that brought them there.

It's doubtful that Jake ever made it there. Dr. Harrow (and the real Harrow) had no idea about Jake. And Marc doesn't know about Jake, as this is Marc's processing time.

But what if Jake had made it there? What if Jake had it all figured out? What if Jake had gotten locked up on purpose?

Steven and Jake, literally compartmentalized by Marc.

Perhaps a Meta for another day.

#Moon Knight #Moon Knight Meta #Marc Spector #YOU GUYS HAVE NO IDEA WHAT THE REWATCH IS DOING TO ME #Stop using this scene as an excuse to make Jake look like the unhinged violent one #It's Marc

[animeyanderelover]

Hiii, I don't see much of Jujutsu Kaisen so that's what I'll be requesting:

1. Happy deathday (Gojo, sukuna, nanami, Mahito, the 1st years)

2. Their reaction to s/o being able to nullify their ability (Gojo, sukuna, Mahito)

You can add other characters you'd like and think might be interesting.

Tw: Yandere themes, toxic relationship, possessive behavior, obsession, delusional behavior, manipulation, gaslighting, clinginess, paranoia, controlling behavior, sadism, isolation

S/o can nullify their abilities

Ryomen Sukuna

🗾I can see his s/o very well being assigned to Yuji as soon as the boy has swallowed Sukuna’s finger. The King of Curses himself doesn’t do much besides cackling over you as he sees you as nothing more but a mere babysitter. It has definitely happened that his mouth has popped up on Itadori’s face, tauntingly questioning you about what you hope to do once he actually gains control. You never appear shaken though, always fairly calm and composed as you reply to him before Yuji slaps the mouth shut and apologizes to you. Sukuna is always watching and he definitely observes your confident exterior which does elicit his curiosity. What exactly can you do? What are your abilities? He wants to test you, to see if you are only bark and no bite or if you can stand for your words. Yuji’s naïve wish to protect people is exploited for Sukuna’s own use and soon he snatches the chance to gain control of Yuji whilst he is in your presence. He is fully prepared to kill you if you don’t prove yourself.

🗾Only that the situation never escalates to a battle as all you do is touch him and seal his powers away, forcing him back inside Yuji’s mind. You don’t want to risk any unnecessary destruction. So you just brush him off as nothing? Who do you think you are? It’s a rare humiliation Sukuna has to suffer on that day as you aren’t even willing to fight him and label it as unneeded. He’s seething, his words from that day on filled with a lot more spite but you always reply with an equal amount of sass and snarl. He really has to work on that mouth on yours. As infuriated as he is though, he can’t deny that there isn’t a spark of attraction within this all though. He definitely has to put you in your place but your unique ability to cancel someone else’s technique is, even if quite plain-looking, definitely the ultimate counter against anyone. You’d definitely be useful in his later schemes to help him to regain all of his fingers and to get his original body back.

🗾The verbal banter between the two of you keeps going on as both of you essentially see who can deliver the heavier blow with their insults. A part of Sukuna is definitely yearning for a chance to get another chance to fight you physically but for now he has to be satisfied with this. He can’t deny it though, he is enjoying this by now quite a lot. He’ll tolerate this bratty and rebellious behavior of yours for as long as he is stuck inside the boy’s mind. As soon as Uraume has revealed themself, Sukuna is ordering his servant to keep a special eye on you for as long as he still hasn’t regained a body over which he has full control. You absolutely can’t die now that he has gotten so incredibly interested in you. As much as he would love to search for you right now and get his rematch, he feels his control slowly fading away. There is a sadistic grin on his face though as he takes one final glance at the havoc he has caused in Shibuya. He can’t wait to see your reaction of despair, knowing that it was your job to prevent something like this from happening.

Gojo Satoru

🩵He has always had a particular interest in you. Although you are a low-ranked sorcerer, there has always been something that has made Gojo’s day that much more delightful. Is it your frustrated facade whenever he is teasing the living daylight out of you? Is it the way you pout whenever you feel a bit neglected? Whatever it is, Gojo is absolutely obsessed about it and just can’t stop himself from always following you around. He is the worst attention-seeker possible and he either annoys you to have you focus on him or he is being more considerate and buys you expensive presents to gain your attention and maybe even some praise and a kiss out of gratitude. Honestly, he wouldn’t have minded if it would have stayed that way. But then you just had to develop this Domain Expansion of yours, didn’t you? An ability that completely eradicates all Cursed Energy within except your own, that drains the energy of all foreign living beings within and only strengthens you in return. Suddenly your popularity breaks through the roof.

🩵Suddenly Gojo’s perception of you changes as well. It is a development he doesn’t want to accept. You were supposed to only be this adorable sorcerer he knew about and paid attention to. You weren’t supposed to be the center of attention, be it good or bad. You weren’t supposed to be like him. He knows that the stronger and unique one’s powers are, the more likely they are to be targeted by those who fear such strength. Even if he has no proof for it, Gojo’s paranoia suddenly appears. What if you are really targeted by someone? What if you are killed by someone? The change in atmosphere when he is around you is palpable as he is a lot more rigid and his blue eyes are always darting around as if he fears that someone or something will come for your life at any moment. For a little while this is all he mainly thinks about as he tries to butter up to you by telling you about the experiences he has had as a child to justify his overly clingy behavior. It isn’t long until he has another realization though. Your abilities would even render his powers useless.

🩵Gojo’s identity has always tied into being the strongest, about being the one who no one can beat. Now you exist though. Now you are there and can eradicate his abilities. What does that make him then? Is he even himself if he isn’t the strongest? A part of Satoru is tempted to ask you to show him your Domain Expansion in the little hope that your powers won’t work on him. The other part of him is too frightened to do so as he doesn’t want his belief up until now to be destroyed. Who is he if he isn’t the one everyone has always thought him to be? The man is terrified, terrified as he realizes that the one person who could most likely kill him is you. That isn’t who you were supposed to be. You were supposed to be only his. Desperation and bitterness collide with each other as Gojo wishes that you would have just stayed that overlooked and weak sorcerer you used to be. You don’t need any Domain Expansion. You don’t even need to be a sorcerer. You only need him. Satoru will help you to realize this.

Mahito

🔷Mahito has always been carefree and goofy even whilst committing atrocities by toying around with humans. He has always gotten a good laugh out of Yuji’s moral lessons, about the boy’s anger whenever he transfigured and killed humans. It has always been fun and that is largely because so far Mahito has never been seriously beaten. Until he crosses paths with you. A freelancer of a sorcerer who isn’t really working for the Jujutsu society. It isn’t his first time that he has fought against a sorcerer and in hindsight his mistake was taunting you even whilst you weren’t willing to fight him. Of course he will never blame it on himself that he pushed you over your limit until you ran out of patience. Soon he is crying and screaming as he tries to scramble away from you yet without any success as he is in your Domain Expansion. Quivering pupils look at you as you calmly walk over, your fists stained in his blood as you look at him with chilling disregard. He isn’t even worth killing.

🔷Mahito is unable to live with the humiliation you give him on that day. Never before has he been on the weak side before, never before has he been on the side that suffers. That’s why he is unable to process it all. He’s deeply scarred after that encounter with you. Partially he is utterly and partially he yearns for revenge, traumatized as he can’t and won’t accept how you treated him on that day as if he was the disposable toy. Mahito initially becomes more obsessed with the thought of forcing you to cower on all four in front of him. He needs to correct his view on the world that has been shattered ever since you cursed his life. His body is still far too terrified to get close to you so the curse starts stalking you from a safe distance and he hates how his body always freezes in fear and panic if your head turns around, petrified that you might have sensed him. He hates what he has become of you, petty hatred all directed against you for this humiliation he had to endure because of you. Mahito wants to see you suffer even more than he did.

🔷Hatred soon gradually weakens with time though as Mahito starts getting interested in you. Initial plans to kill closed ones of you fail as he soon comes to realize that you are a true lone wolf. Your life is lonely and isolated from others as you like to keep to yourself. Why is that? Is there a deeper lying fear? Or does nobody like you? It is almost as if Mahito is actively trying to find something to pity you for all to boost his own sense of superiority and confidence. You really don’t seem to have anybody in your life and suddenly he is very adamant to keep it that way. Someone like you doesn’t deserve anyone and he even takes it a step further by interfering to the point where other sorcerers start distrusting you. He wants to see you lonely. He wants to find a way to break you because only then can he feel whole again. Don’t worry though. He’ll gladly keep you as soon as he has found out how to completely take away your abilities. He’s sure that you’ll be at your cutest when you’re at your weakest and most vulnerable point.

#yandere jujutsu kaisen #yandere jjk #yandere sukuna #yandere ryomen sukuna #yandere gojo #yandere gojo satoru #yandere mahito

[bring-backup-99]

Before It Gets Too Late

PAIRING: tech x fem reader

SUMMARY: You spend a fun and special day with Tech, starting with a flying lesson that takes an unexpected turn. There’re fluffy times but mostly sexy times. (I’m trying to support and comfort my Tech people during this dark period.)

WORDS COUNT: 1926

RATING + WARNINGS: 18+, very spicy, porn with minimal plot, PiV, rough sex, probably bad flight mechanics

NOTES: This is installment twenty-two of my reverse harem “Bad Choices” smutlet series on Ao3, but I think it’s also a nice stand-alone Tech story. Although it’s written in second person, my heroine has a very established relationship with the Batch.

Everything was going fine until a large flock of flying creatures shot out of the canopy in a wide column directly into the ship’s path. You were too close to simply fly around them, and every other usual option you could think of would leave hundreds of them dead and the ship with possible light damage.

So without a second thought, you killed the thrusters while sending the ship in a tight turn, the nose pointed at the column. A quick tap of the port thruster has you cleared of the animals, with what you hoped were minimal casualties, then you reinitialized the main thrusters and resumed your disrupted flight path.

For a full minute, there was silence to your left. Finally, “It appears that flying lessons were unnecessary.”

“That was never the question,” you hedged. “You asked if I would like you to give me lessons. You didn’t ask if I knew how to fly. I answered honestly.” And this was your third time out.

“But with a glaring omission,” Tech huffs at you.

“Don’t be angry at me. I was very curious as to how you would be as a flight instructor, and I would not have received the same response if you had known.” What you do know is that this is logic he won’t be able to argue with.

He hmphs at you again, but you can tell he’s not really upset.

“That was an interesting maneuver you performed.”

“A modified ‘Tech turn.’ Seemed like the best option for minimizing death and destruction.” You pause for a moment, then you look at him. “It can’t be, right? The ‘Tech turn’…” You trail off as you see the corners of his lips turn up to an actual smile.

“That is not what it is called.”

“I’m going to fuck your so hard as soon as we land.”

“I was contemplating something similar.”

He doesn’t take the controls from you, but you sit quietly for a while.

“I’m not great at mechanics. You could teach me that?” you offer.

“Specifically define ‘not great’,” he asks.

“I definitely couldn’t fully repair this ship, but I am unable to give you a rundown of which systems I am deficient in. That’s the best I can do.”

“That…is acceptable.”

*

Almost as soon as the ship touches down in the tree-lined clearing, you are on each other. He lets you push him back down in his pilot’s chair, straddling him while your lips devour his with kisses. You groan in frustration as you try to divest him of his various layers of clothing, but you’re too eager and your fingers can’t find all the buckles and straps.

Want. Need. They course through you. You need his skin against yours. Finally, he takes pity, gently stops your fumbling, and slowly removes all the items covering his torso, your desperate whimpering doing nothing to hurry him. Then he lifts off your shirt. Your bodies crash together again. He kisses along your neck, down to your breasts, cupping them, licking your nipples. You throw your head back and cry out, your hands stroking over his head and neck; then fingernails scrape down his back, feeling his taut muscles.

“Against the wall,” you groan. Moments later, you’re both naked, and your back is to the one bare metal plate in the cockpit. Tech drops to a knee in front of you, places your leg over his arm, and targets your clit in a focused and aggressive attack.

“Fuck! FUCK!” you scream as, mere minutes later, you come. And then he lifts you, burying himself deep inside you, pounding into you, your pussy still twitching in pleasure.

Every rough, hard thrust is accompanied by his grunts, and you loudly proclaim your satisfaction, your voice echoing through the ship. You want Tech to do this, need him to do this, to take his pleasure from your willing body. He captures your wrists, pinning them above your head with one hand, his other hand gripping your ass, fingers pressed into your flesh, pinching, bruising. He kisses you, mauling your lips, and when he breaks away, you sink your teeth into his shoulder.

He gasps, releasing your wrists, and takes a strong hold of your ass and thighs, angling you for deeper, feral thrusts. Your arms encircle his neck and shoulders. You want him like this, desperate for you, as if no one else could give this to him. An animalistic groan emanates from him as his cock ravages you until finally a full throated cry signals his climax and he holds himself deep inside of you, and you feel his hot cum pump into you.

Neither of you move, the only sounds your gasping breaths as you each try to take in enough air.

“Mmmm,” you finally manage. “That was excellent.” You smile, then lick a drop of sweat from his neck.

“Yes,” he says, a slight gleam in his eye, “Quite satisfactory.”

* You lie in a bunk together, your head on his shoulder, a hand idly stroking his chest.

“Why did you not disclose to me that you did not need flying lessons? Your skill level is clearly quite adequate.”

You suck in your breath. I wanted to spend time with you outside of my bedroom. I wanted to know who you are when we’re not fucking. I wanted to be on this ship with you when you could be focussed on me. I wanted… So many wants, as if you can’t be happy with what you have.

“It’s been a long time since I flew. I wasn’t sure that I didn’t need them…at least as a refresher.” You hesitate. “Are you angry at me?...slightly perturbed?

“I am not. And at least they were not a waste of time.” His fingers run up and down your arm.

“No,” you agree.

Tech looks down at you, watching your hand move along his skin. You have not asked him why he offered to teach you, which is for the best. Tech is worse at articulating his wants than you are.

*

You wake up alone in the bunk. It’s been awhile since the person you’d fallen asleep with wasn’t still beside you. The ship is dark, so it must be night. You get up, the floor cold under your feet, expecting to find Tech in the cockpit.

Instead, a drop-ladder is down from the midship overhead storage space.

“Tech?” You call up.

“Ah, you are awake,” you hear him say. “I was just coming down to collect you. Come up here.”

“Um, I’m naked?” You look around for your clothing and see nothing.

There’s a long pause. “It appears that I am nude as well…I do have blankets.”

You sigh and tentatively climb the ladder, then follow Tech’s voice to a maintenance hatch with another ladder that lets you out onto the ship’s fuselage. He takes your hand and leads you to where he’s laid out a large blanket over the cockpit. You feel awkward even though the warm night air is quite pleasant on your skin.

“What’s this all about?”

Tech helps you down onto the blanket, then points up. “The moons have just set, so we should have quite an excellent view of the Quadrillen meteor shower. I believe you expressed dissatisfaction with your ability to see this from the city.”

You look up and, after a few moments, you watch a meteor blaze across the sky. You hadn’t mentioned that you wanted to watch this to Tech. You and Crosshair had been discussing it. You hadn’t realized Tech was paying attention. You lie next to each other, mostly in silence, watching the light show.

“I must admit, I was skeptical at first, but this is quite a pleasant experience.”

“Skeptical? Why?”

“I have seen many natural phenomena during my travels in space. I did not think that the debris from a comet entering a planet's atmosphere would be particularly visually stimulating in comparison to what I have witnessed. But taken as a whole, this is quite an excellent experience.”

You laugh. “I suppose.” Smiling, you continue to watch as the little streaks fill the night, when suddenly three meteors scorch their way across the sky. You sit up excitedly and point. “That was amazing.” You look down at Tech. He has a slight smile on his face, then he pushes himself up and presses his lips to yours. His arms gather your body to him, one hand stroking in your hair, one at the small of your back. He takes your breath away with his kiss, drawing you down onto him.

This feels insane. Are you really going to fuck on top of the ship under the night sky? Turns out, yes, yes, you are.

You lie on him, enjoying the feel of his hot skin along your body. You kiss for a long time, until you can’t take it anymore, and whisper, “I need you. Please.” He helps you slide onto him, both of you gasping. You whimper; you’re a little sore but the sensation is too sweet. You lean forward, pressed chest to chest, as he pivots his hip to help you fuck him gently.

And when he carefully rolls you both so you can watch over his shoulder as the stars cascade out of the sky, you can’t help but think that this is all a little too ridiculous. He moves above you, long strokes that make your breath catch, and you cry out because sometimes he fits inside you perfectly.

You wrap your legs around him. “Yes, I like that. It feels so good. Just like that, Tech. Mmmm, just like that.”

Stars keep falling as he takes hold of your legs, angling you so his cock can thrust deeper. Your cries sound small as the trees surrounding you consume them.

You move together, one being working toward the same goal. Each stroke sends shivers through you until you feel your body full with warmth as a soft climax overtakes you, not nearly as intense as the one earlier, but somehow more satisfying.

He holds your hands, fingers intertwined, as he watches your face while the orgasm washes over you, drinking in those little noises you make that he so enjoys. He moves carefully as you finish, knowing you must be sore already, wanting you to still find pleasure as he nears his own climax.

And then you start whispering to him, “Come in me, Tech. I need to feel you inside me. I need it. I need you to come for me.” You move under him, insistent, demanding, so he has to surrender to you. He stiffens and gasps, his hot cum emptying in you. You wrap yourself around him as he collapses onto you, finally spent. You watch as the stars continue to fall through the blackness of the sky.

“We shouldn’t fall asleep up here.”

“Yes, that would be unwise.” He gingerly lifts himself off you. You roll and lie on his shoulder, watching the stars fall behind the trees. The air is cooling and you shiver. “Let us go back inside. You can continue watching from the cockpit, if you wish.”

“Tech.” He looks at you, while collecting the blankets. I wanted to spend more time with you, that’s why I lied.

“Thank you for tonight.” This was really special to me. I hope it was to you.

“Yes, this was very enjoyable.” He watches you as you climb down the hatch. I wish to do this again.

* But wait, there’s more: https://archiveofourown.org/series/3945640

#tech smut #tech x you #tech x reader #tbb tech #tech bad batch #tech #tech the bad batch #clone trooper tech #bad batch tech #tech x oc #the bad batch #tbb #bad batch #smutty fanfiction #the bad batch tech x reader #bad batch fanfic #bad batch fic #Let Tech fuck

[kimdokjas]

[major orv epilogue spoilers]

i was rereading the webtoon the other day and i had to Stop for a sec thinking about sys & od parallels. do u guys see my vision. okay listen hear me out

the way kdj was already living in a ruined world before the apocalypse even began. the way the words he typed all those years ago in a cold and lonely hospital room were "how to survive in a ruined world". how he was just a child clinging onto the one and only life raft he had found. and so he dreamed.

and then the scenarios begin and he looks at sys who feels unworthy of living for just trying to survive. and she's just a child and it's not her fault so he extends forgiveness to her as easy as breathing... but he's incapable of extending that same forgiveness to himself. so he takes up his sword in that subway and charges at od as if it was the only possible conclusion—and then he leaves. he stays behind and his eternity is his own form of atonement.

"your death has no place in the ending i wish for", he tells sys. and he means it. what he doesn't say is that he himself isn't part of that ending. because he never saw himself as part of the story at all. his salvation was always meant for others, not himself, and the most cruel and tragic kind of love is a hypocritical one.

and while kdj is hypocritical in his love with all his companions, the parallel between sys and kdj is especially poignant because they were both just kids who felt guilty for simply living. and they both felt responsible for dooming the world. sys realizing her 41st turn version would cause mass destruction, and kdj seeing od in that subway. they both felt the same despair and self-hatred so why wouldn't they be worthy of the same forgiveness? their bond is special because they understand each other at their core, but the tragedy is that kdj could see himself mirrored in sys and forgive his reflection but he could never in a million years forgive himself.

#[lying in a pool of blood] man. orv is soooo fun isn't it haha #i already inflicted this on the gc but i wanted to flesh it out more so now y'all have to deal with it too <3 #orv #orv spoilers #man i sure hope my webtoon-only moots have orv spoilers blacklisted right. RIGHT???? #kim dokja #shin yoosung #oldest dream #omniscient reader's viewpoint #gabby speaks #spoilers

[lunar-wandering]

Kaiju's and Blankets

!!!Season 4 Special Spoilers are in this fic!!!

Summary: MK gets sick, and gets stuck in kaiju form as a result. Everything else that spirals from that point is nobody else's fault but Wukong's. (Who is DEFINITELY not sick, thank you very much).

Word Count: 6.6k

Read on Ao3

“MK are you… sure you’re okay to run deliveries today?” 

“Of course, why wouldn’t I be?” 

“Well…” Pigsy trailed off, uncertain, looking up and down at MK’s rather… unkempt appearance today, as well as noting how almost hoarse the kid’s voice sounded, watching as MK’s smile despite these facts remained unchanged- even as his whole body jolted as he flickered with a golden glitch. “You’re doing the thing.” 

“What thing? I don’t know what you’re talking about.” MK glitched again, reaching behind himself just in time to grab his monkey tail as it appeared, holding it behind his back in an attempt to keep it out of view- an attempt that severely failed as Pigsy leveled him with concerned look, Mei even looking up from her phone game to raise her eyebrow at his actions. He sniffled, raising his free arm and rubbing his nose on the back of his sleeve, grabbing the takeout bags afterwards, partially disguising it as a more casual movement. “Aaaaanyways- I’ll just be out delivering these! Won’t even take that long! Be back soon!” 

Both Pigsy and Mei watched in concerned silence as MK walked backwards out of the restaurant, giving the both of them a rather sloppy salute before turning off and sprinting down the street, leaving cracks in the pavement behind him- albeit he didn’t seem to notice. Mei sighed, pocketing her phone. 

“He’s going to pass out, isn’t he.” She deadpanned, Pigsy nodding solemnly in agreement with her assessment. She stood up, stretching her arms above her head and rolling her shoulders, loosening up her muscles. 

“You’d better go after him, Mei.” 

“Already on it, Mr. Pig Dad Sir!” Mei bent down, getting into a ready to run position- 

Only to be thrown off balance as it was like the entire world shook, the building trembling, a sound similar to an explosion resounding as both her and Pigsy got tossed into the air from the force. Mei, thankfully, oriented herself to land on her feet- using a touch of dragon power to zoom into the kitchen and catch as many objects as she could before they could shatter on the ground. 

Pigsy wasn’t nearly so lucky, instead slamming down onto the floor, the wind getting knocked out of him. He remained on the floor, taking a moment to catch his breath, before groaning as he slowly pushed himself up, Mei quickly setting her objects on the counter and rushing over to give him a hand. 

“What was that?!” He wheezed, giving Mei a pat on the shoulder as thanks before making his way towards the door. Before he could get there however, Tang was suddenly there, appearing in a golden flash of light, staff in hand and looking frazzled and panicked, not even letting Pigsy or Mei get a word out before he spoke. 

“You guys are going to want to see this.” 

With no further explanation, he slammed his staff on the ground, both Pigsy and Mei shielding their eyes, closing them against the light as they felt the now-familiar sensation of teleportation. When they opened them again, they both blinked, taking in the absolute destruction. 

There were buildings that were literally flattened, pressed down against the ground- a few fires starting up in the remains of some of them. Thankfully, there had long since been a magic system put in place to automatically teleport people in danger out of the way in the case of possible natural disasters, and most of this space was an area that had been abandoned since Spider Queen’s attack the previous year, so there wasn’t that much concern about civilians, but. 

There was a giant crater in the ground that most certainly had not been there before, one that they were currently standing at the very edge of. 

And, at the middle of the crater, standing awkwardly at the exact center of all the destruction, with his tails swishing nervously… was MK. 

In kaiju form. 

“Well,” Mei put her hands on her hips, “That’s less than ideal.” 

“You’re telling me.” All three of them jumped as Sandy suddenly appeared out of nowhere behind them, staring at MK with obvious concern. “He told me last night that he was just coming down with a little cold.” 

“Yeah, I don’t think it’s very little anymore.” Pigsy sighed in exasperation, stepping forwards, about to jump down into the crater and approach MK, planning on lecturing him about the importance of not hiding illnesses again- 

“Ah- wait!” Tang grabbed the back of Pigsy’s clothes, pulling him back towards him. 

Just in time it seemed, as MK suddenly twitched, all three of his tails coming to a complete standstill as he inhaled, turning to the side to face more towards the uninhabited part of town-

Another sound like an explosion went off, and Tang just barely managed to get a shield up in time to protect them from the resulting shockwave as MK’s entire kaiju body jerked forwards.  The ground shook, and all of them stumbled, barely remaining standing, a cloud of debris getting kicked up as more houses were flattened. 

It was only when the dust finally settled that Mei fully processed what had just happened. 

“Was that a sneeze?” She asked, as the shield slowly flickered away. “He did all this with just a sneeze???” 

“It… appears so.” Tang said. 

Mei wasn’t entirely sure if that was cool, or mildly scary. 

After a moment of deliberation, she settled on it being concerning. Something like that couldn’t be good for MK’s health, obviously. (Even if his power level being well over what must be 9,000 was awesome as all hell). 

“Yeah… I hate to say it, but I think we’re going to need Monkey King’s help on this one.” Pigsy crossed his arms, thinking. “Now, the only question is… how do we get a kaiju to Flower Fruit Mountain?” 

The words “Flower Fruit Mountain” seemed to have somehow managed to catch MK’s attention, as he turned towards them, seemingly only just now noticing they were there, as his tails and fur stood up on end in what could only be best interpreted as shock at their presence. In mere seconds, he had crossed over to stand in front of them, kneeling down on the ground to be closer to eye level with them- the ground slightly shaking with the motion. 

He looked… apologetic, a tiny noise akin to a whine escaping from him- Pigsy wasn’t even sure if he could speak like this- based on Macaque, he probably should be able to, but then again, Pigsy had never seen a sick Macaque kaiju (and, quite frankly, never wanted to). Still though, he gave his best disappointed stare up at him, MK shrinking back a little. 

“Yeah yeah, I know all your excuses, kid. Right now, let's just focus on getting you out of kaiju form- don’t think you’ve escaped the lecture though.” He hastily added on the end upon seeing MK start to look slightly hopeful. MK, in response, slumped a little, his tails and ears drooping. “Do not give me the puppy dog eyes, kid. We’ve got, for lack of a better word, bigger problems right now.” 

MK let out a small rumbling chuckle- and then instantly turned to the side to cough into his arm, the ground shaking again, but Pigsy focused less on his sudden loss of balance and instead on how… painful it sounded. Maybe that’s why MK wasn’t talking, he had sounded quite hoarse earlier, maybe it hurt more to speak now. 

Either way… 

“We need to get you to Flower Fruit Mountain.” Tang finished Pigsy’s thought before he could even speak it. “Albeit… I’m not entirely sure how. Sandy’s boat is way too small, and I’m not sure that I can teleport you when you’re like… this.” 

MK tilted his head to the side, seemingly in contemplation. And then, a very familiar smirk appeared on his kaiju face. 

Pigsy knew what that smirk meant. 

It meant trouble. 

“Kid, I swear-” Pigsy didn’t get the chance to finish that sentence, as, without any form of warning, MK was reaching down, scooping all four of them up into one hand. 

Pigsy and Tang’s matching screams were nearly drowned out by the sound of Mei’s loud enthusiastic cheering. 

MK slowly and carefully stood up, holding his hand close to his chest to help keep his hand stable as he slowly started walking his way out of the city, keeping a close eye on where he put his feet. Pigsy, subtly, used the opportunity to check the kid for fever- albeit, like this, with MK in this form, he couldn’t really tell. MK felt a little warm, but he had no idea what the normal for a kaiju even was. 

It was only when they reached the beach- and MK just kept going, stepping into the ocean, that Pigsy realized what MK was planning to do. 

“MK, this really isn’t the best idea, you’re just going to-” 

“Make myself more sick?” 

All four of them startled as MK’s voice came out in basically a whisper from behind them. 

Turning around, they could barely make out the form of MK, in monkey form, hovering inside of his kaiju, where the heart would reside. His position perfectly mirrored his kaiju’s completely, his legs moving in tandem with it- almost like he was controlling a mech. He was looking down, and it took Pigsy a moment to realize that it was because his kaiju was looking down at them- MK must only be able to see through his kaiju’s eyes, then. 

“I don’t think what happens in this form can really transfer to my physical state.” MK continued, voice somehow, despite being in a hoarse whisper, still sounding far more energetic than a sick person should sound. “I can’t even feel the water around my feet!” 

Pigsy huffed. 

“If this comes back to bite you, do not come complaining to me.” He mumbled. 

The rest of the trip through the ocean was slightly slow, but mostly peaceful. (There was one point, where MK had sneezed again, accidentally dropping them in the process as he turned away from them, but thankfully, Mei had been fast enough to snatch them up in her dragon form before they could hit the water. MK had, softly, apologized as they were settled back into his hand, to which Mei threatened to steal all his copies of the Monkey Mech game if he dropped them again. MK had whined about it for the following 15 minutes). 

When they reached Flower Fruit Mountain, MK stood still on the beach for a moment too long, the others turning back to him in concern. 

“...I swear, you better not be about to sneeze again.” Mei threatened. There was a moment where MK didn’t respond- 

And then they were all clinging to his hand as MK gave a full body shake, kicking both his legs, sending water droplets flying everywhere to the beach below. 

It was only when they were steady again that Mei let out a strangled laugh. 

“You’re like a dog!” 

MK pointedly avoided looking at them. 

“...I tried not to.” He mumbled, “Instinct took over…” 

Mei cackled at him, MK finally looking back down at them with a pout. Pigsy rolled his eyes. 

It took far faster than usual to climb the mountain up to the waterfall that led to Wukong’s recently rebuilt house, mainly due to MK not needing to take nearly as many steps. He gently lowered his hand to the ground, allowing the others to step off, before reaching out a finger, placing it in the water to split it in two, allowing a path of access through it. 

It was only when all four of them had crossed through it that MK let out a distressed sound, causing them to turn back around to face him. 

There was a beat, before they realized the issue. 

“Oh.” Tang said, “You can’t fit.” 

There was a slightly louder distressed noise. Sandy stepped back to the other side of the waterfall, patting MK on the side of the leg. 

“Don’t worry MK, I’m sure Mr. King will have something that will, at the least, make you a little smaller!! I’ll just stay out here with you while the others go in, if that’s okay?” 

MK glanced back at Pigsy. 

“We won’t be long, kid.” He affirmed, and MK gave him a nod, before slowly pulling his hand back, the flow of the water once more slamming down and obscuring him and Sandy from view. Pigsy turned back to Mei and Tang. “Alright- sooner we get Monkey King out here, the better.” 

Sun Wukong was not sitting out anywhere in his cave, unlike previous times that they had shown up unexpectedly. They would normally stumble upon him lounging on a sunlit rock or a shaded tree branch, usually either eating or reading something or other. Sometimes Pigsy wondered if he ever got up to much else (outside of training MK, that is). 

Mei, the fastest of the three of them, zoomed right up the steps to Wukong’s house to knock. 

“Mr.King!! We need your help!!” She called- 

There was a loud crash from inside the house, and all three of them winced. A few seconds later, the door opened, Wukong panting like he had run to them, looking slightly panicked. 

“What’s- what’s going on- where’s the kid?”  He looked around frantically. 

“He’s sick-” Mei started, having to stop mid-sentence to avoid biting her tongue as Wukong grabbed her shoulders and started shaking her. 

“Sick? Sick like- dying sick? Does he need a peach??? I can go steal a peach for him-” Wukong let go of Mei, the dragon girl stumbling back to be out of his reach as he turned to try and move off his front porch, likely with the plan of stealing another immortal peach in mind. Tang and Pigsy stepped in his way before he could. 

“The kid’s not dying, Monkey King.” Pigsy reached out to try and calm the monkey down, Wukong side-stepping away from his touch, but still pausing. “He’s just got a cold.” 

“...Oh. Well, y’know, even mortal colds can be deadly-” 

“It won’t be.” 

“...Okay… Then what do you need my help for?” Wukong tilted his head to the side, staring at them in confusion as he leaned back against the wall of his house, “I’m not exactly the best when it comes to medicine nowadays- it used to be so much simpler when you could just use a flower and a spell.” 

Tang mumbled something about having to teach the Monkey King about the advancements of modern medicine, and Pigsy sighed. 

“The kid’s gone all super-kaiju on us.” He said, “He’s sitting outside the cave right now, we were hoping that… at the least, if you can’t turn him back to normal, you could at least make him… smaller?” 

“Oh! Yeah, that’s easy.” Wukong smirked as he pushed off the wall, only to wince as it cracked behind him. “...Oops. Uh, I’ll fix that later, c’mon, let’s go see the kid.” 

Pigsy and Tang instantly turned to start heading back towards the waterfall entrance, Wukong trailing behind them, Mei taking a split second to glance between the Monkey King and the crack in the wall with sudden suspicion before catching up to them, sliding to walk in time beside Wukong. 

“Soooo, Mr. King. How’re you doing today?” She asked, leaning towards him slightly, raising an eyebrow as he leaned away, avoiding eye contact with her. 

“I’m fine.” Wukong sped up a little, tail swishing as he moved around to be in front of Pigsy and Tang just in time as they arrived back at the waterfall. Reaching out, he activated the magic surrounding it, parting the waters before turning back towards them with an over-dramatic smirk, giving them a half-sarcastic little bow. “After you, guys!” 

Pigsy and Tang simply rolled their eyes, walking forwards, but Mei made the point of making eye contact with the Monkey King as she walked past him, following it up with an ‘I’m watching you’ motion that made Wukong’s expression shift to one of nervousness, before he covered it up with a small laugh, stepping through the waterfall himself. 

MK visibly brightened up when he saw them emerge from the waterfall, shifting to lean down towards them. 

“Told you we wouldn’t be long, kid.” Pigsy said, lightly patting the side of MK’s face that he could reach. “...Where’s Sandy?” 

“Right here!” Sandy popped up from MK’s shoulder, sliding down MK’s arm to be on the ground with the others. “MK was just letting me braid his hair while we waited.” 

Sure enough, there were a few tiny braids throughout Kaiju MK’s hair- in all honesty, Pigsy was impressed that Sandy had managed to get so many of them done in such a short period of time. 

“Right.” Wukong said, shaking out his hands and summoning his cloud, floating up to be able to touch the center of the kaiju’s forehead. “I… can’t say if I can change you back to normal, per say, but I’m pretty sure I can at the least get you small enough to be able to fit inside the mountain.” 

There was a brief pause, and then Wukong’s eyes lit up gold, tendrils of magic swirling around the kaiju. There were a few small moments where the size of the kaiju fluctuated, getting smaller and then bigger again, followed by a bright flash of light that had the four on the ground shielding their eyes. 

When they opened their eyes again, MK was much smaller than he was before. Still a giant kaiju, yes, but he’d be able to fit through the entrance if he crawled, and should be able to stand within the cave itself no problem. 

“Well, at least that’s one problem solved…” Pigsy trailed off into a mumble, “We’re definitely going to need to find a bigger soup bowl somewhere though…” 

“...Why aren’t they moving?” Mei questioned, and Pigsy looked back up to find that MK and Wukong seemed to have entered… some kind of staring contest, both of their tails swishing. 

A full minute passed, the four on the ground waiting in complete silence, trying to figure out what was going on. 

…And then MK raised a hand, snatched Wukong off his cloud, and slammed his palm onto the ground, sending up a small splash of water that the others only just managed to avoid as he pinned Wukong to the ground in the shallow pond. 

“Kid!!! What are you doing?!?!” Tang yelled, as Wukong let out a wheezing breath- 

And immediately broke into a loud coughing fit, the others watching as Wukong’s whole form seemed to flicker before restabilizing. Mei let out a loud gasp, pointing at him. 

“Ohhhh- I knew there was something up with you!” She said, “You’re sick too!!” 

“I am not!” Wukong managed to hiss out, before starting to struggle, using his free hand to smack at MK’s fingers, his one free leg kicking uselessly in the air. “Let me go!!” 

MK didn’t move, and although his expression didn’t visibly change, everyone could just feel the tangible disappointment coming off of him. 

It didn’t take very long for Wukong to give in, suddenly going limp in MK’s hold. 

“Fine, kid. You win.” He let out an overdramatic world weary sigh, flickering again, only this time, once the flickering died down… well, to say it politely, he looked like an absolute mess. His fur, albeit now soaked with water, looked completely frazzled, like he hadn’t brushed it before getting out of bed that morning, there were dark circles under his eyes, and his face was slightly flushed. Pigsy would, honestly, be willing to say that he looked worse-off than MK did. 

MK, in response to his mentor letting down his glamours, let out a somewhat-pleased sound, removing his hand, freeing Wukong. Despite this, Wukong continued to lay there, staring up at the sky- his view of the clouds unfortunately blocked as Mei leaned over him, blocking his vision. 

“Jeez, you look awful.” She said, reaching down to press the back of her hand against Wukong’s forehead. 

“Thanks for the compliment.” He said, rolling his eyes. “I’m not sick though. Just didn’t sleep too well, that’s all!” 

“Mhm, yeah, tell that to your fever.” Mei huffed, reaching down to grab his arm, forcibly lifting him back up to his feet. Wukong, on instinct, shook, the water in his fur flying everywhere. “Hey!! You’re getting me wet!! Man, MK really did take after you a lot…” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“Oh, nothing!” Mei gave him her best innocent smile, dragging him over in the direction of the others- MK having used his hand to reopen the waterfall and let the others through again. “C’mon, let’s get inside before Pigsy goes full chaos mom mode on you.” 

“Goes full what-” 

Twenty minutes later found Wukong pouting, sitting cross-legged on top of MK’s head, MK himself having laid down on his stomach, curling up slightly like a giant cat. Wukong had been practically forced to change into a pair of peach-themed pajamas Pigsy had happened to find after rummaging through the Monkey King’s closets- and had a blanket draped over his shoulders as well (he had just taken a dip in the water after all- they were better safe than sorry). 

“I’m not sick.” He mumbled petulantly, MK reaching up and poking Wukong’s head as gently as he could with one finger in response, sending him slightly off balance to the side before he re-stabilized himself, grumbling incoherently. 

“Hmm, we’ll have to find some kind of blanket for the kid eventually…” Pigsy said, rubbing his chin as he thought. “Albeit, unlike Monkey King, he doesn’t seem to have a fever yet, so we can probably hold off on that for a little longer…” 

“Don’t have a fever! Cause I’m not sick!” Wukong called down from his position, everyone dutifully ignoring him. 

“I would like to find some way to get some form of soup fed to MK though.” Pigsy finished, “Which means we’re… definitely going to need some kind of large bowl… albeit I can’t think of where we’d find something like that.” 

“Oh! Oh! I know!!” Wukong waved his hands to get their attention, before pointing up. “The guys up there have tons of giant bowls you could take and use!!” 

“...Isn’t that stealing?” Sandy asked, Wukong shaking his head. 

“Naahhhh, they won’t even notice if one bowl’s gone. I can take you all you guys up there right now!!” 

“Ah- wait!” Tang’s shout only barely managed to stop Wukong before he could snap his fingers. “You’re sick, you can’t be transporting a large group of people- nevermind a giant bowl.” 

“Not sick.” Wukong said, sniffling, but still lowering his hand. 

“But who could transport a giant bowl for us, as well as the ingredients?” Pigsy hummed, the group falling into silence as they thought it over. 

“...What about Macaque? He’s got that shadow-portaling thingy.” Mei suggested- Wukong immediately bursting out into hoarse laughter, mixed with a few coughs. “What’s so funny?” 

“Please, like Macaque would ever agree to that.” Wukong said. 

“Well, it’s not like we have much of a choice…” Tang muttered, before raising his voice so that the others could hear. “Alright, but who’s going to stay behind with these two?” 

There was silence for a beat, and then Wukong scoffed. 

“We don’t need a babysitter.” He said, “I can keep an eye on the kid just fine- hEY!” 

He was cut off as MK reached up, grabbing hold of Wukong’s tail, dangling his mentor upside down, the Monkey King scrambling to grab the blanket that had been wrapped around him and hold it close to his chest to prevent it from falling to the ground. 

“I’ll keep an eye on Monkey King.” MK’s hoarse voice whispered, slowly swinging his mentor back and forth a few times, before setting him on the ground, lightly putting his hand overtop of him again when it seemed like Wukong was going to protest- Wukong instead accepting his fate, laying on the ground with a resigned expression. 

“Well, with that settled… I guess we’re off to see Macaque!” Mei said, turning to stand beside Tang as he got ready to teleport them to Macaque’s dojo. 

“He’s going to say no!” Wukong called, Pigsy waving him off. 

“We’ll just see about that.” 

-

“No. Absolutely not.” Macaque said, immediately, leaning up against his doorframe, raising one finger to silence them before any of them could even speak a word. “Wukong and the kid aren’t here. Which means that whatever this is about- because there must be something going on, this many of you wouldn’t be on my doorstep otherwise, this must be about them, and I want nothing to do with it.” 

“How do you know there’s not some kind of world ending threat going on?” Mei asked, slowly pulling out her sword behind her back, where Macaque couldn’t see. 

“Please, if there was a world ending threat, trust me, I would know.” Macaque huffed, crossing his arms. “Don’t think I didn’t notice the giant kaiju incident this morning, I’m not blind. I want nothing to do with it.” 

“Really now? And nothing will change your mind?” Mei’s smirk slowly grew slightly more dangerous, Pigsy, Tang, and Sandy stepping slightly to the side, knowing full well to not get in her way. 

“Nope. No way, no how.” 

Within the next split second, there was a sword embedded in the doorframe, just bare inches away from Macaque’s face. Macaque let out a slightly fearful breath, a few stray pieces of hair that the sword had managed to snag slowly falling to the ground. 

“That.” Mei hissed, “Is your only warning.” 

Macaque, for his part, recovered rather quickly. 

“...Nice aim, kid.” He muttered, before sighing. “Fiiinneee, I’ll help you out, but just this once- and you better pay me back for it. What do you need me to do?” 

-

Wukong stared up at the ceiling of the mountain. 

It had been twenty minutes since the others had teleported away, and they still weren’t back yet. Or, well, he thought it had been twenty minutes. He didn’t exactly have a clock on him. It had felt like it had been an hour, but he wasn’t really the best at keeping track of time, so he was going to guess that it had actually only been twenty minutes. 

…Twenty minutes were far too long though. 

Groaning, Wukong pushed himself up into a sitting position, MK opening up one eye to stare at him. Dang it, he’d been kinda hoping that the kid had fallen asleep since he had closed his eyes about… ten minutes ago? Yeah, ten minutes ago was probably a good guess. 

“I’m bored.” Wukong’s voice trailed off into something that borderlined a whine. Quickly jumping to stand up, ignoring the way it made his head spin a little, Wukong turned to the kid. “Do you want to watch a movie? I can go get my laptop!” 

MK let out a small rumble, opening his other eye to focus fully on Wukong. 

“The screen would be too small for me.” Was his response, “I wouldn’t be able to see it.”

“Mmm, I guess you’re right…” Wukong trailed off, tapping his chin in thought. “Oh! We could set up a projector! Get a giant sheet, set up like a movie theatre screen! I’m pretty sure I have a projector around here somewhere…” 

“What about the giant sheet, though?” MK asked, and Wukong paused, thinking. 

And then a brilliant idea struck him. 

“I can just steal some blankets from Demon Bull King’s house!” He said, moving from standing to sitting up, grabbing the blanket that was resting on his shoulders, tying the ends of it together to turn it into a blanket-cape. “Demon Bull King’s blankets are huge, if I get enough of them, we can probably use one or two to cover you as well!” 

“Ah- but you’re sick-” 

“Psh, I’m fine!” Wukong waved him off- and MK, unfortunately, was not fast enough to catch him, Wukong having summoned his cloud and zoomed out of the cave before the kid could even blink. 

It was only when Wukong was halfway across the ocean that the thought struck his ever so slightly hazed mind that maybe leaving MK alone by himself might not be a very wise decision, but, well, he was already almost at his destination, so there was really no point in turning back now. 

By the time he was climbing in through the Demon Bull Family’s kitchen window, carefully making sure that his blanke- his cape didn’t get caught, landing silently on the floor, he was right back around to considering this to be the most genius thing he had ever done. 

“Right.” Wukong whispered to himself, clapping his hands together. “Now, if I were DBK, where would I put the blankets?” 

Probably the hallway closet, most likely, which meant getting past all the traps that Demon Bull King likely had installed. Wukong sighed, about to open the hallway door- 

Only to pause, noticing the coffee-maker sitting on the counter. 

Now, Wukong wasn’t much of a coffee drinker, it was a little bit too bitter for him. But he remembered hearing that coffee-makers could also make hot chocolate… surely this one could too? He was kinda in the mood for a hot drink… and hot chocolate sounded really good right now… 

Blanket retrieval mission temporarily on pause, Wukong started digging through the small box of insertable coffee’s that was sitting beside the coffee-maker, hoping to find one for hot-chocolate. And, sure enough, he managed to find one. Giggling slightly to himself, he inserted it into the machine, pressing the on button- 

He was not expecting how loud it was. 

“Ah, no- shh shh shhhhhhh!!” Wukong waved his hands, panicking. If Demon Bull King heard this and found him now, he’d never be able to get those blankets. Quickly, he started pressing buttons, but none of them would seem to turn the damn machine off. 

Making a split second decision, Wukong reeled his arm back- and punched it. 

He paused afterwards, slowly shaking his hand clean of the bits of debris as he stared at the destroyed coffee-machine. 

…Ah. That probably hadn’t been his best decision. 

Well, at least it was silent now. Carefully, he swept the broken pieces together, opening a cupboard with his foot and depositing it in there. Surely no-one would notice that. Or, well, at the very least, it wouldn’t be noticed until he was far away from here. Nooo consequences for the Great Sage, Equal To Heaven tonight!

Wiping his hands clean of the whole mess, Wukong turned, opening the door to the hallway, deciding to return his focus to his original mission; stealing some of Demon Bull King’s blankets. 

After a minute or so of staring, analyzing the many traps lining the walls, he took a deep breath and went for it. 

Dodging the traps largely went without issue, Demon Bull King seriously needed to update his home security. (Albeit, there had been a point where a couple of arrows had flown a little too close for comfort when Wukong had stumbled, a wave of dizziness hitting him, likely from the fever- the fever that he definitely didn’t have, yep, for sure, he was as healthy as a horse, definitely). 

He had also been right, Demon Bull King did, in fact, store his blankets in the hallway closet. He did have a bit of a struggle getting them out of the closet- one of them falling over top of him and causing him to have to take a moment to free himself from it’s horrible confines, but he managed to get about three, giant blankets. 

Three should be enough, right? One for the projector, and two for the kid. That worked. 

Slowly making his way back to the kitchen, dragging the blankets behind him, Wukong froze mid-step in the hallway. 

And then turned to the side and sneezed- completely obliterating the wall that had stood beside him. 

He blinked, as the dust cleared- revealing Demon Bull King, Princess Iron Fan, and Red Son sitting on the other side, in their living room, staring at him in shock. 

“...Oh. Hi?” Wukong lifted his free hand to give them a nervous little wave. 

Demon Bull King’s bellowing yell of “Sun Wukong!” was all the warning the Monkey King needed to take off running at full speed, the entire Demon Bull Family hot on his heels. 

Fifteen minutes later, MK, who had taken to using his hand to draw shapes into the ground of the cave, jumped- before hissing as a bright swirling fire appeared in front of him. 

“Relax, Noodle Boy, it’s just me.” Red Son said, the fire clearing away to reveal him standing there, carrying Sun Wukong over his shoulder- who was still holding on to the three blankets he had stolen. “I’m just here to deliver your idiotic mentor back to you.” 

“Hey! I take offense to that!” Wukong struggled, getting unceremoniously dumped on the ground for his efforts. MK, instantly, grabbed him, lifting him up and holding him in his hand, to make sure he wouldn’t run away again. 

“That taken care of-” Red Son clapped his hands, “I’ll be taking my leave-” 

Red Son was cut off, as suddenly one of MK’s tails reached out, scooping him up off the ground. 

“What- Oh come on Noodle Boy, I can’t stay here!I have stuff to do!” MK gave no response to that other than a small rumble, not making any move to put the fire demon down. Red Son huffed, adjusting slightly to make himself more comfortable, grumbling, “I hope the Dragon Girl is having a better day than I am…” 

-

Mei panted, bent over, one hand against the giant bowl, the other against her knee, as she tried to catch her breath. The others were in similar conditions, Tang outright laying down on the floor of Macaque’s dojo like he was dead- the only sign of life from him being the way his chest quickly rose and fell with desperate breaths. 

“That-” Mei inhaled, “That was-” 

“Awful?” Macaque suggested, from his position of being down on his hands and knees on the floor. Mei shook her head. 

“No, amazing!” She said, tilting her head back with a laugh that, in her state, made her seem near-insane. “We absolutely need to do that again!” 

“Let’s put ‘doing that again’ to the side for now.” Sandy said, patting the side of the bowl. “We have the bowl now, but we still need to get the ingredients.” 

“Oh, no problem.” Macaque said, snapping his fingers, various shadow portals appearing above the bowl, dumping various vegetables down into it. Pigsy stood up, grabbing hold of the edge of the bowl, leaning down over it to pick up a carrot and inspect it. 

“...Where did you get these?” He asked. Macaque shifted nervously. 

“Ah… you know, here and there.” He shifted his hands side to side, before letting out a sigh. “...From some stores nearby.” 

“Did you pay for it?” 

“Why would I need to do that?” 

There was a moment of silence, before Pigsy groaned. 

“Y’know what, I don’t have the energy to deal with a ‘stealing is wrong’ discussion. Let’s just get all this back to the mountain.” Pigsy didn’t need to say any more, as a dark shadow spread out under each of them, and within the next heartbeat, they were back on Flower Fruit Mountain. 

…They all paused, taking in the scene in front of them. Somehow, there was now a giant white sheet of fabric hung up on one of the walls, a small projector on a table projecting one of the Monkey King movies onto it. There were also two blankets over top of MK’s kaiju body, and Wukong was curled up slightly by MK’s hand, as well as- 

Mei blinked in disbelief. 

“Red Son? What are you doing here?” 

Red Son turned to face them, looking slightly irritated. 

“I’m being held hostage.” Was his response. Not even a second later, Wukong popped up from his curled up position to turn and stare at them with a bright smile- despite his expression however, he somehow looked more frazzled and feverish than he had before. 

“Oh, you guys are back!! You should join us- Red Boy over here makes amazing popcorn.” Wukong said, Red Son reaching over to smack him on the shoulder. 

“...Yeah, okay.” Pigsy decided that you know what, today had already been so weird, he might as well just take this in stride. “We have to make the soup first, though.” 

Getting things set up for soup-making shockingly didn’t take as long as any of them thought it would- Red Son’s presence ended up being particularly helpful, making it easier to get a fire started to cook the soup with. It didn’t take long at all for the soup to be ready, everyone getting their own small bowls before MK sat up and took his much larger one, the entire group sitting in a small semi-circle beside him. 

Or, well, almost the entire group. 

“C’mon Macaque, aren’t you going to join us?” Mei asked, looking over her shoulder at where the aforementioned monkey was standing a rather good distance away. 

“No thanks.” 

“Why not?” 

“Cause I know what Wukong will do.” 

“What will he do?” Mei tilted her head to the side in confusion, Wukong also turning around now that his name had been mentioned, albeit with a devilish smirk on his face. 

“Yeah, Macaque, what will I do?” He asked. Macaque glared at him. 

“He’s going to lick me.” He said, “He’s going to wait, until I’m distracted, and then he’s going to lick me, and then I’m going to get sick, and I don’t want to get sick. I mean- look at what he did to the kid! I am not dealing with that!” 

Everyone shared a brief glance up at MK, who just stared back down at them blankly. Admittedly, up until this point, it hadn’t occurred to anyone that Wukong having worse symptoms- or, more likely, being further along in the stages of the illness, likely meant that he had been the one to give it to MK in the first place. Almost simultaneously, they all turned to Wukong to give him a light glare. Wukong held his hands up in self defence. 

“Hey- it wasn’t me- I’m not even sick!” 

No-one even bothered to argue with him, instead rolling their eyes. Mei, for her part, set her soup bowl down on the ground, and then, despite Macaque’s protests, zoomed over, picked him up, and brought him over to sit with the rest of the group- Pigsy setting a bowl of soup down into his lap. 

For a blessed twenty minutes, there was silence, the group watching the movie in relative peace. 

And then there was an ear-splitting shriek. 

They turned, and, sure enough- Wukong had used Macaque’s complete entrancement with the movie to grab hold of his wrist and lick his hand. 

“I told you!!! I told you this would happen!” Macaque yelled, pulling his hand away from Wukong, shaking it almost like it was on fire. “Gross-” 

“Oh, c’mon you big baby, it’s not that bad.” Wukong rolled his eyes, sniffling a little and rubbing his nose on his sleeve. Macaque glared at him with visible disgust, before groaning, wiping his hand on his pants. 

“If random shadow portals start showing up everywhere within the next few days, know that it will be your fault.” 

#Monkie Kid #LMK S4 Special Spoilers #LMK Spoilers #Monkie Kid Spoilers #fanfic #my writing

[torntoblivion]

shenhe taking her stress out on you

cws: nsfw (mdni), gn! reader, strap on use, penetration, belly bulge, size kink, choking, reader is smaller than shenhe, edging (?)

shenhe is usually a calm and stoic woman but it sure does get on her nerves when someone pushes her limits. in order to not get herself in trouble or cause no destruction, you offered shenhe to take her frusturations out on you.

it was the best idea you've ever had.

right now, shenhe has you nearly folded in half, pressing your thighs to your chest with only her raw strength, making this whole thing even more arousing. the strap on sinfully connected to her body is nothing special but the way she uses it is incredible.

shenhe isn't cruel though, she's always got an eye on you and making sure you're alright. her soft touches effectively soothing your trembling body, completely contrasting the rough thrusts.

cold hands grip your cheeks, fingers dancing on your cheekbones as her hips slow down a little, opting to thrust slowly but as deeply as she can. you let a few choked moans, feeling shenhe literally in your guts.

you look down to the bulge in your stomach, shenhe's gaze follow yours below and before you know it, she's going fast again. you want to scream shenhe's name over and over but the only sounds you could let out were hoarse moans.

her strap pistons even rougher into your hole, your sex is aching for release but shenhe hasn't let you cum yet, wanting to savor this moment for a little more.

shenhe's right hand slides down to your throat, not choking but slightly cutting off the air, her hand almost engulfs your throat as you gasp a little.

she leans down slightly, her breasts pressing onto your chest, nipples rubbing against your own. her tall body is covering every inch of your body, the size and strength difference is just perfect.

with the additional stimulation on your nipples combined with shenhe's strap brings you dangerously close to your high. you tap her shoulder, letting her know that you're close.

"let go for me."

her sensual whisper and her left hand finds your warm sex, rubbing it in the same rhythm as her thrusts and her groans push your over the edge. you violently spasm underneath her, making a mess all over the bed and yourself.

shenhe waits for you to calm down a little after helping you ride out your orgasm, carressing your hair as he does then carefully pulls out, you wince at the empty feeling.

you try to sit up as she removes the strap on but she's quick to gently push you back.

"let me get you off-"

she shakes her head while reaching for the glass of water on the endtable beside the bed.

"i would like to rest with you, i'm alright."

you smile as she places the glass to your lips, making you drink the whole thing. you really are lucky to have shenhe as your girlfriend, she might act cold and distant but on the inside, she's a big sweetheart.

#genshin impact #genshin impact hc #genshin impact hcs #genshin impact imagine #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x y/n #genshin impact x you #genshin impact fanfics #genshin impact fanfiction #genshin impact fanfictions #genshin impact fanfic #genshin impact headcanon #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact smut #shenhe #shenhe x reader #shenhe x you #shenhe x y/n #shenhe smut

[squirrelsqwirow]

HC: lovesick!muzan x fem!demonreader

a/n: I love the idea of a powerful, intimidating man being head-over-heels for his wife cw: mentions of death, cannon setting, slight yandere, suggestive themes, odd use of blood cause demons, ooc a bit????

lovesick!muzan who rules as the demon king, feared by both demons and humans alike, a murderer of thousands, a egocentric psychopath who believes himself to be a god walking earth, a heartless, cold man who cares not for others and only for his self-gain

lovesick!muzan who would only kneel for his beautiful wife - the demon queen

lovesick!muzan who ensures that your existence is kept a lethal rumour - lower demons tremble when they utter the title 'demon queen' for they fear muzan will hear them - and he does

lovesick!muzan who's eyes sharpen when one of his pathetic creations dares speak of you, and is by their side within a blink, hand dug deep into their stomach, fingers wrapped around the spine and with one harsh pull, they are left motionless as the sun peaks over the buildings

lovesick!muzan who confirms your existence with his upper moons by having you join his side at his last meeting over one-hundred years ago - they hadn't seen you since

within the stomach of the infinity castle, atop a risen platform you lay comfortably with your head on your husbands lap. muzan looked down with disgust at his supposed upper moons - the most powerful products of his unwavering hatred, yet in that moment all he felt with disappointment. his hand was gentle as it ran across your jewelled hair, careful to not catch on the golden accessories. "they're pathetic," you had said. muzan hummed as you continued: "loyal but incompetent." "I give them power and a simple request in return," he stroked your cheek and your eyes closed. "Yet they have nothing to show for it." muzan's voice sharpened and he narrowed his eyes as all but one upper moon looked displeased. "imperfection isn't acceptable."

lovesick!muzan who allows you and only you to keep him company in his lab - he prefers to work in silence, but if you take an interest in his love for chemistry he will answer every question with a smile so small only you can see it

lovesick!muzan who believes his wife to be the most intelligent individual he's ever met - calm, cunning, vicious, elegant with a strong desire for destruction and power - he'd never think so highly of anyone else

lovesick!muzan who stares at his wife constantly - any lesser being would assume him to be glaring, but you've known him long enough to see the love in his stare - he doesn't like being caught staring, and most times isn't, but he lets his guard down around you

lovesick!muzan who will give you his blood without hesitation, for you are the demon queen and therefore deserving of all this power

muzan swiftly sliced the pad of his index finger with the sharp nail of his thumb. he delicately took your face in his hands and your mouth fell open, tongue resting against your lower, red lip. he smiled and slowly placed his index on the base of your tongue and dragged it to the tip - silk-like red trailing his finger. it was like iron in your mouth, a metallic tang as you swallowed. muzan kissed you next, soft and chaste with his lips flush against your own. as he pulled away, he could feel the thickness of your red lipstick against his lips, and his cunning suspicion was confirmed as you smiled largely.

lovesick!muzan who creates a unique deep red lipstick for only you, specially crafted in his lab and injected with his blood - it was vivid against your complexation, often attracting the attention of many human women who would approach you asking for the store you purchased it from

lovesick!muzan who swells with pride when you tell them it's custom made by your intelligent husband

lovesick!muzan who doesn't sleep very often - nor do you, but when you lie down for a nap every decade or two, he will only protest once before joining you under the covers

lovesick!muzan who sleeps on his back with your arm slung over his chest and your face buried in the crook of his neck - he's not one to fall asleep fast, but he stays and rubs small circles into your shoulder as you sleep peacefully

lovesick!muzan who will admire you as you sleep, tracing your facial features and planting small pecks to your forehead - one of the very few times he'll smile kindly

lovesick!muzan who ventures into the human world with you on his arm, visiting the wealthiest parts of Japan and purchasing you anything you stare too long at - a foreign gold necklace, a luxurious kimono - anything, ask him for anything and it's yours

lovesick!muzan who knows you long to travel the world, but it is too much of a risk with sunlight still damning him to the shadows - but he gives you his word, that once he has conquered the sun and given you the same ability will he give you the world

lovesick!muzan who would rip cities apart and massacre villages if it brought a smile to that lovely face - he would approach you when it's done, drenched in blood yet not a hair out of place

he approached with arrogance in his step, pressed black suit velvet under the moons light. he stop before you and kneeled. his deep voice drawled: "have I pleased you, my love?" his eyes - a sharp red like the splatters of blood against his pale face - looked up at you expectantly. muzan knew you were, but oh how he loved to hear it. you smiled: "I'm beyond pleased, such a wonderful sight." as he rose you cupped his cheek and caressed the skin beneath his eye. "you always know how to make me happy."

lovesick!muzan who would tear any man or woman apart for staring at you with anything akin to lust or want - you are no longer phased by this habit of his

lovesick!muzan who drowns you in praise and whispers of love, paired with chaste kisses to your hands and cheeks

lovesick!muzan who ensures that his beloved wife lives a life of luxury and class, never needing to lift a finger, never needing to raise her voice, never needing to demand anything twice because it is done instantly

lovesick!muzan who bathes you in the finest blood - he'll sit on the edge of the large tub and read to you one of his many favourite poems or stories

you sat against the tub and leaned your head against the rest, a smile on your face. your knees poked from the red liquid, droplets running down the smooth skin of your thighs. his words were soft and deep as he recited a poem only a mind like his could understand. they lulled you to a peaceful mood, not quite asleep, but in a conscious state where all you could hear were your husbands words, and all you could feel was his hand linked with yours.

lovesick!muzan who initially refused to involve you in his work, but upon your constant pestering he finally admitted to his goal - the search for the blue spider lilly

lovesick!muzan who appreciated your efforts to finding this flower for him - you created a garden in a place between space and time, a dimension only the powerful could enter, and planted every seed you got your hands on in hopes that one day the blue flower would sprout from the ground

lovesick!muzan who adores your attempts to help him and loves visiting your garden when he is stressed - although he isn't confident this is the best way to find this flower, he appreciates the effort and comes to find peace within the garden

lovesick!muzan who, during upper moon meetings, will compare his demons to you

"in the past month my wife has made far more progress in obtaining the blue spider lilly than any of you have in the last century," muzan sneered and looked down upon his most powerful creations. such a waste of blood they turned out to be - perhaps he should consider replacements. "please, my lord! please forgive us!" hantengu cried on his hands and knees. "I do not want excuses," muzan said with a narrowed glare. he overlooked all his upper moons and felt disgust in the pit of his stomach at how far they had fallen. centuries they had lived, thousands they has slaughtered and consumed without mercy, hundreds they tortured for entertainment, yet they fall short when finding a flower. how dishonorable, how frustrating, how insulting to his and his wife's name. "I want results."

lovesick!muzan who met you when he was human, the beautiful, kind and intelligent daughter of his doctor, and never cared for you in the beginning, but as you appeared more and more, he grew to enjoy your company

lovesick!muzan who fell in love and so desperately wanted to give you the life you deserved, but from the confines on his bed it seemed impossible

lovesick!muzan who grew bitter and angry at the thought that one day soon he would die and you would take another man - he swore to you that if he lived he would give you everything you deserved

lovesick!muzan who becomes a demon thanks to your fathers innovation, and quickly turns you too, making work of his promise in giving you everything you deserve - power, wealth, loyal servants, a kingdom and a title

lovesick!muzan who never would have fallen in love with you had you not been there since the very beginning, but is so thankful you were because he cannot bare to think how empty and lonely his life would be without you

#muzan kibutsuji #demon slayer muzan #muzan x reader #demon slayer #kibutsuji muzan #kny