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always-just-red · 3 months ago

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I've been lookin for a writer who takes reqs for lnds 😭 Can i req sfw hcs/one-shot (choose which one u prefer more) for sylus & fem/gn reader?

I remember there was one call for zayne x mc where mc called zayne accidentally because mc was drunk & mc called zayne (accidentally) instead of booking a cab (mc did book a cab but w/ a wrong destination).

Can i maybe req what if the scenario is like that but it's w/ sylus instead? Feel free to tell me if this req is too much or if u wanna decline it, thanks a lot!

My first Sylus fic! Yay! (Don't look at me Rafayel 🥰) Anon your mind is so powerful! This prompt was so much fun to write, so thank you, hope you enjoy!

Wrong Number

Sylus x Reader 🩸

Summary: You're having a bit of trouble getting hold of that taxi you booked, but more trouble help is on the way...

Genre: fluff, kinda ends on an angsty note (sorry 😇)

Warnings/Additional tags: drunk reader, some swearing, humour, uses of 'sweetie' and 'kitten', threat of violence/death at the start, a slight bit of suggestion (it's Sylus, ok? He's having ✨fun✨)

| Word count: 2k | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

“Mr. Sylus, please! It was an honest mistake— almost indistinguishable from a genuine protocore, I swear!”

Sylus is lounging back in a plush leather armchair, feeling thoroughly short-changed as he turns about a fake protocore with his fingers. He’s been listening to this noise for almost a full minute, growing awfully impatient, though he did like the last excuse.

“Say that again,” he drawls with a sinister smile.

“It was an honest mistake,” the black-market dealer stutters, tripping over his words. “It was almost indistinguishable from a—”

“Almost indistinguishable…” Sylus confirms. “Almost. Almost.” He’s savouring each syllable— tasting them like wine.

“It would have fooled almost anyone!”

“Almost anyone?” Sylus laughs, and it’s a wicked, dangerous thing. “Well yes, I rather think that’s the point. But it didn’t fool just anyone, did it? It fooled you.”

His smile is gone in an instant, his hand closing around the fake protocore, splintering it with a crack. He drops bloodied, sapphire fragments from his palm, red and blue, red and blue, and they skitter across the hardwood floor like rain.

“Please, Mr. Sylus!” the dealer pleads, desperate. “I’ll do anything! I will! I’ll make it up to you!”

“No, thanks.” Sylus studies his palm as it heals. “I’ve had my fill of fake protocores.”

“Sylus!”

The leader of Onychinus stands, drawing his gun with a customary apathy. Dark energy manifests, twisting around the dealer’s limbs, holding him still, while a lone tendril crawls around his mouth, holding him silent. He’s struggling, but he should know better. He should have known better from the very beginning. With a wistful smile, Sylus levels the gun with his head, and—

Something rings.

His red gaze shoots up, instinctively seeking Luke and Kieran, but they shrug from their station at the other side of the room. The sound is closer than that, anyway. Glaringly more familiar. Sylus’s spare hand goes to his pocket, and he draws out his phone.

“Mmm?” he greets, thumb sliding across the screen as he puts it to his ear.

There’s only one person who calls him at this time of night.

“Where are you?” your voice echoes from the other side of the line.

“That’s a question I prefer not to answer without knowing what motivates it.”

“Wha— Sylus?”

“Yes, sweetie,” he drones.

There’s a moment of silence. “Shit.”

It’s not the reaction he aspires to, but you sound agitated, so he’s going to let it slide. There’s a loud crackle from the speaker, followed by a few, harsher sounds, and he pulls the phone away from his ear, wincing slightly. His eyes are trained on the man at his feet, but he lowers his gun, distracted.

“What are you—” he begins, but then he identifies the sound. It’s a finger— your finger— jabbing away at a screen. “If I didn’t know any better, Miss Hunter, I’d say you were trying to get rid of me.”

“No…” you deny too quickly. It’s still there: the tapping. Like Mephisto, pecking furiously at a locked window from outside. A few more jabs, and then…

The call cuts out.

Sylus scoffs, looking down at his now silent phone in disbelief. He flops back into his chair, tossing his gun onto a side table before hitting the button to call you back. You know he’s not a patient man, but you don’t pick up the first time, and so he has to try again. He can be patient for you— he tells himself— as he thinks up some creative ways for you to return the charity. Speaking of charity…

His gaze drops to the dealer. “Get out,” he sneers.

The man doesn’t have to be told twice. He scrambles to his feet as his blood-dark bindings retract, practically throwing himself towards the room’s exit. Luke pushes open the door, the intense music of the nightclub beating through the gap, but Kieran’s being less helpful. He steps into the doorway, blocking any escape. He feints right. Then left. Behind the masks, both men are laughing.

Eventually Kieran steps aside. He shoves the dealer the rest of the way through the door as Luke kicks it shut, and they exchange a high-five.

Sylus pinches the bridge of his nose. His call connects.

“Hello?” You’re back. “Finally! Where are you? I don’t see you.”

“Still me, sweetie.”

“Sylus?” you actually whine. It’s adorable. “Why is it you? Go away.”

“No,” he lilts tunefully, and then he’s coaxing: “I want to help you, kitten. Won’t you let me help you? Tell me, who are you trying to call?”

Frustration spills from you— fake, exaggerated sobs tearing themselves from your throat. “The taxi, Sy,” you whine again. “The stupid taxi, ok? It’s not here. It’s meant to be here.”

“Where’s here?”

“Ha!” you exclaim like you’ve evaded a masterplan, and not a casually asked, run-of-the-mill question. “No. Nice try, but no. You wanna help me?”

“Yeah.”

“Then leave me alone!”

With— he can imagine— some sort of theatrical flourish, you deliver your phone a final, decisive tap. It beckons a fateful silence. Sylus brings his phone in front of his face, unmoved by the moment’s gravitas. There’s a pop-up on the screen. Kitten: requesting video chat.

He smiles to himself. Then accepts. “Hi sweetie.”

Your face is lighting up his screen, your cheeks flushed, your brow furrowed, and your eyes sharp with determination. “Why can I— wait, why can I see you? Get out of my phone, Sy!”

“My, my,” he tuts, but he’s smiling still, “look at you— the illustrious Miss Hunter. It is a relief to know the fate of Linkon rests in such… reliable hands.”

“What d’you mean?” you mumble.

“You’re drunk.”

“You’re drunk!”

He chuckles. “And there’s that infamous wit.”

You bite your lip as you ignore him, still fixated on trying to end the call. It occurs to him that you will eventually succeed; even a broken clock is right twice a day. “Listen to me, sweetie. Are you alone?”

His tone is sober enough for the two of you, and your exasperated eyes meet his. “Yeah.”

“Then be a good girl and send me your location. You remember how to do that, right?” He carefully enunciates each word of his plan. “I’ll come and get you, but I need to know where you are. Don’t go with anyone else. Wait for me, ok?”

You’re nodding away, the odd ‘mmhmm’ escaping your lips, but you’re not at all listening. He catches on after a minute. Trails off— realises your gaze is too vacant, and your focus? Wandering. You’re cradling your phone with both hands. His view is interrupted as your thumb passes over the camera; you’re… stroking the screen?

“You’re so pretty, Sy,” you murmur breathlessly.

His gaze softens. He sighs, “You’re pretty too.”

Then you make a sound he’s never heard before: you squeak, the phone’s audio almost cutting out. A blush is spreading through your cheeks, so much darker than the alcohol’s afterglow, and gods he wishes your face was in his hands. The vision is short-lived, however, because suddenly you’re gone.

There’s a circling view of a dark street, split by streaks of white light, as your phone careens through the air. It strikes concrete a moment later, stuttering to a stop, and Sylus’s grimace deepens with each jarring crack. Your screen has gone black, but he doesn’t think it’s broken. He’s face down, apparently— subjected to an unexciting view of the pavement.

“Oh, shit!” He hears you gasp.

Though your voice is far away, your phone is in your grasp again in no time. You’re turning it over, peering down at him, tracing the outline of his face with worry. “Sorry, Sy. Are you ok?”

“I’ll survive.” He raises an eyebrow. “You know, if you wanted to throw me around, you only needed to ask.”

His voice has dropped, and he loves watching you notice. You stand from your crouch with a smirk, bringing him with you— a dark idea in your eyes. “Wanna go again?”

Before he can protest, he’s looking at the back of your head. Your arm is stretched behind you, gearing up to send him on another short flight.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he interrupts, panicking briefly, but you’d never detect it with all your wits about you, let alone none. He’s brought in front of your face again, and you’re frowning oh so sweetly. “I asked you to do something, remember?”

“You told me to do something.”

So pedantic. “What did I tell you to do, sweetie?”

You don’t say anything. There’s a short huff as you blow hair from your face, and then you’re concentrating. You have that look he likes: the one you get when you’re whittling away at your paperwork like a good little hunter. The same stubborn resolve, too, that makes you lean over it when he or Mephisto are conveniently behind your shoulder.

Your location comes through with a ping and his smile widens. He’s up in a heartbeat, telling you he’s on his way— that you did such a good job— and that you need to stay on the phone with him, ok? He spins his fingers as he passes between Luke and Kieran, a gesture they’ve long grown accustomed to and can easily translate.

I'm leaving. Clean this up.

…

“So then Xavier, like— well, you know Xavier— he was all, ‘I’ll tell you later,’ but he never did, Sy! Off he went, leaving Nero and I to do all the paperwork, and I asked Nero, and Nero was like, ‘ask Xavier yourself’, and I was like, ‘I literally just did!’, and he just shrugged, and it’s… driving me crazy, you know? Because where does he even go? Tara and I have this bet going, she thinks it’s because he—”

Your anecdote comes to a sudden stop.

“What does Tara think, sweetie?”

“Shh shh shh! Wait a second…”

You clutch your phone to your chest like it’ll somehow suppress Sylus’s voice. You’re sat, leaning back against a chain-link fence, but you rise as a black car pulls up in front of you. The windows are tinted. You squint, leaning forward to try to look through them anyway.

“I don’t like this, Sy,” you frown as you plant a hand on your hip. “There’s a car here.”

“Oh?”

“Shh!” you hiss again. It’s not the only car parked on the street, but it is the only one alive. The engine purrs and its lights are glowing like angry embers, refusing to be snuffed out by the dark. You take a step closer, then the engine cuts out. You take a bigger step back.

“What exactly are you afraid of?” Sylus asks, his tone so thick it’s practically bleeding through your phone. “Is a big, bad man trying to get you?”

“Well I don’t know what they look like, Sy. The windows are tinted, and I— AH!” you gasp.

A strong pair of arms wrap around you from behind, lifting you from the ground. “Got you, sweetie,” Sylus chuckles in your ear as tell-tale crow feathers settle around you. His breath is hot on your neck and it tickles, turning your panicked shrieks to laughter.

“Sylus!” you squeal as you attempt to wriggle free. You don’t think you’re trying very hard.

The man lowers you back to your feet, but his arms stay around you and he dips his head, resting his chin on the curve of your shoulder. “Hi,” he whispers.

“Hi.” For a little word, there’s so much fondness.

“Let’s get you home to bed, ok?”

You nod compliantly with a yawn, swaying a little as his arms retract and you’re having to stand on your own again. He chuckles as he steadies you— placing a hand on the top of your head— and you pivot, drawn by the sound. His crimson eyes find yours and they’re dark with something that stirs you, even with your mind swimming and nothing really making sense. You’re not sure of anything at all, except—

No-one has ever looked at you like that before.

And you won’t remember it tomorrow.

“Come on,” he prompts, nudging you towards the car, and you start to walk, though you’re dragging your feet. “I want to hear all of the association’s dirtiest secrets while I still can.”

“Tara has a crush on the new weapon specialist, you know.”

Sylus blinks, then laughs— a tender, comfortable thing. Completely enthralled. “You don’t say,” he beams.

No, you won’t remember it tomorrow.

#🖋rach is actually writing #sylus x reader #sylus #love and deepspace #lads sylus #lnds sylus #l&ds sylus #qin che #sylus x mc #sylus x you #lads x reader #lads #lnds #l&ds

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luveline · 3 months ago

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More spencer x hotch's sister? I love her relationship with hotch so much btw! Maybe spencer learns some of what she went through in her past?

“What did you get Haley for your six months?” you ask.

Aaron shakes his basket of fries. You can smell them from your side of the table, salt and grease from the fryer. He doesn’t need to see you looking, maybe he doesn’t care that you want one or not, he tips half of the basket onto your plate and shrugs. “It was a long time ago, I’m not sure I remember. For our first year together I gave her a promise ring, I think.”

“I don’t think I can get him a promise ring…” You swirl your drink with your straw. Fizzy bubbles rush to the surface. “A ring might be nice, though. Can he wear jewellery in the field?”

“One nondescript ring would be fine.”

“Maybe a necklace.” You stab a few of his given fries on your fork and smile. “I’m very stressed, but he’s been so kind the whole time. He never makes me worry about anything.”

“Spencer is kind.” Aaron glances to the side as a couple sits in the booth opposite. “Admittedly, I was worried. But you’re happy, so I’m happy.”

“Six months is a long time for no fights.”

“Honey, some people don’t fight.”

You toy with a stray piece of lettuce. “I’m really glad that we don’t, but I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

“It won’t drop. You think I’d let you date Spencer if I suspected he was secretly evil?”

“There are a few things wrong with that question…” You wipe your mouth with a napkin. “Okay, it won’t drop. Can we get, um, dessert? Rocky road sundaes?” They’re Aaron’s favourite, so they’re yours, too.

Despite his assurances, you keep waiting for the other shoe to drop. You think about your conversation with Aaron for the days leading up to your six month anniversary with Spencer, which he aptly names your ‘half anniversary’. He doesn’t plan any surprises —he sends you a PDF with different options for everything. Five different restaurants with different options for courses, moods, and settings. There are notes for each place and why you might like them, and there are activities for each one afterwards based on the location. It’s so thoughtful it makes you feel sick. The other shoe looms, and looms.

You choose a smaller restaurant just outside of the busy city, with a beautiful outdoor eating area on a stone veranda. It’s lively but not crowded, secluded but not completely private.

Spencer tucks your seat in, and he kisses your cheek before he takes his own. When he does, he looks across the table at you, and says, “Wow, you’re so pretty.”

“You think so?”

“You’re beautiful.” He gives you one of his not so shy, almost cheesy smiles, like he wants to laugh. “Do you want your gift now or later?”

“Is it rude to say I want it now?”

“No, it’s not rude. I’ll feel better once I know you like it.”

He presents you with a box wrapped in dark blue crepe paper and rounded silver star stickers. There’s twine wrapped around it and bowed, too beautiful to want to open. You look between him and the present in awe. “This is real pretty,” you say softly.

“It’s nicer inside,” he says.

You unravel the twin carefully, and you take off the paper to reveal a large, flat box. You put the paper in your jacket pocket, folded primly to keep. Spencer waits patiently.

You press your thumbnail into the box’s seam and push.

It’s four pieces of jewellery. What catches your eye first is the sapphires, blue crystal with deep dark hearts pressed into the pendant of a necklace, the heart of a bracelet, and the main bodies of their matching earrings. All simple, elegant pieces, and compiled, their impressiveness is amplified. Your breath catches. You don’t need to be an expert in jewellery to immediately assign a ballpark price tag, and it’s a lot. It’s sort of startling.

But the price doesn’t matter half as much as the sentiment.

“Do you remember them?” he asks softly.

Fourth date. Hand in hand, you and Spencer walked through a shopping centre with iced drinks and churros, and you’d paused for a few seconds to ogle the jewellery display. You’d pointed straight at the sapphire bracelet and said, “That’s gorgeous. I think if I save, I can get it for Christmas.”

“I know it’s not Christmas,” Spencer says, “I’m sorry, I cheated. But I hope you like them.”

“Spencer, I love them, I love them,” —you reach your hand across the table— “I love you. Thank you.”

He smiles at you. “Yeah, I love you, too.”

You can’t stop yourself from getting up to hug him. He bends under your weight and holds your arms, doesn’t wince when you press the entirety of your face to his hair and breathe. “Thank you,” you whisper, kissing his forehead twice, “thank you, I love you.”

“I love you, too.” He takes your face into his hand before you can leave. “You like them?” he asks.

“I love them.”

His smile is everything. “I really did cheat, I wrote it down when we got home and you know I can’t forget the things I read,” he murmurs, pulling you in for a kiss.

Six months later and your heart still skips a beat. Doesn’t matter that he has an eidetic memory, what’s important is that he wrote it down.

You take another hug, to his delight, and return to your seat. Your presents wait in a bag under the table. Two books, one jewellery box. He goes for the smaller box first.

“It’s a ring,” you say, too nervous to let him discover it by himself. “I know you don’t often wear them, but I thought maybe it’s because it’s not something you’d get for yourself, and I think it would look good on you.”

He opens the box with a smile. So pretty, and exuberantly bright. “Oh, wow.”

“I don’t know if brands mean anything to you, but it’s Vivienne–”

“It’s beautiful,” he interrupts, “I love it. What finger do I wear it on?”

“Most wear it on their marriage finger, I think, but you obviously don’t have to do that.”

He slips it onto his ring finger, turns his hand one way and another, and there’s this joy that echoes all the way across the table from his very core. “Thank you. I love it, and now every time I look down I'll remember why you gave it to me.”

You spend a lot of time apart, what with both of you working. “I thought that, too.”

He takes the books next. His laugh is soft. “I’m not surprised.”

“They’re… they’re my personal copies.”

He startles at that. “They are?”

“Yeah. Uh,” —you point at the first— “that’s my favourite, and I think it could be your favourite too.”

“And this one?” he asks gently, slipping the first underneath the second.

“Aaron gave that one to me. I know what you’re thinking, okay, that I’m giving something to you I should really keep. Maybe it makes you uncomfortable, I don’t know, but I love you.” You lick your lips. “It’s nice to fall in love. And you’ve made it so easy.”

He stares at you, lips parted.

You panic. “It was hard, growing up, and I know everyone struggles but it was hard. If it weren’t for my brother… I feel like it sticks to me and you’ve never made me feel that way. You love me for me. I was convinced nobody would ever do that.”

“I know it was hard,” he says.

“Really hard, sometimes, but you aren’t. I’m never scared of you.”

He reaches across the table to touch your hand. “You aren’t supposed to be scared of anyone, angel.”

Warmth blossoms under his touch. You shake off the fog. “It’s not just about all of that, I swear, I really do think you’ll like them. But if I got it all wrong just lie to me, okay?”

“You didn’t get anything wrong, shut up,” he says. Spencer stands, his turn to hug you, but he goes about it differently. He tips your head back and he kisses you, and his nose is a pressed line in your cheek as he squeezes you to him. “I’d be surprised if anybody who’s ever met you didn’t love you. Okay? Thank you for trusting me with it.”

It, and not them, not the books.

He peels away. You beam at one another.

“Should we eat?” you ask, feeling pleased and shy at once.

He kisses you again, one quick peck. “Yes, we can eat.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction

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thebluester2020 · 16 days ago

Text

[GI] Kinktober Day 21: "Breeding Kink"

Summary: The life of a harbinger was chaotic and the threat of death, though low, it wasn't completely impossible. Henceforth, Tartaglia decides that it's best to ensure that his legacy continues.

Warning(s): Established Relationship, Breeding kink (obv), Squirting, Some mentions of death (not too much though), Tartaglia being whipped for his wifey,

Side Note(s): If it isn't clear atp, I have a litttttleee bit of a crush on Tartaglia <333. [Also this is one of my lil' late fics since I was hit with the writer's block virus]

"C'mon baby...think about it, how good you'd look swollen with my kids~" Tartaglia whispered in your ears as he was currently balls-deep inside your weeping pussy.

The lewd sound of squelching echoed throughout the room as Tartaglia bullied his cock into you, your hands fruitlessly grabbing and pulling at the sheets beneath you as he cooed into your ear, begging for you to take his cock. Since his latest mission in Fontaine, where he fought against the All-Devouring Narwhal. You had spent the last few weeks practically babying him, not a single soul aside from another harbinger was allowed to see him.

You had patched up countless wounds, and endured too many nights where he had a dangerous fever.

You worried your husband would be taken away from you before you'd even reach your fifth year with him! Tartaglia, although he tried to hide it with confidence and jests, shared your concern and tried to make you feel as comfortable and confident in him as he possibly could. Yet...the only way he could truly make you feel alright, in his mind...was by giving you a baby.

"H-Honey...!" You keened as you began to rock your hips back onto your husband. "W-What's gotten into you?" You moaned, struggling to look back at your ginger lover.

Almost as if he were trying to suddenly hide away, Tartaglia buried his face into the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent as he groaned at the feeling of you clenching around him. "J-Just tryin' to give you a baby..." He whined. "S-So that you'll have someone to baby over, w-while I'm gone." He continued to stutter out, his cock twitching inside of you as he started to rub his hands up and down your body, as if he were struggling to figure out where he wanted to keep them until he finally settled.

One hand fondling your breast while the other tended to your neglected clit. The sudden pleasure made you scream in pleasure, the already tight knot in the pit of your stomach growing tighter as you felt your husband somehow fuck into your slicked cunt even faster. "Gonna give you a couple of kids Y/N..." He babbled as if he were drunk off the feeling of your pussy. "Then you won't have to worry, a part of me will still be around~"

"I-I'd still miss you..." You managed to force out as you just managed to look behind you to see your husband panting over you, his sapphire blues wet with pleasure and hidden emotion, you just couldn't pinpoint right at this moment.

Perhaps later, of course. "Don't—Ahh...—wanna have babies alone." Tartaglia pressed himself closer to your backside at your words, whines falling from his lips more and more as he continued to feel his cock twitch the more he felt his orgasm creep closer up onto him. The more he felt your pussy clench and unclench around him as he practically felt himself growing more and more addicted to the feeling of your walls by the moment. "You won't have to..." He moaned in your ear.

He knew he couldn't die from any future missions of his, children aside. The idea of leaving your cunt alone to not be filled by him, stuffed and tended to...it annoyed him more than anything!

"C-Close...!" You moaned, Tartaglia's fingers circling around your clit faster and faster. The harbinger nearly choked on his breath with how impossibly tight you became all of a sudden as if you were trying to wring every drop of cum from his balls. "D-Don't stop—"

"I don't plan to." He smirked behind you before he moved his hand to press it against your back, forcing you into a mean arch and fucking even harder into your cunt, his eyes glued to the way your cunt gripped onto him and how your slick stuck onto his abdomen.

Until...he saw you squirt.

"Fuckkkk..." He groaned. "How come you haven't done this sooner?" He licked his lips as he fucked you through your orgasm, the tiny aht aht ahts that left your lips making him want to fuck you even harder than he already was. But, as you began to whine from overstimulation, he realized he'd have to save that for another time. The last thing he'd want to do is break you completely, there was plenty of time for that down the line.

Tartaglia began to grind into your cunt, leaning back over you as he felt his front press back onto your back. "I'm never leaving you Y/N..." He whispered. "Death won't take me away from you...I-I promise." He managed to get out before you moaned softly as the feeling of his warm cum pooling your insides, some escaping and dribbling down the back of your thighs much to the harbinger's dismay.

He pouted. "Why'd you waste my cum?" He grumbled, lightly biting on your ear.

You looked back through hooded eyes before a dopey smile crawled onto your face. "...T-Then fill me again..." You begged.

Oh, he definitely couldn't die too soon.

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zablife · 4 months ago

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hello, i have a request for benny where he introduces his girl to the vandals for the first time.

one of them is already a good friend of her, but he didn’t know the person she was seeing was benny (and maybe benny gets a bit possessive)

Ty for the request, lovely! It's my first for The Bikeriders so I couldn't wait to dive in. I used your idea plus the GIF above as inspo to create drama, plus a little heat with our fave man. I hope you enjoy it and let me know your thoughts!

Rumors

18+ MDNI

Warnings: language, possessiveness, semi public sex

A/N: If you haven't seen the film, it might help to know: 1-Johnny doesn't like to share Benny and 2-Cal's first language is French.

"Heard a little somethin' about your girl you might want to know," Johnny rasped, allowing his words to dissipate into the air on a lungful of smoke.

Benny signaled his interest by leaning forward slightly in his chair, brow furrowed as he thought of anything about you that would warrant a private conversation with the leader of the Vandals. All he could think of at that moment was how eager he'd been to show you off to the guys, an obvious note of pride swelling in his chest each time he uttered your name.

Curiosity getting the better of him, he finally asked, "Yeah, what's that?" Though he had tried to hide his concern behind a facade of cool detachment, the slight twitch of his hand when he raised his cigarette to his lips gave him away.

If it had been a game of poker, Johnny could have recognized the bluff from a mile away. He bit back a sly grin, tonguing the inside of his cheek as he chose his next words for maximum damage.

"Let's just say she ain't no stranger here," he hinted, eyeing Benny carefully to gauge the effect it had on the impulsive young man. Watching Benny's fists clench at his sides, he swiftly added, "Especially not to Cal."

As if on cue, Benny's blue eyes flashed with an ominous darkness. "What are you talkin' about?" he demanded through clenched teeth.

Hissing in Benny's ear like a venomous serpent, Johnny advised, "Don't let her make a fool out of ya. That's all I'm sayin."

Benny's shoulders began to stiffen tightly beneath his leather jacket and Johnny clapped him on the back before abandoning him to his rapidly spiraling jealousy.

You could practically feel the floor shake with the stomp of his boots before you heard the low rumble of his voice calling your name. The tenderness he'd affected an hour ago was gone, replaced by a gruffness which commanded you, "C'mon, baby."

You stared at him wild eyed, wondering what had gotten into him. "N-now? We just got here," you stuttered.

He nodded, taking you firmly by the hand and you decided not argue while his rings pressed into your flesh.

As his friends hooted and whistled, you exited the bar out into the warm summer night. The relative quiet of the street amplified Benny's voice as he asked, "When were you gonna tell me?"

Stumbling off the front step together, he brought you face to face with him, sapphire eyes gleaming with fire. However, you immediately sensed a note of hurt in his accusation.

"Tell you what?" you begged, still uncertain what had him so worked up.

"About you and Cal," he prodded, watching a flash of recognition pass over your face in damning confirmation.

"Don't try to deny it," he warned, dropping your arm to pace the darkened alley beside the bar. Running his hands through his hair in distress, he'd clearly begun thinking the worst when you remained silent.

You struggled to recall who else knew about your acquaintance with Cal, then suddenly you understood, a long sigh pushing from your lungs as you recalled what Kathy had told you about Johnny's dislike of girlfriends hanging around. He said nagging wives took the guys away from the club when the crack ups and late nights began to threaten their relationships. You closed your eyes and shook your head, realizing he’d probably been the one to upset Benny.

"Say somethin'...please," Benny begged, waiting for you to open your eyes to him.

You twisted your fingers in front of you as you finally confessed, "Yeah, I know Cal." Watching Benny hang his head at your admission, you clarified, "Well...I knew the scrawny kid who took English lessons with me a few years ago. I barely recognize him now with that wild hair and that earring." You huffed out a quiet laugh at the thought of it, stopping Benny's nervous movements as he listened to the angelic sound.

He splayed a palm against the cool brick, glancing over his shoulder at you hopefully.

You nodded at him confirming,"That's all it ever was, baby." His chest heaved a sigh of relief as you came to stand at his side. Ducking under his strong arm, you ran a hand down the side of his scruffy cheek and brought his gaze back to you. "I'm yours, Benny. Nobody else's, you understand?"

A low growl rumbled from his lips as he pressed you against the wall, lips seeking yours for the physical reassurance he so badly needed.

His mouth moved against yours insistently, desperate for more and your hands flew to his hair, tugging in wanton desire. As your breasts pushed against his chest, he couldn't help deepening the kiss with a swipe of his tongue and before either of you could contain it, passion overtook you.

Benny turned you to face the wall and raised your skirt over your ass, tugging your underwear aside eager to claim you. Your breath hitched as you heard the jingle of his belt and you quickly braced yourself against the wall for what was to come. Without a care for who might disturb you, he took you right there, hips pistoning into you with reckless abandon.

"Tell me one more time, sweetheart," he urged breathlessly, sucking a dark bruise into your neck that would become irrefutable proof.

"I'm-I'm yours...I belong...belong to you, Ben--," you panted through little shocks of pleasure, unable to continue as you came hard around him.

"S right," he agreed, biting down on your shoulder to stifle his own groans of pleasure. Giving into your vice like grip, he tumbled over the edge with you, heartbeat hammering against your back in exhaustion.

You reached for him in the darkness, clutching the back of his head to keep him close. He stayed inside you for a long, tender moment afterward, placing scattered kisses behind your ear. You might have stayed that way longer if not for your ticklishness and exposed location. So with a hiss, he begrudgingly withdrew from you and gently lowered your skirt.

In the afterglow, Benny smiled at you with a cockeyed grin, tucking himself inside his jeans. The dewy flush of your cheeks making his heart skip a beat, he leaned in for one last kiss as you heard the door to the bar open and release the sounds of boisterous laughter.

Several bikers emerged, Johnny leading the way to the row of choppers parked at the curb. As he strutted toward his bike, a haphazard glance was thrown your way before doing a double take.

You weren't sure if you should scream at him or thank him for the rumor he'd attempted to spread about you and Cal, seeing how it had actually brought you closer to Benny.

When your boyfriend wrapped an arm around your waist, placing a kiss to the top of your head, you decided it wasn't worth arguing about. With a smirk and a little wave, you forced Johnny to acknowledge you, making it clear you weren't leaving Benny's side anytime soon.

#zablife ask box #the bikeriders #the bikeriders fanfiction #benny cross #benny cross fanfiction #benny cross x reader #Benny cross x you #Benny cross x y/n #Johnny Davis #Austin Butler

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belphegorey · 7 months ago

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⌜sapphires, mammon⌟ his little human looked so pretty in gold ships ⎯⎯ mammon x fem!reader tropes ⎯⎯ vaginal sex, blushing mammon, dick piercing, scenting, size kink, praise, marking, pact marks, lots of greed

Gold. It dropped down your skin in silken cloth, caressing your body in the thin layer and making you shimmer. Necklaces and bracelets glittered like the finest of treasure on your body. Earrings dangled with more carats than anyone could afford.

The tantalising speck in your eye reflected the same ore. Your wicked smirk taunted him in more and more of the golden decadence you were encased in. The finest of prizes. The treasure all pirates would hunt for, the gift all people would die for, the only thing Mammon would kill for.

Rings hung on your fingers. Rubies, emeralds and diamonds galore. The jewel within the golden earrings, he realised, were perfect sapphires. His chest grew tight as they glittered under the chandeliers. “ Your eyes ,” you had whispered them on your first day in the Devildom, just after Mammon had given you his completely grand tour of the House of Lamentation, “ they’re so blue .”

Mammon could still recall his scoff. You had been so strange. Sure, he had only listened to you for an hour by that point, but he had decided you were not worth his valuable time. Most of his mind had been occupied by whether or not his stocks had lowered during the day. “ They are not blue ,” it had felt like an insult to him at the time. He hadn’t even acknowledged the sheer intrigue upon your beautifully shining face — whereas it was all Mammon could think of now, “ they are like… sapphires. Sapphires and gold. ”

You had nodded with a faint little smile. It was the first smile he had seen of yours. Mammon could describe each expression on your face, and the variety of your grins in great detail, but that one was the most valuable in his mind. Rare, special, and one you had shown him first. “ Sapphires and gold .” Yet again, his mind was occupied with profit, including whether or not he could find a way to sell you as an experiment to Solomon, but even then Mammon had felt pride seeing your soft expression just for him. The first time he had felt something positive toward you, a blissful premonition of your shared future. “ A beautiful combination .”

His tongue tied into knots. It was the worst torture he could have ever endured. Any punishment from Lucifer paled in comparison as he watched you descend into the room with the same small smile on your face. His skin burned hot and the rings around his fingers, one of which you had given him as a gift, did nothing to cool his fire. All his brothers stood around him, watching and praising your every movement, he was sure that Beelzebub had slipped drool onto the floor beneath them. Mammon scrunched his nose to ignore the stabbing in his spine.

His. It was what fuelled him. Greed was what flowed in his veins and blossomed in his throat. You were his. You dressed up in the finest of materials for him . You wore sapphire earrings for him . The little smile on your face was only for him . His brothers were not who you were looking for. They were not the ones who protected you and listened to your every story.

“You look darling, my love,” Asmo moved forward in a movement similar to that of a dance. His steps were delicate and smooth as he whisked you away from Mammon’s eyes. You had gone with him like a true ballerina, performing with your typical delicateness and respect. Mammon was sure that he could hear the growing orchestra of the human ballet play out in his head. Did that make him Hilarion to your Gisele? His fingers twitched as he noticed Diavolo and Barabatos greet you with smiles.

Everyone was watching you. Had you been anyone else Mammon would say it was because of the scarcity in your outfit. He knew better. You were the treasure that sparkled in eyes. No jewel, no car, not even his precious Goldie, were comparable to you. You were his human. He was your demon. Your first demon.

Mammon would not allow himself to just watch you be flaunted by his brother. He jumped to action, the orchestra in his mind crescendoed to a glorious triumph, and Mammon made his way across the room. Your golden dress and the sparkling smile guided him forward, the itching in his back of wins that threatened to burst through fuelled him further. Your eyes, lit brighter than the chandeliers above you, found him and your smile returned. Big, toothy, mischevious. The hand weighed down in glorious rings ran softly against your hip, the jewels catching the light gloriously.

Temptress. You were no worse than one of Asmodeus’ succubi. Mammon loved it. Your tantalising gaze licked at his greedy veins and pressed him to act further. To let loose. To properly remind everyone who you were meant for.

“I’m glad you could make it, Mammon!” Diavolo’s regular grin greeted him while Barbotos stood to his left, arms folded in the usual servant manner. Both of them stared into his body, Mammon could feel the eyes as they fell to the flood of green surging off his soulless body. He attempted a smile to placate the royal before him, but your sparkling person kept poking at the corner of his eye. It felt just wrong to look away from you, especially when the hungry gaze of all the higher demons in the Devildom were staring right at you. “Lucifer had said you would be working tonight.”

He had never been so lucky in his life. It was his own curse to step with misfortune haunting his shadow. His modelling job would always run overtime and Mammon would be left hanging from the roof tied in electric cables as punishment for his tardiness. But not that day. Not only did it finish early, a feat in itself, but Mammon was allowed to witness you in all golden glory. “I was gonna, yeah, but we finished early so i’m able to come and celebrate ya.”

He felt your hand before he properly realised you had moved to stand right beside him. Your touch was feathery, slowly running across his back to tug on the belt loop along his hip. The fire beneath his skin was red hot, your touch was the ice he needed to cool down. A shudder ran down Mammon’s spine as you leaned into him, he felt the fire rise on his cheeks at the stance. So blatant, so obvious, it showed that he was dangled on your arm. Him. No one else.

“But,” you sighed and finished your demonus with a low gaze on the floor. One of the fingers you had caught around his belt loop reached for his hand, linking his finger to yours. His lips were sealed tight as the blushed tortured his physique, “it is a shame but I need to steal Mammon for the night. You won’t mind if we leave a bit early, right?”

Diavolo waved off your worry with a hearty grin, moving with your lie though Mammon (and he was sure you as well) knew that he caught your lie easily. “So long as you come over for afternoon tea with Barbatos and I this week, it will be fine.”

“Of course,” you grinned with a wickedness he could only compared to Satan, though that in itself was like a cat. Your chest pressed into his arm as your grin only grew further. “Should I bring over some cakes?”

It was Barbatos who answered the question; with only a simple shake of his head. “That is unnecessary. I will make sure to prepare both yours and the Young Lord’s favourites for our tea.”

“Delightful! I’ll see you both then,” you bid them both a sweet goodbye with a wave of your fingers. Mammon felt himself stuck in a frozen manner as you pulled him away to the door of the castle. All he could register was the cooling touch of your hand holding his own and the sparkling treasure gracing your body.

Mammon was not one for sharing. He never shared his favourite meals. He never shared his time with you. And he certainly did not share his possessions. The gold bars he kept hidden in his safe, the necklaces and bracelets he never intended to wear and Goldie herself were only meant for him. Yet, he needed to see you dressed in his finest possessions.

It sounded glorious. His bed covered in cash and jewels, with his most important treasure laid in the centre, covered in the jewellery he hoarded and nothing else. Just waiting for him to touch. Begging for him. Needing him.

Your visage for the night’s gala was just a little treat for the reality of his dream.

“Where are ya takin’ me?” He tugged on your joined hands in resistance and grimaced as the collar of his suit choked on him. Mammon wanted nothing more than to follow your every step, but his own attitude had to intervene. The door of the castle opened and granted Mammon a warm breeze through the Devildom night. The moons were tall in the dark sky, shining bright enough to make your jewellery glitter. “Lucifer is gonna punish us. Nah, he is gonna punish me and then say I took ya myself.”

You giggled and he felt his tongue tie together. He loved that noise, more than when the slots would make that fantastic winning chime. “I just had a thought,” you stopped walking and turned around to smile at him. His hand was still caught in yours, and you pulled him in so that your chest pressed together. “Everyone is with Diavolo, so we have the house to ourselves…”

Evil temptress. You were pure evil! Mammon groaned and hid behind his free hand, the blush burning red on his cheeks. “You can’t say that kinda stuff,” he whined into his palm, and your resounding giggle only made him whine louder. It was wicked and you knew it! Maybe you really were part succubi. “It’ll gimme ideas.”

You moved his hand from his face, lips dangerously close to touching him. Mammon was frozen once again. Does he do it. Does he grant himself the kiss he had dreamed of? He needed it, more than he needed the newest 666 Lexura (on Lucifer’s dime) but he couldn’t if you weren’t wanting it. Mammon would wait for an eternity for you. “And if I want you to have those ideas?”

From then on, it was Mammon who led you to the House of Lamentation. The searing burn of his skin was nothing to the icy touch you offered, he needed it all over his body. Your hand was tightly gripped in the veiny grasp of his fist, but you no made no cries.

There was only gleeful laughter as you ran along beside him. Mammon didn’t allow himself the pleasure of moaning over your beautiful laugh, not when he knew what was awaiting him inside the large doors it the house. As much as he did love your laugh, he was just dying to hear your moans instead.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you look so determined,” you whispered it into his ears as he fumbled with the handles of the front door. Stupid faulty lock. Stupid prank from Belphegor to annoy Lucifer. Your lips were inches from his ear, more teasing speech sounding like the song of sirens to lure him in, “want me that bad?”

No speaking. If he spoke Mammon knew he would mess everything up and wake up from the dream he had to have been having. Instead he successfully pushed the front door open and whisked you away to his bedroom. Where you belonged.

It all just felt so right having you inside his space. Your scent has gotten so faint over the days it had been since your movie night together. The aura you held, so mischevious in its purity, tainted by his pact. He could see the black blemish along your soul all around you, burned by the mark along your sternum.

And yet, it just fuelled him so much more. It was all his. You were his. You were dressed up all for him, ready to be coated in his treasure, and smiling at him in wait for his next step. You stood in front of his bed, fingers trailing down the golden dress you tortured him with. It would be so easy to push you back onto the mattress and ravage you as he had desired for far too long.

Mammon was sure that his breathing was ragged and shallow, he must have resembled a monster. His hair was messed from his own awkward hands as he tried to stay calm and the tingling of his wings still taunted his back in wait. One more step and the control over himself would combust.

He was always weak when it came to you.

“Mammon,” you whispered his name like it were a crime. So soft spoken, not wanting to break the bubble. Your mischief, the teasing, it had gone. All that stood left before him was the radiating greed from your form, drowning his mind in the finest of liquor, “I need you.”

Snap . He heard the crack of his wings hitting the air before Mammon properly felt them extend from his back. They tore through the suit he wore as he pounced on you, your back falling to the mattress under his body.

You were so small. He was not the largest demon, but there was something in the sheer difference in your frames. Your face was cast in his shadow, your alluring eyes large as you stared up at him. There was no fear when his claw tore through the front of your dress.

Instead, there was a bright smile, the one he loved, when you realised what he was doing. “Yours, Mammon,” your hands found his hair and the horns protruding from them, pushing your chest closer to his face. The torn gold along your chest had revealed your glorious body to him, but most importantly, the mark that made you his.

“Mine,” the word was like a growl on his tongue as he watched the mark. It glowed in his presence, even more of the glorious gold that he loved. “Had to watch ya be shown off. I felt sick watchin’ but I couldn’t look away from ya, Treasure.”

You lifted a leg around his hips to press yourself against his erection. Mammon felt his cheeks go red from the shame but your shaky moan at the touch melted it away. His greedy little human, it felt amazing to know he was not the only one desperate. “Did I look pretty for you?”

“So so pretty,” he pushed up the skirt of your dress, letting the long material bunch at your waist. He wouldn’t let you take it off, maybe not for a long time. His colour was just too beautiful on you. “Gonna need you to wear this every day.”

You shuddered against him as Mammon ran a long finger along your cunt. No underwear. He had always heard Asmo talk about how you couldn’t wear panties with some clothes, but he just thought it was a lie. And yet, you were on display for him just like that. “That may be hard since you tore the front,”

“Ain’t no one else seeing you in this.” No. No, he couldn’t be having that. Even if you were in an outfit that covered all your skin under hundreds of layers, Mammon would still prefer it for his eyes alone. The wet heat on his fingers made his head spin in horny glee, the sweet smell of you making his eyes roll. “Just for me from now on. Got it? Me.”

You pushed against his seeking hand, rubbing more of your slick onto his palm. His erection throbbed in his pants. He needed to feel you. Feel all of you. “I sound like a doll then.”

His wings flapped and Mammon bit his lip. Doll. That worked. He rather liked it. “My doll, though, not my brothers,” he dug his head into the crook of your neck. Your smell was so strong, it streamed from every pore in your skin, he felt intoxicated. The growing lust, the overwhelming greed, even the licks of pride that often made his face scrunch were delicious from you. “Need ya really bad, human.”

You stroked his hair and rolled your hips against him. “Then, have me,”

The soft words had spurred action within you both. Mammon had gone into his back while you adjusted yourself to straddle him, his erection flush against his toned chest and leanings beads of white. Your eyes never strayed from his dick, he felt like glowing under your approving gaze.

“You have piercings?” Mammon nodded with a smirk, shining from the wetness he could feel growing on his thighs. You liked it. He should have known you would.

Your hand gently went to grasp his cock, thumb running along the golden piercing beneath the head. His moaned through his teeth at your curious touch. You did it again, gauging his reaction and milking another bead of precum from his slit.

Mammon noticed the bite of your lip, the slow grinding of your hips and the flooding lust in the air. He wanted to show off for you, tease you, and simultaneously ask if you wanted him to get more. “I really like it,” you eventually said, rubbing your palm against him as you lifted yourself into the air.

He dug his fingers into the mattress beneath him. It was happening. The thing he had craved. Something Mammon would have sold all his belongings for. You. He got to have you!

You aligned his dick with your entrance, whimpering as he entered. Your golden dress had fallen down and hid the act from his eyes, which may be a good thing because Mammon knew he would never be able to tear his eyes from it. He groaned as you slid down the shaft, taking more and more of him in such a slow movement that it felt torturous.

Until, he was completely in you, pushing you and stretching you out. He could feel your cunt tight and warm around him, throbbing in need for only his touch. Your face was scrunched in desire as your lip wobbled. His little human. All full.

“Doing so well, Treasure,” he moaned the praise into the air, his hand right on your hip. The glow of his pact mark fuelled the flames inside his body, only triumphed as your tits slipped from the torn dress. Mammon couldn’t help himself. “My human. Lookin’ all pretty for me,” he continued to whispered all the praise he had ever thought of when it came to you, moving himself up and closer to your chest.

When his mouth kissed the skin around your breast, your body shook as you moaned. He graced his fangs to see your reaction — it was just as needy as the last. You began to move on his dick, bouncing up and down while you pulled on his hair.

More marks. He wanted to leave enough marks on you that no one would dare go near you. Mammon squeezed his hand in your waist as he bit gently on your chest, and to his surprise you giggled through your shaky moan. “Am I your property now, Mammon?”

“Not property,” he was quick to dismiss that. You were his, but not an object. You were his favourite treasure, someone to worship. “You’re mine though. Don’t ya forget that or else.”

Your movements were that of a succubi. You’d managed to get him nice and deep inside you, threatening his control over just filling you up with his cum each time, then pulling him out so just his tip would kiss your opening.

And yet, your face was angelic and oh so sweet. Mammon was enamoured. “I won’t ever forget,” he couldn’t help but nuzzle into your neck again. It felt so safe. Mammon kissed your neck as he moved his other hand to your hip, moving your body with your bouncing, adding just the slightest bit more speed.

His favourite doll. His sapphire and his gold. His.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me! shall we date #obey me mammon #obey me! mammon #om! mammon #shall we date mammon #obey me smut #obey me! smut #obey me! shall we date smut #obey me! mammon smut #mammon smut #mammon obey me #mammon obey me smut #om!swd smut #om!swd mammon #om! smut #om! mammon smut #⌜writing⌟

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with-my-calamitous-love · 28 days ago

Text

YOU SHOULD SEE YOUR FACES

touya todoroki x f! reader

you love him, so fuck everyone else.

smut! you are responsible for what you read

inspired by but daddy i love him

at first, touya was worried.

he’s dark, he’s burning blue, he’s evil. he’s everything wrong with the world, everything corrupt as a resulr of a broken childhood. he’s burning with revenge at the seems- literally. he’s scary, and dangerous, and everything you’re not.

he can’t measure up to you. to your glow, how you paint his deep blue golden. you’re kind and gentle, the kind of flower that no one dared to pick out of fear of diminishing its beauty. as cruel as he may be, he hesitates to take that away from you.

at first.

now, he’s got your knees almost touching your ears, pounding his cock in and out of you for what’s probably been hours.

what a mess.

its crazy, but also the one you want. how could you not, seeing the way he’s sending mind-numbing pleasure coursing throughout your entire body. you can barely form any coherent sentences, letting him ravage you entirely. he’s salivating just seeing you, the way your tits bounce with every thrust, or how you squeeze around him when he whispers filthy things into your ear.

“fuck, you take me so well doll. you gonna let me ruin you, yeah?” he groans, landing a playful smack to the side of your hips. “say my name again.”

“touya!” you cry out. he smirks, seeing how absolutely he, and only he can get you.

if bystanders could only see their faces, knowing that the sweetest person on the planet fell in love with someone like touya todoroki.

he’s chaos and he’s revelry, lips pressing against your neck in a tender yet passion display of love. he starts with a kiss, before nipping at your skin and marking you. his cold tongue ring feels heavenly.

he’s relentless in his pace, the noises of sex filling the room as he has his way with you. he looks beautiful right now, scars and all as your nipples slide over his pecs over and over again.

perhaps your favourite part of him are his bedroom eyes. the way those sapphires lazily drink in your pleasure-filled form, wanting more and more. he pressings himself against your further, pulling out all the way before slamming back into you. you swear you can feel his tip up against your god damn womb.

if anyone else saw your relationship, they’d tell touya to stay away from you. they’d pull you away, cage you in a feeble attempt at protecting your light. they’d protest and sabotage what you have, sanctimoniously performing soliloquies you’d never see.

“fuck, i’m gonna cum babygirl. want me to fill you uo, yeah?” he groans again, his gravelly voice making you clench around his cock, sucking him in even further. god, he’s so beautiful like this and he doesn’t even know it.

“yes, touya! mn!” you moan out, scratching down his back and pulling at his snowy white hair. he grins, the pain melting with the pleasure deliciously.

for love like this, you’d rather burn your whole life down than listen to the bitching from the people around you. if your name is so good, its your good name to disgrace. you love each other like that.

they can’t change the way his heart beats when you touch him. they can’t change the fire that burns in his heart. you’re his gasoline.

they don’t have to pray for you.

finally, you unwind. his cum shoots out in thick, white ropes, so intense he physically has to hold back from burning you. he holds you close to him, making sure every single drop is nestled deep inside of you. as for you, you scream out again, mind blanking as that familiar warm feelings blankets your entire body.

you two are sticky, gooey messes as he slowly withdraws, landing next to you on the bed. with what strength he has left, he pulls you in. you don’t need a blanket when you sleep next to touya.

ultimately, some people still hold out, and tell you that you’re wrong- but fuck them.

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cybsoo2 · 2 months ago

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temptation

01. neverland is not a dream

╰┈➤ synopsis — Shipwrecked, you find yourself stranded on a strange island. After searching the shores, you stumble across a rather annoying boy. His leads you to safety and you start to question what future, fate will bestow upon you.

╰┈➤ pairing — yandere!faerie!txt x reader

╰┈➤ word count — 4.3k

╰┈➤ content warning — slight angst

ੈ✩‧₊˚ note ; AAHH I’M SO EXCITED BUT SCARED TO POST THIS!!hopefully the taglist works cuz its my first time using one. also pls don’t be shy to interact or ask any questions. i luv to hear yall yap •ᴗ•

The salty sea is unfamiliar to your tongue. The waves that wash over you kiss your lips with every swell. The ocean breathes in shallow breaths that turn the tide. You’re swallowed under a sudden wave when you finally decide to open your eyes.

Your cheek is pressed up against a cool surface. You reach out to run your fingers through the soft sand; digging your hand in deeper to ground yourself. Dehydration has left you dizzy. You lick your lips to get rid of dryness; spitting out the bits of sand that stick to your tongue.

You turn on your back to gauge your surroundings. A bright light blinds you and you bring up your hand to shield your eyes. The warm rays slip past your fingertips. You drop your arm back down once your eyes begin to settle in the sunlight. The void is filled with a bright blue. Millions of miles of nothing but the sapphire shade. The sea and sky battle against each other, two shades morphing into one. No ships sailing, no birds fluttering, you’re entirely alone in this vast expanse of nothingness.

You turn to the side, pieces of your past shipwreck are spread out across the shore. You reach out to touch the destruction. Discarded and decaying, all symbols of safety are ruined. Your breath begins to grow heavy. This realization rests like a 20 pound weight on your chest. You sit up slightly, leaning back on your elbows. Whipping your head around you, you can see that the beach goes on for miles. It stretches out across the horizon and wraps around the curves of the island. Sand, trees, and wreckage are all that you can see.

You stand up fast, fighting off the feeling of lightheadedness. You swallow down the sandpaper sensation in your throat.

“Hello!” Your voice tears into your throat. “Is anyone there?! Hello!” Your brittle voice breaks down against its misuse, but you continue screaming into the silence. While you shout at the seashore, you begin to search the beach for any stragglers from the wreck. Desperate eyes scour the empty shore as your cries are carried out to sea.

You continue to search for what feels like hours until hope holds out its hand and shows you what seems to be… footprints?

Small markings are dug into the sand and you sprint ahead to take a look. The tracks start in the sand and stretch out into the treeline. You walk alongside them, matching each step with your own. The footprints draw you further into the unknown forest. The woods welcome you. Shifting and reshaping its terrain to form a faint path. It pulls you in before you can think twice.

Too naive to understand and too distraught to care, you turn a blind eye to your surroundings. Unbeknownst to you, magic flows through the forest. Running like roots through the entire island. It’s intertwined with the trees, dispersed in the air, and familiar to any lifeform that calls this island home.

While you may not understand what is still unknown, you can feel a power that pulses in the air. An aura that you can’t quite put a name to, but can recognize its strength and ecstasy. It makes a faint humming noise that rings in your ears and hovers with every step you take. It’s not a nuisance like one would assume, rather a relaxant that washes away your worries.

This feeling feels familiar, as is everything else that meets your eye. Nothing has any resemblance to reality. Everything is warped into a perfect, pink, picture. In your hazy recollection, it reminds you of a drifting dream. The place where sorrow and anger are absent. It’s a child’s paradise filled with fairies, mermaids, monsters, and all things interesting. A sacred sanctuary reserved for the fallen youth. Yet, it’s a wonder how you wound up here. An island lost at sea, never mapped and only known to those who spend their lives searching for it. Perhaps, the devil needed a shiny new thing to toy with. And who is he to resist a sweet thing so pure.

You’ve followed your fantasies to temptation. Lured out by someone else’s lucky streak. The gates left unguarded to a new and interesting enigma. But when what you believe to be a dream starts morphing into a realm of reality, why would you want to leave? Even when you realize that the roots run red with dark desires and a sinful touch, would you even be able to escape?

A rustling in the bushes causes you to look up from your feet. You gain a feeling of unease and stop to hold your breath. The trees seem to taunt you, dropping leaves on your head that make you jump out of your skin. The bushes shake with laughter and the birds twitter teasing remarks.

You can feel yourself growing closer. A certain presence plays hide-and-seek in the shadows. A storm swims in your stomach, the tides turning and making you feel almost powerless; like prey being toyed with before the predator pounces. The sinking sensation drags you down, your feet feeling like lead and knees threatening to give in. But you push through the fear, determined to find a solution to this mess.

You follow the footsteps further into the forest. Twisting and turning leaving you dizzy with dread. The tracks even appear to do laps and loops around you. Have you gotten lost already? You stop to settle your doubt for only a second before continuing on the crooked path. You remain running, just trying to hold on to your sanity while the sun begins to set. Darkness is falling fast and you'd like to find some sort of shelter before the sky submits to the black abyss.

As the minutes morph into miles, the footprints seem to appear fainter. Almost as if the culprit is floating with softer steps. The footprints then stop completely in the middle of nowhere. Two prints pressed into the dirt drop off into thin air. Nobody stands before you, no noises are heard, you’re surrounded by nothing at all. You lean down to give the prints a closer look and-

“BOO!” A sudden shout sends you to the ground. A shocked scream leaves your lips as you turn around in terror. You look up from your spot, sprawled out on the forest floor to see what seems to be… a boy? His silhouette blocks the sun, hiding his face under a dark overcast. He peers down into your eyes. You’re only able to make out the smug smile that settles itself in the shadows. He gives a soft laugh before asking, “I scared you didn’t I?” There’s a playful tone to his words and while he stares down at you with a smile on his lips and a shine in his eyes, you sit in shock. All coherent words have run away from your mind, leaving you stranded in silence with a stranger.

The boy kneels down in front of you, holding himself up with his hands. Curiosity catches his heart and he moves to poke and prod at the pretty little thing that has fallen at his feet. He brings one hand up to start teasing at your hair. He toys with the loose locks and tugs at it when you attempt to back away.

“Who are you?” You ask with hesitancy. The boy only continues to pull at your hair, ignoring your question. “You weren’t from the shipwreck were you? I would’ve remembered you.” The boy's attention seems to have been captured by your question.

“You would’ve remembered me? Do you really think I’m that handsome?” He says with a smirk. His hand has stopped still in your hair, now fully focused on observing your reaction.

“No, I just would’ve remembered someone annoying like you.” Although his attractiveness does grab your attention, your sudden irritation at his behavior is much more prominent. Smacking his hand away from your hair, you stand up from your spot on the ground and he’s quick to follow. A faint frown falls on his face. “Are you from here then? Do you know how to help me?” He seems to stare right through your questions, amused by your actions instead of concerned. “Do you know how I can get off the island?”

“Why would you want to leave? Have you looked around you?” He asks in confusion and stares at you like you're stupid.

You tilt your head from staring at him to look at the trees tinted pink. Blushing blossoms sprout from each branch while butterflies flutter around you. The sliver of sunshine that snakes through the treetops shines down on the forest floor. The light reflects off every shiny surface, producing glitter in the air.

The boy drags you out of your heavenly haze once he takes two steps closer. He leans forward the slightest bit to be on eye level.

“I’ll answer your questions if you answer mine.” His question comes off more demanding than you expected, leaving no room for disagreement. You nod your head to agree and he begins his interrogation. “You said you were in a shipwreck, what exactly do you mean?”

You spill your secrets into the silence. “I’d been traveling by ship for about a week before a storm hit, and well… we went under.” Your voice begins to break off. A shiver crawling down your spine at the recollection of the horrific incident. Water lines your weary eyes, but you blink back your tears before you can get caught up in your emotions. You rub at your eyes rather roughly, ignoring the boy’s intensive staring as you ask your question again. “There has to be some way to leave the island. Are there any boats? Any other survivors?”

“There might be.” He stares straight into your skull. Almost as if he’s trying to search your thoughts with x-ray vision. Your agitation only seems to grow at his unclear answers.

“Well, where are they? Can you take me to them?” Your voice grows frantic, clinging onto the frail piece of hope that there might be help for you.

“What if I don’t want to tell you?” The strange boy seems to gain a sick sense of enjoyment watching you struggle. Your anger rises into your cheeks and a cherry blossom blush bleeds into your face. The boy has to hold back another taunt at the tip of his tongue.

“What? Why not?!”

“Why not? You ask too many questions, it’s starting to get on my nerves.” The boy rolls his eyes in irritation. He takes a step closer and you stare up at him through a shocked expression. Before you can yell out your annoyance and anger at his lack of sympathy, he shuts you up with some interesting information.

“And it doesn’t matter anyways, even if I wanted to help you, I wouldn’t be able to.”

You ask your next question already dreading the answer, “And why’s that.”

“Because no one ever leaves.” He shrugs at the answer as if it’s a simple thing to say. As if he hasn’t broken any inkling of hope you still held dear to your heart. Your heartstrings snap apart and leave a searing pain that lingers. You gaze at the stranger in disbelief, unable to accept his confession. It’s only then that you realize you’ve started to cry when he reaches out to touch the teardrops. He pokes at the pink that lines your under eye, a pout of clumsy curiosity pulls at his lips.

Beomgyu doesn’t understand how he hurt you, he just knows that he did. Teardrops and falling frowns are not something he’s familiar with, he’s only ever seen them in a man’s last moments. Which is why he can’t comprehend how such simple words can cut you clean. Your heart is like a fragile flower, the blossoming bud burrows deep inside your left breast. But everytime a tear rolls off your cheek, a petal drops dead.

He’s never had to think twice about his actions. Always being so bold and brazen with his friends that just found him to be funny. But as your strange soul stands in front of him, a sliver of doubt festers under his skin. He tries to retract his answer, hoping that this time the tears will stop.

“Maybe there might be a way for you to leave.” His mouth is moving before he can stop himself. Why is his heart reacting this way? He doesn’t want you to leave… but he doesn’t want to upset you anymore.

In an instant, that shining sliver of hope blooms back in your heart. “Really? How?” You wipe away your remaining tears. Looking down at the ground instead of his eyes, you try to hide your easy emotions.

He hesitates for a moment, unsure if he should lie or tell the truth. He’s selfish and wants you all to himself, but that doesn’t mean he’s stupid. The others would find out about you eventually and he’d just get into more trouble in the long run. One last look into your tear-struck eyes has him making up his mind. “One of my brothers knows a lot more about the island than I do, so I’d have to take you to him.”

“Then let’s go!” You start walking off into the forest. You don’t know where you’re going but you’re eager to reach a resolution as soon as possible.

“You’re impatient aren’t you? And I hope you know that I can’t promise he’ll agree to let you leave.” Beomgyu scurries on after you, matching your fast pace and walking side by side. His eyes never drift far from your face. They always linger, looking at how unhidden your emotions are. He takes in the way your eyebrows are cinched in irritation, your eyes open wide with hope & hurt, and your lips that fall into a frown at his words.

“Why not?” You stop walking and turn to look at him. “ Look, I promise I don’t want to cause any trouble. But whether you like it or not, I’m stuck here. I bet you that I want to leave this place more than you wish I was gone, but I need help in order to do that.” Desperation is laced deep into your voice. It borders on begging and for some reason Beomgyu finds himself slightly disturbed by your distress. Your serious tone makes him squirm and an uncomfortable sensation swims in his stomach.

“You didn’t have to take it so seriously,” He lets out a light laugh, trying to take down some of the tension. “I’m just saying that he’ll probably want to make sure you aren’t dangerous is all. Which I bet you aren’t, I could never imagine someone like you being a pirate.” As if he’s trying to rub salt in the wound, he pokes at your chubby cheeks. Trying to get the message across that you couldn’t be less intimidating if you tried.

You shy away from the boy, turning your head to the side to get rid of his touch. You’re beginning to grow tired of his annoying advances. Immature and uncaring are all you see him as. Really, he’s just a boy. He’s about your age but it’s clear he’s been sheltered from the cruel chaos of the world. Hidden away to live an easy life on this island. But then again, perhaps you’re speaking too soon.

The snap of a twig brings you both out of the silence. Your heads shoot up in the direction of the noise. Only when you’ve been given the chance to look do you realize how fast night has fallen. The shadows swallow you whole. A cloak of darkness covers the sky, drowning out the ashes of the sun. The trees are tangled into one another, twisting and intertwining to create a confusing thicket. The black branches hold hands to ensure that you can not escape.

In a sudden flash of fear, you turn to Beomgyu for a solution. But the once bold boy now appears much more bashful than before. What were once witty comments and playful remarks have been transformed into a stolen silence. It’s so unlike Beomgyu to be without words, but suddenly, he finds himself fearful of what hides behind the trees. After all, when he’s alone with his own emotions, he’s just all bark and no bite.

You take a step back from the bushes, your hand brushing against Beomgyu’s as you come closer. He seems to have the same idea as he follows your footsteps. Further away from the sudden sound and farther into the forest.

“What was that?” You whisper.

“I don’t know.” He states simply.

You turn to look at him with a glare, “Aren’t you the one that lives on the island? Shouldn’t you know what animals come out after dark.” Your anger is quick to rise again. You really couldn’t be more unlucky, getting shipwrecked and stuck with the one boy that’s incapable of helping you.

Beomgyu doesn’t respond, instead he stares at the eyes in the dark. The irises are opposites, one shines like a star, filled with intrigue. While the other burns with an angry intensity, fueled by malice. The glowing eyes grow bigger as the creature comes closer. Silent footsteps travel fast and just before it jumps out of the bushes, you and Beomgyu break into a sprint.

You both run from the creature that crawls at night. It’s an imaginary monster that only exists in this eternal paradise: A Beast bound in blood from its last meal. An animal that runs rampant, blind with a burning rage. A corpse that decays in the dark, a poor past soul who didn’t survive.

These terrible thoughts run awry in your head. Torturing you with images of mangled monsters and other unknown that hunt at twilight. Tears of terror threaten to fall from your eyes, but you blink them back before Beomgyu can notice.

The smell of smoke burns through your throat. Taking in lungfuls has you coughing and struggling to catch your breath. Rotten rage is running right behind you. It grows closer, and closer, until all you can think about is the consequences of getting caught.

A tug to your wrist trips you up and tears you from your thoughts. Beomgyu pulls you up to run side by side. He holds your hand like you might leave him if he lets go.

“Are all humans this slow?” He speaks with exasperation. The subtle slip of unknown information leaves his lips before he can think twice.

“I’m going as fast as I can!” Your outburst of anger and panic is yelled at the top of your lungs. Your legs begin to burn, screaming at you to stop, but this chase will not stop until one of you has won. Either you outsmart the beast by hiding away, or die by being devoured. That thought is more than enough to keep you going.

Occasionally, Beomgyu steals a quick glance to his side. He can see the tears slipping past your fearless facade. Too embarrassed to admit you’re terrified to the arrogant boy and his relentless insults. Your hand is clasped tight in his. Beomgyu sees how you tremble and watches the tears that fall. A growing bit of guilt begins to settle in his stomach. He had been such a fool. Taking his time to toy with you when he knew nighttime was near. Although Beomgyu shares everything between his brothers, he’s not eager to share your sweet affections. He found you first so he believes he has some sort of entitlement over you. A pretty little plaything that is his to have. Beomgyu has always been reckless when it comes to expressing his emotions. The selfish sin makes him act stupid, and his fatal flaw might be the death of you.

As you run, fear follows after you. It’s hot on your heels and threatens to tear you apart. The beast is just behind you. You can feel its breath on the back of your neck. Your speed is no match for the monster. Beomgyu must be thinking the same thing, because he sweeps you away to somewhere safe.

His hands wrap around your hips roughly. No reason to be gentle in this time of distress. You’re shoved to the ground and dragged to a hidden hole in the dirt. Tree roots tangle around both your bodies. They provide protection and safety while the animal continues its hunt from up above. You can hear it sniffing at the surface, searching for where their fallen food ran off to. At the sound of it growing near, you cling closer to one another. Beomgyu pushes himself flush to the tree trunk behind him while pulling you closer to his chest. His heartbeat is erratic. Blood flowing like fear right through him. You can feel the rapid rhythm beating against your back.

His breathing is barely there. Too scared to suck in a single breath. You’re the exact opposite. Chest raising high with each heavy inhale. You’re beginning to hyperventilate. With your heart clenched tight in terror you’ve begun to lose your mind to emotion. A hand slowly slides over your mouth and for a second you freeze in fear. But it’s just Beomgyu trying to quiet your quick breathing. You turn to look at him. Your vision is blurred by the tears in your eyes but you can still make out the emotion on his face.

Beomgyu tries to hide his fear, he really does, but it slices at his skin until his heart begins to bleed out. His eyes sting with salty tears, they gather at his waterline and threaten to fall down his cherry cheeks. He’s an imitation of you, stuffing away the sadness and trying to hide his emotions. For the first time in a long time, a little bit of fear festers deep in his heart. He never meant to wander so far away from the others, but he got distracted by such a pretty little thing. He was so selfish, trying to steal you away before the others could find you, and now you both sit in an agonizing silence. Inches away from the Reaper’s wrath.

Truthfully, you don’t have any idea as to what type of animal is chasing you. You just know that it’s a bloodthirsty brute that’s hunting you down to hollow you out and eat your insides.

Fear is festering in your mind. Your imagination makes up memories of your worst fears. Putting together the pieces to create a bloodcurdling creature. You imagine the unknown monster to have fangs pierced with flesh and rotting red remains. It has bones that are broken free from its ribcage, resulting in the rattling sound it makes with every inhale. Each breath it takes feels closer than the last. They ring in your ears and you swear you can feel it breathing right over your shoulder.

Ruthless rage is torn from its throat as it lets out a growl in anguish; disappointed it let its prey fall too far. You can hear the sound of its claws digging into the wood just above your head. After its fit of anger, the monster runs off in what you can assume is a search for more meat. You can see its tail end as it trails off deeper into the dark forest. It has a fluffy tail that flicks in irritation. A slight hint as to what monster lurks on this lonely island. The only monster to ever make Beomgyu truly afraid.

You’re both too scared to make a move at first. You sit still and listen as the monster runs farther and farther off into the forest. After a few minutes, the only sound you can hear is the whistling wind and your heavy breathing.

But you both manage to bite down your fear and stand up from the dirt. Your head whips around to look at your surroundings, still paranoid that the monster may be somewhere near. With hands still held between you, Beomgyu leads you both down a path in the forest. The trail looks run down, years of footsteps trampling the flowers and grass that grows. You two take your time. You let your legs rest and catch your breath by walking slow. Your heartbeat is now in harmony with the rest of your body, no longer racing with adrenaline.

Each slow step you take feels heavier than the last. Fatigue is finally catching up to you. The amount of physical and emotional whiplash you’ve experienced today has deeply drained you. You’re too tired to talk or form a single thought, and slowly sleep begins to burden you. But before you can collapse and sleep through a thousand sunsets, a blinding light burns your eyes.

Four silhouettes stand in front of the sun. That sun being the little bit of light held in their hands. Torches are used to scare off the shadows and drive away the animosities. It also carves out the shadows of each boy’s features. Forever young and flawless faces are all that meets the eye. Their aura demands your attention and you wouldn’t dare to look away.

Are these the boys Beomgyu had mentioned earlier? If they are, will they welcome you with open arms or turn their backs on the outcast. A wave of unease rolls around in your stomach as the shortest boy steps forward. His big eyes are hidden behind a glare. Your heart burns hot under the heat of his gaze. Chest stinging and speech stolen, you start to shrink in on yourself. The boy breaks through the crowd and closes the distance. Now that there is nothing between you and his icy eyes, you wish you had been killed by the beast.

➜ ┊: (next) ᵎ ✰┊: (masterlist) ᵎ

taglist ; @intonvrlnd, @doitforbangchan, @lun4kazumii, @loumin908, @hearts4huening, @11thenightwemet11, @sthwaaberry, @lailols, @chuuswifereal, @junimoa03, @duckywuckypookiepie, @favoritegyu, @confusedabouteverythings, @soohashits, @marinette978

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spectorgram · 3 months ago

Text

rooftop

dick grayson x f! reader content: nsfw implications but not actual nsfw word count: 1.0k

The brisk autumn breeze feels good against your skin as you climb up onto the rooftop of the Gotham Museum of Art, necklace in hand. You peer down at it, the ruby and sapphires winking back at you in the moonlight. It’s beautiful and you’re sure Selina will be able to raise its price even higher.

You stretch your arms up, enjoying the pull in your back, and you’re about to make your egress when your ears prick up. The sound of footsteps makes you smile; how considerate of him to announce his arrival. “Lovely night we’re having,” Nightwing says from behind you.

“Perfect for a nighttime stroll, no?” you reply.

“Looks like you’re here for a little more than that, Pantheress,” he says.

You finally turn to face him, shamelessly drinking him in. The black and blue suit clings to him like a second skin and you bite the corner of your lip, meeting his eyes with a cheeky grin. “You’re more than welcome to join me on my walk,” you tell him.

Nightwing smiles back at you. “Sure thing,” he says. “I’ll just need to take that, though.” He motions to the jewelry in hand.

“If that’s your condition, I guess we’ll have to take a rain check.”

“I still can’t let you leave.”

“Aww, you like me that much, birdy?”

He gives you an exasperated look. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way.”

You hum, pretending to think as you stalk toward him. His eyes follow your moves and he doesn’t move, even as your chest brushes against him. You glance at him. What color are his eyes under that mask, you wonder. You imagine that they’re electric blue, just as pretty as the rest of him. “How about this?” You move your arm behind your back, tightening your grip on the necklace. “We do this my way.”

And in a flash, you take off. You leap from building to building, Nightwing not too far off. You slow just a little bit to glance back when the sound of footsteps disappear behind you. You smirk to yourself, but as you jump for another rooftop, a body intercepts you.

Nightwing twists his body to take the brunt of the force and you tumble on top of him. You hastily try to regain footing but he flips, pinning you beneath him. You realized belatedly that the necklace is no longer in your hand, your head lifting to look around. Then, you see his Nightwing’s hand. You make one, quick grab at it but he’s faster, jerking his arm away, prompting you to sigh, “Thought we were having fun, Wing.”

“There’s nothing fun about theft, Pantheress.”

“You and I both know that rich assholes won’t be hurting too much from the loss,” you hiss at him.

“Stealing isn’t right,” he says firmly, “no matter what.”

You roll your eyes. “But I don’t see you locking up any millionaires who are pushing people out of their neighborhoods and building luxury properties on top of them.”

“That’s because it’s within the confines of the law, and even if I don’t agree with it, it’s still legal.”

You scowl and swipe at him, the retractable claws in your gloves unsheathing. He dodges but the way he shifts his weight gives you just enough time to shove him off you and put some distance between the two of you.

“You never go down without a fight,” he says, pocketing the necklace — you’re not even sure how it’s possible in that skin-tight suit — and reaching for the two escrima sticks strapped to his back.

“I thought that’s what you like about me.”

He lunges for your first and you leap away, bobbing and weaving underneath the swing of his escrima sticks. You claws graze the fabric of his suit, tearing a hole in the sleeve. You aim a kick at his chest but he drops one of his batons, using his free hand to grab your ankle and spin you off balance. Before you fall, you manage to grab him, pulling him down with you. You land on your chest, a strangled grunt leaving your lips as Nightwing lands on top of you. “We need to stop meeting like this,” you pant.

He snorts in amusement on top of you, sitting up. You scoff when you hear the clink of handcuffs. “Is that really necessary?”

“You know theft is a crime. I have to take you in.” As he tries to fasten one cuff around your left wrist, you start squirming, hoping your movements would throw him off guard. Instead, he holds a firm's hand on the center of your back. “Stop moving,” he hisses. It takes you a beat to realize there’s something hardening against your back.

You snicker, “Guess you really are happy to see me, birdy.”

For once, there’s no clever quip to come out of his mouth. You squirm more, delighting in the way he struggles to deal with you and stopping any sound from escaping. Then, Nightwing’s weight is thrown off you suddenly and the sounds of a small scuffle reach your ears. You take the chance to see Selina standing behind you. She tilts her head at you, smirking. “I’ve never had to bail you out like this, kitten.”

“My hero.” You peer over his shoulder. “Is the Bat following you?”

“Should be here shortly,” she says. “So we should take our leave.”

Before Nightwing has a chance to stop you again, Selina ushers you to the edge of the building and you two leap, disappearing into the night.

Dick curses as he watches you fade into the darkness below. Bruce lands beside him, and Dick resheaths his escrima sticks. “They got away,” Bruce says, though he doesn’t sound too unhappy.

“Yeah,” Dick replies. Next time, he’ll catch you. The thought excites him, makes him antsy for the next encounter. “At least we got the necklace back.” When he reaches into his pocket, he finds empty space. “Shit.”

a/n: i don’t think this is my finest work and it’s a bit rushed but i really wanted to write for one of my favorite and most beloved characters so i hope you enjoyed

#✶ nove writes #dick grayson x reader #nightwing x reader #dc comics x reader #dc x reader #nightwing imagine #nightwing scenario

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knavesflames · 3 months ago

Note

hi!!! consider wandering into a gym and acting all weak so that pretty ladies will come up and offer to help you

i'm talking pretty ladies with ABS!!! dehya, clorinde, arlecchino, beidou, rosaria (take your pick, pookers)

i'm the weakest mf, i'd ask for a spotter to lift 5 lbs 😇 just to see the pretty women fr

Hi pookie!! I know you’re feeling down lately so I thought I’d try to prioritise this one for now😮 first post ever that isn’t Arlecchino based!! How crazy:0 time to give Dehya some well deserved love, I think..

Word count: 1181

Content: silly reader does not know the gym, dehya is a sweetie but also horny for reader, grinding on abs

Nsft utc!

When you walk into the gym, it’s more than obvious you are NOT a regular. Your appearance isn’t what gives it away (though it doesn’t help), it’s the fact you’re utterly adorable clueless with all the equipment. Even though you’re desperately trying to figure it out, nothing about what you’re doing is correct. From the way you struggle to lift a 4kg weight, to the way you aren’t even tall enough to reach the equipment that isn't the height of your waist or lower. You’re tiny. She feels bad for you in the beginning, and she does what no other woman in the gym does. She goes up to you, reaching to take down whatever equipment you need, spotting you even when you lift the smallest amount of weight possible. She sets the machines up correctly for you too, quietly letting you know that you’re doing it wrong. She doesn’t make it obvious, no, she knows how it could be embarrassing for you. You’re just so inexperienced.

She adores it. She’s been watching you since the day you started coming to this specific gym. Your tight clothes she knows you’re wearing to look more toned than you are. The way you struggle with every machine, the way you look around to copy other people’s motions. The way you stare at her when she’s training her muscles. Dehya is no idiot, not in the slightest, and you’re not subtle in the slightest. If anything, she enjoys the attention she’s getting from you, and she plays up to it. Lifting more than she needs to just to watch the rise and fall of your chest, grunting louder than she usually does to relish in the way your eyes glaze as you think of her grunting as she fucks you. She’s teasing you, and she loves every second of it.

So, she decides, after six long months, does she interact with you directly. Dehya, being Dehya, is just a little bored of watching you react so far away from her. She wants to hear your breathing, hear your muttered responses to her as she makes your mind go blank. You’re shy, though, she’s gathered that much, so she’ll be kind, she thinks. She’ll do it in a way that’s just as good for you both. Before she can think of what she’s doing, she’s tying her locks into a ponytail at the back of her head, careful not to put too much strain on the strands by her ears, and she’s calling out to you from across the gym.

“Hey, pretty girl,” she drawls, loud enough that your head whips around, your eyes wide at the idea of finally being noticed by the girl you’ve been pining over, the whole reason you’re going to the gym. “Come here and help me, yeah? Thanks, doll.”

You drop the weight you’re holding immediately (one you had strained to even pick up), almost scrambling over. You wait, bouncing your foot as you glance at her. You watch as Dehya moves into an exercise you’ve seen her do often, one you’ve always secretly (not so secretly, she knows) admired her doing. She lowers herself down to the floor before her eyes, blue as sapphires, focus on you again. “Sit here,” she pats the area around her hips softly, looking up at you expectantly.

“What?” You manage to splutter out words, looking at her with widened eyes almost in horror at the prospect. Only because you know immediately what’ll happen, and you already feel the coil in your stomach tighten at the idea. Somehow, though, you can’t resist from gingerly perching yourself on the side of her hip, only for Dehya to tut and shake her head with a grin.

“No, straddle me. I can’t exercise if I’m worried you’re gonna fall off, can I, doll?” She raises an eyebrow, just waiting, and eventually, you obey her, moving until your entire weight rests on her. She hums in approval, her hands finding your waist, her thumbs stroking the skin a little too intimately. “Good girl, see? God, you’re tiny.”

The words she says are breathless as she eyes you. She’s not ashamed either, the smirk on her face tells you that much, but a few seconds later, she’s using your body weight to do hip thrusts, grunting with every rep, enjoying your ever flushing face.

After a while, Dehya is past her usual rep count, and you know it, too, but she’s not stopping. She’s barely counting, and she’s more concentrated on the way her hands are squeezing ever so gently around your waist, and the way one of her hands is sliding towards your hip.

She knows it’s late at night, there isn’t anybody else here now. Everyone left a while ago, so she takes the chance. A risky move, and she does it anyway, faking innocence, like she has no idea what she’s doing. Her abs are already slick from the sweat continuously gathering, and despite you being clothed, she moves you gently towards her stomach. Her hip thrusts have slowed to a halt now, though, just to keep up the innocence she’s been feigning, she does another, but only to hide the way she ever so gently glides your clothed core against her abs.

She loves the way you gasp at the feeling of it, the way your lips part ever so slightly. So, she does the same thing. Three times, until her hip thrusts have stopped once again. No longer is she exercising, opting instead to make the pretty girl at the gym gasp and sigh in pleasure. Dehya eventually becomes more bold, one thumb tracing the band of your leggings, whispering sweet nothings about how wants to see you without them. Each word of hers, whispered with so much affection brings you closer and closer to whatever sort of cliff you’re approaching. Your hips? They don’t even need guidance from her anymore, they’re moving by themselves thanks to encouragement and praise from the woman below you.

“Good girl, just like that. Aw, you’re so tiny. So tiny you can move right across them, can’t you? You should come to the gym late at night more often.” She chuckles, moving you faster as you moan into the air. They’re stifled moans, but moans nonetheless, and her eyes light up the second she feels you trembling as your orgasm crashes over you in powerful waves. You grip her hand hard, and the hand that isn’t being crushed by your own comes to stroke your hair, her voice talking you through it.

“Yeah, that’s it. Come on, let it happen, yeah? It’s good, right? My favourite form of exercise.”

You cannot resist the abrupt, hoarse laughter that spills from your lips at her final comment. What an odd way of breaking the ice, you think, though the ice melted the second she gave you that first glance. Maybe you can employ her to be your personal trainer, or something. Maybe you can admit you only come to the gym for her, and invite her to your place.

#🐱 𝔎𝔦𝔱𝔱𝔶 #🔥 𝔎𝔫𝔞𝔳𝔢𝔰𝔣𝔩𝔞𝔪𝔢𝔰 𝔦𝔫𝔟𝔬𝔵 #Dehya #genshin dehya #gi dehya #dehya x reader #dehya smut #Dehya genshin #Dehya genshin impact #Dehya x you #Dehya omg #genshin impact #genshin #genshin smut #genshin wlw #genshin x reader #genshin x you

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the-kr8tor · 6 months ago

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May I request an aquarium date with Hobie? thank you!

AHHHH aquarium date!! Thank you for requesting! ❤️❤️❤️

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, FLUFF

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

The aquarium stretches far and wide, brilliant blue flooding your vision, the water from above warbles the light bathing over you. A giant manta ray swims above, as if it flies overhead with its huge ‘wings’. You grab Hobie by his leather clad arm, pointing at the elegant fish.

“Look at that one! It's huge!”

“That's what she said—” Hobie clamps his mouth shut with the glare you're giving him. “I mean, he's a huge lad, love.” You smile sweetly, replacing your scowl. “Just like me, eh?” Shaking your head with a laugh, you thank the fact that you both decided to go during the weekday, when there's only a handful of people walking about. “What? It's true!” He leans towards your ear, blowing hot air to tease you further.

Instead of the annoyed reaction he expects, you quickly move your head to chase his lips. Kissing him quickly with a light smack from your lips. “Was your comment retaliation for the crocodile? I'm sorry that I pointed to that one crocodile and said that it was you.” You remember the amphibian with its spikes and slim scaly body, Hobie was properly amused but he hid his amusement with him threatening to push you towards the enclosure. (Which he would never do of course.)

He purses his lips, your cherry lip gloss still lingering on him, making his lips all sticky, yet he loves the taste of you. “Maybe I should keep makin’ comments like that,” draping his arm around your shoulders, he pulls you closer. “If my only punishment is getting your chapstick on me.”

You look at him through your eyelashes, the cool temperature of the aquarium makes your eyes dry, but it's all worth it when Hobie picks at the fallen lashes on your cold cheeks. The water above is reflected in your lovestruck eyes, he thinks he could drown in them. He chooses to drown in them.

“Are you gonna be like this until we reach the penguins?” You ask, pretending to be normal even with him looking at you like how a sailor looks at the vast ocean. With reverence and love for the deep depths that cradles them to sleep.

“‘m gonna be like this forever, love.”

You beam at him, under the sapphire shine of the water, you've never seen a much prettier sight than the one before you. He holds onto you like you're a fish out of water. You might as well be when your irises are blown out like sea shells.

Hobie sighs, not like a tired or exasperated sigh, but a longing sigh like he's only seeing you through a photograph. You loop your arms around the back of his neck to remind him you're real and you're standing right in front of him. You're definitely glad that you're the only people in the area right now.

“Good, I like you like this.”

“Flirty? Awfully in love with you?” His hands drop to your hip, warm palms holding you. You're glad that he is or you might've melted into a puddle, you'd get added to the exhibit that way.

“Nope, I mean, yeah, that's nice. I meant happy, I love it when you're happy.”

“Because you're happy, that's why. Can't have you bein’ the only happy one, eh?”

You giggle, nosing the tip of his nose. Hobie continues, before you could blatantly cause PDA. “You look like the blobfish we passed by.”

Your laugh echoes in the tunnel of marine life.

#the kr8tor's creations #hobie brown x reader #spider punk x reader #atsv fanfic #atsv x reader #atsv imagine #atsv hobie #x reader #hobie brown x fem!reader #hobie brown x you #spider punk x fem!reader #spider punk x you #hobie fluff #hobie x reader #fanfic #request done

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dingus11111 · 10 months ago

Text

So… I binged Castlevania: Nocturne the day it came out.. Now I can’t get over Edouard. I literally love him so much, so without further ado…

NIGHT CREATURE!EDOUARD X NIGHT CREATURE!MALE READER

Warnings: NSFW, AMAB anatomy, horny reader, horny Edouard, soft sex, gentle sex, sub!bottom reader, dom!top Edouard, OOC (sorry), feminine reader, size kink, rimming, and teratophillia.

FEM/FEM ALIGNED DNI

You had died to one of the vampires living in the chateau and were, of course, thrown into the pile of dead bodies to be turned into a night creature.

☆♪☆♪☆♪☆♪☆♪☆♪☆♪☆♪☆♪☆♪☆♪

The doors of the machine from hell slowly opened with a loud hiss. Steam enveloped your body as you stepped out from the machine forsaken by (the) god(s).

The steam gradually let up, your silhouette became more and more visible. You had an overall human looking body, with the exception of 2 pairs of arms, 4 eyes, 6 horns all differing in sizes, and rosy pink colored skin that was more on the deep red side than pink yet it was still pink. Your eyes glimmered a bright red, and a pair of white wings sat upon your back. You had long, maroon hair that cascaded down your back. It was silky and straight. Your mouth was filled with sharp, white teeth. Your torso was completely exposed; the only clothes you had on was a white loin cloth that did it’s job.

As you stepped out, you stayed silent. You were confused and unaware of what and where you were. Suddenly words rang in your ears, and you knew that you must obey.

“Guard the cell of the night creature who’s eyes shine like sapphires,” the Abbot commanded.

You growled as a way to signal that you understood.

“Good. Now go,” the Abbot ordered.

☆♪☆♪☆♪☆♪☆♪☆♪☆♪☆♪☆♪☆♪☆♪

As you approached the cell you were meant to guard, angelic singing pierced your ears.

As a high note was sung, your eyes widened.

“Why am I guarding this cell?” You thought to yourself.

You sat down next to the cell and looked at the night creature who was in it. Your jaw dropped. He was the most beautiful thing you have ever seen. His wavy, long hair that was almost as long as yours gently fell down his back and shoulders. Massive wings that resembled a bat emerged from his back. Horns protruded from his face and head. A gold streak on his lips, and gold, sharp, fingernails adorned the two hands that covered his face as if he was hiding himself. His eyes pierced through you. The blue encompassing your vision. You could only focus on those beautiful eyes. Those sweet eyes. Those eyes that glowed.

Edouard had stopped singing a while back, he was now looking at you. You didn’t notice, you were too busy staring at him.

“Hello?” He spoke.

You blushed in embarrassment.

“Ah- sorry.” You managed to choke out.

Embarrassing yourself in front of such a beautiful man/night creature was not on your bucket list.

You sit down, keeping watch and “guarding” his cell but in reality you were just watching him and only looking away when he glanced at you.

You began to get more self conscious, and shy. Your loin cloth suddenly felt like it didn’t cover enough. You wish your long hair was longer to completely enshroud your body so that he wouldn’t see it.

Edouard noticed this and chuckled. You didn’t seem to be like the other night creatures. You still had some humanity left in you. He found it cute that you were so shy. So adorable. So breedable. Wait, what? Did he just think that? Edouard blushed as his own thought, embarrassed by it just as much as you were embarrassed by your little amount of clothing.

“You seem cold, baby.” He played it cool.

“Would you like to join me in my cell?” He smiled sweetly.

Your eyes widened at the offer. How could you decline? You looked around you with haste, scanning for any other night creatures. You then quickly made your way into his cell.

As soon as you entered it, he rushed towards you and held you close. You flinched, surprised by the unexpected display of affection.

"Please forgive me... I can't control myself.." Edouard whispered lustfully in your ear.

Your breath hitched when you felt something hard against your thigh. You looked down. Pure surprise was the only thing you felt.

A large dick about 9 inches long and 2 inches in diameter was up against your thigh. It only made sense the Edouard was so big due to the fact that he was around 7-8 feet tall.

As you looked down at his hard sexual organ, you began to blush. Yearning and want settled in your brain, taking over your senses. Corrupting them.

You shyly gazed back up at Edouard, a heavy blush covering your face. Your eyes glimmered red as you spoke.

“I don’t even know your name, and yet… I long for you.” You uttered, not knowing where the sudden boldness came from.

He pushed you to the stone wall of the cell, still hugging you.

“It’s Edouard.” He seductively whispered in your ear.

Edouard quickly picked you up, so you were the same height as him. You wrapped your legs around his waist for stability. One pair of arms wrapped around his neck, and the other pair was flush against the wall.

He moved his face from the crook of your neck to in front of your face, just inches away.

As he closed the distance between your lips and his, he muttered something.

“So pretty like this.”

You two began to make out intensely. His tongue pushed against yours, creating swirls and spins together. His hands crept up to your chest, his thumb brushing against one of your nipples. His other hand rested on your hip.

As he broke the kiss, you panted heavily. Even in your human life, you had never kissed someone like that before. Your cock was hard, and leaked against the confines of the loincloth.

Edouard took notice of this and chuckled.

“I have a feeling you’re enjoying this.”

You nodded. Your face was painted with a heavy blush. All you wanted was him.

He leaned back in and kissed your neck. His soft kisses trailed down to your chest. One hand played with one nipple, while he sucked on the other. His tongue swirled around the now hardened bud causing your back to arch in pleasure. A bead of precum leaked from your still clothed dick.

“Ahn!~” You moaned.

You had never felt anything like this. The back of your head gently hit the stone wall. Whimpers and gasps spilled from your mouth like hot lava from a volcano.

He retreated his head away from your chest and back up so that he was at eye level to you. He was panting just slightly.

“I’ve never wanted someone this badly.” His hot breath puffed onto your face.

Edouard then put you down so that you were standing.

“Can you turn around and lean against the wall for me, baby?”

You turned around, excited as to what would happen.

When you leaned against the wall, Edouard grasped your hips and pulled them out. He proceeded to undo your loincloth. Your hard cock sprang out, precum dribbling down the shaft.

Edouard kneeled down, still behind you and spread your ass cheeks. Your hole fluttered for him.

“My nails are too sharp to finger you, love. I hope you can enjoy what I’m about to do as a replacement.” He spoke.

Your face turned bright red in embarrassment. The expression of shame was wiped off your face and replaced with one of pleasure.

“Fuck!” You gasped.

His tongue swirled against your hole and occasionally pushed in. He was eating you out like you were a 5 star meal. A soft groan escaped his throat as he thrusted his tongue in and out of your hole.

Loud moans flew out of you and filled the cell, even roaming down the halls to the other night creatures.

Edouard stopped rimming you, and quickly smacked him palm over your mouth.

“Please be quiet, dear. You wouldn’t want to get caught, would you?”

He breathed onto your neck before sinking his fangs into you and biting down, drawing blood.

“Mmphh!~” You screamed against his palm.

Your dick twitched from the intimate pain. Another bead of precum appeared on the tip.

He soothed over the bite with his tongue, lapping up the blood. His arms snaked around your waist, holding you close to him as he continued to lick the bite.

Once he was done, you were trembling mess. You wanted him so badly. Wanted him inside of you.

“Would you like to continue?” Edouard asked, wanting to make sure you still wanted this.

You nodded vigorously, wanting him more than anything.

He turned you around and picked you up so that your pretty chest was flush against his own defined pecs. You wrapped both sets of arms around him and your legs followed suit. He held you with one arm as he guided his large cock to your hole. He slowly sunk you onto it; the delicious burn singed through you. A hiss of pleasure and pain erupted from your plump lips.

“Shhh… It’s okay, baby.. it’ll feel good really soon.” Edouard cooed.

Eventually, he bottomed out. Edouard held you there, feeling your tightness get used to his girth.

Soon enough, you signaled for him to move and he obeyed. He slowly bounced you up and down on his shaft. You let out a soft moan of ecstasy.

As If overcome by something, you gained enough confidence to pull his face into a sloppy and passionate make out session as he continued to fuck you. Your tongues danced while your bodies moved in sync for each other.

He adjusted the angle just a bit, and hit your prostate dead on. Your eyes went wide and mouth fell slack. No noise came out of you. You trembled. He continued to pound into that spot. Your eyes rolled back as you tried to stifle your moans.

“G- gonna cum!” You whisper yelled.

Edouard grunted before responding.

“Me too, my love..”

He sped up, wanting you to feel even better. You cried out in bliss as you came all over his and your abdomen. He still pounded into you after you came, chasing his own release. He placed one hand against the back of your head and brought you towards him for another lustful, heavy kiss. As you kissed, there was a hint of sweetness. Suddenly, a low growl emitted from his throat as he came. He stopped moving you and came inside of you, filling you to the brim. Cum leaked from your hole, even though he was still inside. He slowly pulled out; his cum dripped from your gaping hole, down your thighs and legs.

He still held you close as he sat down with you. He pulled you even closer to him.

“You’re so beautiful.” Edouard smiled happily at you.

He stroked your head lovingly as you fell asleep next to him.

(I didn’t know night creatures could sleep, but they do now.)

“Goodnight, baby.”

SO! That was my first smut fic posted on this account! YIPPEE! It was kinda short, so sorry about that- 😭😭😭

If you have any requests, feel free to ask, I’ll try my best to write them!

ALRIGHT- love you guys! Bye! 🫶🫶🫶

#fanfiction #castlevania edouard #castlevania #castlevania nocturne #male reader smut #castlevania x reader #x male reader #male reader #x bottom male reader #bottom male reader

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inoreuct · 1 year ago

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what if, and hear me out: sanji one day grabs zoro's hand so they could run together away from some bad guy and zoro develops a dreadfully deep seated longing to hold sanji's hand (when he's not cooking ofc). it drives him insane. he cant sleep. sanji's hand is so Soft. Why??? Why does he want to feel it again??? he wants to yell into the sunset

they're sprinting through the streets, skidding into random alleyways and falling over each other as they try to outrun whoever's chasing them and sanji's laughing, head thrown back and eyes blue as the damn sky, his hair in absolute disarray. he's beautiful and his hand is warm and slim and strong around zoro's and it hits zoro like a fucking bullet to the heart.

the memory haunts him like a particularly persistent ghost. he closes his eyes and all he can think about is sanji's fingers laced with his, lightly calloused, nails filed down to a perfect glossy sheen and skin butter-smooth from the hand cream that the cook is so adamant about using. his laugh rings in zoro's ears like the echo of a bell, merry, taunting— the swordsman is half-sure he’s losing his mind. he is one more restless night away from climbing to the top of the main mast and hollering until he scares seagulls up into the air.

as it turns out, he does not go seagull scaring. he carries on and keeps an iron grip on his self-control and acts like nothing’s wrong, because nothing’s wrong! it’s all fine! it’s all fine, who, him? peachy fuckin’ keen.

…yeah, right.

sanji’s fingertips brush his and he nearly drops the plate he’s just taken. the cook hip-checks him out of the way and he damn near chokes on a breath. they spar and he almost dies, not just because of everything, but also because sanji gets his thighs around zoro’s neck in a chokehold and zoro just gives up. throws in the proverbial towel. he doesn’t even try to get out of it.

strong, slender fingers drag him by the ear back to the men’s cabin to pick up your fucking clothes, marimo, what is this? a pigsty? because it looks like one and it smells like one, do you really expect me to— and sanji cuts himself off, because zoro’s. picking up his clothes. he looks so bewildered at the lack of protest that zoro almost laughs, and he hides it by bending down to snag a pair of pants peeking out from under his bunk. (he decidedly does not laugh, because it has suddenly hit him that he’d probably do just about anything sanji asked him to. he might complain, sure, but he’d do it—

and that is a terrifying thought to entertain.)

the days carry on, and it doesn’t get any better; hell, zoro would say it gets so much worse. his heart seems to recognise every touch of sanji’s skin as cause to go absolutely fucking bonkers; chopper literally asks him if he has a family history of arrhythmia. it’s that bad. he tries to go to sleep and imagines sanji, one bunk up, in his bunk instead, his fingers tangled in flaxen hair, his free hand laced with sanji’s. he eats dinner and gets hit with a pang of desire to help with the dishes so strong that he almost stabs himself in the face with his fork. there is something wrong with him, he thinks profoundly, a familiar sense of gloomy dread spreading in his sternum as he rests his chin in his hand, like an oil spill marbled through with potent fondness.

they’re forced to get their shit together in the end but only because luffy manages to get them locked in the galley while franky is “too occupied” to get them out. (he isn’t. he’s sunbathing on the damn deck and absolutely in on the plan.)

zoro’s barely breathing as he goes up to sanji, eyes wild, and as soon as the cook looks at him he smacks a big fat kiss on his mouth and yells OKAY BYE. he’s seriously considering jumping out the porthole window but someone snags his collar and yanks him back, pinning him in against the countertop.

“and where do you think you’re going?” sanji purrs, but it’s breathless. his eyes are sea-sky-sapphire blue, like the heart of a flame, and zoro is the stupid little moth that was too damn dumb to fly away when he could and now he’s in the thick of it and he’s burning up, smoke drifting like it does from the tip of sanji’s cigarette.

the edge of the counter digs into his back. “nowhere,” he breathes, and it’s a lie and too much of the truth all at once. anywhere away from here. nowhere away from you. nowhere i can’t find you. nowhere you can’t follow.

sanji sucks in a trembling breath, electric eyes searching for something in zoro’s face, and he must find it because the next moment zoro’s being kissed within an inch of his life and the only thought in his head is yes, yes, yes. finally. yes.

they walk out red-faced, hair mussed, clothes twisted, avoiding all eye contact and immediately darting off to opposite ends of the ship with mumbled excuses.

zoro’s mouth is kiss-bruised and his head is spinning. his hip aches where he’d banged into the edge of the table. his heart aches where he’s finally let go of the wound he’d been holding shut for ages because now it’s bleeding afresh and sanji hasn’t stitched it up yet.

(but that night, as he lays awake heavy-limbed and staring at the bottom of a bunk, long legs swing over the side. sanji drops down, angling himself to land on zoro with a soft oof.

they talk. it is easier, somehow, when they cannot see each other— but zoro knows those blue, blue eyes are on him. he feels them slip shut, lashes dragging against the pad of his thumb as he tilts sanji’s face for another kiss; softer, this time. gentle. a banked flame flickering in the hearth, warmth and not destruction.

they fit together like their hands do, puzzle-piece natural, and it feels like coming home. zoro hasn’t known home in a very, very long time.

he buries his face in silky, sweet-smelling hair and falls asleep with sanji’s pulse thrumming beneath his palm.

come morning, he wakes to find the sheets twisted around them, a dull ache blooming across his shin— sanji’s a kicker. being privy to this information delights him an unreasonable amount.

the cook stretches with a loud yawn, arms falling to rest around zoro’s neck as he rubs his socked feet together. “come make breakfast with me,” he mumbles, the words muffled against zoro’s shoulder—

and zoro finally lets himself laugh, lets it bubble out of him like champagne, a rumble in his chest. “sure, curly. five more minutes.”

he feels impossibly light. five minutes turn into ten, and ten into twenty. they both fall back asleep. their captain will have to settle breakfast himself for the day; their cook’s hands are, unfortunately, otherwise occupied.)

#it’s… 3am again…#zosan #one piece zosan #op zosan #roronoa zoro #zoro #black leg sanji #sanji #zoro x sanji #one piece #ino’s ask box #ino writes

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