#mummy reader

[odditycircus-2002]

Hmm, any chance you could do some hcs with a Fem Mummy! Reader x Quan Chi (MK1) with the basic premise being that the reader was revived by Quan Chi and is actually happy with being alive (or at least close to it) and as a result is loyal to him and later fell in love?

A/N: I can indeed!😄 Hope you don’t mind, but I’m a fan of Corpse Bride and Imhotep from Brendan Fraser's "The Mummy".

Eternally Loyal

Admittedly, you were caught off guard when pulled from your eternal rest, only to be thrust to life once more. Yet it was soon replaced with sheer joy when realizing you are walking among the Land of the Living again. By the looks of it, you had the mysterious pale necromancer that stood above you, your now beating and glowing heart in his hand.

He introduced himself as Quan-chi, the most powerful sorcerer in Outworld, Master of the Dead, and now your reanimator. You sincerely thank him for bringing you back to life, as you had only begun to achieve your true ambitions and plans. Quan-chi suggests that you may still be able to after you settle your debt with him. According to your House's tradition, those who save a member of the House of L/N are now indebted to the first. Bringing life back to your revived corpse counts as keeping one's life in your book.

You don't doubt that, with your reanimation, you were undoubtedly gone for a long while and thus in a whole new world and unknown territory. You figured it'd be best to make nice with your guide if you want to gain any advantage.

Quan-chi smirked when you inevitably questioned how you could repay your new debt to him.

"You can start by serving under me until I deem your debt repaid in full."

"On your soul then..."

Which Quan-chi agreed, but whether or not he was sincerely remained to be seen.

Quan-chi had made it so you had to occasionally steal and absorb body parts from others to remain alive and whole. While Quan-chi resurrected your heart and soul and used to influence your actions, they can keep you tethered to the mortal plane for so long without refueling. So you keep yourself wrapped up as you were to not reveal your constantly rotting and healing body.

But even with such a weakness, you have been given strength as Quan-chi gifted you with the ability to drain the moisture out of anything by touch alone (excluding himself), control over sand, and become sand, your preexisting telekinetic abilities.

Since then, you have loyally served under Quan-chi, executing every order and task with near perfection without question. Fervently hanging on to his every word and feat of magic so you may one day use it for yourself when you feel the time is right. You also had no issue cutting down any of your fellow minions if you think they are disobedient to your master. To which Quan-chi is not against, even with one of the demons from his Sisterhood of Shadow. In fact, he's growing fond of your usefulness and how you serve him well.

As powerful as Ermac turned out to be, he was ultimately a failure in Quan-chi's eyes. The same applies to Ashrah, whom Quan-chi could not control. Which is a shame to the sorcerer, as both were powerful tools. Oh well, if you do not succeed at first, try again.

In comes you, a mummified Edenian Noble renowned for her ruthlessness, problem-solving, and tenacity during a warring era before Sindel’s Golden Era. Who has (yet) to disobey him. Unfortunately, you were cut down in your prime on the eve you were to marry your betrothed to secure an alliance with another nation. A shame, really, as you had plans for the future. But you're just happy to be alive.

It helps that Quan-chi praises you whenever you perform a task well for him, such as uncovering lost grimoires, to encourage you to continue aiding him and fulfilling your debt. Eventually, Quan-chi awards your efforts with gifts such as flowers or a new robe as you continuously serve him well in his quest to overthrow Liu Kang. With each gift, you could've sworn you felt your heart beating within your chest, and not hiding on Quan-chi's person.

Often, he would converse with you about his studies and discoveries, doing most of the talking as you just listened and reacted. You couldn't help but notice how Quan-chi treats you more amiably, almost as much as he is with Shang Tsung, his fellow sorcerer. Perhaps even as a companion, as he prefers to have you follow him for his tasks the most. You like to think its because the Sorcerer has the same admiration for you as you do for him, as silly as it sounds and which you would be caught absolutely dead saying aloud.

Speaking of the snake-like Sorcerer, Quan-chi proudly introduced you to Shang Tsung as his latest work of genius once. The latter critically looked you up and down and admired the magic used to keep you together. Although to not admit to Quan-chi's magical prowess, Shang Tsung would ask.

"How do you know this minion won't turn on you like the others?"

You opened your mouth to defend yourself, your looser wrapping unraveling and posing to strike down the blasphemous Sorcerer, but before you could make the blow, Quan-chi explains.

"She won't,"

Quan-chi would glance back at you and softly run a hand under your chin, which you followed with your head.

"But even if the impossible happens, I hold their heart."

Quan-chi would summon your purple and green heart into his hand, petting it with his free hand like a small pet.

"It would be such a waste if I must. Isn't that right, Y/N?"

You, of course, nodded. That was the closest you would receive as an admittance of love from someone like Quan-chi.

Playlist while writing this:

"Loyalty" - Maria's Theme from Mad Father

"In the Dark of the Night" -by Christopher Lloyd

"Mr.Sandman" -by The Chordettes

"Monster" -by Lady Gaga

" Dark Horse”-Cover by Our Last Night

“I miss the misery”-by Halestorm.

[kyseya]

Ancient Mummy

Imagine working as an archaeologist for a museum. However things hasn’t been going so well lately and there are hardly any visitors during opening hours. Sadly, you’ll be forced to close multiple exhibitions and if conditions are not met, the entire museum might have to shut down.

But by some miracle, a new tomb has been discovered in Egypt; undisturbed, unexplored and completely untouched by humans for centuries. It’s said to be the grave of an ancient king- a pharaoh- who was betrayed and murdered by his own cousin.

It’s the perfect opportunity! Maybe you’ll find something that can bring back interest and by extension, save the museum.

You go along with a few other colleagues to the site in Egypt. The journey was a bit tough but it was a hindered percent worth it. With avid curiosity you explore alone and with the others, the different things to find inside the tomb; artifacts and additional discoveries. It’s all very interesting. Wanting to save the best for last, you finally get an in-person look at the grave itself- the sarcophagus.

You have already heard the main tale of the pharaoh within, so you are a little surprised that there is more to the story than you previously believed.

Over the entire stone coffin were multiple hieroglyphs, each one helping and becoming a story together. Your collegue read some inscriptions and told you a basic summary of what it’s about.

Centuries ago there was a king. He had a wife whom he adored more than anything. She was provided with riches, glory and honour. There was nothing he wouldn’t accomplish for her. The people saw the care he held for his wife and therefore both respected and feared her as well, since any ounce of rudeness might end up with their heads spiked on a pole. It was a punishment fitting for those who dare disrespect his queen.

Unfortunately tragedy struck- a disease, more specifically. It took the lives of many and left whole villages empty. That hardly mattered to the pharaoh though, all his focus went to his ill wife; she, too, had been snatched by death. Up until the moment of her demise the pharaoh spent all day and all night at her side, attentively worrying about her needs. When she was gone he was ruined. He didn’t eat, he didn’t sleep, he didn’t even have the energy to clean himself. What was the point? His beloved was gone so there wasn’t really anything left for him.

It was after this that everything took a turn. It appeared that the king had enough with laying around and decided to do something. There were records of him behaving strangely- even by ancient standards- and drabbling in dark magic. He was later overthrown by his brother, who ordered him to be buried alive. It was quite the terrifying penalty go give one’s sibling. The brother didn’t want the darkness to spread out into the world from the old pharaoh, so he locked him inside the sarcophagus and sealed him far away.

What a tragic story, you thought. Well it was back in the old times and a lot of things were practiced then that aren’t okay in modern day. You suppose it wasn’t the most horrible incident that have happened.

It hadn’t been long since your colleague told you the backstory of the tomb and its inhibitor, but now the others wants to get to the good part and open up the stone coffin. You don’t think it’s the best idea in the world- of course something like this needs to be examined closely and so on, but there is something special about the tomb.

Ever since you’ve arrived, you have had a strange feeling following you around. It’s hard to explain. You feel almost drawn to the sarcophagus or perhaps it’s because it feels as if it is looking back at you. You tried ignoring it, however, the feeling came back stronger than ever the moment the others began preparing to open it up.

You should have told them of your concerns. If you did, then maybe this wouldn’t have happened.

The first few seconds after opening it everything was fine. All was as it should be; people flocking around to see the discovery and fawn over it while being mindful of its fragility. Then it changed. Your colleague who had been the closest had suddenly been strangled by the thin, dirty arm belonging to none other than the ancient corpse that previously had been resting in death. Everyone was silent as her face turned blue from the lack of oxygen. It was only after she fell to the floor dead that people began panicking. It was hard to process what had just happened, after all.

There was chaos.

Folk ran around like chickens fleeing from a fox that’d managed to get inside the coop. In a way, that was exactly what was going on, though. You had watched as the mummified corpse sat right up and climbed its way out of the cold coffin. It stumbled on its bony legs and quickly found a cornered man and approached him. He screamed when the mummy grabbed ahold of his face and brought it before its own. The creature started sucking the life out of the man- literally.

The man who had previously been a healthy and active person was now shrivelled up like a raisin. His face was dry and wrinkled. He died soon afterwards, only a soft wheeze leaving his lips as he passed.

The opposite seemed to happen to the former-corpse, though. It attacked more and more people and for every kill, it appeared to revert to its original state- a man, pharaoh of an ancient kingdom. The flesh grew back and filled up in the right places and he seemed human again.

How can that be? He had been dead for centuries. Although, just about everything was pretty fucked up in this moment, so his make-over is the least important factor.

You backed into a corner. Your eyes followed the mummy’s every move, it was impossible to look away. There was hardly anyone left apart from you. The one person that was still there was getting attacked by the monster and it wasn’t long until they were reduced to nothing.

Now it was just you and the creature, and it appeared it knew that too.

It turned to look at you. The mummy had now completely reverted back into a man and he was nothing short of breathtaking(and very naked, but you tried not to think about it). It pained to to admit it but it was the truth. He was easily the most handsome man you’d ever laid eyes on. His long, dark hair flowed when he stalked towards you. Despite his outer beauty, you couldn’t forget what you’d just witnessed him do.

Trembling, you pressed yourself against the wall. “Stay away.” you weakly mumbled.

‘This is it. My time is over.’

You closed your eyes in fear and braced yourself for the pain that would undoubtedly come; only it didn’t. Instead of death, a hand grazed your cheek. It was a light touch, one reserved for something valuable and fragile.

A raspy voice talked, “…My love..it is you..”

You had no idea what he said, it sounded like an ancient language. You had studied hieroglyphs but did not know anything about what speech might’ve sounded like. You decided to be brave and slightly opened your eyes.

The mummy was staring at you, but there was no malice or hatred in his expression. In fact, the only emotion you could find on his face was amazement, shock and….love? No, that can’t be. This is not some ‘lovers reunited’ situation.

“How can this be? Death took you and left me all alone- not that I hold you accountable, of course. I know you would never seek to hurt me.” the mummy kept muttering to himself. “Perhaps….the magic worked after all?”

His face brightened and he smiled gently at you. Whilst he happily went on about something, you became more confused than earlier. What the hell was going on? He committed multiple murders in one swoop and now, suddenly, he is acting like you’re friends talking about your day. He isn’t even human! Or at least not anymore, not really.

You voiced this opinion weakly, “Ummm, could you let me go?” You tried pulling away from his touch, uncomfortable at his caresses.

His brows furrowed at your reaction. From the look of it, he didn’t understand you any better than you did him. He focused at the subtle way you attempted to peel his hand off your arm. You let out a yelp when his arms snaked around your waist and he pulled you into his embrace.

He leaned down and whispered into your ear, petting your hair at the same time. “Wife, why do you seem unhappy at my presence? I do not understand. Are you not joyous at our reunion? I love you so, I cannot comprehend any reason why you would not wish to see me.”

Even if you didn’t know what he was saying, you could hear the sadness in his voice. The pain and desperation. No! You couldn’t feel sad for him. He had murdured multiple of your colleagues, he’s evil! Although, why hasn’t he killed you yet? It’s very strange indeed.

The mummy continued, “I can sense things are not as they used to be. Things are different now. Although I do not know the extent of it. However I am most certain of one thing; I have miraculously been reunited with my love and I do not plan on letting you fall through my grasp again.”

He held you in an almost suffocating hug.

“I shall make you my queen once more.”

[lordkryze]

It’s been following me everywhere

[callsign-coolsquirrel]

"Well personally I think he's filthy, rude,a complete scoundrel-" *dreamy sigh*

[obsessivevoidkitten]

That's a Wrap!

Kinktober 2024 Day 2: Bondage

Mummified Lich Male Yandere x Gender Neutral Reader

CW: noncon, bondage, undead yandere, necromancy, graverobbing, mild blood drinking, biting, magic, soul binding, cock warming, overstimulation, controlling yandere, general yandere behavior

Word Count: 1k

(Honestly not my best work. A bit rushed. Smut isn't super detailed. But I hope you guys like it anyway.)

You didn't really think of yourself as a grave robber. Of course not! You were an explorer, a treasure hunter, a daring person who went on adventures into dangerous dungeons! Now, did that sometimes involve liberating certain valuables from the entombed? Sure.

In fact, that's just what you were doing. You had found a map in your travels that had led you to an ancient dungeon in which a long dead king was rumored to be entombed… along with all of his many treasures…

The entrance was concealed deep within a hidden cave. The opening had collapsed, but you had the right equipment for the job.

Though you lacked any ability to naturally cast spells, you did have several one-time use earth scrolls that would allow you to use their stored magic to clear the cave and make sure it was fully stable. Of course, you also had a scroll of teleportation so you could easily leave with the loot and a scroll of healing in case of injury.

You continued until you found a magically sealed door, though it seemed age had weakened it just enough for it to be broken by your enchanted pickaxe. You proceeded through the antechamber and into the main room. 

Strange. Absolutely no treasures filled the room, no artifacts mounted on the walls, no jars, urns, statues, or gold. It was just a plain, pristine room with some glyphs and runes.

But in the center, there were stairs leading to a stone sarcophagus. This was it, the resting place of King Relik. For something containing royalty, it was disappointingly plain. Maybe he was buried during a time of extreme poverty. You knew you were the first "liberator of treasures" though; you had been the one to break the sealed door. 

Well… a bit macabre, but you could still sell the mummy itself if nothing else. It alone would be a mighty fine pay day. Though you held out hope that some valuables remained in the sarcophagus.

You carefully shipped away at it with your pick. At about the halfway mark, it burst open on its own. 

King Relik rose from his 2300 year old prison with a yawn. He was mostly covered in strips of cloth. Upon spotting you, he willed his wrappings to extend and curl around you. 

The wrappings fell from his body, revealing him to have pale grey-white skin, ling black hair, dark rings around his eyes, and a muscular body.

The gauze evidently held spells to incapacitate whoever they bound but were no longer strong enough to hold such a powerful mage-king like Relik. 

You were only left uncovered from the neck up. The now naked former monarch bit your neck and drew blood, sucking only a few drinks from you. 

As he drank from you, he learned your language and your most recent actions and motives.

"Ha! A grave robber. I like you!"

You had no idea that he had been sealed there for trying to conquer the world as an undead lich. They couldn't kill him no matter how hard they tried, so they used the strongest magic possible to seal him away.

And you had broken the last bits of that waning magic. 

He kissed your neck where he had bitten you and cradled you carefully. He summoned up some clothes for himself. It was all he could do with his powers as weakened as they were.

Relik rummaged through your pack and found what he was looking for. The teleportation scroll linked to your nice private home.

How quaint. He never had to resort to a spell scroll before. 

Once at your place, he took the bindings off, laughed as you struggled, removed your clothing, and then re-wrapped your arms and legs.

"I don't really need these enchanted bindings to restrain you, but you look rather cute all tied up like this."

All you could do was make a distressed expression. He ruffled your hair to comfort you.

"Don't worry. It wouldn't be very kingly of me to just dispose of someone who freed me… especially when they have such a delicious expression of fear."

The lich bit his finger so that a drop of blood flowed from it, he put it in your mouth so that you would know who he was and what he intended. His blood power would work both ways, should he will it. 

Suddenly, his intent flooded into your mind. You now knew that from the moment he had tasted your blood, he intended to reward you for freeing him. He liked your personality and slightly questionable morals for wealth.

Your reward would be an immortal lifetime of getting dicked down by him. 

That night alone, he used a spell to make sure you were lubed and ready, then tied you up, and had you in nearly every possible position. His favorite was simply bouncing you on his dick with your hands, bound behind your back. 

Though the magic fabric wasn't on your mouth, its enchantment kept from making all but the softest moans and gasps. Good thing too, thought Relik. Otherwise, you may have damaged your voice.

Only when you literally passed out against his chest from the exhaustion and overstimulation from hours of sex did he finally remove the bandages. Instead, he held you close in his arms and used you to warm his cock as he fell asleep too.

Over the next few days, he would get enough of his strength back to make you magically addicted and dependent on him. This was to ensure you could never leave him.

He also used a spell to make it so you couldn't speak of him or otherwise communicate his existence to other people.

After a few months, he had enough power to tie your very soul to his for all eternity, causing you to become a lich as well. He sealed this soul pact with a magical collar he had you wear.

In every possible way, sexually, spiritually, and physically, Relik owned you. He may have been a mummy when you met him, but you were the one who was all wrapped up and bound. 

[klauw22]

little lore/fic/x reader stuff under cut bcs im insane abt mummy vencha,,,

Sloane Cameron, once a young devotee to the kings and queens of the land has been chosen to be sealed alive in the royal temple in order to guard the graves and riches of the dead. Unbeknownst to them, the scripture painted onto their limbs and back were not for protection or luck in the afterlife like they've been told, but rather curses and spells binding their soul onto the thin thread which laid between the two realms, dividing the living from the dead. That is where their soul was now bound to wander until eternity, losing their grip on mortality yet unable to pass on like the rest.

With time their flesh rotted away leaving nothing but a husk of sand and bones. Before sealing, their sight was blinded as they weren't worthy of looking onto the royals that rested within these tombs, not even in death, and to ensure that Sloane wouldn't try to escape.

For centuries the guardian remained asleep in their designated chamber. That was until now. Until you and your crew of explorers too curious for your own good uncovered the entrance to the temple, awakening the guardian from their peaceful slumber in the process.

The guardian now awake had one goal in mind.

With a torch in hand you scanned the golden walls upon entering, lightly tracing your fingers along the carved paintings. Sand and dust coating your fingertips. For a moment you swore you could feel another presence there with you. Another pair of eyes watching, lingering on you while your crew stayed behind. The room suddenly felt cooler, as if a draft of cold air passed through you making a shiver run up your spine. This spooked you even further but you were determined to continue onward.

Its probably just my imagination you tried to comfort yourself as you stepped deeper.

[imagination-phantom]

Day 13! Mummy!

Ever go on an Epic Sea Grunkle adventure to find the allusive mummy in some old ruins and you find it and it’s just this little fella?

[czl4t]

Happy thanksgiving,

I’m grateful for Patti Lupone. 😩

(and for everyone feeding me with those scrumptious fics)

YALL DONT KNOW HOW CRAZY I AM FOR THIS WOMAN

[radiolore]

MUMMY VENTURE WITH THAT ONE EGYPTIAN SONG TREND ON TITKTOK😧😧🫵🫵

not the cat one

why is tweening so hard ☹️☹️

but also I'm rlly proud of this tehehehehehehehe I kinda wanna make more stuff like this

anywayz here is my yearly post for 2025 baiii I'll see y'all in 2026 🚶👋

mummy venture design by: @zandiiangelspit

I SOELLED IT WEONG IN THE VIDEO IM DYSLEXIC IM SO SORRY 😭😭🙏

^link to my tiktok post btw if u wanna support teehee

[youngcroissantturkeyworribler]

Applicable to any monster.

[flightlessangelwings]

FawKtober2024 Part 4- Ardeth Bay

Ardeth Bay x fem!reader

Kinks- praise, voice kink, squirting

Word count- 1.4k

Warnings- s.mut (18+ ONLY!), oral (f receiving), praise, pet names, unprotected sex, feelings, no physical description of reader other than body parts, no use of y/n

Notes- I have loved Ardeth for 20 years and tumblr loves The Mummy so why not take Kinkotber to write some love for him!! I know this may be more niche but I dont care I loved writing this so to those few who will appreciate this I hope you like it too!

@flightlessangelwings-updates is my update blog so please follow that too and turn on post notifs!

~

Heat pounded on you as you worked at your little stall in the market. It wasn’t a particularly busy day, yet you kept busy. You looked over your wares, making sure everything was right as you wiped a bead of sweat from your forehead. Letting out a sigh, you were grateful that the day was almost over. And then you heard a familiar, welcome voice.

“If it isn’t the most beautiful desert flower?”

A smile brighter than the sun lit up your face as you turned around, “Ardeth,” you breathed. 

“It’s always a pleasure to see your beautiful face,” his own face lit up as well as his heart pounded in his chest. Ardeth always looked forward to the days he was able to ride into town and stop at your stall for supplies. He took your hand and brought it up to his face, placing a soft kiss on the back of it.

Somehow, you felt even warmer than before, “The pleasure is all mine,” your voice sounded distant as you felt his lips on your hand. The world felt like it stopped for a moment as Ardeth’s lips lingered on your skin. When he broke away, you gazed into his eyes, losing yourself in them for another moment before you finally spoke up again, “Your usual, Ardeth?” you asked in a breathy voice.

He nodded as he also seemed to break himself of his own trance as he grabbed his supply bags.

*

“My desert flower is even more beautiful in the moonlight,” Ardeth murmured as he gazed over your body as you laid bare for him on your bed.

“Ardeth…” you felt a fresh wave of heat and tingles through your body at the way he looked so adoringly at you, “Kiss me,” you whispered.

He smiled down at you before he complied with your request. Ardeth gently placed his lips over yours in a soft, sweet kiss. He hummed into you as you parted your lips for him in an open invitation, and the moment he tasted you, he groaned. Tasting you was like biting into a sweet, juicy fruit for the first time, and to Ardeth that’s what you were. 

You moaned into the kiss as Ardeth devoured you. His beard tickled your skin, adding to the sensations. And you wrapped your arms around him, holding him close. You arched your back, pushing your body against his as much as you could, feeling every inch of him as you were able to.

“You taste so good, my flower,” he murmured as he kissed his way down your neck.

You let out a short giggle as Ardeth’s beard tickled the skin on your neck. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders as one hand rested in his thick hair. Giggles quickly turned to moans as he nibbled on your sensitive skin.

“Mmm,” you moaned as your lips dropped open.

“That’s it,” he purred, “Let me hear how beautiful you sound,” Ardeth dipped his head down and took your nipple in his mouth, making you cry out even louder.

“Ardeth…” you breathed his name as his tongue swirled around your nipple while his hands kneaded your breasts gently. He worked slowly, taking his time with you to pull out every sound he could from deep within you.

“You rival that of the god of beauty,” Ardeth hummed as he kissed his way down your body.

“Keep talking,” you moaned as you felt a wave of tinglings up your spine whenever Ardeth spoke.

He smirked, “With pleasure,” he replied as he kissed your hip, “You quench this man’s thirst more than the freshest water ever could,” he kissed the other hip, “You taste sweeter than the finest fruit,” he kissed the inside of your thigh, “Your beauty shines brighter than the sun.”

All you could do was moan as his voice played the strings of your heart. Heavy panting escaped your lips as your mind swam in the bliss his mouth gave you. And it only exploded even more when Ardeth finally put his mouth on your pussy. You screamed in pleasure as his tongue lapped at your wetness.

“Perfection,” he groaned as he took a breath, “You truly are a gift. Your body is an oasis in the desert.”

Anything you might have said was gone as Ardeth devoured your pussy once more. You surrendered yourself to the pleasure that was his tongue as he lapped you up greedily. Tears filled your eyes as you felt his tongue run up and down your folds before circling your clit. You held onto his shoulders as your legs trembled on either side of his body. His strong hands held you in place as you squirmed under his grip.

“Ardeth… I’m…” you moaned as you felt like the dam that held you back was about to break.

“Let go, my love,” Ardeth hummed, barely pulling himself from your body, “Show me how beautiful you are when you let go.”

Your breath hitched in your throat, his name just on the tip of your tongue as your climax suddenly hit as he swirled his tongue around your clit. With a loud scream and trembling limbs, you came hard, gushing into his mouth as you cried out his name in pure ecstasy.  

Ardeth groaned into you as he lapped up your release, savoring the taste of your juices as you rode out your orgasm on his face. He let out a low growl as he felt his beard dampen from how hard your climax hit you, and he couldn’t stop until he was sure he lapped up every single drop from your body.

Breaking away with a deep breath, both of you gasped as you flopped flat on your back while Ardeth sat up and admired you in the low moonlight. Your breasts rose and fell from your heavy breaths as you recovered your strength, and Ardeth could only stare in awestruck wonder at how beautiful you looked in that moment. 

Feeling his gaze on you, you blinked your eyes open, “What?” you asked, suddenly feeling embarrassed for some reason.

“My love,” he muttered as he cupped your face, “Nothing compares to your beauty.” There was no hint of irony in his eyes as he admired you.

“Ardeth…”

“And that was better than the water you sold me,” he added with a soft laugh.

You joined his laughter as you pulled him close. Kissing him deeply, you whispered against his lips, “I need you, Ardeth.”

He groaned as the strain between his own legs suddenly called his attention. Ardeth was so consumed by you that he ignored his own need, but the way you moaned for him made that desire explode within him. “I cannot deny you, my goddess,” he groaned as he lined himself up with your entrance.

Both of you gasped as he pushed inside you, his cock easily sliding in from how wet you were. You each moaned the other’s name as he thrust into you over and over again, overwhelmed by the unquenchable thirst he had for you. And you welcomed Ardeth into your body with delight, savoring the feeling of him entering you again and again.

“My flower,” Ardeth groaned, “I won’t last much longer,” he grunted as he felt you clench around him, “You feel too good.”

“Ardeth,” you mewled as you clawed at his back, “Please…” Your own climax also quickly approached from how good he felt inside of you.

It only took a few more thrusts for both of you to come undone at the same time. Cried of bliss echoed between your bodies as Ardeth pressed his forehead to yours while he rode out both of your climaxes. Your bodies trembled against the other as passions came to a boil and you both clung to each other in desperate need.

Once he had no more to give, Ardeth pulled out of you in one motion, causing you to whimper. He didn’t break far from you, however, and he quickly laid down next to you, gathering you in his arms and savoring the feeling of your body against his. Both of you knew he couldn’t stay longer than the night, so you both made the best of it while you could. You would never ask him to forsake his oath, and he couldn’t ask you to leave with him. So you both enjoyed the moments you had together while you could.

[multi-fandom-imagine]

Just to see you smile || Rick O’Connell ||

A/n: this won't do well but i cont care

Sand clung to your boots as you crouched beside an ancient stone tablet, carefully brushing away centuries of dust and time. The hieroglyphs carved into the weathered limestone were familiar yet cryptic—echoes of myth, warnings whispered from the past.

You adjusted your spectacles and exhaled. “This is a curse tablet—meant to protect the tomb from desecration.”

“Great,” Rick’s voice drawled behind you. “Just what we need. Another curse.”

You smiled faintly but didn’t look up. “I told you. They’re more symbolic than supernatural. A psychological deterrent. Mostly.”

Rick raised a brow at that. “Mostly?”

From the other side of the ruins, the Americans were being their usual loud, boisterous selves—clinking bottles, laughing, accidentally detonating minor traps. You tried to focus, but the sunlight was brutal, and your notebook was practically useless without… well…

“I’d give anything for one of those magnifying readers Daniels was using,” you muttered, mostly to yourself. “You can’t make out these glyphs without one.”

Rick heard you.

He looked over, spotted Daniels, the beefy, cigar-smoking loudmouth from the American team, using a shiny brass magnifier with a retractable arm. It was perfect. Small enough to swipe. Useful enough to matter. And if it made you smile.

Well, then.

That night, while everyone was distracted by a rowdy fireside poker game and Ardeth was dramatically sharpening his scimitar in a corner like the brooding sand-warrior he was, Rick slipped away.

The next morning, you sat cross-legged on the floor of the temple chamber, trying again to copy the curse script into your journal by torchlight. Your brows were furrowed, lips pursed, focus narrowed.

A small shadow fell over your work.

You looked up—and there was Rick, arms folded, wearing that ruggedly smug expression that only spelled trouble.

“Morning, Doc.”

“Morning, Rick,” you said absently. “Don’t step on the—”

He tossed something into your lap.

You blinked. It was the exact magnifier Daniels had been using yesterday, polished and intact.

You looked from the tool to Rick, eyes wide. “How—where did you—?”

Rick smirked. “Let’s just say Daniels owes me… nothing.”

“Rick!” You bit your lip, half laughing, half scandalized. “You stole this?”

“I prefer ‘borrowed indefinitely,’” he said, crouching beside you. “You said you needed it. I figured I’d help.”

Your fingers tightened on the magnifier, heart fluttering. “You did all that… just so I could work easier?”

Rick shrugged casually, but his gaze was warm, fixed on you.

“Not really about the work,” he said gruffly. “I just like seeing you smile.

Your cheeks heated instantly.

And when you did smile—slow and soft, sweet and a little bashful—Rick looked like a man who’d just uncovered a priceless artifact.

“Worth it,” he murmured.

You laughed, eyes bright. ��You’re impossible.”

He gave you a wink. “And yet, here I am. Your favorite scoundrel.”

And when you leaned over to press a grateful kiss to his cheek, Rick froze—just for a second—before grinning like he’d just won the jackpot.

He’d brave a dozen curses for that smile again

[papathe5th]

“Would you like some?”

Papa V Perpetua startled you when he spoke around the cigarette he rolled before your very hungry, very thirsty eyes. The black lips he locked around it had stamped the white paper and revealed themselves a pink underneath. And, in the shade of the lilac bush, his left eye burned brighter than the end of the cigarette.  

“Sorella?” 

He brought you back to earth, back in the Ministry gardens where you stumbled upon him in his clerical robes buttoned up and his leather gloves off. He had invited you to sit with him and you watched his long pale fingers work.

“Y-yes,” you cleared your voice, your throat already parched. “Please.”

Papa inhaled, pitched the cigarette with two fingers and pulled it out of his mouth. But he didn’t exhale, extending his free fingers to catch you by your chin and dragged down your bottom lip. He didn’t need to tell you to open your mouth, it fell open as his own descended onto you.  

And you inhaled his second hand smoke when he blew it between your parted lips. “Thank you, Papa.”

[fluentmoviequoter]

Pain Relief

Rick O'Connell x fem!researcher!reader

Summary: Rick O'Connell seems like a pain in your side, until he shows up at your door in the middle of the night with a wound in his own side.

Warnings/Word Count: post The Mummy (late 1930s), injuries, fluff/comfort, confessions and kisses, 2.3k+ words

Pictures from Pinterest

“In the New Kingdom he was venerated as the patron of scribes, personifying wisdom and education,” you read under your breath. “In the ‘Turin Papyri’ from this period he is also recognized as the son of Ptah, chief god of Memphis, in recognition of his role as a wise counselor… So, where’d the ‘Pharoah’s high priest, keeper of the dead’ come from?” Running your finger along the page, you scrunch your nose to push your magnifying glasses up. “His reputation lasted until the Arab invasion of North Africa in the seventh century AD.”

“That doesn’t look like early American religion,” your professor chides, stopping behind your chair.

“Dr. Roberts,” you stutter, closing the large leather-bound book over your right hand. “I… I’m sorry.”

The older gentleman smiles kindly, patting the table beside you. “Never apologize for curiosity, dear. Although, I trust you’ll have your presentation ready on time.”

“Of course, Doctor.”

He nods, then disappears into the darkening library. You lift the glasses off your nose, setting them aside as you look at the ornate windows circling the roofline. The sun is setting over Washington, and you’ve fallen behind on your research. You can’t be blamed, you think as you open the book of Egyptian Historic Figures again. It wasn’t your idea to look into the 2600s BC. Someone more influential than you realized mentioned Imhotep’s name, and your curiosity got the better of you.

“God of invincibility,” you murmur. “Maybe Hamunaptra isn’t real, either.”

“Why not just write off Egypt altogether?” a familiar voice inquires from the other side of the table.

“Mr. O’Connell,” you greet without raising your eyes.

“What brings you to this corner of the library?” he asks.

“I suppose you think it’s you.”

You know he’s smiling, even without looking up. He lays one hand on the table, spreading his fingers as he leans toward you. “I’d never flatter myself so.”

“I’ll have you know, Mr. O’Connell-“

“Rick,” he interrupts.

“Mr. O’Connell,” you repeat firmly, glancing up at him. His hair has grown out since you last saw him, loose strands falling toward his eyes as he dips his chin toward you. You forget what you were saying, and his smile tilts like he knows, because of course he does.

“I’ve found a connection between ancient Egyptian patrons and early American religions,” you explain softly. It’s a lie, but if you admit you’re here because of Rick O’Connell, he’ll never let you live it down.

“Hamunaptra is real,” he assures you, tapping the table. “So was Imhotep, even if the history books on this side of the pond got it all wrong.”

“Right,” you agree. Rick has a bag beside him, you notice. Furrowing your brows, you wonder, “Going on another adventure?”

Rick’s smile droops as he glances over his shoulder. “Something like that,” he murmurs.

“Best of luck,” you whisper, watching his profile. “If there’s a Lansburgh’s wherever you're going, be sure to pick me up a postcard.”

Rick shakes his head, then rakes his fingers through his hair. “I’ll bring you more than a postcard,” he promises. “Good luck studying.”

“Researching,” you correct.

“Not right now, you're not,” he points out.

“Right,” you agree, looking back at the book. The Egyptian book. You close it, stand, and pull the heavy cover to your chest while Rick watches.

“Good night,” he says.

“Shh!” someone hisses from across the library.

You smile at Rick, nod, and turn away from him. Rick O’Connell has distracted you enough for one day, you tell yourself. Yet, as you approach the librarian to gather the books you need for research, you can’t help but wonder what he’s working on, what adventure he’s going on this time.

You wake, blinking once as you try to remember where you are. Blink again, trying to decipher what time it is. The third blink is interrupted by another knock on your door. Lifting your head, you see your notes beneath you, the papers wrinkled from falling asleep atop them. The knocking continues, the noise softer now. You stand, looking around your chair for any trace of your slippers. They’re absent, and whoever is at your door seems more interested in the door opening than your modesty. Pulling your robe over your new pajamas, you walk toward the door, stifling a yawn.

“Who- who is it?” you inquire, holding your hand against the knob.

“Me,” the man outside replies.

You roll your eyes, unlocking the door to pull it open. “Gambling hall is down the street. And, yes, I know it’s there.”

Rick chuckles, leaning heavily against the door jamb. He smiles at you when you come into view, his eyes dropping to your outfit briefly.

“I know which one you’re talking about,” he murmurs. “But I don’t gamble… not with money.”

“Rick,” you whisper, looking over his shoulder. “Are you okay?”

He smiles, dropping his head against the door with a soft thud. You look at him, gasping when you see the dark red stain blooming beneath the empty leather holster against his ribs. A thin sheen of sweat coats his face, and his hair sticks to his forehead while his eyelids droop heavily.

“What happened?” you ask, opening the door wider.

“An adventure,” he mumbles, slipping against the door.

You push your shoulder beneath his arm, holding him up as well as you can. He’s taller and broader than you, but he’s conscious and strong enough to help, for now.

“You need a doctor,” you say, grunting under his weight as you encourage him to take another step.

“Can you sew?” he asks.

“Yes. When I have to.”

“You might have to.”

Rick falls heavily into your upholstered chair, groaning as he folds in on himself. His fingers, which you notice have been stained red, run along the delicate fabric before he slides off the cushion and onto the hardwood floor.

“What are you doing?” you demand, sinking to your knees beside him.

“Is’sa nice chair,” he slurs, cracking one eye open to look at you. “Are you going to do something? Or just give me a good view while I bleed out?”

“Right,” you mumble, laying your hands on his stomach. “I- Can I open your shirt?”

Rick opens his mouth, probably to make a fresh comment, but inhales before he says, “Yeah. Do whatever you need to.”

Your fingers shake as you unbutton the lower-most button. As you reach for the next one, Rick raises his hands to cover yours and roughly pulls the shirt open, sending buttons scattering across the floor.

You exhale, your heart pounding in your ears as you look at Rick’s side. The gash running from his upper hip to his lower rib is still bleeding, but it doesn’t look particularly deep. A dark bruise is blossoming across his chest, and scratches litter his neck and jawline. Whatever adventure he went on must have been dangerous. He’d meandered easily out of the library earlier, like any other day.

“You were gone for a few hours,” you muse. “How’d you get in this much trouble?”

“What can I say? It finds me.”

Rick’s muscles tense beneath your hands, and he moves away from you when you reach across him.

“Tickles,” he explains weakly.

You look down to find your robe is moving against Rick’s side. Standing, you pull it off your shoulders, letting it fall to the floor as you walk toward your bathroom. Rick watches you go, stares at your back until you disappear into the black and white tiled room.

When you return, carrying the heavy metal first aid kit your father bought you when you moved out on your own to pursue your studies, Rick’s eyes have closed again. His chest rises and falls steadily, and you try not to disturb him as you open the case.

He’s still bleeding. Your hands shake as you pull a roll of gauze from the kit, but if you use it to stop the bleeding, how will you wrap his wound? I'm not a nurse, for goodness' sake, I'm a researcher! you think.

Reaching over Rick’s legs, you pull your robe into your hand, then press it to his side. Pressing lightly against him, you look at Rick’s face. He doesn’t appear to be in any more pain than before, but this would be much easier if he were talking, you think. His teasing would lighten the mood, help calm you down, give you something else to think of other than the fact that he is bleeding on your floor.

“Why’d you come here?” you whisper, peeking beneath your bloody robe to check on him.

“Because I trust you,” Rick murmurs.

“You’re supposed to be unconscious.”

“Sorry,” he replies. “I’ll try harder next time.”

You shake your head at his comment, forcing yourself to focus. The bleeding has nearly stopped, so you open a bandage and set it aside while you open a small bottle of antiseptic.

“This is going to burn,” you warn. “I’m sorry.”

“Like the Egyptian sun?” he questions.

You pour the liquid iodine onto his side, flinching sympathetically when Rick jerks to the side and groans, clenching his teeth together against the pain.

“I don’t have the experience to make that comparison,” you say, brushing your fingers over his side.

“I do,” Rick grumbles. “That was worse.”

“Okay,” you murmur. “Okay. You’re going to be fine.”

“I was hoping you’d say that.”

“Rick,” you begin. “Where’s your gun?”

“With a friend.”

You hum, aware that Rick has more people in his life than just you. Yet, he’s trusting you to save his life, or at least patch him up.

“I hope I unloaded it,” he continues. “Would hate to be blamed for Jonathan shooting himself in the foot… again.”

Taping the bandage to Rick’s side, you trace your eyes along his chest, up to his jawline. When you reach his eyes, he’s watching you, too.

“What?” you inquire, pinching your brows. “Did I do something wrong?”

Rick shakes his head, his eyes dropping to your exposed collarbone. He looks up again, pausing briefly at your lips, you think.

“Thank you,” Rick says. His voice is different, no teasing, no question, just genuine gratitude.

“Of course, Mr. O’Connell,” you reply, swallowing as you turn to busy yourself with putting the first aid kit away.

Rick reaches out for you, wrapping his fingers gently around your wrist. Freezing, you drop the cotton pads you’d been holding as you look at him.

“Rick,” he reminds you. “You said it. Before.”

“I thought you might be in trouble.”

“I’m always in trouble.”

He smiles as you shake your head, dropping your eyes again. Rick tugs your wrist gently as he sits up, leaning against the chair behind him. His shirt falls open, revealing his tanned skin and bandaged side. He bends his knee, nudges the first aid kit aside before he taps your wrist, encouraging you to come closer.

“The National Museum of Natural History inherited a collection of, um… Chicago overcoats,” Rick explains as you move closer to him, sitting on your knees beside his hip.

“Coffins?” you clarify.

Rick nods before he continues, “A few friends of mine were called in to check on them, authenticate where they came from. Someone else was interested in them.”

“And you were… cut by this someone?”

“More or less.”

“Have you ever been honest with me?” you challenge, smiling.

“Once,” he answers, looking into your eyes.

You swallow, unsure what the look in his eyes means.

“The day we met,” he adds.

“Are you okay?” you ask again.

“Not what we’re talking about. When we met, I told you something. That was true.”

“You didn’t tell me anything,” you argue. “Dr. Roberts, however, was informed that I was too - what was it? – too pretty to be hidden behind old, dusty books?”

Rick shrugs, smiling. “It was true.”

“Maybe we should get you to a doctor.” You press your hand against his forehead and frown. “You lost a lot of blood. You’re not making much sense.”

Rick scoffs, pulling your hand away from his forehead so both of your hands are in his. “There’s no connection between Imhotep and the colonists’ religion, is there?” he asks.

“No,” you admit. “They were mostly monotheists.”

“So, why the interest in Egypt?”

“I’m sure someone like you can figure that out,” you murmur.

Rick smiles, leaning up toward you. When the bandage on his side creases with his movement, you wrap your right hand around his left wrist.

“Careful,” you chide.

“I’m being careful,” he assures you softly. “I’ve thought about this.”

You nod, unable to speak in the proximity but unsure what he’s doing. Rick stops when he’s sitting upright, your hands pressed between your stomach and his sternum. Tilting his chin up, Rick releases your hands to hold your jaw. Your eyes flutter closed as he brushes his finger under your bottom lip, directing your face toward his.

“Rick,” you whisper. He matches your tone to say your name, then kisses you before you can say anything more.

With your hands light on his shoulders, you kiss Rick O’Connell. Mindful of his injuries, you let him decide what happens, how far you go, and how fast you move. The kiss is slow, languid, full of unspoken words and explanations for why he found you so many times to crack jokes and leave you breathless. Rick cares about you, just as you care about him.

When he pulls back, brushing his thumb against your jaw and the side of your neck, you open your eyes and look at him.

“You really shouldn’t be here,” you remind him.

Rick smiles, lowering his hand to run over your exposed shoulder, barely covered by the sleeveless pajama top that matches your loose pants.

“Oh, I know,” he murmurs as he leans in again, convinced that you’re better pain medicine than anything doctors have ever created.

[likebatsoutofhell]

happy actual halloween 🧻

[peoplesgraves]

Omg Yandere Deuce and Cleo with Succubus reader! Like Deuce sees them and Cleo knows, she sees how adding you along with them would be good. Also their just so pretty that she cant help but imagine how the three of you would be as a couple!

Yandere Deuce X Succubus Reader X Yandere Cleo Headcanons

•Deuce notices you first. Despite the instant heart eyes swimming behind his glasses, he doesn’t even acknowledge you. Too afraid of Cleo’s potential wrath, she’d nearly ripped his snakes off in the past from jealousy and Deuce still had nightmares. What he’d forgotten however was just how perceptive Cleo truly way. She immediately pinpoints the object of his runaway curiosity and is just as, if not more, entranced with you than him.

•Cleo is taken by you right away, the way you move even the way you speak ooze a playful confidence. You walk through the halls like royalty and it already has Cleo imagining you in more traditional attire and ruling over the masses together. With matching outfits,rings and an adoring public.

•When the pair approach you Cleos usual arrogance is replaced by the babbling of a girl in love. Deuce is awkward in his own way but still far more understandable than his girlfriend. Luckily you find their nerves cute and from then on it’s the three of you.

•Out of the two Cleo is definitely more in charge. Cleo uses her money to plan lavish dates and give you unlimited spa treatments and shopping sprees. Cleo loves to take the three of you shopping multiple times a week and every single time you come out with more bags than you can carry, you’d even had to start using a spare room at Cleo’s to store things. Should you start to feel bad Cleo is quick to nip it in the bud, you deserve everything she can give you and more.

•Deuce is just happy to be along for the ride. He loves getting to spend hours watching you try on clothes or carry your million shopping bags through the mall. He doesn’t care what you guys do as long as he gets to be with his girls.

•While Cleo loves a nice expensive gift from Deuce and vice verse, should you buy them something they’ll both feel bad. Cleo because she has basically unlimited money, she’s supposed to take care of you not the other way around. Deuce because he feels bad that you feel the need to buy him things. Hell cherish the gift but tries to explain that it’s really not necessary. Both prefer handmade gifts because they’re just so much more special. Make them matching bracelets or a mug and they will both cry over it.

•Rarely are the three of you not together, the relationship just doesn’t feel complete without you in the middle. Should Cleo’s family or anyone else question your relationship then all hell breaks loose. Deuce is holding his hands over your ears and pulling you into his chest while Cleo rips the offender a new one. Cleo and Deuces shared love for you had only strengthened their love for each other and they wouldn’t let anyone make you feel bad about it.