#(i did have to use one the time i kind of shattered my leg but that was a good while ago) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

honeyhotteoks · 25 days ago

Text

across stardust - two (j.yh); section two

summary: you and yunho have worked together for years, idol and makeup artist, but until today you’ve never touched him skin to skin. when the world tilts on its head from just a brush of his cheek, you realize he’s so much more than a crush, he’s your soulmate.one | two (section 1); (*section two) | three | four 🔗read on ao3 ✨across stardust pinterest board

note: i hope everyone enjoys this chapter. it's wildly fluffy and wildly romantic, and then deliciously smutty so i hope everyone enjoys. **this part was too long for tumblr's new word count guidelines! please check out the FIRST half of this part, here!

tags/warnings: idol!yunho, makeup artist!reader, fem!reader, soulmates au, soulmate identifying marks, soulmate tattoos, tattoed!reader, suggestive language, allusions to a past ex who pressured her into things she wasn't ready for, anxiety etc., and finally the smut; heavy makeouts, grinding, oral f!receiving, convos about oral m!receiving, lots of fingering, lots of cock touching, earth shattering soulmate sex, rough sex, soft!dom/pleasure!dom yunho and wide eyed sub!reader, heavy on the dirty talk, HEAVY on the praise. we got a lot of good girls in this one, and good god tagging for gratuitous use of pet names from yunho. lots of missionary and missionary adjacent positions, spooning sex to idk he's on his back and she's on top but laying on him it's hard to describe but by god is it hot please enjoy

pairings: yunho x reader

genre: fantasy, romance, smut || soulmates au

word count: 28.1k

**did you read section one of part two yet? if not, click here!!

Slowly, ever so slowly, the hazy cloud starts to lift. You’re both still shaking, Yunho hiding in your shoulder, his lips brushing against your pulsepoint as he comes back down from his high. Your fingers are locked tightly on his back still, legs pinning him to your pelvis, and it takes time for you to breathe through the last bits of dizziness and start to feel some kind of normal again.

Finally you feel him exhale out an intentional breath and kiss your shoulder before pressing up on his forearms to look down at you, “Am I crushing you?” He lifts a bit of his body weight off, but you keep your arms locked.

“Don’t go,” You say, holding him steady.

He smiles dreamily, and shakes his head, “Not going anywhere,”

Your legs fall slack on either side of him and you let your hands slide down to rest on his chest, “Good,”

His eyes flick down over your bodies, to where you’re still connected hip to hip and with the fog of your newly cemented bond lifted, you feel a pang of his concern, “Did I hurt you?”

You shake your head, smoothing your hand over his chest, “Mm-mm,”

“You sure?” He takes one of your hands in his and gently kisses your knuckles.

“You would have felt it if you did,” You remind him, “looks like we were right, we really were made for each other,”

He rolls his eyes and smiles at your soft teasing, “Uh-huh,”

You thread your fingers with his and tug him back down to where you rest in the pillows, kissing him as you do, “Mm,” you sigh, “do you think it will feel like that every time?”

“If it does,” He laughs, “I’ll never make it out of this bed, I better resign now,”

You nudge him, “Not funny,”

“It’s a little funny,” He kisses you again, “but maybe I should, just keep you right here on my cock all day,”

You shiver at his words, “And I’m the tease,”

He laughs a little but squeezes your hand, “If it feels like that every time, I’m not teasing,”

Your stomach flips pleasantly at his words, “Well,” your fingers skate down his chest, “we do have three days,”

“That’s true,” He murmurs, his brow quirking playfully as he pecks a kiss to your lips, “do you have any objections to me keeping you right here?”

You shake your head, “We’ll have to eat at some point, though,”

“I’m pretty sure we can manage having sex in the kitchen,” He nips at your lip.

“My kitchen’s pretty small,”

“I’m very creative,” He counters, his kisses traveling down your jaw now.

You sigh, breathy as his tongue catches on your throat, “W-where else?”

He huffs a laugh, “Shower,”

“Of course,”

“Couch,” His teeth tug gently at your earlobe and your muscles flutter and clench. Yunho groans lightly, and you feel his cock start to stiffen up inside you again.

“And then?” Unconsciously, your legs start to widen just a little more.

“The wall,” His voice is low and warm in your ear, “how see-through is that window, anyways?”

Your eyes roll and you twitch under him, fingers tightening on his skin, “It’s reflective glass, you c-can’t see through it,”

Yunho hums pleasantly, sucking at the pulsepoint of your neck and sending a shock of heat down your body, and you feel him start to stiffen up inside you again. A little breathy sound bubbles from your lips, and his hips grind down into yours just a little. His jaw tightens, muscles tense, and you feel him rock hard again and pressing insistently at all your sweet spots.

“A-again?” You shiver.

“Baby,” He sighs and chuckles, “all night,”

Part of you thinks he’s kidding about that, but with that look in his eyes you know he’s more than serious.

“Usually I’d need a little bit,” He admits, shifting up to his knees and dragging his hands down your body, “but you make me crazy,”

You nod, moaning as his cock shifts inside you with the position change. Nothing has ever filled you like this, felt like this. The stretch is delicious, the way he seems to reach the tenderest places in your cunt that makes you see stars. The dizziness from the bonding a moment ago has dissipated, but the searing heat is still there, and you shiver, his fingertips skating over your tattoo before his hands find a home on your hips.

“What do you say, baby? Can you take me again?” His hips pulse slowly, a torturous drag in and out to tease you.

“Fuck yes,” You moan, one hand flying up to the wall behind you to brace yourself.

“God, you sound pretty,” He pulses his hips again, punching a surprised moan from your throat, “exactly like that, I’m addicted to that sound.”

He’s so verbal now that you’re not both swimming in the sensation of your newly forged bond, that night on the phone really was just a glimpse into who your partner is behind closed doors, his idol persona left on the concert hall floor.

”J-just like that,” You nod, gripping the sheets.

“Like that?” He teases, dragging you down onto his cock with his hands on your hips, “Yeah?”

You moan again, “Harder,”

“Fuck,” He curses, hands tight, sure to bruise, “we’re going to be so good together, aren’t we?”

Before you can respond, he answers your plea with his hips, picking up the pace so that each pulse forward is met with the drag down of your body, connecting your bodies with firm, sharp snaps, the sound wet and wanton.

“Y-yes, yes,” You all but sob, pleasure arcing through your belly and a fresh sheen of sweat breaking over your brow.

Yunho groans, roughly fucking into you in just the way you needed, his body slick with sweat and glistening in the low light, his muscles flexing and relaxing with every snap of his hips.

His mouth falls open, thumbs digging into your belly where he grips your waist, “Fuck, baby, you’re so tight,”

Your cunt clenches, “You feel so good,”

“That’s my good girl,” He breathes, his eyes hazy and lips parted as he watches you coming apart beneath him.

You moan hard at the praise, your belly fluttering and clenching at the memory of how he talked to you that first time. You’ve thought of it dozens of times, desperate for exactly this, “Yes,” you whine, “I love when you call me that. Love when you talk to me like that,”

Yunho shudders, his hips stuttering in pace and he groans, “Yeah?”

“Don’t stop,” You reach for him, nails brushing over his skin as you try to get your hands on him.

“Not stopping,” He assures you, but his hips do slow as he says, “what else do you like, hmm?”

You can feel his curiosity, and his arousal too, the way he wants to know every button that makes you tick. Your slick channel pulses around his cock and you sigh in the sheets, “What do you think I like?”

A half smile quirks his lips and he slows his pace to a stop, “Are you trying to tease me?”

Your cheeks heat, caught under the exactness of his gaze and the rolling ripple of arousal through your body.

“Cute,” He murmurs again, but he rolls his hips once hard to make you moan, “so pretty when you moan for me,”

“God,” You have to pull your eyes away.

“Don’t be embarrassed,” He brushes your hips with gentler hands.

“I’m not,” You drop a hand over your face.

“You’re blushing, baby,” His fingers loop under yours and pull your hand away from your eyes.

“Don’t pretend it doesn’t turn you on,” You counter, “I can feel you,”

“Oh?” He quirks a brow, rolling his hips, “You can feel me?”

“Shut up,” You groan, flutters rolling through your abdomen.

“Let’s see if I can make you really embarrassed, hmm?”

“Yunho,” You manage, but you’re caught under him, the press of his hips and the firm pressure of his hands.

”You’re mine, right?” His fingers skate over your body as he adjusts himself onto his knees between your splayed open thighs, “You trust me?”

Anticipation buzzes inside you, your mouth running dry. In this position you’re completely exposed, his eyes raking over your every inch, and when his tongue darts out to wet his lips with his tongue, your breath quickens

“Do you?” He prompts softly.

“Y-yes,”

He smirks a little, and then he settles on his heels and squeezes your thighs, “You like when I grab you,” he says, “I can feel your little jolt of excitement every time I do this.” He squeezes again for good measure, and just like he said your stomach jumps.

“You’re my soulmate,” You sigh, “of course I like it when you touch me,”

“Mm,” He nods, his hands skating up your skin until he’s cupping your breasts, “fair, how about this?”

You soften, “That’s nice,”

“And this?” He squeezes a little and you swallow to keep your composure, but when he finds both your nipples with his thumb and forefinger to give them a gentle pinch, you pant, “This?”

He watches your eyes go glassy, and you’re sure he can feel the liquid fire pooling in your belly.

He pinches them again, this time adding a little more pressure and tugging them upwards a bit before he releases.

You moan sharply, fingers locking down on the bedding beneath you at the sharp zing that passed from your chest to your achingly neglected clit.

“Is that nice, baby?” He tugs again, “Or am I being too rough with you?”

He’s teasing you, and you shiver, “Not too rough,”

The muscle in his jaw tightens but he lets that pass, cataloguing it and moving on, “And I think we’ve already established you like my hands,”

“No surprise there,” You sigh.

“My fingers?” He slides his hands up, and your heart starts to beat faster in your chest. Yunho settles one broad hand at the base of your throat, his fingers circling your neck gently. He doesn’t apply any pressure, but the way his thumb and index finger brace each side of your jaw has you trembling in his hold.

You swallow, throat bobbing against his palm.

“You do,” He murmurs, his voice a little rougher. With his opposite hand, he ever so gently touches your lips with the pads of his fingers, and like you’ve done it for him a thousand times before you let your mouth fall open.

He drags his fingers over the curve of your lower lip again, and your cunt spasms around his cock where it's still buried inside you. He smiles at your reaction and then he hooks two of his fingers over your lip, resting on your teeth.

You gasp sharply, your tongue pressing against the pads of his fingers.

He waits, his patience a challenge, and then you melt. You dip your head forwards to accept his fingers into your mouth, letting them slide back on your tongue, your lips closing around them so that when you drag your head back you can suck them just a little.

You can taste yourself on his skin and he groans, “Good girl,”

Your core clenches again, but as his fingers slip free from your mouth you pulse your muscles again to tease him this time, “You’re easier to read than you think,” you tell him, “I know what you like too.”

He smiles, full of cheek, and shifts back to roll his hips, “Yeah?” He slides his hand down, spreading it wide over your belly, “I like being inside you,”

“You like,” You start but he shakes his head.

”I like being buried so deep I can feel it here,” He presses down with the heel of his hand and thrusts forwards, driving his cock into you, and the tight sensation of his cockhead punching into your g-spot leaves you moaning, all teasing forgotten at the sudden sensation of pleasure at his hands.

Yunho drops over you properly now, gathering you back into his arms and pushing your legs back open wide with a tilt of your hips. He kisses you hard and then his hips start to pulse, “I like knowing this little pussy belongs to me,”

“Oh, fuck,” You grip down hard on his shoulders.

“That’s it,” He tips you back, rolling into you, “open up for me,”

You moan hard, arching into him.

“Fuck,” He curses low in your ear, “sweetheart, you feel incredible,”

You nod into his shoulder, “S-so do you, don’t stop,”

“The best thing I’ve ever felt in my life” He manages.

“Yunho, god,”

“That’s right,” He slips a hand under our leg, sliding up the back of your thigh to pin you open, “so good,”

Hot need arcs up your spine, belly tight with burgeoning pleasure, and you shudder a broken sob into his skin, “Please, please,”

He thrusts hard, groaning with every jut of his hips, “Fuck,” he pants, “you want to know what I really like?”

“Yes, yes,”

”I like you like this,” His kisses travel over your slick skin, “messy, begging for me,”

“For you,” You babble almost mindlessly.

“I like you coming,” He moans, “I could watch you come forever,”

“Fuck, god,” Your head falls back to the mattress.

“I want to make you lose yourself,” His pace steadies, and he drops his hand from your leg to the sheets for better leverage, “I want to watch you go so cockdrunk you don’t even know what sounds you’re making, how loud you’re being for me,”

“Yunho, oh my god,” Your moan is rough, deep in your chest.

He drops his forehead to your hair and nods, “Exactly like that,”

Your body is starting to move on its own, your thighs trembling, and your hips canting upwards to catch more friction on your clit as he fucks you, and you whine in heady need.

In a flash, his hips lock down hard, your body arching into his chest as you start to see the bursts of color behind your tightly shut eyes, but he doesn’t stop moving. Yunho grinds down, rocking his hips to give you extra pressure, and with needy jerks of your body you hump artlessly up into him, pleasure rolling up from your clit as he cock sits heavy and thick inside you.

His lips connect with your ear as he drops his body weight over you, hands gathering you close, “That’s it, greedy girl,”

Sparks roll up your spine and you moan into his shoulder.

“That’s it,” His hand slips down and cups your ass as you shudder, “take it, take it,”

You gasp sharply, nails digging into his shoulders, “Oh, god, oh fuck,”

“There she is,” He says hot at your cheek, his face leaving heavily against yours, “there’s my girl,”

You moan, and he circles his hips, grinding deeper.

“You like taking every inch of me, baby?” He flicks your nipple sharply, “You like knowing you were made for me?”

Your orgasm feels like it’s a breath away, ready to pull you open in a snap, and you sob beneath him, “M-more,” your head falls back as you scramble beneath him, heels digging into the mattress as you arch and try to bring yourself up and over the edge.

“Come for me,” He kisses you, wet, fast, “come on babygirl,”

“Ah, ah,” You press your eyes tight, holding him like a lifeline as you reach for it, “p-please, I want to come for you so bad,”

“That’s it,”

The pressure in your body builds, but you can’t reach it, and you ache to push your hands between your thighs. In a flash, his hands pulse on your skin, and he kisses you once more before pushing up and away from your body and drawing his cock halfway out of your aching center.

“No, no,” You reach for him, eyes fluttering open in the hazy dim.

On his knees once again he starts to rub your clit, his thumb pressing firm circles, the slick sound of it making your eyes roll back.

“God,” You curse, a ripple of pleasure running through you like a spasm.

He licks his lips, watching your face intently as he works your swollen bud, “Yeah? Do you need this to come?”

The husky tone of his voice makes it sound like dirty talk, but you know he’s also asking for real, learning your body for the first time. You nod, “Usually, but, it’s not,”

“Shh,” He pulls back, sliding his cock out of your wet warmth and kissing your knee before letting your legs fall slack to the mattress and shifting to your side, “I want to give you what you need,”

“You are,” You tell him as he kisses you, nuzzling into you.

“I can feel it,” He reminds you as he slides behind you, spooning you now and caging you in with his arms, “I know what you need, let me give it to you,”

You shudder, melting as his hands slide over your body, “Mm,” you sigh, “I was j-just going to say I don’t think I need it with you,”

“But it’s better?” He asks, lifting your leg and hooking a hand under your knee.

You angle your hips with an arch of your back, opening yourself to him, and gasp as he directs his cock back into your slick hole, “N-no,” You manage, “I don’t know,”

He kisses your shoulder, “Let’s find out,”

With a swift punch of his hips forwards he seats himself again and you moan, gripping down on the pillow under your cheek.

“There we go,” He croons and you moan into his bicep. He hums, fingers teasing your slit as he pushes in and out, “is it better because I’m bigger?”

“Yunho!” You gasp as he thrusts again, head falling back against the top of his chest.

“Do I hit your sweet spots, jagi?” His voice is hoarse with his own need.

“Yes, god,” You moan.

“Tell me,” His middle finger finds your clit again, “say it,”

You babble a response through a taut moan, “You’re so big,”

“And?” He bites down on your shoulder, rubbing faster.

“You’re the,” You gasp as his hips punch back and forth sharply, “oh, fuck, yes, you’re the biggest cock I’ve ever had,”

“Good girl,” He moans, “that’s my good girl,”

Hot pleasure rolls through you at his words and you whine.

“Feels good?” He teases.

“So good,” You manage, “so, so good,”

“Let go,” He kisses your cheek, gritting his teeth to focus on working you with his fingers an the steady pulse of his hips at the same time, “let it go and come,”

Your hand flies to his forearm, gripping onto him as you cry out, and he pants behind you, kissing any part of your skin he can reach in this position.

“Good girl,” He murmurs low, “just hold onto me,”

He slides his other hand from your knee to your hip to brace you steady and then he starts to adjust the pace of his hips, still slow, but firmer now so that every snap of his hips strikes a wet smacking drumbeat through the room as he circles his fingers on your slick clit.

Heat rockets through you, your nails digging into his forearm, and then you feel it. Just a little more will take you right over the edge, and you choke out a breathless moan, “Please, please,”

“Come,”

Your stomach tightens, legs trembling, and when it hits you crack open in his arms. The wave takes you just the same as before, and distantly through the ringing in your ears, you can hear the muttered pleas of Yunho as he feels the rush of your pleasure through the bond.

You’re boneless, both of you shaking, and then he wraps his arms around you properly and rolls onto his back, your body laid prone across his chest. His cock stays deep inside your pulsing core as you turn, but with a hiss he jerks his hips back and pulls out.

“Baby, oh my god,” Your chest is heaving, and you reach back for him, finding his cheek.

He’s quiet, shuddering beneath you.

“You didn’t come?” You manage, still breathless.

He shakes his head against yours, “Don’t want this to end too soon,”

“We have days,” You tell him, “now please, I want you to feel good,”

His hands tighten on your hips as he weighs your words, and then with a slow shift of his hips you feel his cock start to press at your entrance again. He slips home with ease, and you moan at the sudden stretch of him again, his cock thick and pulsing with his almost orgasm.

“I,” He pulses his hips once and groans, “oh, I’m not going to last,”

“Don’t stop,” You urge him again, “please, just take me,”

He moans, his stomach tightening, and then he starts to move.

He’s pumping in and out of you now, pinning your back to his chest with his arms banded around you as he rolls his hips and you can feel the tether in him start to fray. He’s getting close, but even without the bond you’d know it. His breath is thready, a hot pant against your ear, and your bodies slide together with slick sweat.

He feels unreal, stretching you wide with every rhythmic stroke, but you feel his heart hammer when your legs start to fall closed, your walls tightening around him.

“You’re mine,” He breathes, “s-so beautiful for me,”

“All yours,” You sigh, and this time with intention you draw your thighs tight together.

The position is tangled, muscle straining and almost an accident, but suddenly his cock has never felt bigger or thicker or perfectly positioned to hit that spot again and again. He groans, and holds your hips firmly to bounce you back down into every thrust as he chases his release.

Your head falls back over his shoulder, and you reach up to brace yourself on the wall behind your heads, your other hand still cupping his cheek and holding his face to yours.

“Shit,” He curses, “so tight, fuck, babygirl,”

You moan, “Please, yes, yes,”

“So tight and,” he babbles against your cheek, “fuck, still taking every inch of me,”

“So deep,” You gasp as his pace increases, and your eyes slam shut, a bubbling snap of pleasure rolling up your spine.

”God, I’m,” He shudders, moaning in earnest now, “b-baby, I’m close,”

You feel his need, suddenly striking you through the unmasked connection of the bond, and though he doesn’t ask you for anything, beg you at all, you know exactly what to give him.

You moan, arching your back to take his cock inside just a little more with every stroke, “Yunho,” your fingers lace into his hair and you turn your head to find his ear, “come,”

He huffs, fingers pressing bruises into your hips.

”I’m all yours,” You tell him, voice husky, “this pussy is all yours, all yours,”

“Mine,” His hips snap harder, a punishing pace, and you feel the taut edge of his pleasure.

“Made for your cock, baby,”

“Fuck,”

“No one’s ever fucked me like this,” You pant, knowing exactly what your words will do to him.

He groans, burying his face in your shoulder.

”C-come inside me,” You beg, “make me yours,”

His teeth sink into your shoulder, his hips erratic, “Mine, mine,”

“Yes, baby, please,” You rock your hips, taking over the rolling motion where he’s started to falter.

“I’m,” His words are cut off with a groan, and his hips slam up twice more before he holds himself in deep and you feel the hot sensation of his cum pumping inside you.

His orgasm yanks you down into your own in an unexpected flash of sensation, your vision fuzzy, head dizzy, and your body jerks in ecstatic fits and starts as you moan, wanton and wordless in his ear.

“One more,” He murmurs, recovering from his own heady orgasm faster than you, his hand pushing between your locked thighs, middle finger circling on your pulsing clit, “just one more,”

Your hips jerk with overstimulation and you whine, “I can’t,”

”Yes,” He kisses your forehead, bracing your body with one and while his other blissfully tortures your aching cunt, “come on, sweetheart,”

“Yunho, oh, oh, God,” Your orgasm stretches, his fingers cresting you straight up into another shuddering peak.

His body curls around you, dipping to the side when you jerk, holding you into his chest as he works you through it. The sound of his tender voice carries you up, “There we go,” he croons, “oh, god I love you,”

“C-Coming,” Is all you can manage, and your body folds in on itself, your orgasm white hot and almost painful.

He shudders as he feels you finish, and slows his fingers, “Good girl, come. I love you so much, can you feel me inside you, baby?”

You manage a nod, moaning into the sheets, riding it out with rocks of your hips until it turns from pleasure to sharp overstimulation and you whine, pushing his hand away.

“I got you,” He wraps you up tight, spooning you from behind, “shh, you’re okay,”

Trembling, you pull his arms to your chest, using him as your anchor as he shifts his hips and finally uncouples your bodies.

“You’re okay,” He repeats, “just breathe,” He kisses your hair softly, soothing you with gentle touches as your breath returns.

“M-mhm,”

”You’re perfect,” His lips travel to your shoulder, “I love you,”

“I love you too,” You murmur, resting your lips on his knuckles.

“Love you, love you,” He mutters against your skin, and you sink into him, a contented smile on your lips.

You lay wrapped up together for what feels like hours, both of you coming back into your bodies slowly. His arms slacken, and you slowly roll onto your front, cheek against the cool sheets as you recover from the whirlwind of bonding.

He murmurs sweetness against your spine, massages circles into your hips, and little by little your mind reconnects too.

Yunho sidles down in the bed, cuddling you from behind, “Are you hungry, sweetheart?”

You shake your head a little but you say, “Maybe a little,”

“Let’s go downstairs, I’ll fix you something,” He says, even though it’s your apartment.

You smile and shake your head again, “Five more minutes?”

He kisses your shoulder and you feel him nod, “Five more minutes,”

Cocooned in his warmth, and in the perfection of your bed, you let yourself relax.

More than five minutes have come and gone when he finally speaks again. Yunho’s fingers skate up and down your spine, slowly tracing each vertebrae like he’s making a mental map of you, “When did you get your first one?”

“Hmm?” You sigh, looking slightly over your shoulder at him.

“Tattoo,” He clarifies, now ghosting his touch over the large crane on your back, “you have so many, but when did you start?”

You stretch in the sheets, and roll towards him, shifting onto your back now and twisting your arm to show him the delicate lines of your first tattoo, English script in faded black. desire.

He passes the pad of his thumb over the lettering and the corner of his mouth quirks up.

“Not because of the song,” You laugh softly, “I was seventeen,”

“Hmm,” He lets his fingers travel up, studying more of your lines of ink, “young,”

He traces the lines of the flowers, the fan, the stippled black and gray twisting across your skin.

“I know,” You tug the sheet up a little higher, tucking it around your naked body to ward off some of the chill of your apartment, “I just wanted to do something reckless for once, but then once I started,”

He nods, listening, waiting for more.

“I think I wanted to get under my parent's skin,” You admit, “they were already so disappointed in me, so I thought why not give them something to be really disappointed in?”

He frowns a little, a crease between his brows, “I hate that you felt like that,”

“I’m okay now,” You promise him, “Hana and I rarely see them, just holidays and phone calls on birthdays, that kind of thing.”

He nods, pressing a kiss to your hair, “Still,”

You give him a tiny shrug, and you find yourself reaching up to your soul mark and brushing it, “For a while I was just running, from them and then from this,”

“Your mark?” He asks softly.

You nod, “It was a reminder of that house, of how much they didn’t believe in it. They never even wanted Hana and I to daydream about it, to wonder what it would be like to find our soulmate. They were so set on us following the path they laid out, and for a long time the mark was a reminder of what I wasn’t supposed to want.”

He swallows tightly, and you feel his discomfort at your words, the flicker of anger in his gut.

“I’m alright,” You continue, “but the tattoos started like that. First something to provoke them, and then something to distract myself from seeing this. I thought about covering it, but,”

“You did?” His eyes widen.

“I considered it,” You tuck your hand in his and give him a squeeze, “but then I realized that the farther I got from believing this could happen for me, the closer I got to what they wanted all along,”

He studies your expression for a moment and then scoots closer, tucking your bodies together and cupping your cheek, “When did you start believing it could happen again?”

You remember it so clearly, the pact you made with Iseul, the lines you wrote in your journal that year. You smile and look up at him, “When I got the job at KQ, Iseul and I went out for celebratory drinks when I received the offer letter,”

His expression softens, his thumb brushing along your cheekbone.

”I decided it was time to grow up,” You explain, “so we agreed that we would date, have fun, and keep looking for the one, but we’d never settle down for less than our soulmate, no matter how long it took to find them.”

Yunho dips towards you, kissing you tenderly, “I love you,”

Tucking into his chest you nod, “I love you too,”

His arms loop around you, cuddling you so that you’re nestled into his warmth, “For what it’s worth,” he murmurs, his fingers carding through your hair, “however you came to them, they’re beautiful, you’re beautiful,”

A brief flicker of tears pricks the back of your eyes and you press a kiss to his sternum, “Thank you,” you kiss him again, “I love them now, and now I get them for myself,”

He hums, nodding with his lips on the crown of your head, nuzzling you gently.

For a moment it’s quiet, just your heart and his beating in time against each other, but then your stomach tightens as you realize something you’ve been neglecting.

You sigh heavily, “I need to call Hana,”

“You haven’t told her?” He asks, despite already knowing the answer.

“No, have you told your brother?”

His hand stills on your back, “I texted him,”

Your eyebrows raise, “You texted him?”

He nods, “Is that alright?”

“Of course,” You say in a rush, “I just, I don’t know, I’m surprised.”

“We don’t see each other often,” Yunho says, “but we’re close. It felt strange not telling him something this big in my life,”

You nod, “Exactly.”

He brushes a hand up and down the length of your back again and then starts to untangle his body from yours, “How about this, can I use your shower?”

“Sure,” You’re about to tell him where it is, all the little quirks, but he keeps going.

”After, I’ll run back to my place and pick up things for the next few days,” You strangely hate the idea of him leaving, but you know that was always part of the plan considering he didn’t bring anything with him, “while I’m busy give her a call,”

”It’s late,” You find yourself protesting.

He smiles, “It’s not, you’re nervous,”

You rub at your chest, feeling the curl of anxiety there, “Yeah,”

“She loves you,” Yunho reminds you as he pulls himself out of bed, “and she knows what having a soulmate feels like, she’s going to be so happy for you, for us.”

“You’re right,” You breathe.

“I know you miss her,” He adds softly, “and I know you want to tell her, let me give you the space to do that.”

Warmth expands in your chest and all you can do is nod.

He smiles wide, pressing a kiss to your forehead and then he stretches, “Alright, shower’s this way?” Yunho nods towards the obvious path towards the bathroom.

You nod again, and he sighs, “Perfect,”

He disappears down the hall and for a brief moment you’re alone with your thoughts. You let your gaze go unfocused towards the ceiling, and you just feel for a moment. You feel different, lighter and heavier at the same time, like all the cells in your body turned over at once, but the knotted rope between you and him feels thicker, corded, braided, unbreakably sure.

For the first time in weeks, all of a sudden, you feel like you can call her.

You rub your chest again, rolling out of bed and making your way across the lofted bedroom on slightly shaky legs before finding your robe on its familiar hook and wrapping it around yourself, a smooth silk in floral and dark red. With a deep breath, you pin up your hair and find your phone. The sound of running water comes through the bathroom door, so you make your way downstairs for a bit of privacy and to get a cool glass of water. Once you’re tucked into the familiar corner of your couch with a downy blanket over your lower half, you find Hana’s contact in your phone and you call.

She picks up after a few rings, “Hello?”

“Hey,”

“Was your flight delayed?” She asks, her bright voice soothing you instantly, “You always call me when you get in,”

“It wasn’t delayed,” You tell her honestly.

“Ah,” She says, “did you crash immediately? Take a crazy nap? You know that will fuck with adjusting back to the time zone,”

“Hana,” You sigh, and all at once you wish he was next to you.

“I know, I know,” She makes a sound, tongue against teeth, “I’m just saying,”

“I didn’t sleep, or I mean, I did on the plane,”

“That’s good,” You hear glasses clinking on her side of the line.

“What are you up to, am I interrupting?” You ask.

“Hmm?” She says as if she didn’t hear you, and then corrects, “No, sorry, nothing really just some chores,”

“Oh, good, I thought it might be too late to call,” You admit.

“It’s only nine,” Hana says and you can practically picture her eye roll.

Upstairs the sound of your shower taps turning off draws your attention and your eyes flick up to the landing.

“So, your flight was okay?” Your sister’s voice in your ear brings you back to the present and you nod.

“Yeah, listen,”

“Oh,” She cuts you off, “Em wants to know how you liked Paris, you didn’t post anything on Instagram she was devastated,”

Em, Emmanuelle, Hana’s wife and your sister-in-law, born in Korea but half French on her mother’s side, who spent every summer in Lyon. Of course she would want to know how your first trip to France was, and your head was so wrapped up in Yunho you didn’t even think to text her.

“I loved it,” You tell your sister honestly, “so much, I’ll send you both some pictures as soon as,”

“You better,” Hana interjects again, “Em’s right here she’s asking if you had time to see the city?”

“A little, but, Hana,”

The door upstairs opens, and Yunho quietly pads back to your lofted bedroom, one of your white towels slung low around his hips. His hair is wet, mussed from rubbing a towel through it, his chest pink from the hot water and steam. Just seeing him makes you feel at ease, and he meets your eyes, “You okay?” He whispers.

You nod, and he searches for his clothes strewn all over the floor of your bedroom.

“Hana, what?” Your sister prompts, and you realize it’s not the first time she’s said it, “y/n, are you okay? You sound weird,”

Suddenly, you’re deep in a memory. Hana’s tear streaked face in the hallway of your first apartment, a backpack on her shoulder and a defiant jut to her chin. Sixteen years old and standing her ground more firmly than you ever had in your life up to that point, the strength in her voice when she told you she found her soulmate and she wasn’t going to give her up.

“y/n?” Hana says again, concern laced through her voice.

You find Yunho on the landing, watching as he rubs a towel over his hair again, and the words finally tumble out, “I found him,”

“You, what?” She asks, confused.

“Hana,” His eyes flick to yours and you find yourself smiling, blush creeping back into your cheeks, “I found him,”

The penny drops, “Oh my god,”

”I know,” You reply, and Yunho grins, watching you from the landing.

“Oh my god?” Hana all but shrieks and you laugh as she reacts, calling to Emmanuelle, voice muffled briefly as she shifts the phone.

“I know,” You manage.

“Is he French?” Hana babbles, “That would be insane, that would be crazy if both of us,”

You duck your head in laughter, “What? No, no he’s not French,”

“What countries were you in? How the hell did you bump into him - abroad of all places, that’s why it took so long, that’s what I was always saying,” She rambles a mile a minute, and it’s always so hard to slow her down once she gets going, barely taking a breath between sentences.

“Hana,” You cover your mouth with your hand, “Hana, he’s not foreign, he’s Korean,”

Yunho’s still smiling as he comes down the stairs, but he’s not dressed to leave, he’s dressed comfortably in just his t-shirt and his boxer briefs. Relief fills you with the knowledge that he’s not about to leave, and he watches you quietly as you try to navigate your sister as she jumps from conclusion to conclusion.

“That’s even crazier,” She says, “how the hell did you bump into another Korean outside of Korea while you were working constantly?”

“Let her tell the story,” You hear Em’s voice in the background.

“Am I on speaker?” You laugh.

“You are now,” Em replies this time, “hi, y/n,”

“Hey Emmie,”

“I have your sister restrained,” She says, but you hear an irritated huff from Hana, “now, tell us what’s going on and this time Hana’s going to listen,”

“Shut up,” Hana gripes quietly, with no real malice.

“You love me,”

“Yeah, yeah,” Hana says, “alright, I’m sorry, I’m listening,”

Yunho waits patiently, but the moment you reach for him, he crosses from the foot of your stairs to your place on the couch. He had felt it, how much you needed him here, that much you’re sure of when he twines your fingers together. With his touch as a tether, you finally tell them, “I didn’t bump into someone random, and you cannot say ‘I told you so’,” you start off, “but, it’s Yunho. My soulmate is Yunho,”

There’s a sharp intake of breath on the other side of the call. Hana is rarely stunned silent, but you wait. She knows the group well, from her teasing when you first started there all the way through listening to you tell her stories about work. There’s no doubt in your mind that she remembers your quietly guarded crush.

“Is he treating you well?” She finally asks, emotion thread in her voice.

“Yes,” You breathe.

“And you love him?”

“Yes,”

She pauses, “And he,”

“Yes, Hana,” You roll your eyes, but feel the rush of tears, “obviously,”

Yunho brushes his thumb over your knuckles and gives you a squeeze.

“God,” Hana says with a little gasp, “you’re bonded already, aren’t you?”

You slide a little to the right to get closer to him, “We are,” you confess.

For a moment you brace yourself, nervous at her reaction to not being told sooner, especially after everything you’ve been through together. At the anxious tumble of your stomach, Yunho separates your hands and reaches around to pull you into his chest and presses a kiss to your temple.

All your fears disappear in a matter of seconds. Hana laughs sharply and then she’s right back to herself, “Oh my god, I don’t care I have to say it, I told you so.”

You grin, a few tears spilling over, “Hey,”

“When have you ever had a crush that lasted longer than a day?” She exclaims, “I knew it,”

“Hana!” It’s Em who exclaims this time, taking the words right out of your mouth and you fall apart into laughter.

Yunho laughs too, softly against your hair and you blush and cover your cheek with your hand at the knowledge he can hear your sister’s teasing words.

“I’m just saying I knew,”

“God, stop,” You curl into yourself, your face in Yunho’s neck, “you’re embarrassing me,”

“Holy shit,” Hana exclaims, “is he there?”

Yunho slides his hand over your thigh and smoothly shifts you into his lap so he can wrap his arms around you, and you sigh, “Yeah, he’s here,”

“You sound so happy it’s freaking me out,”

“I am happy, Hana,” You confess, “I’m really, really happy.”

She takes a breath and you can hear the emotion caught in her voice too, “When can I come up to Seoul? We’re overdue for a visit,”

“Soon,” You promise her.

“The minute you’re free,” She says, “Em and I will make the time, you just say when,”

“I’ll look,” You nod, relaxing into Yunho’s hold, “but soon, I promise.”

“I want to meet him,” She insists.

“He wants to meet you both too,” You tell them, and Yunho nods against you.

“His schedule must be crazy, but,”

“Han,” Em interrupts, and you can practically see your sister in law calming her wife with gentle hand motions.

“I should go,” You finally say into the phone, “but I miss you,”

Yunho’s hand smooths up and down your back.

“I miss you too, Hani-ya,” You haven’t called her that in years, your beloved little sister who grew up too fast, but the familiar affection slips out of you with ease.

“I love you,” She says, “I’m so happy for you, I’m so,”

You swallow tightly and find Yunho’s hand again, “I know, it’s how I felt when you told me about Em,”

Hana laughs, the sound wet with tears, “Oh my god,” she sniffs and you hear her voice muffled as she scrubs the tears from her cheeks, “I knew we’d both find them, mom and dad were too shitty for us not to be happy now,”

You smile, nodding with your head on Yunho’s shoulder, “That I know for sure,”

There’s a brief moment of silence, both of you collecting your own emotions, and then Hana sighs, “I’m sorry, I’ll let you go, but let us know about coming up.”

”I will,”

“And, y/n,” Your sister says, a mischievous edge back in her voice, “tell him he better take care of you, okay? Tell him to pick you first, okay? Every time,”

Your throat constricts, and Yunho’s lips brush against your forehead. Before you can get your voice back in control to answer her, he does it for you, “Tell her I already have, I will,”

You clear the emotion from your throat, “Did you hear that?”

“Yeah,” Hana manages.

“He’s got me,” You tell her honestly, “I promise,”

Hana takes a breath, “Good,” she sniffles, “now stop talking to me and go get laid or something, if we keep talking I’ll keep crying,”

You laugh a little at your sister’s attempt at deflection, “Yeah, or something,”

“I love you, I’ll see you so soon, okay?” Hana says.

“Soon,” You promise again.

“Bye, unnie,” Em cuts in, affection in her voice, “we are so, so happy for you.”

“Thank you,” You smile, “I’ll send you some pictures of France, I’m so sorry I forgot before,”

“Ah, that’s okay,” Em says warmly, “I think you had better things to focus on,”

Yunho squeezes your hand.

“Take care,” She says, “we’ll see you soon,”

“You too,”

Em ends the call, and you let your phone slip back into your lap, letting out a sigh of relief and exhaustion against him.

Yunho stays quiet for a moment, giving you a second of space, and then he kisses you and leans down to find your eyes, “Baby?”

“Yeah,”

“You okay?” He murmurs.

You nod, pressing your lips to his and sinking into him, “I am,” you reply softly when the kiss breaks, “thank you for staying,”

“I realized I couldn’t go tonight,” He says, “I need to be with you a while longer,”

You squeeze his hand still laced in yours.

Yunho’s eyes are glassy with his own unshed tears, and he swallows and blinks to get himself together before he brings your knuckles to his lips and gives you a tender kiss, “I will, by the way,” he says gently, “pick you first,”

You know what he’s talking about, his life in the public eye and his new life with you behind the scenes. You feel his honesty, his confidence, the truth in his words, and all you can do is shake your head. You never want him in that position, especially after everything he’s worked for, “You won’t have to.”

“But I will,” He promises it to you like a vow, sealing it with a kiss, “I always will.”

“I will too,” You whisper, “I’m not giving this up,”

“You won’t have to,” He echoes, a soft smile on his lips.

His kisses are soft, tender now, and he holds you close as he reminds you of all the ways he loves you. Your quiet apartment cocoons you together, a pause in time just for tonight. Night ticks by and Seoul moves outside, but in each other’s arms you stay still, a stone jetty holding steady in the push and pull of the tide.

#honeyhotteoks fic #honeyhotteoks updates #ateez ff #ateez fic #yunho #jeong yunho #yunho x reader #yunho fic #yunho ff #yunho smut

493 notes · View notes

valerie-is-in-the-cupboard · 3 months ago

Text

Viktor... - Viktor x reader

Arcane Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Words: ~1100 TW: none

"Viktor!" you shouted, but the man never seemed to even consider stopping. "Viktor, wait!" Your desperation was growing stronger with every step, tears slowly blurring your vision.

Was this what he wanted? To disappear? Leaving you behind like you were nothing?

"Did I do something wrong?" your voice echoed as the man you once loved turned away, the dark cloak gracefully falling onto his new body. He wouldn't have even stopped to look at you if it wasn't for Jayce to tell you he was leaving. His body froze, his mind racing with the new sensations he felt. He slowly turned, strands of hair stuck to his forehead.

"No! I have to…" the hurt in his voice obvious. "I'm not…" he hesitated, not sure what to say next. Was he even alive? Was he even human? "I don't even know what I am anymore…"

You cautiously stepped towards him, taking in his features. He was suffering before, you knew that. He lost a lot of weight in the past years… His sickness was getting stronger, day by day, but now… Now he was standing in front of you, on his own legs. Now he was standing taller, the weakness you once saw in him gone.

Your hand pressed against his cheek, but he wasn't met with the warmth he once felt - it was something unusual. Peaceful, but not in a way he was able to understand. It was electrical, mechanical, not human-like. It was like a fire started underneath your palm, but it didn't hurt. His hand hesitantly touched yours, something that resembled a heartbeat seemingly getting stronger. Was it still his heart?

"I know what you are…" you said, the familiar brown eyes looking at you, their softness ever so unchanged.

"I killed Sky…" his voice trembled slightly, your heart skipping a beat. You were the first he ran to when this happened. The first to know everything he never let anyone know. You were the first to see him for who he really was. And now, thinking that you might be afraid of him, it made his body ache in unpleasant, strange ways. "I am murderer…" he eventually continued, his words quieter than they were in those many nights you spent together, hoping not to wake up anyone.

You just now realised the roughness of this new "skin", the coldness in it, a contrast to his gentle touches. Different from the way he used to worship you any chance he got. You were his only reason to continue fighting. His only reason to continue his research - because maybe, one day, your lives will be better. But the roughness was just on the surface... somehow, you could still feel the warmth. The kindness in his soul was as it always has been - unparalleled.

"No…" You softly said, cupping his cheeks. The touch sent a wave of energy coursing through him, not with the intensity of a shock, but with a steady, unyielding pull that reminded him of life itself. It felt like a promise, something soft yet grounding, pulling him back from the edge of despair. “You’re my Viktor…” The words hung in the air between you, their weight settling in the space around you both. Viktor didn’t move at first.

His eyes stayed locked on yours, searching for any trace of doubt, any sign that you might be lying. For a long moment, neither of you spoke. His breath came slower, almost as if he was afraid to exhale, fearful that the fragile connection you had could shatter with a single movement.

Viktor’s forehead found its peace against yours, just as it always did. But this time, there was a tremble in his touch, a hesitant pause before his lips parted to speak again. The gentle pulse of your shared breath seemed to reverberate through your bodies, and for a moment, the world outside of this fragile moment disappeared. You could feel the echo of his heartbeat, faint and distant, but still there, somehow keeping him tethered to you. "And nothing could make me not want to follow you until the end of the time…"

A small smile crept on his face, your words seemingly reassuring him, even if just a little, that maybe he was not as inhuman as he thought he was. "I can't ask you to follow me…" he told you, knowing that it would perhaps mean the end of your life. Knowing that it might bring you more pain than his disappearance would have.

"Of course you don't…" you chuckled. "But I will anyway. I always did as I pleased, right?" the sound of his soft laugh made your heart jump, your ears enlightened as you heard it.

His fingers intertwined with yours, the whole world becoming silent, almost nonexistent. In the stillness of the moment, this touch was a silent understanding, a bond that spoke louder than words ever could. Your souls were connected once again, just as they were always meant to be. Fighting to find each other, fighting to find peace once again and now… fulfilled that they were finally reunited.

"It's not gonna be easy…" he warned, pressing a light kiss on your temple before he moved away, the coldness of his absence making you shiver.

"It's never been… But we managed…"

He smiled and all of the stimulus he felt stopped. Something similar to peace conquered his form now. Something stronger than whatever the Hexcore was doing to him.

You pressed his hand against your chest, the vibrations of your heartbeat resonating through him. You could see his mouth slightly opening in fascination at the intensity of his senses.

"Can you feel it?" you asked. "Can you feel it beating under your touch?"

Viktor’s fingers tightened around your wrist, as if afraid to let go. For a moment, he said nothing. His chest rose and fell in uneven breaths, a mix of disbelief and awe flickering in his expression.

"I can't promise you I'm the same..." he whispered, his voice trembling as if uncertain whether this was real.

Your heart was pounding in your chest, a powerful pain overcoming it at his words. "Whatever IT'll happen, I will face it with you. I know I want this, just please... Please don't push me away." He caressed your cheek, a weak smile on his face as he saw the determination in your eyes. The world became still. It was peaceful now. The past was a distant memory. The future - uncertain.

But the present felt just right.

#arcane #viktor arcane #viktor x reader #viktor #arcane viktor x reader #viktor arcane x reader #viktor x you

586 notes · View notes

tojirights · 1 year ago

Note

Honestly think you're one of the best writers for Alastor in this fandom! Your stuff is always brilliant and the characterisation is perfect!

Had the idea last night: Alastor and reader going multiple rounds, and reader still wanting more and being full of energy but Alastor being absolutely out of it and completely shattered, so he uses his tentacles instead, because what kind of gentleman keeps his lady wanting?

Just an excuse to request tentacle sex with everyone's favourite "deer".

a/n: im gonna be so real with you, im not really sure if the tentacles are like, real apendages or if they're part of his shadow soooo i wrote them as the latter. hope it makes sense!! thank you love :') y'all are too nice 🩷

if there was one thing you weren’t expecting to still have in hell, it was your damn hormonal cycle. you didn’t necessarily have a period, but by god, you swore you still ovulated. it felt even worse than before, the primal need threatened to burn a hole through you. you always felt like a bother to alastor during this week of the month, begging and pleading for him to fuck you for hours. but, alastor never turned you away.

today though, you were especially needy. alastor had already made you cum a handful of times and had cum twice himself. he was exhausted. yet, there you were at the edge of his bed, eyes still filled with lust. “my goodess…” alastor chuckles, shaking his head. “i’m not sure i have much left in the tank, darling.” he cups your cheek, watching tears well up in your eyes. “i-i’m sorry-” he shushes you before you can continue. “did i say anything about stopping? i’d never dream of leaving my lady hanging when she needs me.”

“but…” you frown, watching alastor’s smile turn to smirk. “i have a few tricks up my sleeve, my dear. lay back.” your eyes widen as there’s a flash of green light, followed by five tentacle-like appendages sprout from alastor’s back. “w-what?” adrenaline surges through you as well as a mix of excitement and nerves. “you’re gonna… use those?” you gulp, watching the tentacles slither towards you. “why of course!” alastor snickers, seeing your apprehension. “don’t you worry that pretty little head of yours." he coos, watching with hungry yet tired eyes.

the shadow apendages wrap around your thighs, cold to the touch but not unpleasant. as they slowly spread your legs, another slides between them. it's almost embarrassing the way your legs shake with anticipation, the cool tip of the tentacles swiping up your slit. "o-oh, that's..." you sigh in relief when you're suddenly being filled. "how's that darling?" alastor hums, watching as you open wider around him. "that's... oh god alastor..." you pant, every slow thrust of his tentacle-like shadow making your head dizzy.

the foreign feeling of being stretched so wide has you already teetering on the edge. without warning, alastor curls the apendage while picking up pace, making your eyes roll into the back of your head. "gonna-" you mewl, hips arching off the bed with every thrust. "k-keep going please. 'm gonna cum." every whine makes alastor almost wish his cock was back inside of you, knowing just how hard you're clamping down on his shadow.

but the sight of you writhing, gripping the sheets like you're life depended on it was something he's grateful to be seeing from afar. the buildup to your orgasm comes strong, the coil in your stomach snapping from the tension and- "oooh, you really liked that, hm?" alastor's voice is heavy with arousal, pulling you back to reality after cumming. your vision slowly returns, heavy breathing filling your ears. you barely register the soaking mess you've made on the bed. "oh my god. did i..?" your face goes red, embarrasmemt setting in once again. "yes, my sweet. you did, and made quite the mess for us to clean up."

#alastor x reader #alastor smut #alastor x reader smut #alastor hazbin #alastor hazbin hotel smut #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel imagines #hazbin alastor #alastor x you #alastor x you smut #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel #alastor imagines #hazbin alastor smut #alastor #alastor hazbin hotel imagines #hazbin alastor x reader

3K notes · View notes

ckret2 · 8 months ago

Text

Chapter 55 of human Bill Cipher finally having a little fun for the first time in over a month of captivity in the Mystery Shack:

Bill does his level best to teach Mabel everything he knows about everything as fast as possible (while Ford eavesdrops). In the process, he finally reveals something about his home dimension!

But not everything about his dimension.

"Did you have rainbows in Flatworld?" Mabel had started drawing her shapesona again at the bottom of a fresh piece of paper. The heart was holding out one hand with several strips of glue shooting in a beam out from the palm; Mabel started shaking glitter onto the glue strips to make them rainbow.

"Not natural ones."

"Awww!"

"We could make them with flashlights and prisms, though."

"That's something." Still, it wasn't as cool as a real rainbow. She started carefully drawing Bill floating above her shapesona. (She probably should have drawn him before she put down glitter. She had to push up her sleeve and lift her wrist to avoid smearing the glue.) "When's the first time you saw a real rainbow?"

Bill didn't answer.

Mabel glanced at him. He had a hard look in his eyes. "Bill?"

####

For the first time in his life, the triangle was up—up but not north—in space, in the third dimension, looking down but not south at the plane where he'd spent his entire existence. It shuddered and rippled and cracked, contracting, as the entire universe crunched together around him.

Great walls of pale blue flame half a googol light years wide erupted into third dimensional space, where stars were caught and crushed between the quickly collapsing cosmic tectonic plates. He hadn't known his flat universe had stars of its own.

His home world shattered and crumbled, shrapnel and rubble spraying out, stone instantly pulverized into dust. Distant oceans rode the waves of the convulsing universe, flinging billions of gallons of water into space in a fine thin spray, glittering in the sunlight.

As the triangle watched, a great flickering rainbow ring formed in front of the ejected ocean, like the hollow eye of a hostile god staring at him in judgment.

He stared back.

And he felt himself fill with more and more and more power.

####

"Bill?"

"Sorry, I was trying to remember!" Bill sat back, laced his hands behind his head, and shrugged, "It's not coming to me. But I'm sure it was after I took charge of Dimension Zero. From time to time planets with weather systems would fall in through a wormhole, I must've seen a rainbow on one of them!"

"Oh." The answer disappointed her, but she couldn't quite put her finger on why. She puzzled over it as she drew a fireball shape around Bill's hands in glue and shook on pale blue glitter.

Bill nodded at the page, "So what are we up to?"

"Fighting evil! With rainbow lasers and... whatever that magic fire thing you do is!"

"Hey, superheroes! Sounds fun. Who are we killing?"

"Superheroes don't kill people!"

"Fine. Who are we sending to the hospital with third degree burns?"

"I don't know, I haven't made up a villain yet." She almost asked Bill what kind of monsters existed in his world; but the question died in her throat. That might be too depressing a question. She added a heart-shaped glue outline around her shapesona and shook on a glitter rainbow, and set the picture aside to dry. She grabbed a fresh paper and tried to imagine what a two-dimensional butterfly would look like. Would it just have flat little stick wings since that was more aerodynamic? That sounded boring. She started drawing a two-dimensional squid instead.

Bill studied Mabel's latest finished work—the glitter-outlined heart, the glitter rainbow laser, the glitter fire, and the plain him. After a moment, he casually mentioned, "I used to wear body glitter."

She blinked at him. "What?"

"Earlier you asked me about glitter in my dimension," Bill said. "Body paint was makeup to us. I wore it when I went dancing."

"WHAT!"

"And I'd cut open glow sticks to paint my arms and legs!"

"What color glitter did you wear?!"

"Usually gold."

"What?! Bill!" Mabel laughed. "You're already yellow!"

"But I didn't glitter. That's important!"

"You're boring."

"Shut up! I was gorgeous and I knew it! Why mess with perfection?!" He gestured down at himself, perfection, as though he'd momentarily forgotten what body he was in. "Listen, club fashion gets repetitive. If you've seen one equilateral in cutesy primary color gradients, you've see 'em all. There's beauty in simplicity—not a lot of shapes can pull off a solid color with a little light highlighting and still look flashy!" He'd sat up straighter, chest puffed out proudly, as he talked about how pretty he thought he'd been. "Buuut sure, sometimes I highlighted my points for fun. And to keep from stabbing people—it's hard for other people to judge distances with strobe lights on."

"What colors."

"Usually red, blue, or purple. You know—nice contrasts with gold."

Mabel grabbed another paper and started drawing Bill dancing. He leaned closer, elbows on the table, watching with more interest now. Mabel asked, "You had clubs with strobe lights?"

"Of course we did, we aren't barbarians." Bill picked up yellow and black markers out of Mabel's supplies, leaned over to her drawing in progress, and started adding a decorative border around the nearest edge of the paper in dots and dashes.

"What kind of music did you listen to?"

"It was... It's closest to the music in— You've never been to that dimension. Well, it kind of sounds like... I'll never hit those notes with human vocal cords." He drummed his fingers on the table. "Hold on. Let me get Questiony's piano."

####

It turned out that Flatworld club music sounded kind of like a broken tornado siren.

"It doesn't sound very good on a human piano," Bill said, giving the electric piano balanced on his knees a disapproving look. "The intervals between notes are tuned wrong, it's about four octaves short, and it's missing that tympanic membrane shredding tremolo when the treble jumps."

Mabel regarded the piano with some dismay. "Do you know how to play anything else?"

Bill sighed.

He played "Don't Start Un-Believing" for her. He even did that cool thing where you drag a finger up half the keyboard at once.

####

By now, Bill seemed a lot happier to answer Mabel's questions about his world; but she quickly worked out which ones he'd actually give a direct answer. He was the most free with science-y questions, hit or miss on the fun cultural questions, and instantly evasive when asked about his own life or uncomfortable political issues.

When she asked if shapes and their houses just kinda floated unattached to anything because they didn't have a home planet, Bill said they did have a home planet—hundreds of miles below, marking south by its gravitational pull—and they lived in the sky in between their planet and its rings. When she asked what kind of clothing they wore, Bill said they usually didn't wear anything, unless it was for practical purposes (gloves for gardening; goggles for chemistry; elbow-, knee-, and corner-pads for spelunking), and when she asked about his top hat he said slyly, "You mean my telescope?" and gleefully refused to explain further.

But when she asked if it was true that equilateral triangles were the lowest rung you could stand on before getting knocked off the social ladder altogether, Bill said that was a pretty rude question to ask a triangle. And then he said his world didn't have ladders.

When he casually let slip that he'd been able to see the third dimension when nobody else could, she asked how that was possible. He'd paused, looked up from his seventh completely incomprehensible drawing of an animal (she'd asked him whether Flatworlders had pets), and, with an eager gleam in his eye, he asked, "How much time do you have?"

####

Ford heard Bill's voice the moment he opened the door—"All right, star girl, pop quiz, let's see how much of that you kept in your noggin."

"Oh, I'm so ready!"

Baffled, Ford leaned in the living room doorway. The room was absolutely plastered in crayon-covered papers—illustrations, lists, mathematical and scientific diagrams—stars, cells, planets, vehicles. At the moment Bill was pointing at six papers taped together with a diagram on them that Ford thought was a Punnett square that had been expanded into a four-dimensional tessaract. "A polygon's sides are determined by...?"

"Genetic inheritance!" Mabel announced, the proud student who knew all the answers. "You have however many sides your parents have genes for!"

"And the idea that polygons increase by one side each generation...?"

"Is propaganda! Because if everybody hides their kids without enough sides, and they only talk about the kids that did go up a side, it makes everyone think that's what always happens and their family is the only one that's failing!"

"Perfect! And the highest natural amount of sides a shape can have?"

"Twelve! Decadoggins!"

"Close enough, dodecagons! But this isn't Greek class, I'll give you full points. So, any shapes with more sides than that got them through—?"

"Random mutation!"

"Correctamundo! Meaning the only way to get shapes with hundreds of sides is..."

"Crazy bonkers inbreeding! Because the same rich families just keep marrying each other!"

"With consequences including—?"

"Um..." Mabel puffed out her cheeks as she thought. "Skeletons getting all crackly, having a hard time making babies, and high—uh—infant morality!"

"Mortality."

"Lots of dead babies."

"Yes! And remember: when a mutation makes a body produce so much more of something than it needs that it starts harming the body, that's called...?"

"Cancer!"

"Meaning circles are...?"

"Tumors!"

"And what do we do with tumors?"

"EXECUTE THEM!"

"YES!" Bill ripped the Punnett tesseract off the wall. Behind it was a piece of paper that read, in blood red crayon, ANTI-MONARCHIST ANARCISM. "You're ready to man the guillotines! A+, star girl! Give yourself another sticker!"

"Yes!" Mabel peeled a sparkly purple star off a sticker sheet and stuck it on her cheek. Her face had over twenty star stickers.

Ford leaned against the living room doorframe, watching the scene inside with wonder. He was more than a little iffy about the political lesson—he, personally, was incredibly opposed to the idea that it was morally imperative to execute anybody with extra body parts, nobility or not—but the presentation of it was certainly captivating. It had been a long time since Ford had seen Bill like this. (It had been a long time since Ford would have trusted any lesson out of Bill's mouth.)

"Now let's get back to biangles." Bill picked up a fake crystal ball that he'd drawn various lines and shapes on with a marker.

"Awww, again?!"

"Hey. Listen," he said firmly. "I believe in you. You'll get it this time, I know it."

Ford looked around the room, taking in the scene more fully. The floor was scattered with drawings of aliens. A few of them were various polygons—regular and irregular, with the irregularities further broken down by whether they otherwise showed radial or lateral symmetry—each with thin limbs and an eye on a corner. Most were fantastical alien animals, a few that Ford had seen or been warned about on other worlds. Some had been scribbled out and redrawn when Bill's limited artistic capabilities didn't live up to his unknown standards; a few were in Mabel's art style, meaning Bill must have described them to her while she drew.

Twenty pieces of paper had been taped together on the wall behind the TV, with a drawing of a planet surrounded by a circular ring of small blobs—a planetary ring?—and a moon further out. The empty atmosphere between the planet and the ring was filled with squares and rectangles, which were grouped together in red blobby circles that were each labeled by letter: "Country △," "Country B," "Country C," "Country D (communists)," etc. A badly-drawn sea serpent slithered along the outside of the ring with the words "Here There Be Monsters" written over it.

A tall column of taped together papers was covered in examples of alien writing systems—some of them Ford recognized from his travels through other dimensions. From the ones he understood, it looked like the words were demonstrations of Mabel's name in dozens of alien writing systems. Sometimes Bill spelled her name Maybell or Mabelle.

And there were so many papers scattered around the room with little graphs and symbols and arrows Ford couldn't make sense of. And in the center of it all, Bill, alive, energetic, his full attention enthusiastically focused on his student.

Bill had to be up to something; but Ford couldn't imagine what, based on the bizarre assemblage of information in front of him. What nefarious purpose could be behind showing Mabel how to spell her name in alien languages? Unless his goal was to so enchant her with tales of other worlds that he could persuade her to help him open a new portal...? No, even for Bill that felt like a stretch.

He looked at the wall again. Surely, that wasn't Bill's homeworld. Ford had spent years of his life trying to find the world Bill was from; surely Bill hadn't just drawn it in the middle of Ford's living room. Had he?

"Okay, let's start with spherical geometry from the top," Bill said, polishing the crystal ball on his leggings to rub off the marker lines. "Don't tell anyone I can do this." He held up the ball, tapped it twice on the bottom, and it hovered in place when he let it go, freeing up both his hands to hold a ruler and marker. (How long had he been able to do that? Had he even noticed Ford was standing right outside?) He drew a line across the surface of the ball, "Pretend it's a planet. If you draw a line on a sphere, it's obviously curved, right?"

"Right," Mabel said.

"But now pretend you're on the planet. The surface of the world is a flat plane to you. From your perspective, you can walk in a straight line from point A to point B."

"But it's actually a curve. From space."

"Now you're catching on. That's what makes spherical geometry a little weird: when you're on the sphere you treat everything around you like it's 2D even though when you're off the sphere you can see it's 3D." Why in the world was Bill teaching Mabel about spherical geometry?

Bill drew two more lines to connect to the first. "So! You can draw a triangle on a sphere, no problem, right?"

"Right."

"And something you can only do in spherical geometry... is... pretend this is the North Pole and the South Pole..." Bill carefully rotated the ball under his marker as he drew a straight line from one "pole" to the other, and then drew a second straight line from pole to pole next to it. "Ta-da! If a tri-angle has three angles, a bi-angle has two angles. You've got yourself a two-sided polygon. Right?"

Mabel hesitated. "Right."

"You with me so far, Shooting Star?"

"So far," she said, with a tone that suggested she expected that to change very soon.

"But if you try to transfer that shape from spherical geometry to Euclidean geometry—" Bill turned to an expanse of still partially-uncovered white papers taped to the wall like a makeshift whiteboard, drew two points, and drew two straight lines, red and blue, between the points, "—it just doesn't work. You can't see a biangle in a flat world."

And now Mabel was squinting suspiciously at him.

Bill said, "I lost you."

"But where does it go!"

Bill shrugged. "You lost it when you lost the third dimension."

"But you said when you're on the sphere it's two dimensional!"

"From your perspective it's two dimensional, but there's still a third dimension enabling the sphere to exist."

"Then from my perspective when I'm on the planet shouldn't a biangle look like that?" Mabel pointed at the two straight lines on the piece of paper. "Since everything looks all 2D to me? But it doesn't! It's like flying from the North Pole to the South Pole through America and then flying back through China! China and America don't just squish together into the same place just because you're going in a straight line on a sphere!"

"I'd kill to hear you give a geography lesson to a Flat Earther convention."

Mabel gave him her best angry scowl.

"It was a compliment! I think you'd inspire some hilarious arguments, that's all!" Bill put two dots on the paper and offered Mabel the marker. "Look, try it for yourself! Draw a biangle."

Mabel took the marker and, after a moment of thought, drew two curved lines between the points, making a football shape.

"Those aren't straight lines, kid."

"Argh!" Mabel pulled the paper off the wallpaper, bent it into a curve, and shakily drew a straight line between the two points; but no matter how else she twisted or bent the paper, she couldn't find a path that would let her draw a second straight line between the points without overlapping the first line she'd drawn. She crumpled the paper, tossed it on the floor, and whispered, "It's witchcraft, Bill."

He burst out laughing. "I could name a few horror writers that felt the same way about non-Euclidean geometry."

"But whyyy does the biangle disappear when it goes from a sphere to normal flat paper."

"Because..." Bill groped for an explanation he hadn't already tried. He crossed an arm across his chest and tapped a knuckle just under the bow tied in his hoodie's draw strings the way some humans might tap a hand to their chin, his eyes narrowed in thought. How many times had Ford seen him make that exact same face in his true triangular form, whenever Ford was struggling to understand a lesson on portal physics and Bill was struggling to find a way to translate it into concepts Ford had encountered in his human education? "Let's try this another way."

The scene made Ford ache.

Look past the paper and the crayons, and the graph- and figure- and writing-covered walls looked so much like the advanced physics lessons and blueprints that Bill had coated Ford's starry blue dreamscape in during his sleep. Look past the flesh and bone, and Bill moved and gestured and spoke the way he had when he was teaching Ford how to build a bridge between worlds.

It was the first time since Bill's death that Ford had seen 100% of his personality shining—unhindered by grief, secrets, or a disdainful human audience. It was the first time in decades that Ford had seen Bill at his best.

In that moment, for a split second, Ford forgot how to hate Bill. He couldn't see Bill the traitor, Bill the invader, Bill the homicidal party animal. The only person in that room with Mabel was Bill Cipher the Teacher, Mentor, and Muse that Ford used to know so long ago. Like an ancient god who'd chosen to spend a day roleplaying as a giddy professor—Bill was holding back a tsunami's worth of vast, ancient, unintelligible alien knowledge so that he could drip out revelations at a faucet's pace, slow enough for his student to catch each drop in her hands.

Over thirty years ago, there had been moments when this Bill peeked out behind the above-it-all façade—and that had been the Bill that Ford was happiest to see, the Bill that Ford had thought of as a friend rather than a mere teacher... but each time, it hadn't been long before Bill seemly caught himself and turned off the faucet for the night.

Because he couldn't let Ford learn too much, or he would have seen through Bill's ruse.

Hatred tiredly crept back in.

"I've got it!" Mabel triumphantly flung her hands in the air. "It's like orange slices!"

"Orange slices?" Bill repeated.

"Be right back!" Mabel zoomed to the kitchen, shouting, "Hi Grunkle Ford!" as she passed.

Ford watched her go, then looked back at Bill; Bill had glanced at him for the first time. But all he did was frown and mutter, "I don't remember inviting you to audit this course."

Before Ford could decide whether to retort, Mabel charged back into the living room with an orange and a sharp knife. "Okay! If you draw a triangle on the orange," Mabel said, doing so with a marker, before cutting into it with the knife, "and then you—you cut it out all the way to the center..."

"Be careful with that," Ford said. Mabel was holding the orange in one palm and stabbing into it from the opposite side.

Bill said, "Lay off, Six Fingers. I'm keeping my eye on her, she's not gonna hurt herself."

"I'm being careful!" Mabel was struggling to get an even wedge cut all the way to the center of the orange; she eventually gave up and dug into the orange with her fingertips to tug out a messy mangled handful of fruit, attached to a roughly equilateral patch of orange peel about two inches to each side. She shook orange juice off her fingers. "Pretend I cut that out better."

"I dunno what you're talking about," Bill said. "It looks flawless."

She pointed at each corner of the peel triangle. "Okay so, these are the three corners of the spherical triangle, right?"

"Right."

"And if you want to make a regular flat triangle, you can... try to cut a straight line between the corners, like..." She squeezed the rest of the orange between her knees, held the edges of the triangular peel with her fingertips, and sawed off the orange pulp underneath, trying to cut a flat level plane as near to the triangle's corners as she could. Ford almost warned Mabel about the knife again, but glanced at Bill's face and his expression of unworried, keen curiosity, and kept quiet. Bill reached out and caught the sawed-off chunk of orange pulp before it hit the ground.

Mabel held out the peel slice. "There! Right? Spherical triangle on top and flat triangle on the bottom!"

Bill considered that, one hand on his hip. He popped the orange chunk in his mouth. "All right. So far so good."

"But if you make a biangle..." Mabel drew two lines between the top and bottom of the remaining orange, and cut a wedge free. "There isn't anything extra to cut off to let you make a flat shape. There's just a straight line between the two points!"

"Ha! Okay, all right, that works! Brilliant! What do you need me for? You just taught yourself the whole lesson!" Bill ruffled her hair so enthusiastically that he knocked her headband askew.

She shoved him away, laughing, and straightened out her headband. "Bill!"

"What did I say! Didn't I tell you you'd get it?" Bill was beaming at her, impressed, delighted, proud. "Congratulations, you've just mastered college-level geometry."

"Wh—What? Are you serious? This is college stuff?" She shook her head. "No way, you're lying."

Bill pointed at Ford without looking at him. "Tell her."

He felt a little like a dog being commanded to bark; but he said, "He's right. I didn't start studying spherical geometry until my second semester in college." He was sure he could have studied it sooner, if his high school had offered it; and he doubted Mabel had absorbed an entire semester's worth of spherical geometry; but he didn't see any reason to point any of that out when Mabel's face lit up in excitement.

Bill said, "There you have it! Way to go, star girl! Two big stickers."

"YES!" Mabel peeled off two jumbo-sized star stickers with smiley faces and stuck them onto her earrings. "So does that make a biangle a girl or a boy?"

And Ford was immediately lost again.

"No," Bill said.

Mabel sighed loudly and tried again. "Does that make a biangle a line or a polygon?"

"Still no, but for a different reason. Externally, they look like lines to anyone who isn't psychic. Internally, their anatomy usually functions like a polygon's. But socially, you've gotta ask. Some of 'em consider themselves lines, some polygons, some claim biangularity is neither linear nor polygonal. Personally, I say they're whatever they say they are. Because," he said grandly, "I'm just that open-minded and accepting."

Ford stifled a derisive snort. But Bill's self-aggrandizing aside, Ford's mind was reeling trying to keep up—spherical geometry, the (gendered?) socialization of shapes, Flatworlder anatomy—what did psychics have to do with anything? Ford's fingers itched for a pen. He wished he had his journal with him.

Bill grabbed several papers off the floor and the floating crystal ball and climbed on top of the wooden TV cabinet. He left the ball hovering behind him seven feet up in the air, tossed aside several papers he'd already used both sides of to let them flutter back to the floor, and taped the rest to the wall with their blank backsides turned out. "Now back to remote viewing." He drew a grid in blue lines on the papers, said, "Toss me that triangle wedge," used a marker to draw an eye on the triangular orange peel, tapped it twice like he had the crystal ball, and stuck it against the grid, where it sat unmoving.

And the entire time, Ford watched with his arms crossed tightly.

Almost a month ago, Bill had given Ford his manipulative trap of a birthday gift, a miniature grimoire, five pieces of paper, margins filled, two rows of text per line, packed with as diverse an array of magical spells and occult knowledge as Bill could fit. It wasn't a gift, it was a boast and a taunt: look at everything I know that you don't; look at what I could teach you if you let me live.

It was something Bill could have given him all along—effortlessly, with no cost to himself—but didn't, until Bill wanted something from him.

On his birthday, Ford had wondered, furiously: when this was what Bill could have been—gift-giver, wish-granter, teacher, guide, friend—why did he choose not to be?! It was an internal scream of rage, the howl of a wounded victim at the condemned criminal as he was marched to the gallows: you monster, you monster, you monster, when it would have been so easy for you to be something better, why instead are you a liar, manipulator, torturer, murderer, life-ruiner, world-ender? Answer for yourself: why are you this instead of someone better? How dare you?

It had made Ford want him dead even more.

This was the exact opposite of the grimoire.

The question in Ford's head wasn't a scream of rage anymore. It was grief. It was a plea. It was one last desperate attempt to understand:

Instead of being who he was, why couldn't Bill have been this person? This charismatic, energetic, ecstatic muse who ruled like a king over a classroom he'd constructed himself, eager to share a trillion years of collected wisdom with a fragile mortal mind, lighting up with joy whenever she grasped something that was trivially simple to him? This guide to the vast wonders beyond Earth, competent and encouraging and funny, delighting in the weirdness of the wide wide universe? The Bill that Ford had once liked so much—the Bill that he'd called his friend?

"Okay," Bill said, all sunshine and excitement, "Back to how to view the third dimension from the second dimension—"

Mabel said, "Can you view the fourth dimension from the third?"

Bill hesitated a split second, but said, "Sure! You can view any dimension from any dimension! You've just gotta bend your eye the right way to see higher ones!"

"What does the fourth dimension look like?"

"Well—hm. Imagine the way that the third dimension looks different from the second, and that's the way the fourth dimension looks different from the third."

Mabel stared at Bill.

"Eddie wrote an entire book about a square meeting a sphere because that was the closest he could get to telling other humans what seeing the fourth dimension is like! If I could still visit dreams, I could just show you, but..."

"Isn't the fourth dimension time? Blendo showed us the time stream! Is that what it looks like?"

"Nnn—close! You're close. The fourth dimension isn't time, but time is in the fourth dimension."

"How's that different."

Bill pointed at the floor. "If the carpet's the second dimension and the lamp's shining on it, the third dimension isn't light, but light is in the third dimension."

"Ohhh." Mabel gasped. "That's why you called some weird thing flying around in a higher dimension an eclipse! Because eclipses were in a higher dimension in Flatworld!"

Bill's face lit up in surprised delight. "All right, skip three lessons ahead, why don't you! In a week's time you'll be teaching people how my dimension works." He turned back to his papers and started drawing a branching river. "So! That time stream you saw isn't time itself! It's a visual metaphor being generated so humans can see time too—sort of a hologram projecting from the fourth dimension into the third—have I explained that the universe is a hologram yet—"

Why weren't you this person, Ford wondered. Why did you choose not to be this person? When it was so easy for you to be this? When this made you happy, too?

Why couldn't you have been this person?

Why are you only like this now, when you're about to die?

####

(Hope y'all enjoyed Infodump: The Chapter. This is one of those chapters with something hidden in it that'll unravel the whole fic if you happen to find it, so have fun searching for that. Let me know what you thought of this week's chapter! And get excited—we've got Big Things coming up... soon.)

#bill cipher #human bill cipher #gravity falls #gravity falls fic #gravity falls fanart #fanart #my art #my writing #bill goldilocks cipher

529 notes · View notes

hughiecampbelle · 8 months ago

Text

The Boys Preference: Reacting To Your Tattoos

A/N: I have so many ideas for The Boys cast! Be sure to look out for more posts! I'm updating my request list to include them 😊 I'm sorry I've been a little MIA! I'll be getting back to requests asap! Hope you like it! Feedback is always appreciated 💜

Butcher loves them. This is not the moment to say something, to react, but he definitely takes notice. You got hurt, really hurt, and the only way to save you was for Annie cauterizing your wounds, buying you a little more time. Butcher didn't need to hold you down, you'd already gone limp, losing all color in your face. He begs you to wake up, to stay with them. There was so much blood. So much red. He was covered in it, seeping through his shirt. Your jacket was thrown off, the collar of your shirt torn, ripped, for easier access to your shoulder and they both discovered the tattoos. Your chest, your arm, neck, you were covered. He had a feeling there were far more, wondering why you never showed any of them. You were always so bundled up, he never even questioned it. He warned you this was going to hurt, though he wasn't even sure you could hear him. Still, as Annie's hands grew bright, he cringes, hoping you were too out of it to feel anything, hoping this would all seem like a far away dream. Hoping you won't mind the large scar that will warp your ink.

Hughie is pretty intimidated by them. The Boys are already a scary looking group, but meeting you, he thought you were going to bite off his head. Your body was pretty covered. After getting to know you, he realizes how wrong he was. You're snarky and stubborn, but you're also thoughtful and funny. If it were up to you, you'd never hurt a fly, just Vought. Still, every so often you'll do or say something that reminds him of that first impression, especially when you feel threatened or your friends are threatened. You'll show up with a few new ones, filling in the gaps. When it comes to open wounds you're ready to treat it with a strong drink and duct tape. When it comes to your tattoos, you're meticulous in your aftercare. He's never seen you so serene looking as when you're taking care of them, so gentle. Something about that makes him feel like he shouldn't be witnessing it, but he's grateful that he is. When they're in tricky spots, he's the first to offer to help. He works with nervous hands, afraid he'll do something to ruin it. You just laugh, walking him through it.

Annie knows all about your tattoos. They are, after all, linked to the V in your blood. You didn't start developing them until your late teens, your parents assuming the V they injected was a dud. Images started appearing and with them, your powers. By the time she met you, you were covered. You didn't like showing off to The Boys. You still had a long way to go to gaining their trust. Parading around the fact that you were a Supe wasn't going to help. Still, when it was just you and Annie you were less reluctant to show her. All kinds of images adorned your skin: weapons, insects, animals. You liked the weapons the best. The thing could project itself from your skin as if it were real. In seconds, you had a sword in each hand, as real and sharp as if you'd physically gotten one. The best part? Your skin was indestructible. Every few months, maybe years, a new tattoo would appear, giving you a leg up in the fight against Vought. She thinks you have by far the most interesting powers of any Supe she's met.

M.M. hates them. Because they're linked to the V you got as a baby, he sees them more of a warning than anything else, the way brightly colored animals are poisonous. He hadn't realized the first time you met, what they were from, and you were smart enough not to tell him. It was only when you were fighting for your life did you use your abilities: the circles on the back of your neck, layered, you let out a sonic scream that shattered windows, set off car alarms, and drew blood. The group that had attacked you were coughing it up, it was running down their necks from their ears. M.M. was far enough away not to be affected, but the way he tells it, he was *this* close to having his insides turned to goo. Some were safe enough to run away. The ones who were closer dropped dead with a wet squelch. He trusts you even less for not telling him. When he breaks the news to everyone else, he's shocked to find out that they either knew (like Annie) or they were unfazed, more impressed than anything else, like you'd become this great asset. You apologize profusely, but you know it'll be a long time before he can even look you in the eyes.

Frenchie thinks they're so cool. He went with you once and got one of his own: while you were getting a rather large piece finished, he wants to get a smiley face on his ass cheek. Despite the discomfort, Frenchie's all giggles. He's more than excited to show this off to everyone he decides to moon. You try to tell him how to take care of it, but he waves you off. He's eager to show The Boys. He's lucky it heals properly and by the end of the week, everyone he comes into contact with has seen it. Besides that, his favorite thing is to study the ones you have. They're intricate and beautiful and some of them are pretty silly. You never understood the sentiment that there had to be some grand kind of meaning behind them. If you like it, you get it tattooed. He asks questions about them, most done all over the world or, a couple, in prison. He thinks you look badass, especially when you shed the bulky layers and show off what they normally don't get to see. Your back piece is his favorite. When you're wearing something with a low back, or disregard a shirt completely, he can't help but watch you. You're careful, covering them with clothes or makeup so that whatever illegal thing you're doing can't be traced.

Kimiko asks a lot of questions. Did it hurt? Why that image? What does it mean? How long did it take? You never mind, in fact you like talking about them. You spent enough time getting stabbed, you wanted someone to ask. She especially loves the ones on your hands. They look beautiful as you sign back to her. Some are still a little raised despite how well you took care of them, those are her favorite. She touches them delicately, afraid it might hurt, but you assure her they're all healed. She watches when you're getting changed together, how they move with your skin and muscles. They make her smile knowing you feel so much more at home in your body because of them, something you admitted to her late one night after a few drinks. They help you like yourself, covering up insecurities, making you feel cuter/cooler than you would without them. She's always the first to notice when you get a new one, making a point regardless of the situation to tell you how nice it looks and that she likes it a lot.

Bonus! Homelander thinks they're horrendous. Disgusting. Just another way you've defiled your body. He can't stand to look at them and made sure you understand that. Around him, you keep them covered, either by clothing or makeup. You know better than to draw attention towards them. Regardless of how you acquired them (Compound V or just an aesthetic choice) you know not to bring them up or let anyone else bring them up. A-Train noticed the one of the back of your neck and that put Homelander over the edge. You were both thrown out of the room. You consider yourself more than lucky. He could have killed you, both of you, but he was feeling generous. He had bigger things on his mind. You knew working for Vought would lead to sacrifices, uncomfortable situations, but being interrogated by Homelander about your tattoos was never something you ever considered. He thinks about using his lasers every time he sees them poking out from your sleeve or pants. But he needs you. As long as he needs you, you're safe. The moment you stop being useful, he's going to cut off every individual image until there's nothing left. Until you look normal again.

507 notes · View notes

takamimami · 4 months ago

Note

hii! 🫀 anon here. i saw ur event post and just knew i HAD to request!!

i wanted to request a law x fem reader nsfw piece with 1. Our bodies fit so well together and 2. Everything alright?” “I just missed you.”(from the fluff prompt) if two isn’t okay then you can scratch the 2nd one! maybee some size kink and tummy bulge too 😽 also i love that you use angel sm in your writing law saying absolutely filthy shit w the angel pet name would be the end of me

congrats on the 100 followers <3!!! you deserve every single one and more!

Ohhhhh 🫀 anon, my precious, thank you so so much for your kind words and continued support <3 I'm not going to lie, I squealed a lil bit when I read this DELICIOUS request. I hope I did your idea and our moody boy justice with this, and I hope you enjoy the read :3

Law x F!Reader - NSFW - “Our bodies fit so well together" & "Everything alright?” “I just missed you.” STORY UNDER THE CUT - MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DNI 🔞 CW: SMUT; overstimulation, law makes you squirt :3, mirror sex, pussy-drunk law, fluff and smut, lots of praising, law edging himself bc he missed you, law calls you 'angel' --- word count 1.2k

The drag of Law’s thick cock along your walls has you panting as he thrusts into you slowly, each deep thrust sending a shock wave of pleasure through your entire being. The two of you had been at this for hours, both your bodies slick with sweat as a hint of concern creeps into the back of your mind at the fact that your boyfriend hadn’t finished yet. He’d just returned from a stint with the Straw Hats in Punk Hazard, and instead of enjoying the warm welcome the crew had prepared for him, he whisked you away to his quarters almost immediately. The two of you had barely gotten the door shut before his fingers were inside you - not that you minded - but it was a slight cause for concern you knew you’d have to address when this was over.

You knew Law to enjoy teasing and edging both of you occasionally when you went at it, but you’d lost count of how many orgasms he’d pulled from you tonight a while ago. You knew he was close - you could practically feel his cock pulse each time he bottomed out inside of you, his head kissing your cervix as he held you to his chest and groaned into your neck. But just when his thrusts increased pace and you were sure he would tumble over into euphoric bliss with you, he pulled out of you completely.

“Everything okay?” You ask, looking up at him as he stands from the bed, his hulking frame hovering over you as he pulls you to the edge of the bed by your ankles. He leans over, his chest muscles rippling as he wraps his arms around your waist and lifts you into his arms, carrying you in the direction of the bathroom and setting you down on the counter before hitching your legs around his hips. His grey eyes are glossy as he looks down at you, pupils blown out with lust as his raspy voice cuts through the silence.

“‘M fine, angel, I just missed you,” he croons roughly as he slides his hips forward into yours, his eyes dropping down to where you two are once again connected as he sheaths himself inside your velvet walls once more. “Missed you so fucking much.”

Your back arches and your lips fall open with a moan as he pumps himself into you roughly, his short and shallow thrusts prodding at the gummy walls of your g-spot. Law smiles wickedly at the affirmation, eyes trained on the slight bulge of him in your abdomen as he works himself deeper and harder inside of you. He pulls you to the very edge of the counter, the veins in his arms popping as he supports the weight of you with one arm slung under your hips, the other pressing down on your lower abdomen where his eyes had been trained moments ago.

You knew this spelled out the end for you, your body immediately going slack against the cool tile as you felt the familiar sensation rise in your gut. Your mind was spinning as you prepared for an earth-shattering orgasm, one Law somehow knew how to pull from you like it was his god-given purpose in life.

“Relax angel,” he coos, chest now hovering over you, his larger frame encompassing nearly all of you as he looks down at you, his face quite possibly the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen in this pussy-drunk haze he was in. You comply, and the cord inside you tightens as you screw your eyes shut, each one of Law’s thrusts pressing you harder and harder into the counter.

“That’s it, angel, make a mess for me.”

His words snap the cord, your orgasm crashing over you harshly as your hips begin to buck into his thrusts. Law digs his fingers into your hips as he holds you steady, leaning into the counter for support as he thrusts into your soaking cunt. Your release begins to spray out of you, splashing onto his torso and the floor as he pulls out, the pressure being too much so he instead replaces his cock with his fingers, curling them up into your g-spot and pulling even more waves of pleasure from you.

Your eyes remain shut, stars twinkling behind your eyelids as waves of pleasure ripple through your body. You’re not sure if you’re even making any sounds, but your mouth goes dry as your orgasm starts to subside, Law’s fingers working tirelessly against you until he’s sure he has pulled every last drop from you.

He can’t resist the temptation to drop to his knees and swipe his tongue over your swollen lips, a strangled cry ripping out of your chest from the over-stimulation as your hand pushes his face away.

“Wait, wait,” you pant breathlessly, needing a moment to recover from the intensity of your last orgasm. Law chuckles below you, standing up to hover over you again, his body coated in your release as he presses his entire self into you, pulling you into a sitting position.

Your body is weak, hopelessly so, and you can’t help the groan that leaves your body when your eyes drop down to Law’s cock, the tip blushed and swollen.

“How have you not come, yet?” you ask with a laugh, tensing as he chuckles back and slides you off the edge of the counter. Your legs are shaky as they try to keep you upright, and you’re grateful for Law’s strong arm around your waist otherwise you may have ended up on the floor.

“I just can’t get enough of you,” he croons, your eyes meeting his in the mirror before trailing along the tattooed arms that held you flush against him. You hiss as he slides back into your sensitive cunt, and he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck to pepper gentle kisses there. “You got one more for me, angel?”

You moan lightly and lean your head back against his shoulder, feeling your walls clamp around him as he begins moving inside you again.

“Look how perfectly our bodies fit together,” he rasps, and you open your eyes to meet his fiery gaze in the mirror. His arms wrapped tightly around you, his hips jacking into yours as your back arches with each movement. “It’s like you were made for me.”

You hum as his pace increases, a hand sliding down to rub gentle circles on the sensitive bundle of nerves at the apex of your thighs. Your moan comes out as more of a whimper from the contact, and your hands fly out to brace yourself on the counter in front of you as Law presses himself deeper inside of you.

“You’re gripping me so tight, angel,” Law groans, feeling the familiar flutter starting in your core as he speaks, “So, fucking, tight… So perfect.”

His babbling is met with a string of moans from you, your brain going fuzzy from the praise. “Law, come for me,” you beckon, teetering on the edge of release as you clamp down on his length, trying to bring him over the edge with you.

You’re successful, and Law buries his face into your neck again as he feels his own cord snap, thrusts growing sloppy as his cock pulses inside you. You’re so absorbed in watching Law shatter behind you that you barely comprehend the way your body shakes in his arms, milking every last drop from him while he strings together curses into your neck.

His hips finally still, and he holds you tightly against him - his breathing shaky as he tries to ground himself again. He hisses when he finally pulls himself from your grip, an instant rush of both your releases trails down your leg.

He loosens his grip around your body and moves his hands to your hips, gingerly leading you over to the tub and running the two of you a warm bath. He sprinkles some essential oils into the tub before scooping you up into his arms and settling into the water. You straddle him as he leans back against the tiles, your head resting on his chest as the water soothes your now sore muscles.

“I love you, angel.”

The words pull your gaze up to him, lifting your head so that you’re at eye level with him, before connecting your lips to his in a gentle kiss. When you pull away you can see a hint of something lingering in his eyes, and you know there is something under the surface that he was still unpacking. You don’t press it, instead offering him a gentle smile to tell him that you’ll be here when he’s ready to talk.

“I love you, Law, and I missed you, too.”

374 notes · View notes

sguidwards-bestfriend · 1 year ago

Text

So apparently pitchpearl is a thing, I've been on tumblr for a while and if you know any history then you understand why selfcest doesn't surprise me in the slightest

Anyway...

dpxdc Misunderstanding that becomes reality fic: 1.5k

part 1

Warning: I plan on a very melancholic ending, its a good ending but also kinda sad

...

When Danny moved to Gotham, he really had thought he wouldn't continue his hero work in this dimension.

But there was a little girl in the street that almost got hurt during a rogue attack.

But some kind of gas went off at the cafe he worked at and it's not like he really needs to breath and there were so many people.

But his University, Gotham U, was in a lock down from a random winter storm that definitely wasn't natural.

So he did what he could when he saw it and kept off of the news when he was doing class work, letting the other "vigilantes" pick up where he couldn't.

However, after a few more months of class, work, and being a vigilante (the news station that first showed him used the correct name!!), he was right back where he had been in Amity before he'd managed to close the portal.

Exhausted and failing at everything other than hero work.

The year after he had graduated high school he stayed in Amity and was able to make amends with the ghosts, being the crown prince definitely helped. He thought the ghost attacks stopping would have lessened his pa- Jack and Maddie trying to catch one. In reality they only became more and more frantic to catch the last ghost, "Mini Phantom".

Revealing he had a daughter, that that daughter was half ghost, hadn't gone well in the slightest.

The one shot Maddie managed to hit had almost destabilized her. He had grabbed her and ran into the portal. He wasn't sure how he'd done it, but in a fit of blinding rage he had destroyed both sides of the doorway to the Ghost Zone.

Frost bite had managed to get her to retract into her core. She'd need some time before she'd have a physical form again, and she'd need Danny to keep her stable for some time, but she would make it. She'd be fine in the end.

It felt weird to have two cores in his chest, but other than needing to take ecto shots it wasn't a huge change.

The last time he'd been to frostbite Ellie's core had some sort of shake to it. It could have been nothing, but a halfa was rare enough. A halfa making a never-born hadn't even been thought of. Add on, that that never-born could possibly be born a halfa was... concerning.

So here he was, in an entirely new dimension, nervously chewing on the end of his stylus, waiting to hear back from Frostbite. His study sessions lately kept being interrupted by thoughts of her. If she really was okay.

Then there was an earth shattering BOOM, that shook his entire building.

As he floated upwards and through the wall he caught a glimpse of something he had never seen before in his afterlife.

A daemon. An actual daemon with red skin and horns and a flaming tail crawling out of the ruble that used to be his front door.

Danny could sense immediately that the being wasn't from the ghost zone, but it held just as much power as one of the stronger ghost.

He transformed and landed in front of the being, "Hey! That was my front door! What gives, Rudolf?"

The daemon shook the dust off his head and looked at Phantom, then at his chest, and back at him. "I do not fight those that carry child."

"Oh... uh." He was not expecting that. "Are you okay?"

It was the daemons turn to look perplexed. "I am fighting a hellblazer, he owes me something. Refuses to pay."

"That's annoying." He looked around to see some guy in a trench coat at the end of the street. The yet to settle dust cloud making it hard to figure out any other features. "I can help if you-"

At that a massive blast of magic hit him and the daemon, sending them careening farther down the street.

Danny's vision went double and he thought he was going to throw up. All he could focus on at first was the pain as he tried to stand on wobbly legs, then it was the emptiness in his chest.

Ellie.

He closed his eyes and dropped back to the floor. He focused on her core. He found it quickly, checking it over, turning it every which way incessantly until he heard someone groan in front of him.

When he opened his eyes he was looking at two much smaller daemons, one a bright red, the other a darker wine red, sitting in a massive indent in the road. One he very luckily was on the very outskirts of.

The two immediately started to bicker, swatting at each other, but not actually fighting.

He heard footsteps on the wreckage behind him, some magic words were said and the daemons' were hand cuffed and poofed out of sight.

"Hey kid, you okay?" Trench coat asked him, not bothering to give him his hand.

"No thanks to you, you ass."

"I just saved your life." He said with a blank expression.

"The daemon wouldn't have done anything to me. Unlike you, they have a moral code."

Trench coat huffed, that seemed to ruffle his feathers. "And what would those morals be exactly?"

"They pay their debts, for one. And two, they don't magically attack people carrying children." Danny stood up and wavered. Trench coat grabbed his arm to steady him.

He stared at Danny for a few more seconds, "You're not human." It wasn't a question. He sucked in a breath, "You're not fully human."

"Ding, ding, ding." Danny tried to shake of the hellblazer's grip. "Let go of me."

"I know where to get medical attention for non humans. You need to be looked over." He said, starting the motion to make a portal.

"Nuh, uh. No. I'm fine." Danny said, patting the hand still wrapped around his arm. Trenchcoat let go and shoved him lightly, Danny felt the world twist around him as the pavement came up to meet his face.

Before he hit the ground he stopped in mid air, not by his own volition, and was gently propped back up.

"That blast spell is designed to not affect humans. You shouldn't have felt more than a breeze." Trenchcoat went back to opening up a portal, it glowed an eerie red. "Come on, well check the little one too."

Danny let himself get pulled through the red portal, it quickly closed behind them.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

His head was pounding.

"wha/t- morals- exactly?"

Talking.

"debts- two- atta/ckp/eo-ple- children."

Two voices. Two people.

"not human."

He feels empty.

"Letg/oof me."

He's hurt. His other half is hurt.

"You need to be looked over."

He opened his eyes, a man was holding his other half. His other half and his daughter.

"Nuh, uh. No. I'm fine." His other half swatted at the man.

The man pushed his other half to the ground.

He tried to reach out but his hand was barely a shimmering outline.

His other half didn't hit the ground.

There was ringing in his ears. The man would pay.

"Come on,- the little one too."

The man pulled his other half through a portal.

A sickly looking portal. A bloody color.

He floated up. Sped to the closing portal.

It closed too fast.

He wasn't fast enough.

...

It took Phantom 20 minutes to get his thoughts in order and another 10 before the ringing in his ears stopped.

He had been split in two before, but the ghost "dream catcher" the ecto-scientists made years ago had split his ghost half and his human half entirely. This was different.

He still felt a bit of his humanness. Transforming would suck though, he felt too low on ecto to do that.

His other half was in his human form when he looked. He still had Ellie nestled up against his core. But his core looked off. Although the silhouette was of a full sphere, he couldn't help shaking the thought that he saw some parts missing.

When Danny had been split before only his ghost had kept the core, it was what nearly killed them both. What made them promise to never split again.

Maybe if they both had bits of a core they'd be fine until they could reunite.

He tried to focus on his core but it made his head pound.

He'd have to hope his other half could manage as he tried to organize a rescue mission.

Although he'd managed to get a message from the Ghost Zone to Sam and Tucker, he wouldn't be able to get one dirrectly to their dimension.

He knew even trying to make a portal with his ecto as low as it was wasn't a good idea. And would be a waste of the ecto shots he had just chugged.

There was really only one hope of help he had left, one he really didn't want to ask.

A new friend he had made at the cafe.

Tim Drake-Wayne, son of Brucie Wayne. The very same Brucie Wayne that was definitely funding Batman's weird night life.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Wow this got away from me, honestly was planning on like 500 words. I want to continue this, but if anyone wants to pick it up and play around please feel free to add stuff in the reblogs! I adore reading peoples additions to posts

(As always please please please help me writing tags i never knwo what to do with them, the lack of structure here compared to ao3 confuses me)

#pitch pearl #bad parents jack and maddie #dpxdc #my writing

480 notes · View notes

yourlovelywriter · 7 days ago

Text

Bewitched by you? (Pt 4)

Welp guys… this is my last one.. I was brutally assaulted by an anon.. ✋

I’m just kidding I’ll keep going despite my heart being shattered.

—————————————————

I woke to the scent of coffee and the quiet shuffle of movement.

For a few seconds, I wasn’t sure where I was. The hotel room was still cloaked in early morning dimness, the golden light of sunrise spilling through the half-drawn curtains. The bed beneath me was softer than mine at home, the sheets tangled around my legs. Then, the memory of yesterday settled into place—the long drive, the late-night check-in, the single bed.

And Lilia.

She stood by the window, coffee cup in hand, gazing out at the street below. Loose waves of dark hair tumbled over her shoulder, the soft light tracing the delicate lines of her face. She looked at ease here—so much so that I had the ridiculous thought that maybe this town belonged to her, that maybe every place she walked simply bent itself around her presence.

I stretched, my muscles protesting the early morning. “What time is it?”

Lilia turned, her gaze sweeping over me like she had already been waiting for me to wake up. “Later than you’d think.”

I groaned, rubbing my face. “You could’ve woken me.”

She smirked, sipping her coffee. “I could have.”

I blinked sleepily at her, trying to shake the drowsiness from my limbs. “So… do we have time to grab something to eat before the reading?”

A pause.

Then, as effortlessly as if she had expected the question, Lilia said, “My client wants to wait until tonight.”

I frowned, sitting up. “I thought you said she wanted us to come out here as soon as possible?”

“She did.” Lilia set her cup down and grabbed her coat from the chair. “But she changed her mind. Said it’s better to do the reading after dark.”

I hesitated. “Is that a thing?”

She shot me a knowing look. “There’s a lot you don’t know, Baby.”

I wanted to press further, but the way she spoke—smooth, unbothered, as if nothing about this was unusual—made me pause. It wasn’t like I had any real reason to doubt her. If Lilia said the woman wanted to wait, then that was the plan.

“Fine,” I muttered, rubbing my face. “What do we do until then?”

Lilia tossed me a set of keys. “Come on. I’ll show you around.”

The town was quiet, the kind of place where time seemed to stretch longer than it should. Cobblestone streets wound through clusters of brick buildings, their windows decorated with flower boxes and wrought-iron lanterns. Every so often, we passed a café with tiny round tables set outside, steam rising from cups as the morning crowd sipped their coffee in silence.

Lilia moved through it all with effortless familiarity, leading me down winding streets and tucked-away alleys.

“This place is beautiful,” I admitted as we passed an old bookshop with a deep green awning.

Lilia hummed in agreement. “It has its charm.”

There was something strange about the way she said it, like she had known this place long before today.

“How do you know your client?” I asked, glancing over at her.

Lilia barely hesitated. “A referral.”

“From someone in town?”

“Something like that.”

I frowned slightly at her vague answer but let it go. Lilia was always like this—only giving away what she wanted to, never more.

We walked for a while longer before she led me to a bridge overlooking the river. The water shimmered under the sunlight, its surface broken only by the occasional ripple of a passing bird. Along the railing, dozens of colorful ribbons were tied, fluttering gently in the breeze.

I ran my fingers over one. “What are these?”

“A tradition.” Lilia leaned against the railing, watching me with quiet amusement. “People write wishes on them. Tie them to the bridge, let the river decide if they come true.”

I glanced over at her. “Do you believe in that?”

She smirked. “I believe in many things.”

The day slipped by in a haze of quiet moments.

Lilia took me to a café tucked into a hidden courtyard, where we sat outside, drinking coffee as she pointed out the small details of the town—a weathered statue in the square that no one really knew the origin of, a door painted deep blue that supposedly never faded no matter how many years passed.

At one point, we found ourselves in a small garden, tucked away behind a crumbling stone wall. The scent of lavender and jasmine clung to the air, and the sun filtered through the trees in golden patches.

I watched as Lilia ran her fingers lightly over a row of rosemary plants, a small, thoughtful smile playing at her lips. It was strange, seeing her like this—unhurried. There was always something untouchable about her back at the shop, but here, she seemed more present. Like this was where she had meant to be all along.

“You like it here,” I murmured, half a statement, half a question.

Lilia’s fingers stilled on the rosemary for only a second before she turned to me. “I do.”

Something about the way she said it made me feel like there was more to her answer. Maybe I should ask?

But before I could, she stepped closer, brushing a stray leaf from my sleeve. “You’re enjoying yourself,” she noted.

I scoffed. “You sound surprised.”

She tilted her head. “I wasn’t sure you’d be able to slow down long enough to appreciate it.”

I frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

She smirked, stepping back. “Only that you have a habit of thinking your way through things instead of feeling them.”

I opened my mouth to argue, but the truth of it settled too quickly in my chest.

Before I could come up with a retort, Lilia glanced up at the sky. The sun had begun to dip lower, the shadows stretching longer across the cobblestones.

“We should head back soon,” she said. “The reading’s in a few hours.”

Right. The reading.

Somehow, I’d almost forgotten why we were here.

I exhaled, shaking my head as I followed her back toward the main square.

Something about this town felt different now—less like a simple stop on a trip and more like a place meant to be remembered.

And something about Lilia felt different too.

———————————————————————

#agatha all along #lilia calderu x reader #patti lupone #Patti lupone is mommy

77 notes · View notes

mangosrar · 1 year ago

Text

cerebral

matt sturniolo x fem reader

this isn’t proof read 😛😛

suggestive ???

i knew this would happen. it happened with the last guy i went on a date with, and the guy before that. they just werent him. it was such a horrible feeling to sit across from someone in a restaurant searching their face for a more familiar one, one that had memories etched into his smile lines, one that had a piece of you with him. but the feeling of having him, but not being abel to have him, wasnt much better.

it was hard, finding the middle ground between my ex and my best friend. we both promised that if we ever broke up nothing would change between us. but it did. i was more cautious of him. i picked my words carefully when they left my mouth. i studied his body language whenever i was close to him. he was like a ticking time bomb. he could be set off at any minute.

lazy footsteps could be heard before i saw matt pad his way into my living room before he plopped himself down next to me. he let himself in. of course he did. he leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees before turning to look at me with a sad smile on his face.

"you okay?" his voice was hushed. like if he spoke too loud i might shatter. i just nodded with a gloomy smile on my face.

"so why do you look so sad y/n?" he knew me so well and i hated it. i couldnt differentiate wether he knew me so well because he was my bestfriend for so long, or if because he was the love of my life at one point.

"just the date. i dont think you wanna hear about it" i let out a sad laugh as i spoke. his eyebrows furrowed for a second before he replied.

"youre still my bestfriend y/n. just because youre my ex too doesn’t mean you cant tell me about the new guys" he sounded genuine. like he didnt care about the new guys. like he wasnt mad about them. but he should be. i wish he was. i wish he was repulsed at the thought of me ever being able to move on from him. but he wasnt. i kept my eyes trained to the ground. there was a heavy silence as he searched my face. i could feel his wandering eyes burning holes into me. like he could see straight into my brain.

"he called me cerebral matt" i paused, eyes still boring holes into the carpet beneath me. "i didnt even know what it meant" i raised my eyebrows and let out a huff of air through my nose. "would it have killed him to call me pretty instead?" i finally looked up at matt to see his eyes still on me. a look on his face that i couldnt decipher. i hated that he could see my walls crumbling.

"you are pretty y/n" he cooed, his voice so sickly sweet. matts hand moved onto my leg. rubbing slow circles with his thumb. i hated this. i hated that he could sit there and tell me this and not be mine. how could he promise to soften every edge and hold the world to its best when he was killing me.

"you cant say thing like this matt" i pushed his hand off my leg and just like that the walls were built back up again. his eyes dropped to his hand that was now slumped onto the sofa then back up to my face. he knew this was coming.

"why not?" he knew why. he just wanted to hear me say it. i paused momentarily. weighing up my options. deciding wether to say the real reason or to just leave it hanging in the air and say something that we both know is a lie. i didnt know where i stood with matt. he would treat me like in still his girlfriend in some ways, caring for me, being a shoulder for me to cry on and always being there to hold my hand when i needed him to, but he would drop it after a few seconds, leaving cold, heart shaped scars in his wake.

"because im still in love with you" tears were threatening to spill as i spoke. his face didnt move a fraction. he didnt even blink, just staring at me like he was deep in thought. this was old news for him and he probably could have beat me to it but atleast he was kind enough to let me say it. matt didnt even speak. he just kept staring at me as he brought a gantle hand up to the side of my face.

before i could even pull his hand off my face his lips were on mine. i didnt have the type of self control to pull away. i leaned into him, craving the closeness, luckily he got the hint and pulled me into his lap so i was straddling him and the kiss grew heavy, his tongue forcing its way into my mouth, his wandering hands grabbing and groping whatever skin he could. he moved his mouth off mine and began trailing wet kisses down my neck and jawline making my breath hitch and my eyes close.

he began sucking and biting the skin on the side of my neck making me while. my hands found home in his hair, tugging softly, earning a satisfied hum from matt before he spoke against me.

"lets just get back together mh?" i was so lost in the way his lips felt on my skin i didnt even register what he had said until a few seconds later. i immediately pulled his head away from me and stared at him with wide eyes.

"what?" surprise evident in the sound of my voice.

"i dont see what the problem is, we both still love each other and i hate seeing you go on dates with shitty guys so why not?" i couldnt even reply to him. i just stared at him with my wouth hung open. what the fuck.

"if you dont want to, ill stop, but if you do, just say the words and ill give you whatever you want." he sounded so sure.

"yes" that was all he needed before he smirked and brought his lips to mine again, kissing me, hot and heavy.

the kiss was sloppy and desperate, both of us urgent for a touch we craved so badly. he ground his hips up, pressing his hard on into my heat making me whine into his mouth. i felt him smile against my lips before he kissed down my chin and throat before licking a stripe up it, pulling a moan from me, causing my hips to stutter against his involuntarily.

make up sex is good for the soul.

pt 2 coming soon an it’s spicy 🤓

taglist: @christinarowie332 @biimpanicking @soursturniolo @freshlovehacker @urmyslxt @kitaysworld @kvtie444 @chrisenthusiast @flowerxbunnie @mattsd0ll @itsjennarose @hearttshapedkisses @lovingsturniolo

466 notes · View notes

crystalflygeo · 2 years ago

Text

The dragon and the sacrificial lamb ft. eroded!Zhongli + gn!reader

cw/tags: rape/non-con, angst, bad ending, yandere-ish zhongli? feral/eroded zhongli, biting, crying, restraints (courtesy of improper use of geo as usual ehe)

notes: Alright this is a special one get ready. There's two "version" of this story bc I couldn't decide which path I liked more. This one is the dark/bad ending. Both stories are exactly the same at the start, changing a few word here and there but then reach a point where they divert completely in reactions/emotions and the underlying feeling of the stories are very different. They can be read independently ofc so by all means feel free to choose which tags you vibe with more or enjoy picking up the differences between both!

Bittersweet ending version here!!

Once upon a time…

A long, long time ago…

The people of Liyue revered their beloved Archon Rex Lapis. Just and kind, he led his nation for millennia, upholding order and contracts, defeating countless enemies, and defending their safe Harbor.

It is said the Lord of Geo took a human as partner, and fell in love deep and pure.

And his partner loved him just as much.

A love that would tragically become a twisted obsession.

It is said the God understood that even he himself was not immune to erosion, and it would one day be his downfall. So, he made sure his people were ready to live on without him. That his adepti were strong enough to subdue him if the day ever came.

As for his lover… well…

-----

Your bare feet crunch along the soft grass as you run and run, panting, gasping for air, almost tripping and letting out a yelp but quickly regaining balance and scurrying faster, past the falling golden ginkgo leaves, past the soft sound of rushing waters.

The golden sunset is gorgeous, dying the sky pink and orange with pastel hues but you simply ignore it, having grown tired of it, sick even. It is fake, an illusion. Just as everything else in this adeptal abode.

Everything except, of course, you and the beast you are currently fleeing from.

It is useless to try to escape, this you know, and your heart clenches painfully as tears prickle at your eyes. You’ve done this before, played this game many many times. But at least for one moment… just one moment…

A roar turns your blood to ice and against all common sense you look over your shoulder to see a massive long dragon twisting in the air and diving straight towards you.

Your legs tremble and fail you as you fall down, the grass is soft but your body aches, tired, burning. You scramble around frantically to stare at the beast again and your eyes widen in panic as it lands right on top of you, majestic and terrifying, caging you with its serpentine body. The golden claws alone are as long as your forearms, digging on the ground at either side of you.

You whimper.

The dragon lowers his head, growling at you, fangs mere inches apart and you squeeze your eyes shut, tears running down your face.

“Why do you run away from me?”

“Leave me alone!” You scream.

“Are you not happy with me? My mate?”

At the words you only sob harder.

Mate.

Oh, how much joy did that word bring you once. And now you can only feel your heart shatter.

You feel a shift in the wind, in the energy, in the light around you, and when you open your eyes, the massive dragon has faded to a more human appearance. He changes back to the form you’re most used to.

Long strands of dark hair tipped amber, striking golden eyes with stunning red lines that highlight their sharpness, a handsome face and a muscular body with arms died black, and lines of gold… lines that run along his cheek and down his neck. Cracks, like a broken glass, like scars, under his eyes and around his chest, ruining the pristine skin and unable to disappear despite his ability to change forms.

The undeniable marks of erosion.

You snap back to attention when he dips down and starts nosing at your neck, his hands pulling at the robe you’re wearing, the only article of clothing you picked up before scurrying away from the mansion. It parts open easily, revealing your naked body to his eyes, littered in past bruises, hickeys and bite marks. Claims from the dragon.

“W-wait. Stop-!” You try to push him back, panicked, desperately pressing your palms against his broad shoulders, but of course he’s immovable as stone.

You kick and trash until he gets irritated and suddenly your arms are immobilized, held above your head and pressed onto the ground by heavy geo cuffs.

“Submit.” He growls.

You squirm a little more until your body sags into the ground, exhausted, panting. There is no use. Instead, you shudder as his hands grope and rub all over your body, rough and callous.

He spreads your legs and slots between them as your breath catches. His palm presses at a spot on your navel possessively, a glittering geo symbol engraved on your skin there, glowing subtly like his horns. You whine.

Then his touch goes lower and teases at your entrance, circling the hole and dipping in just barely.

“Z-Zhongli-!”

Another growl comes out of his throat, deep and guttural. “You dare speak another man’s name in my presence? In my realm? When you belong to me?!”

Your whole body shakes, with rage, with fear. Your heart about to burst. You grit your teeth and glare at the dragon god with as much venom as you can.

“I don’t belong to you!”

He snarls, eyes widening to serpentine slits.

“Insolent. No matter, I’ll fill you up again and show you.”

The eroded God leans down to bite at your neck and you yelp, sharp fangs break your skin and you cry as you feel the warm blood spill. His claws prick at your thighs as he starts unceremoniously humping against you. The ridges on his draconic cock making your hole twitch and you gasp as he presses in, dipping slightly inside your thigh warmth. No need to prepare your body after so many years of coupling. Your hole already soft and molded to him like a worn-out toy.

“No, please… n-no.” Your voice breaks, tears running down your face.

Everything turns blurry, fuzzy, and your head spins.

How had things ended up like this?

You see no love in his eyes, no recognition. And you don’t recognize him either anymore. This creature, this beast… he is not your lover. He is not Zhongli…

And hasn’t been for who knows how long…

Zhongli raises one of your legs and rests it on his shoulder while straddling the other and pushes further in the slick warmth, ignoring the sounds you make. “Too big! I can’t-!” You scream and it just urges him to slam it in. “No- Ahh!” Sheathed all the way to the hilt, Zhongli groans as you clench around him.

He immediately starts thrusting and you feel the world tilt. It’s all too much, the sound of skin slapping against skin, your walls getting battered by his thick member, his animalistic grunts and groans, and the way your body betrays you… a speck of pleasure mixed in with the pain.

It's so cruel.

“Sto- gh! Stop it! Zhongli, please…!” You sob.

Zhongli hisses, muscles taut and flexing as his hips buck into yours, finally finding that spot that has you choking out a moan, your body shivers, forced to surrender and feel everything, a hot coil building on your lower stomach where the mark of geo glows as he continues to take what he wants from your struggling form. He laps at your skin and nuzzles there, almost lovingly. “Mine.”

Your moans start turning sweeter, previously pained sounds turning to vocalizations of carnal lust, your eyes glassy. You try to fight it, conflicted, but the stimulation is too much.

You come with a raw cry through gritted teeth, tears flowing down your cheeks and your own juices coating your skin causing you to feel dirty in more ways than one. Zhongli continues through your overstimulated state, chasing his own pleasure as his thrust become erratic until finally, he stills deep inside and moans long and low, painting your insides white.

You feel him twitch inside you and groan, absolutely exhausted, overwhelmed with emotions, feeling sick, used and abused. He lowers your leg but doesn’t bother pulling out, keeping you there as he nips at your skin, murmuring soft words. “My mate. All pretty and filled up. All mine. Love you.”

You can’t bear to hear those words, spoken in the voice you continue to love after all this time. It shatters your soul, breaking it to pieces like the corroded dragon’s destroyed mind.

Feeling about to pass out, you close your eyes and your head lolls to the side, sniffling against your own forearm as tears continue to fall. “I love… Zhongli. Miss him. I hate you…”

He dissolves the geo shackles into specks of gold and holds your unconscious body in his arms, satisfied with the claims and scent he’s left on you. His tail swishes slowly, pleased with himself as he carries you back to the abode’s mansion.

Home.

Were he’ll keep you safe, bound to him.

Forever and always.

-----

…It is said that his lover is the key to keep the eroded God confined.

Trapped by the possessive dragon in a sealed realm, to keep him ensnared, enchanted and bound to them.

Until they both turn to dust.

2K notes · View notes

igotanidea · 1 year ago

Text

Tease: Jason Todd x fem!reader

graphic credit goes to @stariver00 - <3

A/N: I can't even find the words to describe how relieved I am that I finally finished this one! :D

Summary: taking care of Jason's wounds and being a tease sounds so innocent. What could possibly go wrong?

Warnings: SMUT MDNI!! dumbifications, oral (fem receiving), my poor medical knowledge, mentions of wounds, teasing and bickering, a bit of rough play if you squint.

***

The view in front of her eyes was not she was expecting to see, however she should have seen that coming. After all it wasn’t the first time her boyfriend climbed up her window in the middle of the night, bloodied and wounded with a broken dog face expression, searching for a safe place where he could get back to shape.

“Patching.” he muttered sitting cross legged on the floor, with medical supplies splattered all over, his helmet and body armor discarded a few steps beyond.

She knew the drill, they did this dance hundreds of times now. With a deep sigh Y/N threw her bag on the floor, kicked her shoes and moved to sit on the floor next to him reaching for the gauze he had in his hands and retrieving it swiftly.

“What kind of wound? Stab? Bullet? Punch? Hit?” she asked, immediately getting into this specific, factual tone, keeping her emotions at bay, focusing on the task of helping him out.

“Bullet” he muttered mimicking her pitch.

“Exit or…?”

“Entry.”

“But no exit?” her voice faltered only slightly. Anyone else wouldn’t even notice that subtle change, but Jason knew her for too long to let it slip. He was fully aware she was terrified of what was expected of her to do.

“It stayed in.” he muttered

“You really couldn’t let me have one good night, could you? “she sighed deeply reaching for the tweezers, disinfecting them, desperately trying to control her shaky hands and putting them inside his wound. “I’m not a freaking doctor you know!”

“Just get it out already!” he hissed in pain.

“Stop squirming! It’s not helping!”

Jason clenched his jaw, wincing at every movement of the tweezers in his body but followed her orders, his fingers digging into his palms to prevent himself for hurting her in crazy fight or flight instinct.

“I got it….” She whispers finally pulling the bullet out and throwing it away, her heart beating frantically from the emotions yet her face blank and calm. It was crazy how they were both terrified and yet were dead set not to show it to the other to not amplify any of those negative feelings.

“Told you” he smirked

“Told me what exactly Todd? That you’re a selfish, reckless, stupid bastard who’s gonna give me heart attack?. I’m not professional. I could have hurt you and yet I always take care of you…..”

“Told you a silly bullet wound won’t kill me.” Jason grinned and moved to lay on the couch. “Now, get those stiches and put them to use Y/N.”

“Yeah, you’re welcome….” She rolled her eyes, reaching for the needle and swiftly mending the damage done to his shoulder. “You’re lucky it didn’t shatter any bones, cause that would be way beyond my pay grade.”

“Yeah, whatever….” He muttered waiting patiently for her to be done and finish helping him by putting on a dressing, her soft, nimble fingers dancing on his skin, sending shivers down his spine. “Thanks doc.” He chuckled to diffuse the tension. It was weird that he got so many different sensations from her touch now. She did this so many times before and only now…. she shook his head not wanting to pursue that thought.

“Might as well use that title. Not of education by definitely from experience.” She hissed standing up, moving to kitchen and pouring herself a glass of wine “by the way, did you know that experiments on living organism are forbidden?”

‘You meant me?” he raised an eyebrow watching her sip her drink.

“Obviously.”

“And yet you always stich me up. Every. time.” Jason raised from the couch, moving to stand in front of her.

„What if one day I refuse?” she teased, swirling the wine and looking straight into his eyes, almost daring him to play back.

„I’ll take care of my wounds and you take care of your liver” Jason pulled the glass from her hand putting it up away from her reach, making her pout and stuck the tongue at him.

“You gotta die from something. I’d rather go down doing something fun not fighting on the streets of Gotham.”

“Not on my watch. You can drop patching me up, but you’re not drinking. You’re gonna sit with me and watch some Netflix instead.”

“Shall I remind you it’s still my apartment?”

“Ekhem…. Our apartment.” He corrected.

“Mhm… sure… I work and pay the bills and you bleed on the floor from time to time. You’re right, you marked this place quite literally.”

„No one here is getting drunk.” He said with a stern tone.

“I’m sorry? Do I look drunk?” she scoffs “that’s offending.”

“After a bottle of wine?”

“Who said anything about a bottle?” she brushed him off, but his gaze travelled to the open, almost empty bottle standing on the kitchen counter. “Yesterday’s?” she made an innocent face at him.

“That’s your third glass, Y/N.” there was no way to hide the evidence of crime now. Damn his vigilante instincts and observational skills. Of course she could have kept the play going, but it was no point now.

“Yeah, maybe I have a reason to. And you’re the last person on earth who can preach me on recklessness.” she mutters, snatching the glass from his hand, putting it to the sink and plumping on the couch putting on some TV.

“Bad day, huh?”

“More less so….” she switch through the channels finding nothing worth keeping an eye on, and finally setting on reruns of Friends, hoping this would cheer her up even if only a little.

“Care to share?” Jason sat beside her, pulling her into his embrace, resting his head on hers.

“I don’t think I want to talk now….” Y/N snuggled into his arms, enjoying the warmth coming from his body. “Hi…..” she murmured softly, a bit calmer now. He was all right, he was safe and next to her, not bleeding, not dying, not hurting.

“Hi yourself...”Jason smiled kissing her forehead and tightening the grip on her.

“You gave me a scare, you know.”

“Sorry baby…… But you’re better now, right?” his hand moved from her waist to her back, caressing softly in a calming manner.

‘yeah… I’m better….” She sighed, feeling the stress coming off her in waves. “you feel like home”

“that’s because I am your home, princess.”

“Yeah…. Yeah… you are….”

“And you’re mine….” He added, brushing her hair and cheek softly putting finger under her chin and making her look into his eyes. ”You understand that, don’t you? That you are mine and my everything.”

“I love you….” She whispered connecting their foreheads in an intimate gesture, hoping he’ll understand all those unspoken words dying in her throat and impossible to sound.

“I love you more.” He brushed his lips over hers briefly, only to ignite her nerves and make her break.

“I could argue on that.” Y/N chuckles softly in return.

“Oh really?” his eyebrows travelled up as he pulled back looking into her eyes with a slight smirk “Try me.”

“I. am. Infinitely falling for you.” Her words were like a balm on his heart and soul making him feel like he finally found that one person he belonged to. Whatever she said to him, whenever and wherever, it never failed to set him on fire, make his nerves and his whole body burn with the passion he never knew before.

“Y/N……baby…..”

“Yeah?”

“I think you’ve won this competition……” Jason’s leaned forward, leaving inches of space between them.

“I’m gonna take my prize now.” she murmured capturing his lips in hers and immediately, out of instincts wrapping arms around his neck. She wanted, needed to feel him, just to make sure it was all real and he was really with her, not just a friction of her imagination.

Jason was with her…… Safe, loved, all for her, matching every movement of her lips with passion, pulling her on his lap, caressing her hair, touching her back and waist, doing it all at once.

"Take everything you want, love. I'm all yours."

“Mine……” a few tears fell down her cheeks when she snuggled even closer to his touch, never getting enough of it. Of him, of his love, of his affection and care. Even though those were the sign of happiness, not pain of hurt, he noticed those little droplets in an instant.

"Hey, no crying on my shoulder." He chuckled wiping them away. “I got you…. You’re safe with me….”

“I can't lose you.....” she whispered, her right hand travelling to his shoulder, tracing over the wound she patched up a few moments later. “Every time you go out there ….” Her voice broke.

„Hey…. Hey….baby look at me….” Jason grabbed her chin and forced her eyes up on him “you’re not losing me. I’m right here…..” he guided her hand to his heart, letting her feel his heartbeat “feel that?” she nodded “it beats only for you. You won’t lose me…I promise you.” He kissed her temple nuzzling nose in her hair.

“I love you Jay....”

"I love you too, honey." He replied, wrapping his arms around Y/N tightly, like he was afraid she might disappear, keeping her in the safe, strong embrace, rocking back and forth slightly.

“Does it hurt?” she asked her soft, quiet voice breaking through the silence of the apartment.

“What?” Jason asked, slightly confused by her question.

“The wound.”

"Oh... yeah, it stings a little." He replied, glancing at his bandaged shoulder.

“Want me to kiss it better?”

His eyes grew wide, tiniest blush creeping on his face. Even if it was barely visible in the dark room she knew him well enough to recognise when he got flustered.,

"Baby…..that's the best offer I've gotten all week." He grinned.

“That's not a yes though.”

“You’re taking the conscious consent to a completely new level, princess. Do you see me objecting?”

“Jason Todd…..” she warned with the slightest chuckle

“I could never say no to you, my pretty girl.” he pulled her closer “yes.”

That one little word was all she needed connecting their lips again, relinquishing in the taste of his lips, taste of him. When her mouth were busy showing her love moving all over his face, brushing his cheek, jaw and neck, her hands, simultaneously moved down to his chest, her nimble fingers tracing his skin, moving over each of his scars, reminder of his past. Of the part of his life where she wasn’t with him.

She did it so many times already, focusing on the stab wound on his thigh, tiniest dents in the rib area, multiple cuts on his chest, slashes on his arms, bullet wounds, burn wounds, all kinds of those.

So many intimate times and yet, every single one of them was so different from the other.

"You sure you wanna do this right now...? I'm all for it but I don't want you to get my blood all over you." He chuckled

„It's just a kiss Jason....” she teased, moving to kiss over the sensitive, freshly patched shoulder with her soft, warm lips, causing Goosebumps all over him and smiling at the effect of him not stopping her ministrations

“Y/N…..” he groaned, his head falling back slightly. “God…..” his grip on her tightened and he pulled her closer, his mind (and not only mind) running wild and completely out of his control.

„Shhhh...” she mumbled against his skin, keeping on her ministrations, smiling even more upon feeling his hand tangling in her hear pressing her closer to the wounded shoulder. “Let me take care of you….” Her hot breath brushed over his neck when she started nibbling there getting a few more groans of pleasure.

“Do you feel better, Jaybaby?”

“Uh…uh-huh….” He gasped slightly still trying to keep his composure “don’t want you to stop…..”

“I’m not, my love…..” she nibbled on his neck, biting gently. “Mmmh…. You taste delicious…”

“Y/N…..” his hands found a way under her shirt, tugging at the material. “you’re a devil…..”

“No, Jace….”

“But Y/N....” he whined desperately “I want you… I want to kiss you, touch you, let me love you…..”

“You’re hurt, Jason….”

“So what? I still want to have you….”

“You can kiss me, but the clothes stays on.”

“You’re such a tease, turning me all hot and then denying!” he pouted “how unfair is that?!” he shivered at her words, but even though not giving up just yet.

“Yeah, I can feel how excited you got…” she smirks, shifting to sit on his lap, purposefully brushing over his hard on.

“Come on!” he cried out, burning at the sensation. Even if it was through material he could tell himself the rest, imagination and memories doing the job. “It’s torture! Pleeeeasseeee….”

“Hmmm.. on second thought….” She pulled back stopping the kissing.

“Y/N!”

“What?”

“You promised you won’t stop!” he grabbed her hip harder, making her squeal in surprise

“I did not!” she exclaimed “I hit pause.”

“Resume it now….” He warned, his voice hoarse, his body desperate for her. “Or else….”

“Or else what, honey? What will you possibly do?” he whispered in his ear, tangling fingers in his hair, tugging and scratching gently, her eyes full of desire and love and playfulness combined. “From what I see and it’s a nice view from the top….” Y/N smirked “you’re at my mercy. How does that feel?”

“Terrible.” He pouted “I’m injured and need to be taken care of and my girlfriend is all cruel and heartless…..”

“Oh…. Am I really?” she pushed him down on the bed, forcing him to lay on his back. “Is it really so terrible? How’s the view from down there?”

“covered….”

“Covered view?” she chuckled.

“Come on!!!” he cried out, his impatient hands moving to her hips.

“Behave, Jason…..” she straddled his hips, laying on top of him, pinning his hands to the mattress, looking straight into his eyes, before moving to kiss down his chest.

“You’re playing with fire, princess….”

“Yeah, Kori has been giving me some … lessons. And let me tell you, that girl…. She’s really good. I mean she bedded Dick and all those tricks she showed me…..” she smirked, letting go of his hands and tracing over his scars, but unlike before this time it was far from sweet, gentle and innocent. This time, her single purpose was to spur him on, tease him, make him burn at her touch and at the single feeling of her body on his.

“I hate you…..” he groaned

“We both know….” She brushed over his crotch “It’s not true.”

“Enough!” he yelled and before she could do as much as let out a single cry he pinned her to the mattress, kissing her with urgency and desire, not stopping to take a break, a breath, nothing. Now he was claiming her, her body, her soul, her mind. She wanted teasing, she should have known it comes with the price and Jason was not going to give up something that was rightfully his.

“Jason!” she moaned, but he was not going to stop for the world, tearing her shirt open, sending the buttons flying all over the room, sucking her skin up, biting, licking and kissing all over her stomach, finally, finally being able to teach her a lesson.

“You brought this on yourself….” He hissed, his mind too consumed by lust to even hear her crying out his name. “you brought this on yourself, princess”.

He was so fucking hungry, starved, deprived of her body, her skin, the taste of her. And his little, pathetic, helpless girlfriend really thought she could keep him on leash.

“poor little stupid girl….” he muttered, scratching her waist and moving hands up, cupping her clothed chest, feeling her body arch and squirm underneath him “I’m not your pet, baby….” He pulled the material of the bra away, revealing her right breast and smirking vindictively at the view of her pebbled nipple. “You planned this, didn’t you?” he muttered, brushing thumb over the sensitive part eliciting a moan and desperate cry of pleasure

“please…..” she begged

“not so nice when you’re the one pleading, is it?” he chuckled cruelly, taking it in his mouth and sucking for a second.

“Jay…..!” she grabbed his head, wanting more, more, more……

“Oh no, princess….” He pulled back, her half exposed, reddened chest abused and neglected “It’s not gonna be that easy…” his eyes glistened in the dark room. In that moment he looked less like a Jason Todd and way more like a Red Hood. Like a predator looking at the helpless prey, baring his teeth and sharpening his claws, getting ready to pounce mercilessly, getting his payback and whatever else he wanted.

“shit….!” She squealedwondering how was it possible that she went from patching him up and getting all scared of hurting him, through absolutely innocent teasing to ending up pinned to the bed in the form of desperate mess, strangely turned on by his fury.

“Yeah, princess…shit, indeed….” Jason repeated, scratching the skin just above the hem of her jeans, one fingers diving down, grabbing the elastic of her panties pulling it up just to let it go and make it snap her skin with a sting.

“Ah..!” she gasped

“Such a naughty, little stupid ungrateful brat….” He climbed on top of her, kissing up her stomach, her chest, her neck, jaw, cheek in a crazy pace, not allowing her to enjoy it, stopping at her lips. “I’ll make you beg for me. How about that? How do you like switching places…..” his mouth hung a few inches above hers, his thumb pressing at her bottom lip, forcing her to open those pretty mouth he was imagining somewhere else doing something different. “How about that, princess?” he asked again, his breath enveloping her face, clouding her senses, causing her to close her eyes. “Answer me, baby or might have to punish you….”

“Jason….” She moaned, not sure if she was enjoying this side of him or not. It was the first time in their relationship when he pushed him so far to actually make him this… vicious… this dominant.

“Answer me, princess…..” he muttered, grabbing both her hands and pinning them above her head “How do you like that?” he bit her neck. Once, twice, three times, each time harder than before.

“I…..ah… shit… Jace….!” At this point she knew – she was definitely enjoying him like this.

“Cat got your tongue, baby?”

“You’re so mean to me….” she moaned at another bite, this time on her shoulder.

“And yet….” One of his hands left her wrist, travelling down her body, tracing over each of her curved and digging inside her pants, moving the material of the panties away “you’re so wet…..” he whispered into her ear “what were you thinking, beautiful? What sort of crazy fantasies are there in your head, little one? Do you wish me to touch you….?” his finger brushed over hersensitive, swollen clit. “you want me touch you like that?”

“Yes,….shit… yes, yes…..” poor Y/N thought she was a begging mess before but Jason was clearly just beginning to have his fun with her. “please…..” she struggled against his grip.

“funny how the tables turned, isn’t it?” he muttered, nuzzling nose into her neck.

“Todd…..” she tried her best to make her voice stern and serious, but it came as desperate and whiny.

“Yeah, baby….? Is there something you want?” he asked calmly, his tone a contract to the way he was rubbing her clit faster and more intensely, enjoying the sounds coming from her mouth, becoming less human by a second turning into a desperate wail of tortured animal.

“please, please… please….!” Her hips buckled off the bed, her body begging for more.

“Nah…. I don’t think you’ve learned your lesson yet, love.” He retrieved his hand from her pants.

“Jason….!” She looked into his eyes, her gaze broken, hair a mess, lips chapped, cheeks reddened.

“God, your such a mess…..” Jason smirked, but the way she was looking at him with so much love, trust and vulnerability got him crumbling a bit. “Beg for me…..”

“I need you….” She whimpered “I need you, only you, just you. Please……?”

“Y/N…… my love……. You were a brat……. Admit it now…..” her voice, her eyes, her whispering, her begging…. He was slipping back into her, getting lost in her. He enjoyed having her under his control, but it was never his intention to push her further than she could take. Y/N had a little less experience than him and Jason was just trying to show her different way of things. To educate her, if you may.

But.

No matter how much he tried to dominate her, to punish and take what he wanted he just…. couldn’t.

He couldn’t be forceful on Y/N. His love, his one and only, his sweet, pretty girl. He wanted to protect her, love her, cherish her. Give her all the sweet loving she was missing through her entire life. Never hurt her. Never.

Unless she asked him too.

Spicing things up was good sometimes, but the tears in her eyes told him clearly enough she was on the verge. And Jason was not going to make her break and burst out crying during sex. Not with him. Not on his watch.

Never.

“Y/N…… baby…..” he let go of both of her wrists, reddened and swollen from the tight grip. “I love you….. I love you…..”

“I love you too, Jace,…. Please… please…..”

“Shhhh…. “ he caressed her head kissing her softly, reassuringly “I got you baby…. I got you… I’ll take care of you… Just promise….” He bit on her bottom lip “promise you won’t tease me again…..”

“Promise….” She whimpered, wrapping arms around his back, scratching his shoulder blades, dragging her nails down his body.

“I’m gonna pretend I believe you……” Jason whispered, too lost in his craving to say anything else and to control himself anymore.

It only took him a second to unclasp her bra, exposing her breast fully, licking, sucking, grazing his teeth over it, letting himself enjoy her hands in his hair, tugging, pulling, scratching, but not stopping there. His mouth moved lower, swiftly and capably sliding her jeans down, removing her soaked panties, spreading her legs and licking his lips at the view.

“Y/N……” his tongue moved to the place where she needed him ‘mmhmh… god….my favourite meal of the day…….”

“No…..” she whispered, pulling him back up by his healthy shoulder.

“what do you mean no?” he kept on lapping and sucking, swirling his tongue “your words don’t match your body movements….”

“I need you….”

“You have me baby…..” he licked all the way from her slit to clit making her moan and squirm again, more desperately than ever before “can’t stop me now…..”

“I want you….ah… ah…” her voice became desperate when those long, thick fingers complemented tongue movements, pumping in and out, doing it with ease with the amount of juices she already produces for him. “I want you… in….in…fuck…!”

“Inside?” he smirked, picking up the pace, knowing exactly what she was begging for. She nodded her body tensing and sweating like crazy. Yes, she wanted him inside but with the way he was making her feel at the moment, bringing her closer and closer to release, she was slowly starting to not give a fuck how he would make her come. The only thing she cared about was to come at all, fingers, tongue, dick, whatever. And she was silently praying he wouldn’t fall back into that sadistic attitude and keep on edging her endlessly.

“Jace…. “ she spread her legs wider, opening herself to him fully, her body acting on its own.

He looked up from between her legs, his gaze hazy, desperate, filled with so much lust, passion and craving it made her shudder. In this state he was definitely notgoing to edge her and they both knew it. Their eyes met only for a second before he got back to eating her up in that way only he knew how, fast, hard, hitting all the right places in the perfect pace.

“Yes….!” She cried out, when her climax started to build, his fingers digging into her hips causing pain and pleasure and confirming her belief she would sport bruises next day. “Yes… yes…!” she moaned more and more, grabbing his hands and putting them on her breasts again, allowing him to touch, squeeze, scratch and twist the flesh to his liking. “Yes….Jason…!”

He groaned and his voice reverberated through her whole body, making her scream his name , her body arching, hips moving off her bed as she was practically fucking herself on his face. Greedy, selfish little girl, craving the pleasure, the release, being so close, so fucking close she could almost touch it.

“Yes…. Yes… yes….!” Jason heard her sounds in the very core of his soul and body, picking up the pace more and more and more and more, not stopping. He could suffocate like this, die like this if it meant tasting her for the last time in his life. He grabbed her breast harder, digging his tongue deeper. It was not about her anymore, it was about satiating his hunger, his craving, his desire.

And then….

It felt like someone turned off the world that stopped existing.

It was only him.

And her.

Nothing more.

Her brain shut down when she came as intensely as never before, squirting hard, body tensing, releasing, bursting into sweat, shivering and shaking in no more than ten seconds. Oh, he prepped her so good and apparently a bit of roughness only added to the pleasure and the sensation.

“Jason…..” she breathed out heavily, her eyes closed as she tried to reach for his face blindly.

“I’m here, baby….” His voice came somewhere from above her, but before she could open her eyes and look at him, Jason pressed his lips to her, helping her to calm down and come back to reality, but also allowing her to taste herself. “I got you…. I got you, princess. It’s okay.. You’re safe. You’re mine, I’m here.”

“Mhmhm…..”was all she could reply, too lost in the sensation.

“How you feel?” he asked softly, pulling her to him, holding and caressing her back. He was going to clean her up in a second but for now she needed cuddles. She needed his warm embrace. And he was going to shower her with the aftercare. “I wasn’t too rough right?”

“At first.. maybe a little…..” she sighed, finally opening her eyes and meeting his gaze. His chin was glistening. “but it was worth it….” She smiled, wiping her own juices from his face “apparently….” They both chuckled.

“Do you remember what you promised me, though?” Jason smirked pulling her closer and ruffling her hair affectionately.

“are you serious?” she snickered “I’ve just barely recollected my last name! Of course I don’t remember what I said while being desperate for you!”

“Desperate, huh?” he raised an eyebrow. “Can you repeat that so I can record for my spank bank? Y/N Y/L/N was desperate for me….”

“Shut up!” she blushed punching his healthy arm.

“Make me, princess.” Jason grabbed her hand and looked into her eyes. “You promised not to tease me, let me refresh your memory.”

“Did I really?” she frowned

“Yeah, really…..”

“What if I crossed my fingers?” she sat on the bed, wriggling out of his embrace, looking down at him with a smirk, her naked body so close to his. “What if I lied?”

“then we need another lesson to eradicate that terrible habit of yours….” he grabbed her waist and pulled her on top of him “I’m not in a hurry and that means you’re not going anywhere….” He bit her lip, his eyes glistening with the same greedy glow as before.

Round two.

#jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #jason todd smut #red hood smut #jason todd fluff #red hood fluff #jason todd x y/n #red hood x y/n #jason todd x you #red hood x you #jason todd x oc #red hood x oc #jason todd fanfiction #red hood fanfiction

491 notes · View notes

shirefantasies · 9 months ago

Note

Hiii!!! I love your works so so much, you're truly amazing!! I would like to make a request if that's fine with you. I would like to request Thorin's company with a reader that is afraid of heights. You don't have to do it if you don't want to, it was just a stupid idea that crossed my mind. If you do decide to do it, take as much time as you want and thank you so so much!! Again love your works, your way of writing and the way you portray the characters!!

Thanks pal 🥰 for your kind words and for being one of the longest-standing members of this blog's taglist! It's funny because someone else sent this in for LoTR a while back so it is not at all stupid, quite a common ask~

Warnings: canon typical peril, suggestive jokes in one

Thorin's Company + Your Fear of Heights

Balin

“Look at the river,” Balin encourages, taking your arm, “a fair chance we are not to see it like this again, after all!” You hesitantly hum at his side, and that is when he looks over to see your tightly shut eyes and stiff posture, your hands firm and flat against the great eagle’s soft, downy feathers. “We’re safe now,” he tells you quietly, scooting into your side. The warmth of his coat brings some comfort, but not enough for you to open your eyes, even if they shine red beneath your crushing lids. “This does not feel safe,” you reply, your voice barely exceeding a whisper. Balin does not fight, does not argue, presumably continues enjoying whatever view you did not doubt was beautiful. You simply cannot appreciate it. “I understand,” he replies, running a soothing hand up and down your back, “and I’m here. I’ll hold you down.”

Dwalin

“I bet you’ve never been afraid a day in your life.” Those were the words that set the conversation- or challenge, more like- flying between you and Dwalin, both of you huddled near the smoldering remains of your earlier fire on watch of camp. Hazes of fatigue descended upon both of your heads as you spoke, your musing bringing quite a surprise to Dwalin, who immediately sat up straighter and fixed you with surprise. “Are you mocking me?” “No,” you shrugged, shaking your head, “I simply could not imagine what that would be. It is quite difficult to picture you afraid.” It was your turn to be surprised as Dwalin’s expression softened far beyond what you were used to. “Even the greatest of warriors have them. I, then, am far from an exception.” “What is it, then?” “Pardon.” “Your fear,” you lit up, “is it the ocean? Dogs? Speaking to a crowd?” “Why are you selecting such ridiculous-” “You’re dodging,” you teased, “Thought you might be embarrassed.” “I’m not,” he crossed his arms, “Tell me yours and I shall share mine.” “Fine,” you replied with a shrug, “I am terrified of heights. Fell off a roof as a little one. …long story.” “That… makes a lot of sense.” “Hey, now what is that supposed to mean?”

Thorin

In all honesty, you’d expected the king to have no patience for such matters. You had avoided mentioning your phobia to any of the company for that exact reason, in fact. No more reason given for Thorin to see you as a liability, an outsider. At least until the booms of thunder, the slick of rain and your cold sweat alike as you slid along cliffs, eyes closed and then squeezed so shut your skin warmed and almost burned. Great stone giants you stood upon, legs rising and sending you swinging out wildly, unable to stifle your scream. As the giant slowed, having been struck by a massive rock, you were righted again, and feeling a hand tighten about your shoulder you turned around, expecting to see fatherly Gloin or Balin and instead almost starting at the sight of Thorin there behind you. “I can tell you fear the precipice. Stay here and no harm will come to you.” Your lips parted wordlessly, unable to form a sound beneath the thrum of blood in your ears, the heat creeping to your face, the echo of shattering stone still reverberating through your whole body. As if he heard you regardless, Thorin added, “I promise.”

Oin

“You’re sweating. Do you have a fever?” “No, Oin, I’m fine,” you replied, shaking your head. “Are you certain? For I’ve got quite the concoction- two in fact! One you put on and one you put in. Yourself, that is. You drink it, you see.” “I gathered.” You mustered a smile, but it was halfhearted and, judging by Oin’s expression, obviously so. “No need to be proud. Come on. I’m the one who can help you. And trust me, I’ve seen it all!” Oin was right. A fear of heights was far less embarrassing than all the accidents you imagined dwarves got into. Bofur alone had plenty such stories. “To be honest, it simply is this climb,” you nodded to the foot of the mountain, the great steps you’d heard so much about- and stars, they were nothing like the steps in your old home! “Afraid of heights?” You nodded in reply and the healer’s bearded face burst open in sympathy. “Well, that’s more than understandable! Seen plenty of- Ahem,” he cleared his throat, “Well, that is to say you’re not alone. I’ll let you in on a little secret- from what I hear, it took Kili years before he’d even get on a ladder! ‘N he’s a prince! You’ve nothing to worry about. I can give you something to calm you down as we speak, and beside that I can stay by you every step of the way. How’s that?” “That’ll be great,” you smile, “Thank you, Oin.”

Gloin

“What d’you think you’re doing? …Rotation my arse, send someone else if you’d like to avoid discussing this with the business end of my axe!” What was going on? Emerging from the brush, you followed the sound of Gloin’s voice, the volume of which had steadily been increasing, to see him glaring with all intents of intimidation at Dwalin of all people. As much as you knew you should step in and resolve any tension, you couldn’t deny your amusement. Kindling in arm, you shook your head fondly at the scene before you. Ever since he found out you were afraid of heights, rather than mock you as you’d half expected the dwarves to Gloin had made it his personal mission to swoop in and lobby for you whenever the opportunity availed itself. Such as climbing trees for watch. Muttering, Dwalin walked away with a shrug and a roll of his eyes, and you took your own opportunity to set the kindling down and sneak up behind Gloin to pull him into a hug.

Bifur

Snapping jaws narrowly missed the edges of your legs. Wargs ran to the feet of the trees, standing against the trunks and trying in vain to pull you down. They were coming closer than they should have, though, one even catching a dangling strap from your boot and tearing the buckle on it clean off. Jumping at a tap on your shoulder, you swiveled your head and peered up, admittedly a bit relieved to forget you were above ground, even if it was not by much. Bifur had gotten your attention and was urgently circling his hand, encouraging you to go further up to his branch. You shook your head. “I am fi-” SNAP! The moment you attempted to defend yourself was the moment the branch at your side was ripped off, scrabbling claws following its descent. Another tap to your shoulder, this time with the hand groping down to find yours and pry its fingers from their death grip on your branch. “What are you doing?” You hissed, panicking at your loosening grip, but your complaint was quieted when Bifur yanked you up against his chest and held you there fast. He muttered something in Khuzdul and while you weren’t certain what, his tone alone soothed you a bit more, keeping you in place there with your rapid heartbeat against his.

Bofur

“What’s the matter, no foothold? These hills can be a bit slippery, can’t they? Pesky when it’s so far to fall, pesky indeed.” “Bofur,” you breathe, voice wavering as you near tears. The sheer desperation in your voice shakes the hatted dwarf to his senses, his eyes and smile softening and falling as if seeing you for the first time. “Hey now, you’ll be all right. Thorin put you in the middle on purpose. So many hands here to catch you. ‘Sides that, I’m right here next to you, and you know I’ll always protect you, right?” Smiling faintly, you nod, eyes still blurred faintly with the sheen of tears. Strength renewed slightly, your hands dig even tighter into the rough stone and with all your might, you pull up to the next ledge. “See, there you are! Before we know it you’ll be outclimbing us all,” Bofur teases, leaning over and gently bumping your shoulder with his. “Bofur!” You squeal. “Oh, yes, right, sorry! Say, why don’t we just talk about the weather instead?”

Bombur

“I can’t.” “You must,” Bombur insisted, always-gentle voice even quieter than usual. Groaning beneath the weight of your bodies, the great pine you’d been forced to climb bent further. “If we don’t, who knows what’ll happen to us. I’m scared, too.” The shocks running through your heart calmed slightly at the sight of his soft eyes. “Who wouldn’t be scared of jumping off a cliff?” “Fili ‘n Kili, probably.” “You’re right,” you giggled, delaying the inevitable that much further.” “Why don’t we go together. See, just because we’re both ‘fraidy cats, you know?” Bombur sounded so… shy? He truly meant it, not that you doubted his sincerity much- a more sincere dwarf could scarcely be found. “Of course,” you replied, and beaming, he took your hand. “Just close your eyes. Trust the wizard. You’ll be alright if I have anything to say about it.”

Dori

“Is this truly necessary?” “Unfortunately that is the best way to keep things away from bears. Awful creatures trying to spoil our picnic!” “This is no picnic, Dori,” you giggled, “on account of we’re on a perilous journey? If you remember.” “Yes, yes,” he waved the hand that was free of the bundle, “but I will suffer much before I go this whole mess without doing something for you. Now Bilbo was kind enough to lend this food…” “You lot stole it, didn’t you?” Dori pointedly ignored you. “Be a dear and climb up to that branch with the rope,” he requested, pointing up into the tree and sending a wave of apprehension straight through you. “Can I hold it?” You asked, shuffling your feet. “Please?” Dori inhaled. He frowned slightly. His frown softened almost immediately at your slight pout. His shoulders deflated, hand loosening about the bundle. “Very well. You certainly are lucky to be so adorable.”

Nori

“Come on, let’s have a look at the stars, huh?” Something about Nori’s tone, a sort of provocation you hope to be deciphering correctly, has you shying your eyes away from the smooth-talking dwarf, hands behind your back as you nod. “That’s a good’n,” he smiles proudly, grabbing your hand tightly, a bit harshly even as he tugs you outside. Your gaze drifts up, but Nori tilts it back down to face him. “Not out here!” You are puzzled, tilting your head back at him. Rivendell’s garden is the most beautiful you’ve seen, a perfect little gazebo to sit under surrounded by pure white flowers and vines that reach up to the very stars upon which you wish to gaze. “Elrond can’t mind too much if we get a bit closer, after all, can he? Those elves love the stars as much as anything, after all.” You see now that he is motioning up to the roof of the enclave set aside for you all to stay, a conveniently flat expanse granted access to only by a risky-looking trellis. Nori wants to climb that with you. All the blood drains from your face at the very sight, the mental image of your shoes slipping from the hole, tumbling you back into the… “What’s the matter, hm? Scared? Afraid of getting trapped up there with me? I promise I won’t bite…unless you ask me to, of course.” His joke brings you back to your senses, out of the unexpected tenderness and back to your usual joking. “What’s the matter with you?” You shoot back. “Can’t get excited without being imperiled?” Cackling, Nori lets you slide, instead winding an arm about your waist and sweeping an arm, letting you lead him to the gazebo bench. “Got me there.”

Ori

“What’s the matter?” Ori ponders your name so sweetly it almost cuts through your fear. “Isn’t it wonderful?” ‘It’ being the view from, at least in your mind, the most precarious parapet in the whole kingdom of Erebor. “I see even more now why we were fighting for this,” he adds, smile growing and wonder positively glowing in his big brown eyes. In almost hilarious contrast, you struggle to feign a smile, fingers tightening around the wall’s edge like a lifeline. Which it quite literally is. It isn’t that high. You can simply take one step, no, two, and go tumbling off the whole of the mountain- The sound of your name cuts off your dread-laced internal ramblings, shaking you back to Ori, to feeling him take hold of your upper arm. “Are you alright? I can see your face, you look so-” Cutting off his desperation, the way he clearly is searching for a kind way to say it, you just sigh and answer him. “You were so excited to show me, I didn’t have the heart to tell you that, well, I have quite the fear of heights.” Ori’s jaw positively drops as he surges back, taking you away from the railing like it’ll burn you. “I’m so sorry, you never told me! How was I to know? Why, here you’ve been just-” You forget your fear entirely in favor of giggling at Ori’s kind reaction. You should have known better than to fear what he would say! “How about we go to the library instead?” Ori offers, hand still on your arm. “I’d like that,” you answer with a smile.

Fili

“Don’t let him catch me telling you this, but do you realize Kili used to have such a bad fear of heights he wouldn’t even set foot on a ladder?” Fili snickered to you, leaning with his arm along the back of your chair. “And that is supposed to be funny?” You replied, eyes wide and one brow raised. All attempts not to show your true thoughts- would Fili think you a fool? “Of course it was! I couldn’t even persuade him into the attic for all the deal it was,” the elder prince answered with a smile of great amusement. Pulling away from his warm proximity, you wrapped an arm around yourself instead. “And why was he wrong to fear harm? To- to avoid doing something he didn’t even need to do? Have you never felt the creeping of dread, of crushing danger?” Sitting back himself, Fili raised his hands defensively. “I’m sorry. I just thought it was funny the way he’d only put a toe up on it. You feel the same, do you not?” You nodded and he shifted back forward to put a hand on your shoulder. “Nothing wrong with that. I swear I won’t laugh about it again.”

Kili

For so-called ‘steps’, this climb certainly was involving your entire body, all of you company members heaving yourselves over each one and you suppressing a whimper at each slip and grind of your boot against smoothened stone. Why did the dwarves have to build their kingdoms so again? Sliding back, you winced, cringing back even harder when Fili playfully nudged you with his elbow. “Careful you don’t- oops!” He seemed to stumble back and fall, bringing you to cry out his name until he popped back up with a grin and laughter. “Quit that!” Kili stepped back down, making his way in between you two. “You’re really scared, aren’t you?” Nodding, you shied away at the way he wrapped an arm around your shoulders. “Don’t worry,” he spoke your name softly, “mean old Fili’s going to apologize, isn’t that right?” “I’m not a child,” you teased, “I just…hate the thought of falling. Of my feet wavering and giving out.” “Understandable,” Fili added, lowering his head, “I promise I won’t actually lay a hand upon you. No more jokes. For once, Kili’s right.” Smiling again, you allowed Kili to guide you up, one hand protectively over the small of your back. “You just wanted to play the hero.” You heard Fili hiss to his brother behind your back, shakily grinning at his words.

Bilbo

“We need to get out of here. Come on.” The hobbit whispers your name urgently, extending and waving his hand at you. How you have managed to avoid losing your mind completely is what you can only imagine to be a testament to your luck. But Bilbo? You had completely lost track of him and now he’s here before you, gripping a tree branch and pleading with those shining grey eyes. This forest has your head spinning, but those eyes are an anchor, something you can focus on for once. Your heart moves, but your body remains in place, blood rushing to your face and slamming chest. “I- I-” What can you say? “Please,” Bilbo adds, “I don’t want to lose you, too. We need air. You must come with me to clear our heads.” Blinking, you look back and forth. Did you need to? Wait, need to what? “Please,” Bilbo begs again, “I’m afraid too. But it won’t be so bad if we’re together, right? I would never let you fall.” The way he begs, says your name so carefully yet so intently, has you nodding and taking his hand, smiling faintly at the warm grip. “Let’s go.”

Taglist: @lokilover476 @kilibaggins @mossthebogwitch @ibabblealot @stormchaser819 @pirate-lord-of-narnia @datglutengoblin @letmelickyoureyeballs @mossyskinn @wordbunch @tiny-and-witchy @th3-st4r-gur1 @fleurdemiel-145 @mistresskayla-blog1 | Reply/Message/Ask to join 🩷

153 notes · View notes

acourtofchaos · 2 months ago

Note

👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀 PLS SHOW ME

Since you asked so nicely lol (and also put up with me not finishing a thing) here's a slightly long snippet from my mattheo love language fic 🖤

Maybe that was why he did what he did next.

He hadn’t wanted to momentarily lose his head, to let the slightest hint that you had any effect on him slip.

But it had been endless minutes of you having to adjust how you were sat, endless minutes of you brushing against him and setting fireworks off beneath his skin every time your legs started to ache from how they were dangling awkwardly off the arm of the chair and– jesus christ, you were doing it again–

“Can you stop moving for five fucking seconds.” Mattheo hissed.

Surprise had rolled off you in waves, your eyes wide and startled at how fast he had whipped his head to snap at you. It knocked something in his chest, the way you were staring at him, alarmed, cautious, as if you’d suddenly remembered every bad thing you’d ever heard about the boy you’d been sitting so close to and expected for him to bare his teeth next and sink them to the bone.

It made him instantly feel like the worst person in the world.

Guilt surging up so fast that his stomach lurched uncomfortably with it.

What the hell was happening to him?

“I’m sorry,” you began, slowly twisting your body away from his as if you were worried the slightest touch could set him off again, inching almost entirely off the arm like you intended to slip from it and drift back into the same crowd you’d so suddenly appeared from. Fleeing fast and far away from him. “I just couldn’t get comfortable, I’ll move, I’m s–”

Mattheo caught at your wrist before you could finish, a gentle touch that you could break from without trying if you wanted to, and he didn’t dare to examine the relief that swept airily through his chest when you didn’t. Choosing instead to look down at him and wait, watching with curious eyes the way he swallowed hard, choking down frustration and pride, before speaking.

"Don’t apologise to me, I was being a dick, I’m sorry,” He murmured awkwardly. “Stay, if you still want to.”

After a hesitant moment you nodded despite him fully expecting you to shove him away, to scoff at him and call him every name he had heard a million times before from others he had lashed out at with no clear reason, and Mattheo couldn’t help but be stunned as you wiggled your wrist from his grip and replaced it with your fingers.

Floored by the sweet smile you gave him whilst using his hold to steady yourself back into the perched position at his side.

He ignored the way Theo was now blatantly watching you both, a look of disbelief on his charming features whilst Pansy, beside him, smirked at the curl of his hand around yours knowingly.

He let go the second you were reseated and hid the flex of his hand behind reaching for the two drinks on the table that he’d brought over for himself, the whiskey inside glinting beneath the pulsing lights and the glass wet with condensation.

He offered the untouched one to you, smiling as he did so like it was some kind of peace offering, some kind of good-natured dare to sit and let your guard down, playing friends with the very people you had spent years avoiding like the plague.

You took it with a softly uttered ‘thank you’ and then swallowed a dramatically heavy gulp as your eyes bore into his, matching his challenge in such a way that Mattheo couldn’t help but laugh, sudden and delighted. The sound of it effectively shattering the last of the awkward tension that had ballooned around you both.

“So what are you doing here?” He eventually asked, voice playful despite his taunting, like he was trying to make it obvious that he wasn’t being an arsehole about your noticed absence from almost anything to do with your own house.

He was just intensely curious, the question burning through him from the moment he’d seen you suddenly looking like Enzo’s best friend in the whole fucking world. “I thought you were too good and pure to be around the likes of us.”

You made a face, not offended but nose still wrinkling at how he’d worded it. The thought that people had gotten that impression of you.

“I never thought that.” You told him seriously, a touch guiltily, before your features melted into a fond smile and you tilted your head in the direction of where Enzo was rambling rather animatedly at a weary looking Tom. “But to answer your question, he’s been harping on at me for weeks to make an appearance. I thought I’d finally make his wish come true and see what I’ve been missing.”

Mattheo snorted and the sound made you smile wider, eyes flickering over him like you were enjoying this side of the boy you’d never been close enough to know before. “And what do you think so far?” He mused, smirking before a little frown appeared in the dip between his brows as he caught the way you winced a little in discomfort and had to shift your legs again. “Is it everything you ever dreamed of?”

Your gaze shone at him before you were ducking your head to stifle a laugh that made his chest go warm. Only just managing to look half serious when you looked at him again before nodding sagely. “Oh absolutely, I’m devastated that this is what I’ve been kept away from all this time. It’s a tragedy, honestly.”

“It is. You’ve never gotten to witness Theo standing on a table at 3am, sounding like a strangled cat whilst belting out Celine Dio–”

“-I’ll have you know I am a wonderful singer.” The boy in question interjected lazily, not even attempting to disguise the fact that he had been listening the entire time as he lifted his head from where it rested to glare mildly at Mattheo before dropping it back and closing his eyes. “If you want to hear it, dolcezza, you only have to ask.”

Mattheo shook his head and made an exasperated noise in the back of his throat, disturbed by the thought, whilst you bit down another laugh. Cheeks appling with the force of your smile when you turned to Nott and told him. “I’ll keep that in mind, thank you, Theodore.”

"Anytime.”

#wip game #mattheo riddle wip #mattheo riddle x reader #i actually love this one i really need to finish it

53 notes · View notes

hannibals-favourite-meal · 1 year ago

Note

Congratulations on 5k

Could you do 6 and 16 for Orm if he's not allowed Steve.

.⋆｡Dosage｡⋆.

Orm Marius x plus size reader

You get stuck babysitting the Ocean Master, you should’ve guessed that he would stir up some trouble

Warnings: sex pollen so little bit of dub-con, mention of tranquilisers and death, Batman not being helpful, swearing, no smut but nudity and implied smut

Minors DNI

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

5k Follower Celebration

You wondered what you did to warrant this terrible punishment. The lab was silent, your music having been forcefully turned off by your employer an hour before and you were pinned to your seat by the icy blue eyes of your charge.

Babysitting, that’s what you had been reduced to. It’s not like your three PHDs could be put to better use than making sure Arthur’s brother didn’t wander off and get himself into trouble. You rationalised that you could deal with it fine as long as he kept his mouth shut and his hands to himself but evidently the ex King of Atlantis had a serious staring problem and it was so much more distracting than if he had been chatting your ear off.

Sighing heavily, your head dropped between your shoulders and you pulled your glasses off your nose. “Do you really have to stare at me the whole time like some kind of fucking vouyer?” Orm huffed, finally looking away and giving you a chance to observe the Atlantian.

There was no doubt that he was beautiful, with a chilled jaw, perfect skin, fluffy blond hair and a body that would rival Michelangelo’s David but as soon as he opened his mouth, all that beauty melted away. He was arrogant and entitled and for some damn reason he refused to let you work in peace.

“You should be honoured to be in my presence human.” Your eye twitched in annoyance. Breathe Y/N, breathe. You told yourself. You crossed your legs and shot Orm a look that would’ve had Batman shaking in his boots.

“Just- find something else to do and let me work, please.” He raised a dark brow at you but nodded anyway. His muscles rippled beneath the compression shirt he had been given upon his arrival to the tower. You forced yourself to look away and back to your work. “All I need is an hour and then we can find something productive for you to do.”

He hummed noncommittally, which you were perfectly fine with.

The lab settled into a blissful silence and you were finally, thankfully, able to really plug into the data analysis that you had been putting off. Occasionally, you could see the disgraced prince out of the corner of your eye as he wandered around the lab, his hands clasped behind his back. He could follow directions well, you would give him that.

You didn’t mind the company, now that he was not staring at you like a fucking creep, in fact he was quite comforting considering you spent most days in complete isolation save for when Batman needed yet another project completed.

Just as you were reaching the final compiling, Orm’s voice rang through the lab as if he were commanding his people. “What the fuck is sex pollen?” Your entire body seized with fear and as you turned your chair to face him, time slowed.

His large hand had turned one of the many labelled specimen jars in the open cabinet at the other end of the lab, the cabinet that you had forgotten to lock when Bruce had barged in earlier. Your eyes widened almost comically as the delicate jar tipped and the neon pink dust gathered to one side. Orm tried to grab the sealed beaker but the glass was already rolling off the shelf.

Your hand was already moving towards the contamination shut down as the container met the solid ground, shattering immediately.

The pollen exploded outwards, coating everything within 2 metres of the impact point in a bright pink dust. Orm coughed and tried to wipe it from his skin, but the pollen was already soaking in, quickly making its way into his bloodstream.

The lab doors slammed shut and the industrial strength locks clicked into place. You yanked a medical mask from your workstation and quickly tugged it on as you rushed towards Orm, whose face was now flushed. His chest was already heaving with laboured breaths and as you drew closer, you could see the sweat collecting on his brow.

“Hey, I need you to listen to me very carefully right now.” His gaze snapped to you and you held up your hands to show that you weren’t a threat. “We can fix this, we just have to work together. Understand?” He nodded his head and you sighed in relief.

“I need you to strip off your clothes, the longer you’re in them, the more pollen you’ll ingest. And then I’m putting you in the decontamination shower until I figure out how this is going to fuck with your fishy DNA.” You expected some fight out of the prince but he followed your directions to the letter, his eyes staring intently into your own.

You were thankful for your mask concealing your face as he pulled off his shirt, exposing the toned muscles of his stomach. You swallowed thickly, heat defiantly pooling between your thighs as his thumbs hooked into the waistband of his sweatpants and yanked them down. Evidently, Atlantians didn’t wear underwear. He leaned closer to you, his nostrils flaring.

Orm’s eyelids fluttered as he let out the most erotic groan you had ever heard. “Fuck, why do you smell so fucking good?” You hated to admit it, but your knees buckled at that. Swallowing down the whine that threatened to spill from your lips, you pulled yourself together.

“O-okay now, into the shower.” You nodded your head towards the stall in the corner of the lab but Orm remained still. His breathing was quickening and his pupils were blown, leaving only a sliver of blue around the black. You stepped in that direction but still, he refused to follow.

“Goddamnit.” You muttered and grabbed his muscular shoulder, forcefully yanking him to the stall and quickly shoving him inside before he had a chance to refuse. You locked the door, knowing that there was no possible way for him to drown himself, and started the auto decontamination.

As soon as he lost sight of you, Orm gave a shout of protest and slammed his fists against the door. “No! Come back!” The glass trembled with the force of his blows and if it weren’t for Bruce’s tendency to make everything strong enough to hold Clark back for a minute at least, you would have been scared of it shattering.

You carefully walked backwards to your desk, your eyes locked onto the shower which was now running but it was doing nothing to hinder the man inside. In fact, his efforts to get out doubled as the water hit his overheated skin. “You’re mine!” He screamed and a crack appeared in the glass.

You snatched up the phone that directly connected you to Bruce, pressing it to your ear as you continued to back up. As soon as you heard his gruff voice, you shouted at him. “Orm ingested that sex pollen shit from Ivy, what the fuck do I do?”

There was a pause and for a second you thought the line had dropped. Then he sighed heavily into the receiver. “Fuck. The antidote you developed won’t work on him since he doesn’t have any human DNA and his body won’t burn out the pollen fast enough before his system overheats.” Silence settled between you as the solution dawned on both of you at the same time. “So-“

“So I’ll have to help him through it or he dies.” You finished his thought for him.

“I’m sorry kid.” Then the call cut off. Orm threw his body at the door and another crack appeared. You had a choice here, there was a tranquiliser in the drawer of your desk that could put down Flash, you could wait for the door to shatter and use it against the raging prince. Or…

Your mask dropped to the floor, along with your shirt and pants. His shouts had now devolved into unintelligible growls that only served to make your inner thighs even wetter. By the time you reached the shower, the frosted glass now resembled a spider’s web and you were completely bare.

You hit the override switch to the side of the stall and the screaming stopped. The damaged tracks groaned as the door slowly opened, revealing you to Orm once more. “Take what you need, I only want to help.”

The air was knocked from your lungs as strong arms grabbed you and pulled you into the shower with him. Cold water washed over your naked body though it did nothing to lessen the fire between you. A moan was forced from your lips as Orm ducked down and buried his nose in the crook of your throat, pressing his hard body to your soft one.

His chest rumbled happily as he inhaled. “I will not be gentle, I cannot. But once this curse has passed, I will treat you like a goddess, a queen.” His tongue licked up the column of your neck until he could rise to his full height once more. “You will experience pleasure like never before, my claim will be laid upon you.”

And you could only nod as his large warm hand gripped your knee tightly, bringing your plump leg up to wrap around his lean hips. “Prepare yourself for your king.”

DC Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Join my taglist!

All works

@im-a-slut-for-fluff @alexxavicry @ravenwings73 @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @silverfire475 @psychadelichues @mvyalx @faefanatic @evansqueen54 @anamiad00msday @th3slothy @princess76179 @Lanielagenev @luvvvjada @Lucypaulette @midnight-shadow-va @mooniequeen @slutfor-fictionalmen @km-ffluv

@snedhdh @kobaltdragon @blackhawkfanatic @8bookishworm8 @honkytonkbabe @certifiedhunter @qardasngan

366 notes · View notes