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agreeeeeeeeeee · 29 days ago

Note

HI ALLIE CONGRATULATIONS ON YOUR 1000 FOLLOWERS I THINK ABSOLUTELY DESERVED BECAUSE YOUR WORK IS INCREDIBLE YOU ATE THAT UP SLAYYYYYYYYYYYYY

I............ I have never submitted a request, unless I was explicitly asked by the writer because ksjdjdjjjsjsj ME ASKING FOR SOMETHING?????? SNSJSJSJ ANYWAY I was like it should be fine because it's for your celebration SOOO hear me out. Remus Lupin ? IM GOING THRU A REMUS THING ? 1000 scars/1000 glances???? WHICHEVER IS FINE YOURE GONNA EAT WITH THAT

WEE OK BYE I LOVE YOU BYE

xxx

ilysm and I hope this only deepens your Remus fixation 🫶🏻 thank you so much for all of your love and support, I genuinely get excited when I see you pop up in my feed or notifs. my favorite hanni 🤍

1000 inked scars | R.L.

feat. Remus Lupin x tattooartist!reader

cw: mdni 18+, possessive!Remus, marking kink, oral (fem receiving), tattoo needles and tattooing, mentions of injury and scars, probably inaccurate representation of tattooing in the 70's, no war

1000 things prompt list (closes feb 1!) | masterlist

“Quit squirming or I’m going to turn this constellation into a penis,” you griped, lifting your machine from Sirius’ leg.

“Maybe if you didn’t handle that gun like a cudgel—”

You slapped his fresh tattoo and he yelped. “Pull yourself together, Black. You’re almost done.”

He groaned, slumping back onto the table with his arms slung over his head. “Sadist,” he hissed.

You resumed your tattooing, packing black ink to the map of stars. “Said the masochist that paid me to stab him a million times.”

He glanced down at you. “Are you flirting with me?”

You glared up at him.

Just then, the bell on the front door or you shop chimed. A tall man with sandy hair, dressed in jeans and thick sweater stood in the foyer, looking around at the art and plants strewn about. Given your profession, you immediately noticed his lack of tattoos, and the scars marring his hands and neck, one even stretching from his sharp jaw towards his nose.

“Moony!” Sirius called, jerking his leg and nearly inking himself.

“Sirius,” you bit, but he was already out of the chair.

“What’s—uh, what’s up, Pads?” the stranger, Moony?, said, glancing down at Sirius’ rolled up pant leg and the nearly finished tattoo on his calf. Then, his eyes flicked to you, a deep brown and sallow with exhaustion, but his beauty struck you like a blow, the lines of his face coalescing in a way that would make the great painters weep.

Based on the countless stories Sirius had told you in the hours spent on your table, you surmised that this was Remus Lupin, his level-headed, long-suffering schoolmate.

“I wanted you to meet my friend!” Sirius grabbed his by the elbow and dragged him towards your station.

You sighed and set your machine aside. Clearly, you were taking a break.

“Remus, this is y/n, the architect of my beauty,” Sirius said, gesturing grandly in your direction.

You slid off one of your gloves and extended it to Remus. “Pleasure. I’ve heard loads about you.”

“Oh?” Remus asked, shaking your hand with a light touch, his skin warm and a bit rough. “Terrible things, I wager?”

“The worst,” you chuckled, and the corner of his mouth twitched up into a half-smile.

“Well, then there’s no where to go but up,” he said with a cheeky wink, and your heart damn near leaped out of your mouth.

“I asked Moony to come hang out for the last bit of the tattoo so he could pick your brain,” Sirius said, hopping back up onto the table.

“Sirius—”

“Pick my brain about what?” You asked, pulling up a chair for Remus and sitting back onto your stool, putting on a fresh pair of gloves.

“I, uh—”

“Moony wants to know if you can tattoo over scars,” Sirius said, earning a glare from Remus.

“Absolutely!” you chirped, hoping to dispel Remus’ clear discomfort. “Just takes a few extra passes, but it shouldn’t be an issue.”

Remus gave you a small, grateful smile. “Really?”

“Really. I’ve tattooed over dozens of scars, cover-ups, or decorations. I’d love to work with you.” Merlin, did you just say that out loud? You needed to get it together; you were a professional.

“See, Moons? I told you!” Sirius propped his leg back up, and you fired up the machine. “And it doesn’t even hurt.”

You lowered the machine back to his leg, taking a few quick warm up strokes.

“AHH YOU WITCH!” Sirius wailed. You and Remus both jumped at his shouting, but he quickly dissolved into laughter. “Bloody hell, I knew you two would get along. You’ve got twin scowls,” Sirius chuckled, leaning back against the table with his hands behind his head.

You glanced at Remus, and he looked back at you. A flicker of connection flared between you, and heat rose in your cheeks. Quickly, you looked away, turning your attention back to Sirius’ tattoo.

“So, what are you thinking you want to get, Rem?” Sirius asked after a few moments of quiet, the buzzing of the machine filling the air.

Remus shrugged. “Hadn’t really thought about it. Just wanted to do…something.”

“Well, if you want, we can try and cover any up. But I find that people really get more out of going the decorative route,” you supplied, looking at Remus while you picked up more ink. “I can hand draw a few designs that flow with the scar, turn it into an art piece itself.”

Remus was quiet for a moment, contemplative, and Sirius gave you a knowing smile. “I think I might like that, yeah,” Remus said, his voice soft, almost awestruck. Like he’d never ever considered the possibility before.

As a tattoo artist, you were intimately aware of how much a person’s skin could impact their well being, scars in particular weighed heavily on many people’s spirit. Remus, it seemed, was no exception.

Sirius guided the conversation in another direction, giving Remus a chance to process the implications of what you offered, and you finished the tattoo half-an-hour later. While you were wiping it down, Remus hovered over you, looking down at the piece.

“You’re really good,” he murmured, close enough that you could smell the wool of his sweater, the lingering notes of cinnamon and tea from his cologne. “It’s beautiful.”

“Thanks, Rem,” you said, smiling up at him, and he smiled back, a flush creeping up his neck before he hurriedly stepped away.

You patched up Sirius and sent the boys on their way, an appointment for Remus on the books for the following week. All he’d given you to work with was placement, his forearm, and that he wanted something natural, like a plant.

Having no more appointments for the evening, you folded yourself into your studio couch with your sketchbook. You sketched a few things, lavender and roses and chamomile, but your fingers itched to draw something else. Remus’ profile floated into your minds eye, sorrowful and striking, and your pen started to move of it’s own accord. His expression came to life under your hand, with long lashes and a crooked nose and that jagged scar.

You clapped your sketchbook shut, sitting back with a sigh.

Next week couldn’t come quickly enough.

You paced around your shop, pouring over your sketch for Remus. You wanted it to be perfect for him, lest you scare him off a tattooing forever.

The door chimes, startling you out of your concentration, and Remus strode in, carrying a tray of drinks and a paper bag

“Morning!” You chirped, hugging your sketchbook to your chest.

“Morning,” he said, passing you one of the cups. “I asked Sirius what you liked, so if it's awful, blame him.”

Butterflies fluttered to life in your stomach. It wasn't unusual for clients to bring you coffee and food, but with Remus it felt…different.

“Oh! You didn't have to do that. Thank you, Remus,” you said, taking a sip. It was your favorite drink, and it's familiar warmth settled some of your nerves.

He gave you a small smile, but you could tell he was nervous. He set the bag on your desk. “I also brought some pastries. Sirius mentioned you like chocolate?”

“I love chocolate.” You beamed. “Come on in, we can sit over here and go over the design.”

Remus nodded, shirking his coat and following you over to the couch. He was like an anxious thundercloud, tense and unsteady, and it made your chest tight with empathy.

“How are you feeling?” You asked, patting the spot beside you.

He sat down, coiled in on himself despite his long limbs. Like he was afraid to take up too much space. “Ah, fine,” he replied, taking a sip of his drink. Earl gray, from the smell of it.

You arched a brow. “It's okay to be nervous, Rem,” you said. “But it's just us, and nothing is set in ink. If you change your mind, it's totally fine.”

“It's just—” he sighed, lifting his arm. He started to roll up his shirt sleeve, dexterous fingers folding the fabric neatly over itself, revealing inch after inch of his forearm. Lightly tanned and taut with lean muscle, veins tangling with the map of scars littering his skin.

He watched your face, gauging your reaction. You tried to stay neutral, but you were practically salivating. He was so beautiful.

“Are they too bad?” He asked, his voice rough with tension.

You met his brown eyes. “Not at all.” You pulled out your sketchbook, flipping to the page you had ear marked. “And it's perfect for what I sketched up.”

He managed a half-smile, some of the clouds disappearing from his aura, and accepted the sketchbook when you handed it to him. His eyes widened.

“Goldenrod,” you said, shifting closer to look at the sketch over his shoulder. “Used to treat pain.”

Remus traced his finger over the tangle of stems, the delicate florals. “I take it almost everyday,” he murmured, looking over at you, his eyes warm and full of something you couldn't quite place.

“So, what do you think?” You asked, your gazes lingering on one another.

“I think it's perfect,” he said, and you smiled, genuinely thrilled that he liked it.

“Okay, ready for me to start sketching?” You asked, and he nodded. You led him over to your station, already set up and waiting for him, and he hoped up onto the chair,, his long limbs dangling near to the floor. To break the quiet, you put on a muggle record, and Remus seemed to relax a bit, sipping on his tea and watching you putter around through dark lashes.

When you settled onto your stool, ink pen in hand, anxiety bloomed in your stomach. Remus was about to watch you draw on him. You’d drawn on hundreds of clients, but like everything else, with Remus it felt…different.

“It might tickle,” you warned, resting his arm where you wanted it, your fingertips tingling from the contact. “And try to stay very still.”

“Whatever you say, love,” he murmured, getting comfortable. Entirely oblivious to the way the petname made your thoughts turn to static.

You placed your sketchbook just beside his arm and made the first line, a quick stem arching alongside a scar stretching from wrist to elbow. Slowly, line after line, the sketch started to come together, flowing with the natural shape of his forearm and it’s scars. You got lost in the act, sinking into the labor of creating.

It wasn’t until Remus made a soft, approving hum in his throat that you peaked up him, breaking your focus. His eyes were almost sleepy, heavy-lidded and soft and the corners, a smile tugging at his lips.

“No wonder Sirius like this so much,” he said, tracing your face with his eyes. “Watching you work is fascinating.”

Heat roared to your cheeks. “Oh, I don’t—he seems more interested in teasing me than letting me work.”

“That does sound like Sirius,” he chuckled. “I like your focused face much more than that scowl.”

Merlin, what was happening to you? You felt like you could melt into your chair like a pile of pudding. Was he flirting with you? Or does he always talk like a romance book hero?

“How long have you guys known each other?” You asked, changing the subject and ducking back down to your work to hide your expression.

“Decade at least,” Remus said. “We met our first year at Hogwarts. Never thought I’d befriend the Sirius Black, but y’know, stranger things have happened.”

“Why’d you think that?”

Remus shrugged, the muttered a soft apology for moving. “Sirius is…Sirius, and I’m…”

“Charming? Sweet? Clever?” You asked, glancing up at him. “Sirius talks about you like you hung the moon.”

A flush creeped up his neck. “He’s dramatic.”

“And brutally honest,” you said, holding his gaze.

“Can I ask you something?” Now it was his turn to change the subject.

“Of course,” you said, capping your pen and setting it aside.

“Why haven’t you, ah, asked?” He glanced down at his scars, and you know what he was implying.

You shrugged. “I figured you’d tell me if you felt comfortable. I’m not here to pry, just help.”

His eyes flitted over your face, swallowing hard, and it seemed he was at a loss for words.

“Ready for ink?” You asked, giving him as reassuring of a smile as you could muster.

He exhaled, turning his wrist to inspect the design. “Ready.”

The rest of the appointment flew by, with Remus sitting like a stone while you tattooed him for close to four hours. You didn’t speak much, letting the music fill the empty air, but it was a comfortable silence, broken by the occasional question or annecdote. Remus seemed to appreciate being able to relax, and you were happy to give him a safe place for little while. Holding space for what this moment meant to him.

When you were finished, Remus stared at the tattoo in the mirror for a long time, and when he turned back for you to wrap it up, you could see tears collecting on his lower lashes.

"Thank you for this," he said, clearing his throat. "You were--this was amazing."

You knew he meant the art, but still, the praise made your heart glow all the same. "Of course, Remus. I'm glad I got to be the one to do this for you."

Before leaving, he placed another appointment on your books for the following week, this time asking for a tree along the back of his calf, the roots spreading across the scaring he had there.

After Remus’ second and third appointment, you noticed a change in him. He seemed more confident, a little more outspoken. He was coming to life before your eyes, and you were starting to see the fuller picture of the boy Sirius loved so much.

Already, you felt so close to him. Connected. And you were starting to miss him those days in between, his appointment becoming the highlight of your week. Your sketchbook was filling with sketches of him, like you mind needed a place to spill your overflowing thoughts of him. With him, it was like every sound was heightened, every movement sharper, the very colors in the room more vibrant. Overwhelming in the best way.

But then he cancelled your fourth appointment, citing illness, and you didn’t see him for two weeks. It wasn’t until he sent and owl requesting an appointment for this coming Friday that you finally felt like you could breathe.

Sorry again for cancelling. Are you free this Friday? Thinking a moon and stars on my chest, with those gorgeous clouds I saw in your sketchbook. Can’t wait, RL.

When Remus walked into your studio, you had to stop yourself from hugging him, you were so excited to see him. He looked tired, a little dimmer than the last time you saw him, but he greeted you with a warm smile and a bag of pastries, and that was all you needed.

You had him sit up on the table, busying yourself with the station in avoidance of the inevitable. He was going to have to take his shirt off. Your heart was palpitating just thinking about it.

“Alright, Rem. Strip for me,” you said, ripping the metaphorical bandaid off.

He huffed a laugh, seeming a bit shy himself. “Yes ma’am.” In a fluid motion, he hooked his fingers under his sweater and tugged it overhead. His chest was tanned and lined with lean muscle, the kind built outdoors, not in the gym. The scaring was worse, deeper gauges in softer flesh, but you barely registered it, too busy staring at the half-healed red slash across his ribs.

You gasped. “Rem, what happened?”

“Would you believe me if I said I was in a fight club?” He rubbed the back of his head, averting his eyes from yours.

“No, but you don’t have to tell me anything. Just that you’re alright,” you said, unable to mask the warble of concern in your voice. You were already starting to gather that Remus was…different. And you'd only met one other person with scars that matched his, and they also always cancelled around the full moon.

His eyes softened. “I’m alright, dove. Don’t worry about me.”

“I’m the only one that gets to gauge you with weapons,” you huffed, grabbing up your sketching marker.

He barked a laugh, head tipping back on his shoulders. “Fair enough. Only you get to wound me permanently from now on.”

“Glad we reached an understanding.” You propped the sketchbook on the table and leaned in to start sketching. Remus sat up as straight as he could, resulting in your head hovering around his clavicle. But, with his long legs, you couldn’t get close enough.

Remus seemed to pick up on your dilemma and slowly spread his knees, allowing you to step between them. The heat of his body was intense, drawing you closer, but you swallowed your impulse, trying to focus instead on the moon and constellations you were mapping out.

As you drew, you started to shift closer, drawn in by the work and his proximity, the clean smell of his skin, until you were practically leaning against him.

“You smell nice,” he hummed, close enough that you felt his breath tickle the hair around your ear.

You nearly dropped the marker, but managed to keep your grip steady. “So do you,” you said, unable to come up with something clever.

“Y’know, I probably shouldn’t say this, but I—I missed you the last two weeks.” Remus’ voice was low, just above a whisper, resonant like a drum in his chest. You wanted to wrap it around you like a blanket.

You looked up at him, lips slightly parted in shock, so close you could brush your nose against his if you moved a hair closer. “You did?” You asked, certain that if pupils could turn into lovehearts, yours would be beaming out of your head like a cartoon.

His hand came up to caress you jaw, tentative and gentle. “Being with you is the best I’ve felt in ages,” he said, tilting your face a little closer to his. “I don’t—”

The bell to your studio rang loudly, and you jumped back from Remus’ hold, nearly tripping over your stool.

“Hey Moony! There’s my favorite artist!” James came plowing through, wrapping you up in a bearhug that squeezed the air from your lungs. “How are you, sweetness?”

“I’m good, Jamie,” you wheezed, and he set you back on your feet.

The boys clasped hands, a quick, almost automatic handshake.

“What are you doing here, Prongs?” Remus asked, trying and failing at not looking irritated.

“Sirius said you were getting some ink today so I figured I’d swing by and have you take a peak at how mine’s healing.”

“James, it’s been like six months. Your antlers healed fine,” you reminded him.

“You did his antlers?” Remus asked, a flicker of something dark passing through his eyes.

You nodded. “Yeah, you didn’t know?”

He shook his head, glancing sidelong at his friend.

“I suppose it might be time for a touch up. Let me see,” you sighed, crossing your arms over your chest.

James lifted his shirt, revealing a peak of his washboard abs, framed by a pair of sprawling antlers across his hip bones. You leaned a bit closer, checking for any faded spots or ink spreading.

“Looks perfect, Jamie. All good,” you said, sitting back on your stool, mildly impressed with yourself.

“Brilliant. I love them, and they’re very effective.” He waggled his eyebrows, and you and Remus rolled your eyes.

James hung out for another hour, chatting with Remus while you finished the sketch of the tattoo. Your bodies were just as close as before, but with James, you were forced to keep it strictly professional. But the proximity without being allowed to touch was melting your mind, making heat pool in your lower belly. You could feel every breath Remus took, feel the rumble of his voice in your chest, the warmth of his body mingling with yours.

It was maddening, and you could tell Remus was growing more impatient by the second, the muscles around his neck taught with tension, his fingers twitching against his thighs.

At one point, you laughed at one of James’ jokes and swatted at his chest, earning a smile from him. When you glanced back at Remus, his jaw was clenched tight, eyes glaring a hole into the drink in his hands.

Was he…jealous?

He had no right to be, but still, the thought of him being possessive made your heart rate quicken.

Finally, James left, leaving you and Remus alone in the simmering tension you'd built. He watched you closely as you returned to your station, prepping the tattoo machine.

“Would you ever get a tattoo like that?” You asked, glancing up at him through your lashes.

He leaned back on the seat, bracing his hands behind him. Showing off the lean expanse of his torso, the rugged look of him that stood in sharp juxtaposition to his style and personality. “Not sure I could pull it off.”

You scoffed, allowing him to see you peruse his body. “I strongly disagree.”

He chewed on his lower lip, a nervous habit. A flush started to spread across his chest, reaching towards his cheeks. “What would you suggest?” he asked, a sultry edge of his voice.

Unhurried, you stepped back between his legs, letting your fingertips graze along the valleys of his lower abdomen. “Perhaps a snake.” You traced the shape along his skin, his muscles tensing to stop himself from shivering. “Or ferns. Maybe a wolfs jaw—”

“A wolfs jaw?” He asked, quirking an eyebrow at you.

You met his eyes. “You should give me a little more credit, Moony.”

He blinked at you, clearly taken aback that you knew his secret. “You knew.”

“I do now. I've only seen scars like yours once before, on another werewolf. And with the nickname, your tattoo choices, being MIA on the full moon…it adds up.”

His eyes searched your face. “And you don't care?”

“Of course not. I care about you, not your affliction.” Your hands still lingered on his hips, like your skin was magnetized together, you couldn't seem to pull them apart.

Remus straightened, his hand coming up to cup your face again. “I haven't been able to stop thinking about you,” he breathed. “You’ve gotten under my skin, dove.”

“It's risky, y’know, to flirt with your tattoo artist,” you murmured, grazing your fingers over the mostly healed goldenrod tattoo. “You've got a permanent reminder of me.”

He smirked, his hand sliding into the hair at the nape of your neck. “Well, the thing about werewolves…” he was so close, warm breath fanning across your lips. “We're a possessive sort, territorial. So having your mark on my skin…” he sighed, eyes dark with desire. “I'm finding it hard to hold myself back.”

“Then don't,” you replied, heart in your throat.

Remus surged forward, lips colliding in a heady, toe-curling kiss. You immediately gave into him, his tongue caressing the seam of your mouth, dipping past your lips to taste you, claim you.

Your arms found their way around his neck, fingers digging into his feathery hair and tugging at the roots, drawing a low groan from his chest. He nipped at your lower lip in warning before soothing it with his tongue.

“Be gentle with me,” he grated, kissing along your cheek, down towards your throat. He craned your head back, grazing his teeth along your pulse, and you shivered. “I’m trying to savor this, not devour you.”

“Do you always keep yourself on such a tight leash?” You asked, breathless as he lapped at your skin, your thighs trembling with desire.

“Patience, dove,” he chastised affectionately, lifting his head. “Just be good for me, yeah? You’ll get what you want.”

Your brain emptied. Seeing this dominant side of Remus had you folding like origami. You nodded, letting him drag you in for another languid, bone-melting kiss.

Remus slid off the table without breaking the kiss, leaning down to scoop you up by the thighs in a fluid motion.

“Rem!” You gasped in surprise when he turned and dropped you onto the table he just vacated.

He leaned over you, one hand reaching down to recline the seat so you were laying back, legs on either side of his hips. His lips found your neck again, kissing and licking his way down while his hands pushed up the hem of your shirt, fingertips cool against your fevered skin.

“Tell me if you want me stop,” he said, shifting to kiss around your navel.

“Don't stop. Please don't stop,” you pleaded, and he smiled against your hip before sucking the skin between his teeth, biting at your flesh just hard enough you make you keen.

“I won't, love. I'm not going anywhere.” His fingers hooked into the waistband of your jeans, easing them down over your hips until they fell to the ground in a pile.

Your knees tried to pull together on instinct, the vulnerability making you flush, but his hands gripped your inner thighs, spreading you apart for him. You could tell he was in his element, something having loosened from his usually reserved demeanor. It felt like you were seeing him completely for the first time. No holds barred.

“Don't hide from me, pretty girl,” he cooed, lowering to his knees. “You're gorgeous.” He trailed kisses up your thigh, charting a tingling path until his nose grazed sodden panties, making your pussy flutter and clench. “Fuck, you smell divine,” he muttered before dragging his tongue over the thin fabric.

“Oh, god—Remus,” you moaned when he sucked on the fabric over your clit, pleasure blooming from your center. Your eyes rolled back, fingers tangling in his hair as he flicked your swelling bud with his tongue.

“So responsive,” he praised, pulling your panties aside with his middle finger. “You this sweet for all of your clients?”

You shook your head. ”I've never—fuck, baby.” Your words splintered into a cry as he eased his middle finger inside of you, your dripping entrance accepting him eagerly. He nudged your clit with his nose, making you cry out again.

“Just me?” His voice almost sounded like a purr, deeply pleased by your admission.

You nodded, urging him closer by the roots of his hair, and he practically growled.

He nipped at your thigh, overpowering your meager attempt easily. “Patience, remember?”

You whined. “Remus, please. Just wanna feel you.”

He withdrew his finger, then added a second, pumping you slowly. “I know, baby. I'm right here, I've got you.” His mouth found your clit again, his tongue circling around and around, and you arched off the table, moans spilling from your lips like a song.

Steadily, the fire built, with Remus' devoted attention pouring over you like gasoline. He moaned against you, eyes screwed shut when your pussy clenched around his fingers, teetering on the edge.

The table shifted, rocking back a bit, and you looked past Remus' hair tangled in your fingers to his body. He was rocking his hips against the edge of the table, so turned on by the act of eating you out that he needed some relief.

“Rem, baby,” you whined, the sight dragging you that much closer to release. He glanced up at you, his eyes glazed and pussydrunk, and he whimpered against you.

His deliberate motions got sloppier, greedier, as he rutted against the table. Losing control of himself, like his entire being was desperate to be inside of you.

With a final curl of his fingers, you toppled over the edge, coming with a cry loud enough to rattle the windows as relief crashed over you, cool water dousing the flames beneath your skin.

“Good fucking girl,” he growled, withdrawing his fingers to lap directly from you, savoring every drop of his efforts. “That's it, love. Relax f’me.” He brought you back to earth with his tongue, long, languid licks and kisses around your trembling center, across your inner thigh slung over his shoulder.

“Fuck, Remus,” you panted, slumping back against the table. “That was—”

He made his way up your body, catching your words in a messy, top-lip kiss. “Got your mark all over me now, dove,” he purred, pecking your cheek with a cheeky grin.

“What about…” you trailed off, fingers toying with his belt, unsure of what you were asking for him to fuck you, or mark you. Or both. All you knew was that you wanted him, badly, even more so with that post-orgasm clarity.

“Patience,” he replied, chuckling at the annoyed look you shot him. “Ready to finish up this tattoo?”

“But you didn't get to—”

“I’m, ah, a bit embarrassed to say that I did.” He straightened with a sheepish smile, revealing the dark spot leaking through his jeans.

Holy shit. You'd made him cum in his pants.

You surged up, throwing your arms around his neck and tugging him down in to a ravenous kiss. “Merlin, you're so fucking hot,” you mumbled against his mouth.

He grinned, breaking the kiss to nuzzle into your neck, hiding the flush you could see staining his ears. “Says the girl that made me cum without touching me,” he muttered, almost indignant.

“I’m not sorry,” you chuckled, sighing when he pressed his plush, kiss-swollen lips to your racing pulse.

“It's alright, I'll get even,” he teased, his teeth nipping at your skin.

“Is that a promise?”

“Most normal people would interpret it as a threat.” He picked his head up, eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Well, I'm not normal people,” you replied.

“And thank Godric for that.” He kissed you again, all smiles and airy pecks.

Normal was never your style anyway.

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kngrose · 3 months ago

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hiii can u pls make yandere jinx reacting to somebody trying 2 ask out the reader

(feel free 2 ignore!!💗💗)

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐉𝐈𝐍𝐗

when someone asks out her partner

WARNINGS: implied mental illness, violence, implied murder, coercion, manipulation. be safe, heed warnings!

from roselí. ᡣ𐭩 : i tried to make this as realistic and in character as i possibly could. i rlly wish people would study characters more often </3

It’s not like you were going to say yes, Jinx just never lets you get the chance to handle these situations on your own. She’s so impulsive; a loose canon just ready to shoot at the smallest spark.

Bless the poor thing, pretty little painter you usually catch making murals on buildings and alleys— you could tell they’d spent a lot of time working up the courage to ask. There’s a telling flush on their cheeks that spreads to their ears, their shuffling nervously on their feet— they can’t seem to keep their lip from under their teeth. They’re actually cute.

But you weren’t going to say yes.

Jinx had been leaning lazily against a crumbling wall when it all took place, her bright pink eyes tracking you and the stranger near a rusty vending machine. She twirled her zap-gun idly, the manic energy simmering just beneath the surface of her carefree façade.

Her ears pricked at the stranger’s words.

“So, uh, I was wondering if you’d like to grab a drink sometime? Just you and me.”

Her heart skipped. Then it dropped. The world tilted, her vision blurring for a moment before splitting into two: one part cold fury, one part trembling vulnerability. A clawing void of rejection surged in her chest.

They want to take her from you.

Her hands stopped their idle twirl, gripping her weapon tightly. She was all jagged edges now, sauntering toward the scene with a growing, unhinged smile plastered across her face.

“Well, well, well! What do we have here? Little paint shop loser thinks they can steal my baby, huh?” she cooed dryly. The stranger held their hands up defensively, stammering, “N-no, I didn’t know she was—”

“LIAR!” Jinx’s voice cracked, her finger twitching on the trigger of the zapper. She wavered between hysterical rage and a crushing sense of inadequacy, her bipolar emotions splitting her perception into black and white. You are hers—all hers—and this person was a threat. The idea of losing you gripped her like a vice, her mind screaming.

She’ll leave you. She’ll leave because you’re not enough.

“You thought you could just waltz right up, and take her— right? She cackled dryly, “WRONG!” You could see the whirlwind of thought manifesting on her face— snarls turning into grins turning into scowls. You stepped forward, raising a hand to try and calm her. “Jinx, it’s not—”

“Quiet, cupcake,” she snapped, her voice suddenly sharp. But the moment she looked at you, her tone softened into something sickeningly sweet. “I’ll take care of this, okay? You just stand there looking all cute and perfect for me.”

The poor thing tried to back away, mumbling apologies, but Jinx was already there, her speed unnervingly quick. She was inches from their face now, her gun’s barrel resting lightly against their chest. “You know,” she whispered, her voice dangerously low and leveled, “I don’t like sharing. In fact, I hate it.” She trailed the gun upwards, letting it rise under their chin. “Of all the canvases you chose mine…” She meets their gaze with a stone cold glare, “Wanna paint the walls with your insides? Hmm?”

“Jinx!” You blurt frantically— she’s taking this way too far. “it’s fine! You don’t have to do this— I wasn’t even going to say yes—”

"No, it's NOT fine!" Jinx snapped, her voice cracking as she turned toward her you, her expression twisting in anguish. Her manic energy flipped into desperation in an instant. "Why would you even talk to someone like them?! Am I not enough? You're not— you're not gonna leave me, right? RIGHT?!" Her breathing grew ragged, and tears pricked the corners of her eyes. The admirer took a nervous step back, clearly reconsidering every life decision that had led to this moment.

“No— you’re enough. I’m not going anywhere,” you assured her softly, taking small measured steps towards her. Jinx’s wild gaze flickered to you, the raw emotion on her face breaking through the chaos. Tears welled in her eyes, but the anger didn’t leave, not fully. Her breathing was ragged as her your steady voice seemingly pulled her back from the brink.

Abruptly, she embraced you, making you flinch. She buried her face into you shoulder, her voice muffled, “I don’t want to lose you,” she whispered, raw and vulnerable. You took the opportunity to motion to the painter still standing still in fear. ‘Leave’, you mouthed frantically, still trying to pacify Jinx by rubbing her back softly.

“You won’t, Jinx. I love you.”

Jinx's head whipped rapidly up toward you, leveling your eyes. Her expression was… darkening. She was splitting again, now so suddenly, her emotions cycling too fast for anyone to keep up. “You mean that?” She asked, raising a sharp brow. She traced your face meticulously.

“What? Of course I mean that.” You stare at her bewilderingly, eyebrows furrowing. You could only watch as she processed something internally, but you could never guess what goes on in her sick mind. “Good.” She smiled, a sweet smile. She grabbed your hand gently, placing her gun into your palm, “Shoot them.”

“W-what—! Jinx— you can’t be serious?” Your mind swirled, you were so taken aback by her statement you physically reeled your head, the gun slipping in your palm. Her hand moved to your shoulder, fingers digging into your skin with possessive force, her grip tightening as she leaned in, her lips brushing your neck. "Didn't you hear them? They want you, not me. I'm the one who's supposed to be with you," she hissed, a manic fury flickering in her wide, unblinking eyes.

The sound of your heart hammering in your chest was deafening. You wanted to argue, to protest, to deny this madness, but the words caught in your throat. The way she looked at you— possessive, desperate, almost like a starving animal ready to pounce-made it clear there was no room for dissent.

"You have to choose," Jinx cooed, a twisted smile playing at the edges of her lips. She gestured toward the figure standing helplessly in the distance, "Either you choose me... or you choose them." Her voice dropped lower, darker, her breath coming in ragged bursts. "But if you choose them... you know what will happen. Don't you?"

You tried to pull away, but her grip on you was ironclad. Her fingers tightened, forcing your arm to aim at the person who'd dared to look at you with affection. Jinx's hand hovered over yours, guiding the gun slowly, insistently, until the barrel was trained on their chest.

"You're going to make them sorry, right? You're going to show them who you really belong to." The gun felt like a lead weight, too heavy for your trembling hands. But Jinx's eyes were on you, her gaze cold and calculating, burning with obsession. She moved closer, her body almost pressed against yours now, her voice dropping into a low, seductive whisper. "Don't make me do it for you. I want to see you do it. I want you to prove your loyalty. You don't want to disappoint me, do you?"

"They're waiting for you. Waiting for you to make your choice. Show them how much you care about me, darling. Show them who's the real threat here."

You could feel her breath against your ear as she leaned in, her voice almost sweet now, laced with madness. "It's simple, really. One pull of the trigger— POW! And it's all over. You and me. Forever. No one else. Ever." She snarled noticing your hesitation, ever the big heart you had.

"You know I won't let them have you," she whispered, her voice laced with a mix of fear and obsession. “Jinx—” You murmur painfully, biting back scared tears, but she hushes you instantly. "You're mine, and I won't share you."

Her smile returned, but there was no joy in it. Only the chilling certainty of someone who had already made up their mind. "Do it. Or I will," she dared, her eyes narrowing as her grip on you tightened. The world narrowed down to that single moment— the gun in your hand, the silent figure before you, and Jinx, her eyes gleaming with a terrifying expectation. There was no escape, no way out.

Only the grim reality of her twisted love, a love that demanded everything-and if you didn't comply, it would take everything away. Her voice was the last thing you heard before you were forced to make the decision.

"Choose. Me or them."

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darlingdekarios · 1 year ago

Text

the best thing.

rating: explicit. 18+ only. length: 5,608 content: Gale Dekarios x f!tav [f!reader], porn with plot, established relationship (engaged), post-Baldur's Gate III canon, fluff, domestic bliss, smut [fingering - receiving, oral - receiving, unprotected p in v, creampie], kink(s) [overstimulation, orgasm control, hands, hair pulling, body worship]

after everything the two of you have been through, you're eager to give Gale one perfect, blissful day.

It was almost unbelievable seeing you bathed in the golden hues of the morning standing in his kitchen, back to him as you fussed over whatever it was you currently had sizzling on the stove. It was so rare that he was able to sneak upon you these days - you were so attuned to one another that simply entering the same room was enough of a greeting.

But now you were focused, far too much so to notice your lover's entrance, or even to notice him for several more moments as he leaned against the doorframe, peacefully enjoying the serenity that being near to you caused. Even this was enough to fill his heart with love.

"If there should ever come a day when your presence does not fill this tower again it will surely be a day without sunrise."

You turned to him and offered a smile that rivaled the sun itself in beauty and warmth, every bit as life sustaining to him. You were wearing an apron he often donned in the kitchen, the fabric graffitied with streaks of color and puffs of powder. He was struck as he so often was with you, offering nothing more than a smile in return that reached his eyes as he remained transfixed by you - the very center of his universe and far beyond anything his goddess had ever shown him in beauty.

"There are painters who envy me of this privilege. To wake to such beauty in my own home every day…I truly am a fortunate man."

You would never tire of the way Gale's words spread through you like warmest fire, making you feel worthy of a love such as this every moment no matter how your mind was trying to force you to feel that day. To say in the time that had passed since your adventures in bliss would be an understatement - both of you had found what could only be described as heaven in life with one another.

Everything about one another had become home, the deep love the two of you shared the kind that people prayed to the gods for.

"You wake up everyday and set out to make me love you more than the last.""

"I could say the very same to you, my love," his voice was particularly cheerful this morning and you were glad you'd decided today for your plan. It was already off to a great start, and it could truly only get better from here with what you had up your sleeve. "What has you in the kitchen at this hour? We didn't exactly get to sleep early, by any standard."

When you've gone through the things you've been through, sometimes it can feel wrong when someone looks at you with the amount of love and adoration Gale was now…the way he did so often these days. Whether you were resting in his bed, reading at his side, curled with Tara on the couch, or doing any other thing to fill the time, he looked at you now like it was what he hoped to do last in the world.

And he always would.

"I made you breakfast. Or at least…I did my best at…making you breakfast."

The smile that spread across his face was more stunning than any of the scenery in all of your adventures, not a single star or moon matching its beauty. As you were lost in your profound love for him he took the lull in conversation to close the distance to you, wrapping his arms around you and reuniting you into his warm embrace - it hadn't been long, but it was always an eternity.

He pressed several kisses to your forehead as he gazed over your shoulder, analyzing the plates you'd made for the two of you to enjoy. His brows pulled together in an expression you recognized as being deep in thought - you pressed a kiss to the lines as he spoke again.

"I know this meal…"

Your lips lifted into a smile against his skin and he reached upward to encourage you to meet his gaze again, awaiting your response and hoping it was a confirmation of what he suspected. "It was the first breakfast you made for the party. I remember how proud you were and how delicious it was…no one had ever cooked for me like that."

"Your memory is just as astounding as the rest of you," he was positively grinning at you, eyes expressive and proudly displaying every bit of love he felt for you. His head tilted to the side briefly - something you were quite fond of - as his brow furrowed again, the arm that remained around your waist pulling you closer. "It's not my birthday, is it?"

Forget loving him more by the day - you loved Gale Dekarios more by the second.

"No, dearest," you replied, reaching one of your hands upward to rest against his chest. You held his gaze as you spoke knowing he preferred when you didn't look away. "I just realized…in all the time since I've met you there have been many meals that you've made me, and I've never made you a single one."

His expression softened even more, something you didn't know was possible, pressing a gentle and loving kiss to her lips. The first kiss of the new day was always a shared favorite between the two of you - no matter how many days passed the first always created goosebumps and pulled quiet sighs of pleasure from your chests.

"You are truly are a gentle soul," he muttered against your lips, the hand that still cradled the back of your head sliding to cup your cheek instead, his thumb brushing across your cheekbone tenderly. "I'm still not always entirely sure I deserve it."

"But you do," you promised, eager to hush the self doubt that still lingered in your fiancé day-to-day. It was something you were happy to live with - it never annoyed you or grew tiresome, you were more than willing to remind him how loved he was despite any mistakes he'd made in the past, that any he'd make in the future were already forgiven. "You deserve it, Gale. We've been through so much together and I was thinking…I want you to have a perfect day. I want to do anything and everything you want to do for an entire day."

"Starting with breakfast?"

You sheepishly smiled and nodded before confirming, "I know it won't be as good as when you made it, but…"

"It will be perfect," he silenced your own worries gracefully and gently before they could even begin to fester. "As most things made in love are. Would you join me on the balcony for our meal?"

It was incredible how something as mundane as sharing a meal together could become an act of utmost intimacy. With Gale even the smallest moments felt like a life's worth of promise and love - if every day was like this you would leave this life with nothing but happiness in your heart. The day passed with him like a dream, like you'd truly found the person you were meant to spend this much time with. The person you were meant to face the passing years together - who you were excited to watch more grey bloom in his hair.

After breakfast both of you had fallen asleep on the balcony in a gentle embrace, his arms holding you against his chest as you slept. When you woke, Tara was asleep on your back and so you'd continue to lay together until the tressym removed herself to carry on with her day. All the while Gale had gazed at you lovingly, stroking your hair and face when you had continued to sleep a few moments longer. He'd never tire of the serenity that filled your face in truly peaceful slumber.

For lunch Gale opted to eat by a nearby lake, the beautiful afternoon the perfect landscape for him to take a moment to indulge in a bit of poetry…about you, of course. It made you bashful when he did so - it always had and likely always would, a demure laugh passing through your lips as you tried to hide behind your hands as he poetically described the many things he loved about you.

Of course, the heat in your cheeks only increased when his poetry turned to that of describing the ways he wanted to demonstrate his love - but you were certain you were burning when he'd followed it with a kiss not entirely decent for a relatively public setting. Nevertheless, he certainly didn't seem to mind.

It continued with a trip to the bookstore, the apothecary, and to another local merchant where he bought some supplies for home and a necklace for you that yes he insisted you have, even though you now had a collection forming in the tower. Before you could finish your day in town he asked to pop down to the local inn for a quick drink.

You were well aware that this was truly just time for Gale to show off his future wife to the other patrons - something that always made you feel fantastic about yourself. The fact that the famed Wizard of Waterdeep felt pride in having you at his side was no small compliment - it was a fact you flourished in.

Back home, the two of you cooked dinner together, Gale eager to give you tips on how you could improve in the future. When it was time to eat you shared a bottle of wine that you'd selected together earlier and ate in silence, reading your new books with zero complaints even capable of being formed in your mind.

Your eyes only left the words on the pages to glance across the table to him lovingly - something you were joyous to find he mirrored frequently. It was after dinner had been cleaned up and the two of you had tidied up from the day that you found yourself in his embrace, yet again on the balcony where so much of your shared time was spent.

For a while he simply remained with his head resting atop yours, holding you gently as you shared another sunset. It was only once the sun had completely gone for the night over the horizon that he turned you in his arms slowly, eyes finding yours like it was their nature to do so, wasting no time in leaning down to kiss you again tenderly.

"Have you enjoyed your day, my heart?"

He smiled the kind of smile that pulled lines beside his eyes, eyes that were twinkling and rivaling the stars that had started to decorate the sky for the night. You could feel how content and relaxed he was in the delicate hold he maintained on you, the love pouring from him and seeming to wrap you in a tighter embrace. It was these moments where the weave truly connected the two of you, holding you together and proving that you were meant to be together in this world - and the next, if that happened to be what came.

"I have enjoyed every day by your side, even the difficult ones," his voice was so earnest there was simply no possibility of disbelief from you - you could hear the honesty soaking his words, every sentence another promise and declaration of his love for you. "But today has been perfection. I could thank you for a lifetime and it wouldn't be enough."

The kiss he gave you then was the kind that is written about in books - in fairytales, the kind that inspires poetry and signifies the truest of love. He continued to hold you against him gently as your lips entered a dance you both yearned for constantly - at this point you were no strangers to what each of you liked and it was reflected with every swipe of your tongues and movement of your lips.

And it was always until you were both breathless - never a second before. The two of you had experienced so many things together that had made so many of your early tenderness rushed - neither of you were ever in any particular rush anymore. This kiss was exactly like so many these days - savored. And yet this was only the beginning of what the two of you would savor in the night to come.

"Would you like to retire to our bedroom for the night?"

You words were light as you whispered against his lips, biting at the bottom one lightly when you finished your question. A truly pleased grin spread across his face as you pulled away, his arms still anchoring you to him - if you wanted him to he'd release you, of course, but it was never a moment too soon.

"Darling, you need only ask."

Thankfully, the bedroom was mere steps away and it was easy to tug him inside with hands gently pulling at the collar of his shirt, your lips not leaving one another for long. Though it was obvious where Gale's mind was heading - a it was difficult to deny it for much longer as it had been growing since the kiss at the lake earlier - you still had one more thing planned for him.

One of his hands slid lower to cup your ass and bring you closer, tongue seeking entry into your mouth again as he waved a hand to ensure there was some light by way of many candles. You shook your head to which he huffed, pulling away just far enough to pass you an inquisitive look.

"Not quite yet, my love," you cooed, pressing a consolation kiss to his lips briefly before pulling away fully, wrestling yourself free from his grasp with a giggle. "Remove your shirt and lie down on your stomach."

Though he muttered under his breath about it he followed your instructions, brown eyes searching your face for a response as you only sat on the bet waiting for him, always one to enjoy the sight of him undressing. When he was finally in the position you asked him to be you straddled his lower back, hands slowly rubbing the expanse of his shoulders with the perfect pressure to pull a groan from him.

And that was the end of his silent questioning - every swipe of your hand, knead from your fingers and caress was met with a moan, groan, or whine from him - as time continued on he was mumbling into his pillow about how much he loved you…repeatedly. When you reached a particular point you could practically feel tension melt away from him and you leaned downward to press a kiss to the back of his neck before encouraging him to roll with a squeeze of your legs.

And oh, was he happy to oblige - to be reunited with your face, now with the moon's glow coming through the curtains to illuminate you alongside the flickering candles. A considerable amount of time had passed since you began massaging him and still you showed no signs of stopping, continuing to straddle his waist as your efforts now focused on his chest.

"Your hands are divine," he was barely coherent through the pleasure he already felt, his words far less calculated than they're normally be. "I could lay here for a ten day and happily starve."

"I suppose you're feeling well about your day then, my love?"

It was an unnecessary question - you both knew it. But he was also just as aware that you loved to hear about the feelings your efforts had earned, and it had been a long time since he'd denied you of anything you wanted that he could provide. With his most charming smile he nodded, leaning forward to rub the tip of his nose against yours gently in an innocent show of affection.

You reached upward to run your fingers through his hair delicately, pulling a blissful sigh from his lips again. If it were possible to create a symphony from what filled your bedroom you would gladly hear its melody forever…a sentiment he'd expressed toward you once that you held at the core of your memory and found your mind circling back to often.

So much of his mind was an exact reflection of your that sometimes it seemed they were still connected sometimes.

"Absolutely blessed," when Gale spoke it was as though you were the one who could answer his prayers, something you found irresistibly sweet about him. "If you're not careful you will spoil me beyond reason."

You leaned down to capture his lips in a gentle kiss again, his hands grasping your hips again, sliding to rub over the soft expanse of your thighs. Too selfish to release his lips again you whispered into the kiss, your own hands resting on his chest still, his heartbeat steady and soothing.

"I fail to see why that would be so bad."

He could only smile into it as he continued to kiss you slowly, one of his hands sliding up to hold the back of your head delicately. He began to raise until he was sitting upright, keeping you anchored where you straddled him with his resolute hold on your hip still, ensuring your lips never parted from his for longer than a breath.

Before his arms engulfed your waist his hands made quick work of removing the robe that covered your frame, discarding it to the floor with little care. His hands caressed over your torso like he truly cherished every inch of you and sought to ensure not a single patch of you went unattended to.

(He truly loved every inch of you - a fact you believed deep into your core. You'd only asked him once what his favorite part of your body was - he'd almost been offended that you'd think he could narrow a list of such considerable length.)

"Still, it may be good for me to exercise some selflessness tonight," he offered, a handsome and playful expression illuminating his features. His hands were now gently resting on either side of your neck, thumbs lightly rubbing back and forth - unable to stay fully idle for long. "You gave me the perfect day. Will you let me treat you to a perfect night in our bed?"

"Have you known me to say no to you often?"

"Only when I've needed to hear it."

No further talk was needed and the two of you continued to kiss tenderly, his hands returning to lavish your breasts again. Your own hands maintained a hold on the back of his head, fingers grasping his hair delicately - completely unwilling to have him pull away. Happy to oblige and always eager to swallow the quiet sounds of pleasure he could pull from you, especially now in the privacy of a bedroom where it had not always been a luxury you'd been provided, one of his hands continued to trail lower.

Until it reached as low as he could on your leg in this position, fingers brushing over the soft skin of your inner thigh - it was obvious he was influencing the weave to crackle at his fingertips gently, the result a pleasant tingle dancing across your skin. Your legs squeezed tighter around him in anticipation and he chastised you with a light swat to your thigh, not to cause pain but to capture your focus again.

You responded with a light nip to his bottom lip which earned a cheeky smile from him, eyes staying on yours as his hand finally reached your core - where you were desperate for him most. Over your panties it was still obvious how wet you were in anticipation of him - your time with Gale had proven that things like that only spurred him onward more, the confirmation that you wanted him just as desperately clouding his mind of all logic.

"Have you been wet all day, my love?"

The tone of his voice melted you like wax, you could only nod and whimper as he pushed the fabric to the side, slowly running two of his skilled digits between your soaked folds. His lips were only centimeters from yours so every movement brought them together slightly, your moan cut off as he kissed you again, index finger circling your clit slowly. He opted to speak against your lips, unwilling to be too far from your sweet lips for long.

"I'd have indulged you long before now had I known this is what waited for me."

His fingers swiped back down to your entrance and the middle slipped into you slowly, a smile playing on his lips as he kissed you again. Though one finger meant every exit and reentry meant pinpointed strokes the stretch wasn't enough to satiate the pressure that was seated in your core, more of a stretch needed than what one finger provided. It only took a slight squirm of your hips for him to take the cue, slipping a second finger into you which you thanked him for with a moan.

He left your lips to kiss to your neck, reclaiming spots that had often been decorated with his mark in your time since returning home with him. His fingers set a leisurely pace pumping into you, stroking your velvet walls perfectly as his tongue lavished a spot on your neck that you knew would only add to the slick coating his hand.

His free hand came to one of your breasts to massage gently, fingers rolling your sensitive nipple and pinching to add to the melody sounding from your mouth. From where you were seated in his lap you could feel his cock hard and throbbing beneath you, adding to your desperation - as skilled as Gale's hands, fingers and mouth were it would never compare to joining together with him.

You rocked down against his waist which pulled a groan from him, fingers picking up pace as he nipped at your neck. "Patient, darling…"

His hand left your chest to grasp your hip instead, steadying the movements you both knew would drive him over an edge he was intent to tiptoe around still for a while yet. When you continued to try to squirm in his hold he removed from you completely, brow furrowed as he used a hand to push you onto your back. He kissed down your torso slowly, eyes staying fixated on yours as he went - communicating his instruction to stay still without a word.

"Gale please, I need you…"

You tried to tempt him into giving into your way for once by reaching upward and slipping your fingers into his hair, giving the messy locks a tug to try to encourage him upward. It was briefly annoying that you felt his lips curve against your hip - amused by your attempt, no doubt -

*(Later when your mind is clearer you'll reflect on this moment - as you so often reflected after intimacy with Gale - and you'd once again be thankful for his insistence on ensuring he went above and beyond for you in all senses.

It was impossible to forget that you'd become the most important thing to him.)

"You know I won't give you what you want until you've cum at least once for me, darling," he reminded, his voice feather light against your inner thigh now where he sucked a fresh mark into your thigh to match what the fading ones had once appeared as. Your fingers ran through his hair and tugged again, he only groaned deeply in response and lightly bit at the spot he'd just marked.

"Gale -"

He did love when you whined for him - it almost always nearly enough to make him break on the spot, the temptation to give into you near overwhelming.

"Ah ah ah," he whispered, the vibrations in his voice tickling your skin as his lips brushed a familiar trail up your thigh to your core. "No arguing, my love. I'm not asking anything unreasonable."

All that was left to do was melt as his tongue ran through your folds, an appreciative moan rumbling in his chest as he tasted you - as though it was the first time all over again. The argument was completely lost as he continued to cover every inch of your cunt with his tongue. He was exactly what he'd told you to be - patient - as his tongue ran back and forth between your oversensitive and swollen clit and your hole that was eager to clench around anything.

This was certainly one of his favorite ways to spend his time now - sometimes to busy his mind with anything other than tortured thoughts of the past he'd lose himself in devouring you. The fact that you always gushed on his tongue was a bonus, one he was more than happy to work for, sometimes refusing to remove his head until you'd finished multiple times.

Even he wasn't patient enough for that tonight, but he was enough to continue lavishing you with his skilled tongue, hands gripping your hips and angling you upward so he was able to fuck his tongue into you and lean back occasionally to gaze lovingly at your pretty, creamy cunt. With the amount of love and devotion he was putting into every movement, it wasn't long until your thighs were squeezing closer around his head, the subtle shake at his fingertips giving your impending release away before you managed to moan out the warning.

"I'm…I…"

"There you go," he leaned away to look up into your face, his lips and chin covered in your slick and his spit. One of his hands abandoned its hold on your hip to join his mouth, two fingers entering you again in a swift movement, the sound that accompanied the movement enough to build heat in your cheeks. "That's a good girl."

With his fingers now pumping into your hole again it left his mouth to focus on your clit, his tongue relentlessly swirling on the bundle of nerves as he pushed you toward release. Your vision was already whitening and your fingers gripped his hair tighter, a cry ripping from your chest as his other hand pressed down on your stomach.

That sensation snapped like a rubber band through you - while you were lost in ecstasy you hardly registered that your release was gushing from you, though Gale wasted no time in covering as much of your cunt with his mouth so he could drink your euphoric nectar.

As you were coming down he crawled back up you, pressing kisses along your torso as he whispered a word or sentence of praise with each one. You were pinned beneath him, one of his forearms resting next to your head as a leg moved to slide one of yours higher - though you were in a post-orgasm haze you registered you needed to wrap your leg around his waist.

His hand came to smooth your hair back, leaning down to press a delicate kiss to your nose - a tender action that didn't match the lewd way he rolled his hips into yours, his cock throbbing and leaking from what you could feel against your pussy. His other hand maintained a tight grip on your hip and he pressed a gentle kiss to your lips now, whispering quietly against them.

"Are you ready for me, my love?"

The truth was, he could never enter you fast enough - or at least he wouldn't, his playful nature shining through one last time before he lost himself completely in intimacy. It showed now in the subtle shake to his voice, the slightly higher pitch that gave away how much he needed you.

"Please."

"I do so enjoy when you ask nicely."

He started sliding his cock into you slowly groaning the entire way, opting not to continue to kiss you so he could gaze into your face with complete adoration, finding just as much bliss in seeing your eyes roll back and flutter closed as a light smile played on your lips as he did in feeling your velvet walls around him again.

And this - this was as perfect as anything else that had ever truthfully been described as such. This is where both of you found some reason, some meaning - where both of you created your own galaxies. It started slow, Gale preferring to savor the first strokes inch by inch every time. His lips never left you, kissing you gently in any place he could reach on your face and neck and shoulders as he muttered quiet words of love and appreciation.

Poetry that would only be shared between the two of you.

When he was satisfied with the amount he'd cherished every inch of your walls welcoming him in again he re-angled your bodies so both of your legs were around his waist now, the new angle allowing him to fuck into you deeper. Now he was hitting a spot he knew would make you see stars, hoping that you'd thank him for remembering exactly how to reach it -

"Gale…feels s'good…"

He sounded his appreciation with a loud moan of his own, his pace increasing as the tension built in his core now. You felt impossibly tighter each time he re-entered, a fact that was driving him closer to release. Unable to voice it he pressed a sloppy, desperate kiss to your lips before leaning his sweaty forehead against yours, breaths falling out heavy against your lips.

No matter how close his release threatened to snap, he would never do so without hearing you tell him to do so. You allowed him a moment to dangle over the edge for a moment as you bit into your bottom lip, catching his attention and focus - focus on your swollen lips, and the sweaty sheen covering your face and slicking your hair…on the way your eyes threatened to spill tears at how blissfully good you felt.

"Come for me, Gale," the instruction already had him grasping you tighter, but when you continued with an offer that hadn't previously been on the table it was impossible for him to hold back much longer. "Fill me…"

He kissed you again - a little too hard for how swollen your lips already were from the amount of kissing already done but with a passion that was returned nonetheless. His thrusts became just as messy as his kisses had and he pumped his throbbing length into you hard and fast, hips pistoning into yours repeatedly.

Both of your sounds filled the room as his movements pushed you toward a second release of your own, walls clenching around him so tight he now couldn't bring himself to remove from you completely. Recognizing both of you needed a breath as his own head began to spin he buried into you to the hilt roughly one last time as his orgasm started, toppling you over into your own at the feeling of his thick seed coating your insides.

You were thankful he wasn't a particularly massive man when he practically collapsed against you, breaths coming out heavy against your neck as his mind found a new addiction in filling your womb. Normally he'd withdraw to get a soft and warm cloth to clean you but tonight it hardly seemed necessary - even if you fell asleep now it wouldn't be long before he was sheathing himself in you again.

He would care for you in other ways tonight, pulling away from you slowly and pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead as he positioned you both into something much more comfortable, facing one another on your sides so you could continue to enjoy the serenity illuminating one another's faces.

Between your bodies one of his hands met yours, your fingers lightly tracing lines on the back of his hand. He continued to enjoy the true peace of the moment before speaking again.

"Today was beyond words," he whispered lightly when he found his voice again. You could hear the love that each word was spoken with - what's more you could see it reflected in his eyes. "You give me everything I could have ever dreamed of and more."

You moved closer to curl up to him, burying your face in his neck as he waved a hand to ignite the fireplace, keeping one arm around you to hold you close as one of your legs slipped up over his waist. After he pulled the blanket over your bodies he turned his head to press a kiss to your forehead, finding your eyes were already closed and yet you still had a small smile on your lips. As he gazed at you for just a moment longer Tara jumped onto the foot of the bed, giving a long stretch before settling in for the night, her purrs mixing with the crackle of the fire.

Just when he thought you'd already fallen asleep you surprised him with another question.

"Let's do it again tomorrow?"

He kissed your forehead with a light smile on his lips as his arms tightened around you, happy to give this and more to you for as many days as you'd allow.

"And the day after that."

masterlist. baldur's gate III masterlist.

#gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios x reader #gale dekarios smut #baldur's gate 3 smut #baldur's gate 3 fanfiction #gale dekarios fanfiction

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kakitetan · 7 months ago

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Sebastian Solace x GN! Reader | Daily Life AU | Sleeping

Ever since you were released, you were forced to take Sebastian in, you have no idea if Urbanshade even knew, since it was upon Sebastian's request. Or more like demand…

You were watching TV in the living room, you lived alone with Sebastian now. The house wasn't normally this quiet, the silence occasionally interrupted by Sebastian banging into something with his large body. You paused the show you were watching and got up. The silence was eating at you, and he was nowhere to be found.

You walk over to his room, knocking.

"Sebastian? It's me, I'm coming in." You spoke, walking into the room.

His TV was on, with Painters' face flickering on the screen.

"Oh, hey Painter. Have you seen Sebastian?" You asked, your next question was going to be why Painter was even here. Advanced AI is scary…

"Does it look like I've seen him Y/N? He's your responsibility!" He remarked, before turning the TV off in a huff.

You blinked and looked around the room. You made your way to the window, looking around for Sebastian. It was odd, a grown-ass man was your responsibility. Besides, he knew better than to go outside without your permission. You leaned against the window, at times… The mission still bothered you. It's how you and Sebastian met, and even now while living together, he tries his hardest to avoid talking about his past and being human. But you can tell it bothered him too.

From the way he'd look at you when you asked about his document, to the way he tried to hide his voice crack when he ate soup for the first time in god who knows how long.

You knew it still bothered him, no matter how much he yelled at you for simple things, or when he made snarky remarks to hide behind that bitchy exterior.

Yet oddly enough, you were grateful. Without that experience, you wouldn't have met him, so it's not for nothing. You blinked, snapping out of your thoughts. You scanned the outside, Sebastian wasn't anywhere to be seen. You turned away from his window, walking out the door. You walked down the hallway, the bathroom door was open. He wasn't in there either. The last room was your room…

You were hesitant, you drew near the door. The potent smell of fish hit your senses.

"Sebastian, it smells in… Here.." Your voice trailed off, seeing the man curled up on your bed.

Thoughts flooded your mind, on one hand, it was charming. On the other hand, your room was going to smell…

You silently took out your phone, snapping a picture of the cute sight in silence. You were in the middle of putting your phone back into your pocket when you heard the bed creak. You snapped your head to the source of the noise when your bed snapped and collapsed onto the floor. His weight was too much!

He woke up immediately, snapping up. He looked at you and glared. "What are YOU looking at?!"

You knew he knew that Sebastian had broken the bed. His cheeks were flushed in a dark blue hue. You blinked, before smiling.

"Nothing, go back to sleep. Sorry for interrupting you." You spoke, before leaving the room.

Authors Notes! Hi! This is my first fanfic I've ever written, I intended on it being longer, since I just enjoy long fanfics as a reader, but it was sortaaa hard to make this one long. My writing may come off as odd, I don't intend for that to be a bad thing. I allow criticism too, since I want to improve. I hope this is still a good read! This was just an idea I had in my head for a while, I plan on making it a series, if anyone even wants that. Anyways, enjoy this mess, ahahaha!

#sebastian solace #sebastian solace x reader #sebastian x reader #roblox #pressure #roblox pressure #roblox x reader #x reader #reader insert #sebastian #i dont know what other tags to put here sorry

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uncannydevotion · 2 months ago

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a/n: i've been thinking abt this request a lot lately so i've decided to finally write it. only took me two million years <3

includes: ticci toby, the bloody painter, x-virus, and homicidal liu.

warnings: not proofread i am writing this all in one sitting let's hope it's good, attempted murder against the reader in toby's part, angst! :jazz hands:, injuries, blood, panic attack in toby's part?? kinda?? you could call it that or you could say slender was doin some weird shit to his head, mentions of murder, mentions of past bullying, stalking, helen's kinda obsessed, unhealthy relationships, dead parents, needles, whatever the fuck cody injects into people, very morally ambiguous reader in cody's part, brief but slightly descriptive murder, randy is a warning i guess, mentions of fire, mentions of near death experiences, cigarettes, a gun, sully points a gun at reader but there's no real attempt of murder, a test to see how much i remember jeff's story cause i am Not rereading it it's 3am as im writing this.

TICCI TOBY

You really don't know what had compelled you to go into the forest so late at night. No... no, that's a lie. You do know. You knew exactly what had brought you to this forest.

Maybe you were crazy but you could've sworn you had seen your childhood friend at the edge of the forest near the cemetery the other night. It's so stupid, you knew that.

He's been missing for years now, classified as on the run after brutally killing his father, but you just... you had to know.

That's why you had entered the forest that night. No one else would be around, but... you really should've thought ahead, honestly. You should've brought a pocket knife, or some mace, or anything.

But how were you supposed to know that you would end up getting chased through the woods by a fucking crazy guy with hatchets? You don't even know where he came from, he just threw one of the hatchets at you and narrowly missed!

Consider yourself lucky, or whatever, but he seemed fairly determined to kill you.

You hid behind a thick tree, taking a moment to catch your breath. You're not sure how deep in the forest you had gone, but the area was starting to look familiar, so you assumed that you were getting close to the cemetery connected to the town.

But he was catching up to you, and fast. It's not like you could just fight him off, he had the advantage with, y'know, the hatchets.

Quick thinking is what leads to you grabbing a fairly sturdy branch from the ground. It was heavy, but you didn't have the luxury of caring about that right now as you pressed your back against the tree, forcing yourself to steady your breathing.

The sound of tongue clicking was familiar, and it grew closer and closer. You could hear leaves and twigs being stepped on. Cautiously, you took a glance around the tree. The man's back was turned towards you, but he was looking around.

Looking for you.

You knew this was the one chance you had, so you tried to be extra quiet as you approached him, raising the branch up high and using all your strength to knock him over the head with it.

The man falls to his knees, and as soon as he dropped his hatchets, you dropped the branch and snatched the weapons away, throwing them somewhere deeper in the forest just so he wouldn't be able to use them to hurt you.

Now, you knew you should've ran. He was no longer a threat, but... the tics, the way he didn't react to the pain of getting hit over the head like you thought he would've... he seemed dizzy, sure, but he was bleeding. He wasn't clutching his head, he wasn't hissing in pain.

It was all familiar, and it reminded you of...

"Toby?" You sounded breathless, chest heaving as you stared down at him.

His head shot up at the sound of his name, and behind his cracked goggles, you can see the way his eyes widened. Even though most of his face was concealed, you could see the...

Fear? Confusion? You're not sure what emotion it was, but it was so evident in the way he recoils from you when you reach out to him.

"Toby... what-" You couldn't even get another word out before he was interrupting you.

"No! No. No. I don't kn–click–know you." His voice cracked as he spoke, and he sounded pained. Not from the injury you had given him, but... as if there were something else.

You really don't know what's happening, all you knew was that the man you had considered to be your best friend when you were younger had just tried killing you, and is acting as if he doesn't know you.

No... not acting. His confusion, the lack of recognition, it was all real.

You couldn't get another word in before he was breaking down, clutching his head as if something was screaming inside it, "I don't know you! I don't know you!"

The pure agony in his voice had you stumbling back. Clearly, your presence wasn't helping him. Guilt clawed at your insides, and even though you didn't want to leave him like this, even though you wanted to figure out what had happened all those years ago, you knew you had no choice.

You stumbled out of the forest, the sound of Toby screaming echoing around you.

And though it was faint, you swore you heard static as well.

THE BLOODY PAINTER

Being friends with Helen had been hard, even before he killed almost the entirety of his class. He rarely ever spoke to you, and half of the time you wondered if he even thought of you as his friend.

You stood up for him against people like Judy and Ban, but there was only so much you could do.

There was one memory that you always thought of, even after you had grown up. It was the night before the school's Halloween party, and you had dropped by Helen's house to get his help on picking out a costume.

He had seemed... really distracted, that night. He wasn't fully there. When you asked him if he was okay, he just...

"Promise me that you'll stay my friend, no matter what happens."

It had caught you off guard, but you had made the promise. The next night, he killed his classmates before your parents dropped you off at the school. You didn't see him after that, because your parents refused to let you associate with him.

And now, years later, something was wrong.

You had heard from Helen's mother, months ago, that he had been released from the institution he had been in, apparently no longer a danger to himself or others, but he just...

Disappeared. Cut all contact.

And shortly after his release, you heard from an old friend that Judy and Maggie, two of the few classmates that had survived the massacre, had gone missing, along with the other three survivors.

Something deep down in your gut told you that it was Helen. When the bodies of the missing had been found inside of Helen's childhood home, you just knew.

You should've gone to the police, really, but it's not like they didn't already know. There was a manhunt out for Helen the moment the bodies were found, but he was long gone.

It's not like you had to be worried or anything, right? You were in a completely different state, living in a large city. You haven't spoken to him since you were kids, and it's not like he knew where you were at, right?

Well, you were wrong, apparently.

When the stalking started, you didn't want to believe it was Helen. I mean, seriously, why would he want anything to do with you? Unless...

You didn't want to think about it, but... he had gone back and killed all the survivors of his original massacre. And... you were technically a survivor, if only because you were late to the party. He didn't plan on killing you, did he?

Though, that fear was quickly squashed when he started leaving you gifts. They were nothing major, mostly sketches of you. They weren't signed, but you knew who they were from.

The feeling of eyes on you was something you just couldn't get used to, and you swear you started seeing him when you were out in the city.

You wanted to go to a bookstore? Helen was across the street. Taking a walk in the park? You swear you saw him sitting on a bench, sketching.

It felt as if you were going insane, honestly.

You... you really should have gone to the police, you think, when you got home one night to find your roommate hanging from the ceiling, their neck slit and their blood painted all over the walls.

In your roommates blood, on your wall, a heart was painted, followed by a question mark. Was this... a love confession? Was he asking if you loved him?

When you took a step back, towards the front door, you had bumped right into him. He was on you in an instant, and his hand covered your mouth to prevent your scream from being heard by anyone.

"Shh... I'm not going to hurt you. We made a promise, remember?"

X-VIRUS

Living at an orphanage had never been easy. You still remember the day you first arrived. Your parents had both died, and you had pretty much closed yourself away from everyone, refusing to interact with any of the other kids.

The caretakers had been concerned, especially when the other kids had started picking on you for being quiet and 'weird'.

In comes Cody, a kid your age with absolutely no filter and no regard for what was considered right or wrong. To this day, you still don't know what it was about you that made him hang around, but the moment he got to the orphanage, he was by your side almost all the time.

Whenever one of the other kids messed with you, they'd always end up getting injured in some way because of Cody.

Cody was the only person you were willing to speak to, other than the caretakers. He brought you out of your shell, and made you laugh with his stupid, poor-timed jokes. You even became his nurse, essentially, patching up his wounds whenever he got into fights over you.

The day he was adopted was the worst day of your life, you think. It's the first time you cried since your parents died, and you remember clinging onto him, begging him not to leave you.

It was a pretty embarrassing memory, to be honest.

You weren't as lucky as Cody had been. No family was interested in adopting you, and you ended up aging out of the orphanage. Life never got better for you, even after you left the orphanage.

You didn't have many friends, and your coworkers all tended to avoid you because of how apathetic you were. Truth be told, you didn't have any interest in anything.

Every single day, from the moment Cody had been taken from you, was literal hell in your mind. The loneliness, the constant doubts, the self-loathing, everything. It was so much. Almost too much, at times.

But that all changed when you were walking back to your dingy apartment one night after a late shift. You lived in a fairly unsafe area, but the rent was cheap, so you couldn't complain.

Walking by an alleyway, something caught your attention.

It was cliché, honestly. You didn't care if anyone might have been in trouble, but a morbid curiosity got the better of you when you heard someone crying for help.

Taking a stroll down the alleyway, you reached the end and saw something you truly weren't expecting. A man was laying on the ground, a headwound visible while another man stood over him, fiddling with a needle and some sort of liquid you didn't recognize.

"Would you shut up? There's nobody around to hear you,"

That... that voice...

Your eyes widened, but not because you just witnessed some poor guy get injected with a suspicious liquid.

The injured man starts gasping, and foaming at the mouth. Your eyes meet, and he reaches out to you, croaking for help. You just stand there, watching as the man died.

And when you look up, you meet the gaze of the man who killed him. But you weren't scared. You should be, you knew that, but you weren't.

Cody pulls down the mask he was wearing. He doesn't seem at all surprised to see you, almost as if he knew you had been watching.

"Miss me?" He asks. He was smiling, as if he hadn't just killed someone. So many questions were swirling in your mind, but the only thing you could really focus on was the fact that Cody was here, in front of you.

For the first time in years, you smile.

"Yeah."

HOMICIDAL LIU

When a new family moved in next door with two boys close to your age, your parents had practically forced you to go over and introduce yourself to them, trying to get you to make friends.

You weren't at all interested, but you also didn't want to get in trouble, so once they had settled in, you went with them to be neighborly.

Liu and Jeff were the names of the kids. Liu was the older one, only a few months younger than you, and as mean as it was, you were definitely more interested in hanging out with Liu more than his little brother.

It's not that you hated him or anything like that, but... you were a kid, y'know? The thought of hanging out with someone younger than you, even if only by three years, was weird. It's something you felt guilty about now, as an adult, but it's not like you could change the past.

Besides, you and Liu weren't even friends. Not when you two had first met, at least.

You walked to school with him, and you had a few classes together at school, but you already had your own group of friends, and you just weren't interested in making any new ones.

It wasn't until his brother started to get bullied that you two started to develop a bond. You were one of the few people who didn't tolerate Randy's bullshit, so you never hesitated to stand up for Jeff when you were around.

Liu liked that about you.

When he had gotten arrested after falsely confessing to beating up Randy and his goons, you did your best to protect Jeff while he was gone.

To this day, you can't help but blame yourself for everything that happened. The day Jeff had been lit on fire, you had been stuck at home because of the flu. You still remember the scream of pure agony you heard from his mother next door when she got the call.

There were many things you wish you had done differently back then, but alas. Time marched forward.

As far as you knew, Liu died that night Jeff brutally killed his entire family, and you made sure to visit his grave whenever you had time to spare.

Today was one of those days. The sky was filled with clouds, and you had bought some flowers.

Everyone in town viewed the Woods family in a negative light because of the terror Jeff had caused, and still continues to cause to this day, so their graves don't get taken care of.

You do the best you can, but it's hard to prevent neighborhood kids from vandalizing the grave every other week.

But you were pleasantly surprised to find someone sitting behind Liu's tombstone, smoking a cigarette. You had thought that maybe it was an estranged family member, maybe, but as you approached, you couldn't help but notice that the scarf around their neck was eerily similar to the one Liu had gotten a few weeks before his death.

"Uhm, hello?" You call out, curious as to who this visitor could possibly be.

You did not expect for a gun to be pointed at you.

You blink, staring at the gun for a moment, too bewildered to register the fact that you should probably be scared. Hell, you didn't even have much of a chance to register the gun before you found yourself more distracted by the person holding it.

He looked... eerily familiar.

The scarf. The scars littered across his face, on his neck. They reminded you of the reports you read about the wounds Liu had sustained before dying in the hospital.

It was stupid. There's no way it's actually him. No way. He didn't even seem to recognize you. He had a fucking gun pointing at you, for crying out loud!

This was not Liu.

So why did he feel like him?

"...Liu?"

Your voice caused his gaze to change. The gun lowered slightly, his brows pinching together. And in a split second, it's as if he was a different person entirely, the way his eyes widened in recognition.

His gaze dropped to the gun that he had been pointing at you, and he looked absolutely mortified, dropping it and the cigarette he had been smoking.

"I can explain." He says, but he honestly seemed just as lost as you were.

...It was going to be a long night.

#requests from the old blog.#creepypasta x reader #ticci toby x reader #the bloody painter x reader #x virus x reader #homicidal liu x reader

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durtblog · 17 days ago

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verinarin · 1 year ago

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Drunken mind, sober thoughts

fluff | slightly suggestive | Rafayel’s low tolerance towards alcohol has left you in a little bit of a problem, his drunken mind spoke his truest thoughts

a/n this is my first time writing for Rafayel to combat my writer’s block ｡ﾟ(ﾟ´Д｀ﾟ)ﾟ｡, but don’t worry Veritas Ratio lovers I would come bearing gift in the near future, NOT PROOFREAD !

The night’s at its prime and so does Rafayel, he lavishes himself in fruitless conversation amongst people with different ulterior motives, his lips curves into a mischievous smile as his lips touched the rim of his liquor filled glass

As a result of his carelessness in indulging alcohol as well as his low tolerance, a hue of crimson painted his face. The colour contrasts beautifully with his pale skin, leaving both men and women mesmerised whilst talking towards him

This however does not bode with you, Thomas knew that Rafayel would mindlessly quench his thirst with alcohol that’s why he specifically made a curfew for Rafayel and well the night must come to an end for the charismatic painter

With a sigh leaving your body you leaned down towards his neck, “Rafayel, you have an important interview tomorrow. You need to go home okay ?,” you whisper softly, not wanting to upset the visibly drunk man

With a huff he swiftly finished his glass, he flash an apologetic smile towards his ‘friends’, he quickly stood up from his seat and bid the crowd farewell, you could feel multiple pair of eyes glaring at you silently cursing you from taking Rafayel away from them

“Miss bodyguard, I’m still bored. How do you plan to fix that hmm ?” Rafayel pouts as he try to steady his steps, you let out a small groan before intertwining your fingers with his, letting his weight slightly rest on your body for support, “You can’t even walk straight,”

“Ah that’s true !, but once we’re at the hotel room we could still play something don’t you think ?” he looks down towards you with that trademarked smiles of his

“You need to sleep Rafayel,” you huff as you tap the room’s key onto the censor, you carefully lead Rafayel towards the bed, but with him being stubborn you could only manage to seat him on the couch

“Rafayel you’re flushed red right now, it would be better to sleep now to minimise your hangover in the morning,” you kneel before the man, the soft yellow glow of the moon illuminates his skin, his lips curves into a pout as he defies your order

“Can’t sleep, don’t want to,” he huffs as he fold his arms and look away, you can’t help but to chuckle seeing the man before you acting like a child, “Alright let’s make a deal then,”

“I’m listening,” he turns his head back towards you, your hand reach forward to gently caress his cheek, the skin burns warmly against your nerves, “I would give you a reward you can redeem now, whatever it is you want I’ll give it to you in exchange of you sleeping afterwards,”

“Deal, I want you to sleep beside me, hold me close and keep me safe during the night,” he replies without much thought, it’s like he already has this request at the back of his mind waiting for a chance to come to fruition

It took you a couple of seconds to weigh in the pros and cons, well his request is pretty effective in keeping tabs on him so you simply nodded and with that somehow the man before you gain a foothold of sobriety for just a second to drag his own body towards the bed, “I’m stuffy in this shirt, can you change my clothes please ?,”

In a normal day you would probably hit his head for requesting that but in light of his current predicament and the fact that you’re too tired to argue you simply rummage through his baggage and bring back a pyjama set for him to wear

“Here you go, now I want to change too so I expect you to finish changing once I’m done,” you set the clothes beside him before taking your own fresh clothes and change into a more comfortable clothes, once you exit the bathroom you could only see Rafayel waiting for you like a loss puppy

“Why aren’t you in your pyjamas yet ?,” you sigh before setting down your dirty clothes and walk towards him, “I can’t reach my leg, can’t wear pants,” hearing that you ascertain that this man is dumber than usual becomes there’s no connection between his leg and dragging his pants down

“Well I guess you’re sleeping in that outfit then,” you shrug as you walk away from him, but he prevented you by grasping your wrist, “Please change my clothes for me, I don’t like feeling sticky,” he whines and of course whatever he wants he’ll get

You steel yourself as you kneel down before him and start to slowly unbutton his shirt, you could see his chest heaving up and down as you carefully undress him, “Y’know I feel like your mom, because this is not in my job description,”

“It would be,” Rafayel replies calmly, shutting down your small chuckles. “What do you mean by that ?,” you ask as you drag the shirt off his shoulders

“Well in the future you’ll be my lover so this would also be a reoccurring task,” he smirks as he took his shirt off and bringing the pyjama shirt on to your hand, your merely laugh at his drunken mind not knowing that it’s his sincerest wish

“Yeah yeah I’m sure it’ll be delightful to have you as a boyfriend,” you tease as you button up his shirt, now this part is tricky, his pants. “Can’t you undress your pants by yourself?,”

“What are you shy ?,” he chuckles as he leans down and hold eye contact towards you, “It’s inappropriate for me y’know,” you roll your eyes, hoping that he would not sense your embarrassment

“Why would it be inappropriate ?, you would see what’s underneath it when the time comes,” he winks and with that you quickly stood up, he whines and apologises. He quickly change his pants by himself why you stare at the wall waiting for him and at the same time trying to calm your breath

And with that you’re now laying on the bed with Rafayel resting his head against your chest, his arms wrapped around your waist like a vice, “So soft and warm,” he mumbles, you can’t help but to find it hard to maintain your composure when there’s a thin line that Rafayel is crossing,

“You didn’t mean what you say, you’ll forget it in the morning,” you huff as you pet his hair, you could feel his displeasure at your sentiment since he nuzzled his face deeper into your chest, not wanting to look at you, “I won’t forget it and even if I do, everything that comes off my mouth is sincere and true,” he mumbles

“Drunken mind is often filled with sober thoughts,”

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #rafayel x reader #homura x reader

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sharp-silver4795 · 4 months ago

Note

can I have bloody painter x reader cuddling/kissing headcanons?

Ofc! He’s fun to write 🤭

Bloody Painter Relationship HCs

I uh- kinda did more than cuddles…. I went full romance on this

Cuddling

He loves to spoon. Wrapping his hands around your waist or midsection makes him feel warm and giddy.

Buddy’s kinda short, so he’s not against being the little spoon!

Lays between your legs on his back with his head on your chest/abdomen when he wants attention.

Rest your chin on his shoulder and he’s in heaven.

Helen can and will sit on your lap for hugs that way. He doesn’t care if it’s atypical for a guy, he’s short and tiny and perfect teddy bear size.

Don’t tease him about it though. Especially if you’re tickling 👀

He’s impossible to tickle

Kisses

I’ve said before that he’s ass in bed, but he’ll kiss you so sweetly.

He loves you so much, he’s never been good a physically showing it.

He will kiss your head while walking by randomly.

If you’re cuddling, don’t be surprised if you get a lil red mark from him kissing you on the same spot too many times.

He’s a man of habit 🤷

He wants to kiss you every chance he can. You lips are so nice against his and he just can’t help but feel like he’s worthy in your eyes.

Every damn time he’s biting his tongue to keep him from saying pinch me. Is this real?

Date Night

He’ll ask you to come to his room, walk you to one of the highest levels of the dungeon castel, motion you to his window, show you the stars from it.

He’d take you up to the roof at dusk to show you the Earth Star (Saturn).

If you ever wanna take the relationship further (💍) he’ll always tell you no since the only rings worthy of you were stolen by Neptune.

Picnics, sleeping in, doing dishes, cleaning the castel, watching a movie and falling asleep a quarter of the way through. Those are his favorite moments.

Creepypasta Love = Insane Love

He’d never paint you. To him, being in one of his paintings is a death sentence. No matter how many times you ask, he’ll never do it.

Instead, he’ll draw others for you. Any issues you have with someone, they’ll be in his paintings.

Yes! He will kill for you. And he will do so shamelessly.

Lil blurb: Cold Nights

Info: 2nd person POV, BP is referred to as Helen & Hel cuz nicknames 🤷

Summary: It’s cold out, the heat is out, and you’re not the only one who’s chilly.

It’s cold out. The heating isn’t working- no shocker there, this place is damn near older than the country it’s in.

You curl into the sheets for warmth, and are met with no comfort. It seems like even the BED is frozen.

Hands on your arms, shivering, you scale the stairs up to the southeast tower where your boyfriend resides. Once you get to the top, you realise that this was likely a mistake. Higher altitude means it’s gonna be colder. That is, until you see that there’s… steam coming from Helen’s room.

You walk in and find that he is fresh out of a warm shower. He looks at you calmly in very warm-looking jammies. You practically waddles to him, feeling like an ice block. When your head hits his shoulder, it clicks in his head.

He walks you to his bed, lays down, and motions for you to cuddle up with him. He runs his fingers through your hair, before they rest at your cheek, to pull your face to his, kissing you softly.

He breaks the tender touch, Your mouth is cold. He laughs at your unamused stare. “Fuck you, Hel.” His laughter only grows. You snuggle up together for the night. You gotta stay warm somehow.

Divider Creds: Sister-Lucifer

I hope you liked this! Sorry if it was too much- I did a bit extra….

Feedback is always appreciated!

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veaspo · 8 months ago

Note

Tim , Jeff , Ben (platonic) , Liu and Bloodypainter has a gf who wears false lashes damn near everyday and one day she doesnt have them and her bf is “oh em gee”

YEAH

CREEPYPASTAS X READER WHO ALWAYS WEARS FALSE EYELASHES

TIM WRIGHT / MASKY

-he thought the false eyelashes were your real ones

-one time you two were cuddling and you were ready to take your makeup off

-you took your eyelashes off while you were cuddling since you didnt need to get up to do that

-tim stared at you and his mouth was agape

-you were surprised he didn't pass out honestly

-he looked at your natural lashes and he honestly fell in love with you all over again

-he started hiding your lashes

JEFF WOODS / JEFF THE KILLER

-one time you two were play fighting

-and one of your eyelashes fell off

-he thought a spider fell off your face or something

-he was honestly so scared and jumped on the nearest surface

-you went with it being a "spider" and picked it up and started chasing him with it

BEN LAWMAN / BEN DROWNED

-you were sitting down, watching your bestfriend play zelda

-the eyelashes were irritating your eyes a bit (idk if they do that, im sorry😭) so you decided to take them off

-ben didn't notice so you had an idea

-you wanted to make him look like one of those cars that have the paper like eyelashes on the headlights

^^like this^^

-you had pinched the eyelashes together to make them look skinnyish

-to not scare him much you decided to put then under his eyebrow instead of his lid

-ben jumped and grabbed them to see what they were. when he noticed what they were he just looked at you in shock and went back to playing zelda

LIU WOODS / HOMICIDAL LIU

-liu was watching the process of you taking off your makeup

-he's never seen you put it on or take it off and he was curious to how it worked

-the first thing you did was take off your eyelashes, you could see his reaction in the mirror

-he thought you took your actual eyelashes off

-literally, he looked pale and he instantly grabbed your face to look at your eyes

-when he seen you had eyelashes still, the color slowly returned to his face

HELEN OTIS / BLOODY PAINTER

-he was painting you, he loved painting you

-the falsies kept getting in your eyes and it was uncomfortable

-"i'm sorry" you said as you quickly took your eyelashes off and then went back to your pose

-helen was speechless, he stared at you with wide eyes and his paintbrush was just hovering near the canvas

-he chuckled then raised his eyebrows and went back to painting

-he never really questioned it till after he finished, "why did you never tell me that you were eyelashes" he asked

- "i thought it was obvious" you said as you were smiling

--------

7 MORE REQUESTS LEFT TILL IM CAUGHT UP🙏🏼🙏🏼

#fanfic #veaspo #fanfiction #x reader #creepypasta x reader #creepypasta #tim wright #masky x reader #masky marble hornets #jeff the killer x reader #jeff the killer #ben drowned x reader #ben drowned #homicidal liu x reader #homicidal liu #bloody painter x reader #bloody painter

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pretzel-box · 6 months ago

Text

STREAMER AU MASTERLIST HERE

PART 5: PAINT YOUR DOUBTS

Tags: Fluff, Drama, Angst, Stolen Identity, did I mention drama already? Also Painter!

Words: 3k

Authors Note: It’s almost Thursday and I couldn't wait. If it's weirdly written or you see mistakes: This was edited on my phone and I am suffering. Please bear with me.

Allison could see the lovestruck gleam in Sebastian’s eyes, and she knew she had won. Leaning closer, she gently rested her forehead against his, her lips curling into a sweet smile as her fingers intertwined with his. “I love you,” she whispered softly, her voice dripping with sincerity. “I always have.”

Sebastian drank in her words, soaking up the affection he so desperately craved. Those three simple words were enough to seal his fate. He pressed his lips to hers once more, the kiss soft but full of unspoken promises—promises to never leave her side, to always be there. In his arms, he finally had his Jelly, and he knew he would never let go.

As Sebastian held her close, his heart pounding as if it had been waiting for this moment all along. In his arms, he believed he finally had everything he ever wanted. Allison—Jelly—was his, and there was nothing that could break this moment.

Their kiss deepened, Sebastian’s grip on her tightened, not out of force, but from a sense of security, like he was holding on to the one thing that could keep him grounded. He pulled back slightly, resting his forehead against hers once again, his breath heavy but steady.

"I never thought I'd have you like this," Sebastian murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "I waited so long... I was scared I’d lose you before I ever had the chance."

Allison smiled, a hint of triumph hidden behind her gentle gaze. “You’ll never lose me, Sebastian,” she reassured him, her fingers tracing lazy circles on the back of his hand. “I’m right here. And I’m not going anywhere.”

Inside, she felt a surge of victory—Sebastian was completely hers now. She had taken Jelly’s place, and he was none the wiser. Allison savored the way he looked at her with devotion, not realizing the depth of her manipulation. She had him right where she wanted him.

But as the two stood there, locked in the warmth of what felt like love to him and power to her, a tiny flicker of guilt brushed against Allison’s mind. She quickly pushed it away. This was for her, for her happiness. Being close to Solace, even if it meant betraying her friend, was worth it.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” Sebastian continued, his eyes soft as he gazed at her. "It feels right—finally."

Allison leaned in, pressing another kiss to his lips, silencing him for the moment. She didn’t need to hear his words of devotion; she had already won the game.

And as they stood together, the world outside of this moment seemed distant. For now, Sebastian’s world revolved around Allison—his supposed Jelly—and she would make sure it stayed that way.

“How about I pick you up for lunch tomorrow? We can finally test out the new sushi bar you wanted to try so badly.” He whispers against her lips, hoping she would agree to his planned lunch date. He remembered every single thing about her, the way you excitedly rambled about sushi once. Sebastian had mentioned it to Allison again and of course she had to play along, telling him about a sushi bar that opened near their place.

The truth? Allison hated sushi. The smell, the texture, the taste—it all repulsed her. If she wanted the taste of raw fish, she'd rather go lick the ocean. But she couldn’t let that show, not now. Not when Sebastian was falling deeper into her trap. If she had to eat sushi to keep him hooked, she’d swallow every last bite with a smile.

She nodded, giggling like a schoolgirl. “Of course, I’d love to. Just the two of us,” she said sweetly, masking her distaste behind a charming facade.

Sebastian’s face lit up, his heart swelling at her response. “Just us,” he echoed, his voice full of affection. He kissed her forehead softly, pulling her closer in a warm embrace. “I can’t wait. I’ve been thinking about it for a while now.”

Allison smiled sweetly, but internally, she was already dreading tomorrow. The thought of raw fish made her stomach turn, but she couldn’t show any hint of discomfort. She had to play her part perfectly. If sushi was what it took to keep Sebastian wrapped around her finger, then she would endure it.

“Neither can I,” she said, her voice dripping with false excitement. She leaned into his chest, hiding the small grimace that flashed across her face for a brief moment. Allison could handle this. After all, she had gotten this far.

Sebastian stroked her hair, feeling content in her presence. To him, everything was falling into place. He had his Jelly, the one person he had been dreaming of for so long. Nothing could go wrong now.

As the night wore on and they eventually parted ways, Allison’s mind raced. She needed to make sure her disguise as Jelly was airtight. No slip-ups. She couldn’t afford to reveal her true identity now, not when Sebastian was already so smitten. She would suffer through sushi if that’s what it took. She had worked too hard to let it fall apart over something as trivial as food.

Tomorrow, she would smile and pretend to enjoy every bite. Tomorrow, she will play her role perfectly, just as she had from the start.

The next day arrived with the soft rumble of Sebastian's motorcycle pulling up in front of Allison's place. She stood at the entrance, wearing a carefully curated outfit that screamed casual, yet put-together. Her heart raced, but not out of excitement—more out of the looming dread of what she would have to do once they reached the sushi bar.

Sebastian flashed her a grin, his helmet already in hand as he handed her a second one. "Ready?" he asked, voice warm and full of affection.

Allison nodded with a smile, sliding on the helmet and hopping onto the back of his bike, wrapping her arms around his waist. The engine revved, and they sped off down the road, the cool breeze whipping past them as they navigated through the city.

The sushi bar was quaint, tucked into a quiet corner of the street. Sebastian parked the bike, helping Allison off before they entered the place together.

They were greeted with a soft glow from the restaurant's paper lanterns, the delicate smell of rice and fish wafting through the air. Allison tried to suppress her gag reflex as they were seated by the window. Sebastian looked relaxed, glancing over the menu with a small smile on his face, oblivious to her discomfort.

"I think I'll try the chef's special. What about you?" he asked, looking over at her expectantly.

Allison forced another smile. "That sounds great. I’ll have the same."

The waiter soon arrived, jotting down their orders and disappearing into the kitchen. Sebastian reached across the table, taking her hand in his. "I’m glad we’re doing this. Feels like it's been a long time coming."

Allison nodded, keeping her facade firmly in place. “Me too.”

But just as things seemed to be going smoothly for her, the door to the restaurant swung open, and her stomach dropped.

It was you.

You walked in, scanning the place casually before your gaze locked onto them. Sebastian noticed too, sitting up straighter, a grin forming on his face. He waved you over.

“Hey! Come join us!” Sebastian called out, his voice breaking through the serene ambiance of the restaurant. "Allison's here too, and you're her friend, right?"

You hesitated for a moment, unsure of what you were walking into. But with no real reason to refuse, you offered a polite smile and walked over to the table. A thousand questions flew through your head as you tried to come up with a reasonable idea why the two of them sat together. “Hey guys,” you greeted them, sitting down as the waiter brought you a menu.

It wasn’t until you sat that the tension became palpable. You looked at Sebastian, then Allison, back and forth, trying to piece together the dynamic between them. The two of them seemed strangely close, almost too close.

Sensing your confusion, Sebastian spoke up. “I meant to tell you… actually, I was going to soon. Allison and I are… we’re dating now.” He said it with pride, glancing at Allison with that same lovestruck expression you recognized all too well.

Your heart sank. A thousand thoughts flooded your mind, each one cutting a little deeper than the last, but you kept your expression neutral, unwilling to let anything show.

“Wow, that’s… that’s great,” you managed to say, forcing a smile that you hoped looked genuine. “I’m really happy for you both.”

Sebastian beamed, clearly oblivious to the sudden shift in your demeanor. Allison, meanwhile, met your gaze with a triumphant smirk barely hidden behind her own facade.

You swallowed hard, your appetite vanishing as the reality settled in. Sebastian had moved on, with Allison of all people. But you had to play along. “So, what’s good here?” you asked lightly, trying to keep the conversation going while your mind raced.

Sebastian eagerly dove into a conversation about the menu and what he planned to order, but you could hardly focus on his words. Your thoughts were too loud, too heavy. You felt like an outsider sitting at the table with them, despite their warm invitation.

Pretending to be happy for them both was the only option you had.

In the span of the next five days, Allison seemed to make your house her permanent residence. She was loud, obnoxious, and clung to Sebastian like bubblegum that just wouldn’t let go. Your motivation to stream was at an all-time low, work had drained you completely, and the heartbreak you were going through felt like the final blow. You’d posted a community update on your streaming account, apologizing for your short absence without getting into much detail. Thankfully, your fans were understanding and flooded the post with messages of support. At least the strangers on the internet still had your back.

It was Thursday evening, and you carried two boxes of Chinese takeout—your favorite. Every third Thursday of the month was Chinese Takeout Thursday, a tradition you and Sebastian had started. Either one of you would bring home food, and the two of you would settle in for an episode of How I Married a Wall Dweller, your favorite TV drama.

You kicked off your shoes and set the takeout on the counter, feeling a brief flicker of hope for a cozy evening. But as you moved through the apartment, a soft, melodic strumming drifted out from Sebastian’s room, followed by Allison’s unmistakable, girly laughter. Your heart sank.

Sebastian was playing guitar for her.

He’d never played guitar for you. He always claimed he wasn’t good enough, that he didn’t want you to hear him make mistakes. Yet here he was, strumming away like he had nothing to hide, serenading Allison while you stood there, boxes of takeout in hand, feeling like you didn’t belong in your own home.

You grabbed one box of takeout and tossed the other in the trash, not even caring. The excitement for your shared tradition had evaporated, leaving a dull ache in its place. With a heavy sigh, you retreated to your room, settling into bed and turning on your favorite TV drama. The room felt unusually cold that night, a chill that settled deep in your bones.

Allison, however, wasn’t resting easy. The more you withdrew from Sebastian, the more threatened she felt. She couldn’t stand the thought of you finding solace in streaming—one thing she couldn't control, especially since she knew how much Sebastian cared about your streaming career.

So she concocted another plan: get Jellycatfished banned.

It wasn’t difficult. You’d been careless enough to use the same password for everything, and Allison had no trouble logging in to your streaming account. It took her mere minutes to get you banned by triggering multiple violations. She knew Sebastian would be concerned and question what had happened, but she was ready with a perfect excuse:

The platform must have made a mistake. They banned you for no reason.

It was flawless. You’d be out of the streaming scene, and she’d make sure Sebastian stayed oblivious. No more streams, no more collaboration invites—just her and Sebastian.

Another win for Allison.

The moment the notification hit your inbox, your heart sank. Your account—Jellycatfished—banned. All the hours, all the work, gone in an instant. It felt like the final straw. You could handle work stress, you could even tolerate Allison’s constant presence, but this? This was your safe space, your escape, and now it is gone.

Without thinking, your first instinct was to message Solace. He deserved to know. You quickly typed a message, your hands trembling as you tried to explain the situation.

"Hey, I just got banned from the platform. I don’t know what happened... but I thought you should know."

What you didn’t realize was that Allison had already gotten to him. She’d mentioned it casually when he asked why you hadn’t been streaming, spinning her story about how the platform must have glitched and banned you for no reason.

Sebastian had seemed concerned, sure, but Allison’s explanation had been so confident, so convincing, that he hadn’t questioned it too much. So when your message came through, his response was quick but flat.

"Yeah, you mentioned that during our date earlier. That sucks, but I’m sure it’ll get sorted out."

You stared at his reply, your heart sinking even further. The words didn't make sense, not at all. Date? What date? The realization crashed over you, an emotional tidal wave that made your head spin. You flung your phone onto your bed, letting out a muffled scream into your pillow, your nails digging deep into the fabric as rage, betrayal, and frustration surged through you. Allison had done it. She had somehow stolen your account, your identity, and now, it seemed, she was trying to steal everything else too.

As the echoes of your scream faded into the stillness of your room, you pulled yourself up and grabbed your phone again. The silence around you was stifling, heavy with the weight of everything you’d just uncovered. You took a breath, your fingers trembling as they hovered over the keyboard.

"Solace, we are not dating."

The reply came quickly.

"What do you mean, we are not? We had so many dates already, Ally. You want me to actually officially ask you out? Let me prepare at least, cutie."

He didn’t get it. He didn’t catch the weight of your words at all.

You hesitated for a moment, then typed, "Solace, I am not Ally. It's me. Your roommate."* You added your name for clarity.

And then... silence. Nothing. No response. No footsteps coming toward your door. Nothing at all.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the hallway, Sebastian was staring at his screen in growing confusion. It’s you and not Allison? How? His thoughts raced, his heart pounding in his chest as he struggled to process. He quickly opened another chat, the one he’d been using with Allison for weeks, his fingers moving frantically across the keyboard.

"Babe, why is my roommate on your Discord?"

Miles away, Allison had just stepped out of the shower, towel wrapped around her as she glanced at her phone. Her face paled, her heart skipping a beat when she saw Sebastian’s message. You sneaky little worm... she thought, fury bubbling inside her. You were trying to expose her, daring to unravel the web she’d so carefully woven. But Allison wasn’t going to let that happen without a fight.

She quickly typed back, her fingers flying over the screen.

"Oh god. Seb, I didn’t want to tell you at first..."

“Your roommate is in love with you…they are actually stalking me now since I became your girlfriend and they are jealous. Seems like they even hacked my discord and pretended that they are me…What if they got my streaming account banned too?”

"I'm so sorry, Ally. I promise I'll get this sorted out. No matter what happens, you're my priority, and I support you."

Sebastian’s words echoed in his head, gnawing at him days later as the whole situation weighed heavily on his nerves. He hadn’t even had the chance to talk to you yet, having blocked your Discord account per Allison's suggestion. She'd convinced him it was safer that way until she could switch out her email and password.

Sitting in Painter’s little tech shop, Sebastian sipped on his cup of instant coffee, his mind swirling. "Man, you look horrible," Painter, his friend and confidant, remarked from across the counter. Painter’s small shop was filled with parts and gadgets, tech stuff scattered everywhere, but today it felt heavier with the weight of Sebastian’s troubles.

“It all makes sense now, Painter. The movie nights, Chinese takeout days, working together...Meeting them in the Sushi Bar even. God, I was so blind." He sighed, running a hand through his dark hair before pulling out his phone and sliding it over to his friend. Painter picked it up, scrolling through the chat history and screenshots Sebastian had saved before blocking you.

As he scrolled, Painter’s brow furrowed. Something wasn’t sitting right. His fingers moved faster across the screen, pulling up messages and logs, all while Sebastian sat there, completely spaced out. Painter and Sebastian had a close bond, and having his friend type on his phone wasn’t unusual. In fact, they often shared stuff like this.

"I'm sorry, man. This really sounds tough," Painter mumbled, his voice distant as he dug deeper into the details. Secretly, Painter unblocked your Discord, his technical expertise kicking into high gear. After a few moments, he managed to pull up something that made him pause: the IP address.

He cross-checked it with the logs and Sebastian's own information. It was the same IP. How could that be? Painter’s mind raced. If this account really belonged to Allison, there was no way it would have the same IP as Sebastian’s unless…

Painter’s heart sank as the realization hit. The only possibility was that the account was yours. You had been telling the truth all along.

#sebastian solace #sebastian solace x reader #sebastian solace x you #roblox pressure #sebastian solace fanfic #pressure #pressure x reader #streamer au #pressure painter #painter

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saturnsorbits · 4 months ago

Text

Bugs and Hisses

Fandom: My Hero Academia, Warnings: Kidnapping, Drugging, Lacking Prep, Con-Non-Con, The Tiniest Amount of Blood, Word Count: 4.9k,

Summary: A Halloween date goes exactly to plan.

A/N: w/a surprise cast.

‘So…’ You run a finger down Sero’s chest, skating from leather jacket, to pressed shirt, to skin. There’s a covering of hair peeking from his collar that tickles as you stroke it, conjuring visions that make you want to know just how far the hair goes. ‘Do I get a second date?’

He chuckles, a deep, throaty noise that vibrates the back of his neck. His palms are already cradling your waist, his thumb skating across the fabric of your dress. With each passing second, his composure frays. Fuck. You’d accidentally flashed him your fucking underwear back in the restaurant and he’d been a perfect gentleman and not looked. Well, he’d not stared at least - just tugged at the edge of your skirts and helped you readjust. He cocks an eyebrow, pulls you in tight. ‘Who said the first one is over?’

‘Isn’t it?’ You bite back a smile, but it doesn’t work.

‘My place is like a twenty minute walk -.’

Pressing your lips to his, you wink and leave him with the tingling of your apple-spiced lipgloss as you step away. ‘Say less. Just let me text my roommate, tell her not to wait up.’

The smile he gives you could light up a room. It’s crooked and too big for his face, but bleeds boyish charm as he rocks back on his feet like he’s just won the lottery. ‘Yeah, yeah. Of course.’

You hold up a finger trying to shake the nervous energy bubbling up inside of you. It’s always like this, no matter how many times you do it. You still get giddy. Slipping your hand into a pocket, you snatch out your phone and tap out a quick message. The usual stuff. And, then, you’re back with him.

His hands are broad and firm, callosed against your palms. He’d told you he was a painter, both commercially and artistically. In fact, some of the canvas’ he’d shown you had been pretty good. Almost as good as the small block of flats he was currently painting ‘Moon Shimmer’ on behalf of an unusually picky client. Slowing his strides so as not to hurry you, he lifts your clasped hands and kisses the curve of your knuckles leaving the stickiness of your lipgloss in his wake. ‘S’not far.’

The streets are dark at this hour, with only the jaundiced light cast down from the lamps making your path visible. Still, you’re not scared. Bumping your shoulder against his, you dissolve into a mess of soft giggles when he knocks you back and smiles. ‘I love this time of year?’

‘Autumn or Halloween?’

You shrug and swing your hands. ‘Both. But, I mean Halloween.’

As you near the estate, the decorations begin to crop up. There’s a string of pumpkins nestled in the leaves of a hedge, their mouths glowing with fairy light. In the front garden of the flats is an inflatable ghoul, in the window of a house across the way a model of the grim reaper covered in cobwebs. It’s pretty, quaint in its own pseudo-scary way.

‘Yeah?’ He cocks his head. ‘Didn’t have you down for someone into spooky stuff?’

You bat your eyes at him and bite your lip. ‘No? What did you have me down for then?’

It happens so fast.

Too fast.

One minute you’re staring up at him with stars in your eyes, flirting with the idea of letting him take you in the street and the next, you’re being held by the throat. Instantly, your hands are at your neck and clawing, desperately trying to free yourself. You kick out and thrash, suddenly aware that your feet are being lifted from the floor leaving you dangling.

‘Stop thrashing, Sweetheart - Or i’ll do a lot worse to your little boyfriend over here.’

The man with his hand around your throat is huge. His chest is barrelled, his arms almost the size of your skull and neither seem strained by the entirety of your weight dangling from his grip. There’s a scar on his face, one that cuts cleanly through his right eye and ends just below his cheek bone. The eye itself has gone cloudy, a white marble nestled in the socket that seems to glow in the low light. Around his threats, his lips seem to shimmer.

You stop, muscles freezing.

‘Fuck. You can have my wallet, my phone… Just, just fucking take it.’ Sero’s back is pressed to the wall. Despite his lean frame and gangling height, the other man towers over him - a head taller and then some. Although, it’s the blade pressed to his sternum that is doing the job of keeping him still. Stuffing his hands into his pocket, he retrieves his valuables and offers them up, shaking as he does.

The man laughs. He tosses his head, letting his hood slip backward; exposing a slither of hair. The root is black, an inch of midnight, but after that, fire-engine red sprouts like firelight. ‘I don’t want your shit.’ Smacking Sero’s hand, he sends the offerings to the floor.

Sero yelps. ‘What do you want?..’ He glances at you, his eyes wide with panic. ‘Just, just don’t hurt us. Okay?’

‘I’m not going to hurt you.’ Turning his head, he lets his eyes roam over your body. He looks predatory, with a set of teeth that would put a shark to shame. He winks. ‘Just play with you a little.’

The grip around your throat is gone in an instant, abandoning you to collapse to the floor in a heap. You suck air into your lungs, greedily inhale until the blurriness fades from your vision. Scrambling back, you bloody your palms on the floor in an effort to escape, to distance yourself from the man in front of you.

If he notices, he certainly doesn’t care. Setting one of his large hands loose in his pocket, he retrieves a thin piece of cloth. The handkerchief is red, soft to the touch and monogrammed - an embroidered gold ‘BR’ sitting neatly in one of its corners. It smells of rubbing alcohol and apples.

‘No. No. Fuck… What the fuck do you want, mate? I’ll do whatever you want.’ There’s a rawness to Sero’s voice now. A broken edge that grates on his throat. Panic swells in his chest. It constricts his lungs and makes his fingers twitchy, his stomach burning on his every vowel as more pleas are kicked up his throat. He glances to you, watches as you scramble backwards and hopes that at least you’ll make it away.

Flashing his teeth, the man lifts the cloth, pressing it over Sero’s mouth. ‘I told you. I just want to play.’

When Sero finally wakes he’s cold. His whole body is curled, his jacket and jeans stripped, leaving large breadths of skin exposed to the bite of the concrete floor. The roof of his mouth is dry, his tongue shriveled, forcing his throat to convulse and spasm. Placing a palm on the floor, he lifts his head.

The room is dark, unlit apart from a singular light bulb that hangs by its wire from the ceiling. Sero squints. The light puddles at the far end of the room, bathing a fully made bed in clear white. It looks out of place, odd in its decadence considering its surroundings, but it’s there nonetheless and atop it, splayed on its sheets is you.

Sero’s up. His limbs are numb and heavy, fighting him with every step as he drags himself across the room, but he does it. Collapsing at your bedside, he claws his way to his knees and almost chokes when he notices the state you’re in.

Thick cuffs wrap your wrists and hold your arms above your head, the chains that connect them securing you to the metal grill of the headboard. Your body is bare, exposed and draped with only the thinnest of shifts to cover your modesty.

‘Oh, no… Hey. Hey. Wake up, c’mon. Wake up.’ He reaches for you, his fingers gracing the curve of your cheek and the plush of your lower lip. Your breath tickles his fingers, makes him sigh with relief.

Groaning, your eyes flicker open. You swallow and try to sit up. ‘Sero?’

The chains keep you down.

‘What the fuck?’ Yanking on your cuffs, you try to rise again.

‘Not getting out of those, Sweetheart.’ A smokey laugh trickles from the far end of the room through glistening lips. Leant back in a chair far too small for his frame is the man. He’s shirtless now, wearing nothing, but a pair of black military pants and matching boots that look as though they’ve seen better days. On his knee rests a gun. His arm is relaxed, fingers parallel to the trigger as the butt digs into the flesh of his leg.

He looks… comfortable.

Sero’s heart stops. He’d awoken at the man’s feet, defenseless, before scampering off to you. He turns his mind away from the thoughts of what could have happened had he not chosen to move. ‘Where are we?’

The hair on the back of your neck stands to attention and salutes your demise, the chill slinking down your back to make a xylophone of your spine. You’re shivering, your lack of dress making self-consciousness and self-preservation war in your chest. A scream freezes to your lungs. ‘What are you going to do with us?’

‘Me?’ The man relaxes further, the slope of his broad shoulders an upturned bracket balanced on his collarbones. ‘I’m not gonna do anything…’ He lifts the gun, gesturing between the two of you. ‘You on the other hand -.’

Sero stands, willing his knees not to shake. ‘I’m not hurting her.’

‘Not even a little?’ The man pouts. ‘What if she likes it? I bet she likes it’

‘What the fuck are you? Some kind of fucking -.’

‘Pervert?’ He spreads his legs, showing off the thick bulge stretching the tension of his zip. It’s massive, the outline evident as his cock sits across his left thigh lazily, leaning into the crease of his pelvis. ‘Something like that.’

A snarl twists Sero’s mouth. He’s been in his fair share of fights, come out of them alright too. He swallows, but there’s no way he’s coming out of this one on top. For fucks sake his waist is the same size as one of this guy’s biceps. His heart hammers in his chest, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides as he runs a million and one outcomes through his mind.

‘Don’t even think about it, baby boy.’ The man chuckles. ‘Think you’re quicker than a bullet?’

A groan ricochettes around the room, echoing off metal walls.

You still. Squinting beyond your pool of light, you let your eyes adjust to the din. There, in the darkness are cages. Human sized cells bracket the room, the thick metal bars hiding whatever lingers inside.

The moan comes again.

‘Oi.’ Kicking at the bars of the nearest cage, the man silences the occupant. ‘Patience. It’s a virtue, y’know.’

Sero steps back. He’s out of his depth. The blood in his veins is cold, his skin frostbitten and pale. In the back of his mind, he writes to his mother - apologizes for not coming home more often, for not teaching his little sister to drive like he promised. He makes his peace, condemns himself to whatever might happen next. ‘What the fuck…’

‘We can do this the easy way, or the hard way.’ The man laughs at his own joke, pecs bouncing as he settles himself again. ‘You were going to fuck her anyway.’

‘Please.’

Sero’s head snaps to you. You sound terrified, broken… Expectant.

‘Just… Just do it.’ The skin around your wrists is raw and bleeding, but still the cuff’s won’t give. There’s no escape. Your stomach turns, bile crawling up your throat as a tsunami of tears threatens to spill over the basin of your eyelid. ‘Please, just - just give him what he wants. I -’ A tear slips your lid, rolling over the curve of your cheek. ‘I just want to go home.’

Puffing up his chest, Sero lays a hand on your arm and soothes you with a swipe of his thumb. There’s a heat under his skin, one that makes something disgusting roll in his stomach. He bites the edge of his tongue. Is he really considering this? ‘And you’ll let us go if we…’

‘Yeah, with not a little hair harmed on your heads.’

‘Okay. Fuck. Right. Okay.’ There’s a shake in Sero’s hands when he finally clambers on the bed. It wobbles the mattress, making his progress tricky as he perches above you. Splayed out underneath him, you look beautiful - a Princess in chains, all ready for the taking. His stomach clenches.

A chuckle. ‘If you need a name to scream, mine’s Riot.’

Sero’s stomach flips.

‘Do you need me to -.’

Your voice distracts him, pulling him back immediately. He inhales, smells apples on your skin and lets his body relax.

You glance between his legs and let your words die on your tongue. You’d been about to offer your mouth, or maybe your tits - something to assist him, but as you watch his cock twitch in the confines of his boxers you realise your service isn’t needed.

He shakes his head, swallowing the saliva pooling in his mouth. A tendril of shame wraps itself around the back of his neck and dives, poisoning his organs as it squirms its way to his guts. There it nestles, promising to rear its head again. He coughs, humming through his hesitance.

‘What?’ Riot laughs, the noise bursting out of his chest as he seems to spread his legs wider. In his hand, the gun jumps. ‘You waiting for lube or something, pretty boy? Because if you need help getting her wet you’re gonna have to get it from the tap.’

Craning your head, you squeak when you see it. There’s a wet patch on the front of the man’s pants, the material darkened where the head of his cock bulges. It’s obscene… And so is your body's response. Your cunt pulses, drooling as you feel arousal drip down the inside of your thigh. It makes something roll in your stomach, something deep and twisted and sickly sweet.

Shaking his head, Sero tries to rattle his brain into shape. His thoughts race, colliding into one another as he attempts to make sense of his imprisonment, but nothing sticks. His chest hollows. ‘I’m gonna… Gonna put it in now, okay?’

You nod and lift your hips, watching as Sero takes himself out of his boxers. He gives himself a long, tight stroke, twisting his wrist as he reaches the head and squeezing a droplet of pearlecent pre-cum from its tip.

His cock is long, peaking an inch past his fist as he glides his hand back towards his base, and slim. A nest of black pubic hair nestles at its base, a series of gently purpled veins snaking from their hiding place to skirt up the underside of his shaft. The head is plump, a brown rose, slick and glistening from his own excitement. He’s pretty, but the thing that draws your eye the most is the trio of bar-bell piercings decorating the underside. Looking at them makes your mouth wet, your tongue an upturned umbrella as you swallow.

A hand stretches across the turn of your thigh, splaying over the joint as his thumb comes up to swipe at your folds. Holding you open, he feels his lungs stutter as he watches your clit twitch. It’s sickening how he feels his stomach clench, how his cock kicks in his hand and leaks through his fingers. He continues to work himself as he explores. His fingers brush over your entrance, almost dipping in, but never quite breaching you.

‘C’mon, Pretty boy…’ From the corner Riot sings, his voice silky smooth until it’s not. Boiling in the back of his throat, his words turn to grit as a growl slips through his lips. ‘We haven’t got all night.’ He bends back his wrist, cocking the gun.

Sero swallows. His Adams Apple bobs in his throat and catches, sticking there as he tries to calm his nerves. He feels frayed, wired as he shifts forwards on his knees and settles down on his haunches. Jutting out his hips, he offers you a smile that is not quite laced with enough guilt before he’s forcing the blunt head of his cock into you.

One minute, you’re empty, your cunt fluttering around nothing, and then, you’re squirming and struggling to take him. The metal of his piercing rubs at your insides, itching at you, digging in and making you want to lift your hips. The lack of prep is immediately apparent. You’re tight, too tight, as he feeds you another inch. Even with his arousal mixing with yours and dripping back down his cock, it hurts. Your skin burns, heart hammering in your chest as you lift your wrists and grip onto the metal chains of your restraints.

Still, there’s no denying it.

‘Fuck.’ Sero feeds you another inch and squeezes shut his eyes. It’s too much. The feel of you, warm and wet, is enough to make him falter. For a moment he forgets. He forgets about the man in the corner - his cock hard in his jeans. He forgets about the gun. He forgets about everything that isn’t you. His hips jerk, stomach muscles twitching excitedly as he struggles to rein himself in. The blood in his veins burns, threatening to set his whole being alight.

‘How’s she feel?’

Sero answers. His throat cracks, his words coming out garbled as pleasure leaks over his tongue and fights for acknowledgement. ‘Feels… Fuck, she feels so good. So, fucking wet.’

‘Wet, huh?’ A chuckle rocks through the room. ‘How else?’

‘She’s…’ Sero moans as he feeds you the last inch of him. Once bottomed out, he relaxes, his rib cage filling once more as he tries to haul in a full breath and fails. ‘Tight.’

‘Yeah? How tight?’

‘So fucking tight. So fucking -.’ Dipping his head, Sero locks eyes with you, mouthing a silent ‘You okay?’ as he struggles to contain himself.

You nod with your eyes half-shut. Each shallow thrust has you feeling him in your lungs. He rocks forward slowly, pressing himself firmly inside of you before withdrawing - only to repeat the gesture again. It takes your breath and makes you wriggle, hips pulling back to stop the fullness as he seems to fill you more and more. The roll of his piercing has you lost, a sea of ecstasy just waiting for you to drown in it. ‘I -.’ You try to speak, but the words don’t come. Instead they transform, leaving you in the form of a pretty moan that makes both men groan back an answer.

From around Sero’s lithe frame you catch glimpses of Riot. He’s relaxed, his broad shoulders sloping as he lifts a hand to grip the plush side of his chest. A moan shakes his throat as a thumb brushes across his nipple, his eyes flickering from Sero’s back to your face as you roll your head back and moan.

It should scare you. He should scare you. But he doesn’t.

A broad palm splays across his chest, slinking down the plain of his stomach until it reaches his pants. Tilting his hips, he yanks back the buckle of his belt and cracks the leather. The top button of his pants follows, popped open with a thumb as he dips in and hisses. His cock is hot and hard in his grip, kicking as soon as it meets the rough skin of his palm. Squeezing, he lets a groan vibrate through his chest. The thrum of adrenaline tickles his veins turning him into a live wire, one that’s likely to become deadly.

Sero continues to abuse your cunt. His thrusts have become sloppy and quick although each shock of his hips still has his cock nailing your g-spot like clockwork. The ache in your stomach has dulled, used to his assault, allowing pleasure to bloom and spread. Wrapping its tendrils around you, you’re dragged closer and closer to an orgasm that is sure to ruin you.

‘You gonna cum on his cock?’ Riot snickers. Removing himself from his underwear, he lets his cock bob against his stomach before taking hold of it again. He’s huge, far larger than Sero, with an upward tilt that makes your mouth water. It bobs there, struggling under its own weight, even with his hand for stability, and pulses when he strokes it with his thumb, spreading pre-cum down his shaft.

You open your mouth to answer, worried about the repercussions silence would bring and choke on a scream.

A weight falls over you. Sero’s arms bracket your shoulders, his spine concave as he loses himself to the feel of your velvet walls. Fear and arousal pool in his gut, creating a concoction deadly enough to make him fall. He’s wired, his entire being focused on pleasing as he ruts desperately into you.

The head of his cock bullies the roof of your cunt, forcing you to feel each pearled metal ball impaled on his shaft. They roll against your walls, making you see static on the insides of your eyelids. Your arms stretch, the muscles in your biceps straining as you thrash against your bonds. The cold bite of the handcuffs marks your skin, couples each of your movements with a starburst of pain that tickles your nerves in a way you’re not sure you hate. It makes you light headed. Around you, the air almost burns - it strokes your skin, licking at the beads of sweat that collect against your curves.

‘I -.’ Sero gasps. The light disorients him as his eyes snap open. So lost in you as he was, the shock of seeing you again almost makes him dizzy.

Below him you gasp. With your eyes locked on his, you’re almost able to forget the mess unfolding around you. Arching your back, you press up into him just as he drives down his hips. Your bodies meet, a harsh coming together that almost has your limbs turning to jelly, but you hold on - if only to feel the rush of him again.

‘I’m gonna.’ Stuttering, Sero’s arms band.

‘Inside.’

Riot’s voice echoes. Closer. Harsher.

You blink. Riot looms over Sero’s back, his cock is still hard, leaking onto the black of his pants and now, it presses to the fat of Sero’s thigh. A broad palm splays across the small of his back, pressing him forward, forcing his hips flush against yours as he leans in close and nips at his ear growling a singular word: ‘Inside.’

Sero spills at the command. You feel it, a rush of warmth before you even have time to protest. Each pulse of his cock brings another thought to the surface leaving no room for complaint. Forced to stay there, you get every drop - feel him fill you until you until his cum begins to leak back out and down his shaft, dripping onto the bed beneath you.

Sero groans, his body shaking as he attempts to come down from his high as reality hits him like a train. ��I - Fuck, fuck… I’m sorry. I -.’

Riot rolls his eyes. Letting his hand slip up Sero’s back, appreciating the contours of his muscles, he wraps a broad palm around his neck and curls his hand into a fist. He tuts. ‘Well you were a fucking disappointment.’ Using his grip, he launches Sero from the bed and abandons him as he crumbles against the wall.

You scream. Lurching from the bed, you try and fail to rip the handcuffs from your wrists. The metal burns, cuts deep and dampens your struggle leaving you panting and vulnerable on the bed.

Riot closer, his cock bent under its own weight and weeping against his thigh as he lifts it to keel on the bed.

Against the wall, Sero feels his head spin. There’s pain radiating down his spine and spanning his shoulders, making each of his nerves scream as he tries to scramble to his feet. He can see you, chained and helpless, the insides of your thighs still shining with his spend as you lift a leg to kick Riot in the shoulder. It doesn’t work. It doesn’t even slow him, instead, he bares down on top of you to close the gap. Scrambling for purchase on the floor, he fights through the rising bile that threatens to steal his vision and tries to stand. He has to. He needs to get up. He needs to protect you. Needs to…

‘Bakugo.’ The man’s voice is surprisingly sweet when he turns his head and talks to the air, but the smile he offers is anything but.

Arms emerge from the darkness behind Sero and wrap around his shoulders. The grip is steel, the fingers digging into his flesh tight enough to leave reddened indentations on his skin. He struggles, but it’s useless. He’s stuck fast and tight. Twisting, he turns to sight his captor.

Bakugo’s eyes are dull. His ruby iris’ are shadowed and hollow, the echo of the bags hanging under them evident in his gaze. Sallow skin stretches across his cheeks, purple and red in all of the wrong places. The skin of his arms is much the same, although the muscle there betrays any thought of malnourishment. His biceps are thick, his hands strong as they pull, holding Sero to the bars of his cage.

He’s drugged, or something, he has to be.

His lips are shining.

He can smell it. Spiced apple.

Sero struggles.

Bakugo holds on tighter, pressing both himself and Sero closer together.

‘What the fuck - What the fuck.’ Sero glances down, feeling the press of something hard and wet at the small of his back. He hadn’t noticed, of course he hadn’t fucking noticed. Bakugo is naked, his cock hard and dripping behind his bars. He tries to pull away, but he should know better by now. There is no escape. With wide eyes, he looks back to you - panic rising in his throat as he swallows the pride screaming at him to save you.

Riot pauses his assault on you, thick arms holding him up as he hovers above you - a silent threat. He cocks his head, noticing Sero’s blown eyes and slack jaw. ‘Oh, there’s more where he came from.’ Clicking his fingers, he summons movement in the room.

From the bars of the cages, more arms appear. Another three men step forward with hollow eyes and hard cocks.

One wears a sleepy grin, his purple hair tousled and twisting from his scalp. Another has coloured hair, red and white, and the body of an athlete as he leans against the bars and stretches out. The third is blonde. Smaller than the other two, he kneels his cheeks pressed to the bars, eyes drawn to Sero’s, now flaccid, cock.

Behind them, more move. A woman with bubblegum pink hair wraps herself around one of the men, her nipples pebbled. A second appears behind Sero, the smell of her cunt palpable in the room as she smears her wetness across Bakugo’s shoulder.

All of them have shining stained lips.

All of them smell faintly of apples.

‘What the fuck is this?’ Sero yells. His throat is raw, his muscles screaming. ‘What the fuck - How many, are you drugging them?’

Riot laughs. He has no intention of answering. Instead, he licks his lips and tastes fruit. ‘They’re all gonna have their way with you…’

There’s that smile again, the one that makes Sero feel like he’s being held under a guillotine.

‘You can have Bakugo last, he’s not the…’ Tongue at his teeth, he thinks. ‘Gentlest. Best you’re nice and pliant before he has you.’

Sero’s mouth runs dry. He can feel them looking at him, feel their eyes burning into him, dissecting him like meat. Behind him, he feels Bakugo rut into his back, catching the head of his cock against the cleft of his ass. Then, a sticky kiss is pressed to his shoulder. A gift from the girl.

He swallows. Hauls in a breath. Condemns himself.

‘Don’t - don’t hurt her. Do whatever you want to me, but don’t… Don’t hurt her.’

‘Awe!’ You twist, roll on your side and cock your head. ‘You’re so sweet’ There’s a pout pulling at your lip, a break in your wonderfully terrified persona. ‘But you don’t have to worry about me.’

Riot leans over you and wraps a large hand around your jaw. Holding tight, he yanks you into a beautifully bruising kiss that leaves your lip bloody when he pulls away.

You smile, and this time - it’s full of teeth. You lock eyes with Sero, just in time to see the last of the hope drain from them. ‘He was right, you know. I do like it when it hurts, just a little bit.’ You giggle.

Letting the noise ricochet around the room, you reach forward and swipe a small metal fob from Kirishima’s belt loop and press the button at the centre. The screech of metal fills the air, the smell of sickly rotten apple flooding the room as each of the cages opens.

‘Please…’ Sero begs, watching as people slip into the room from the darkness hunger lingering in their dim eyes. Even Riot shifts, bewitched by your siren’s whim. ‘Please, I’ll… I’ll do anything.’

‘Yeah.’ You lick your lips, tasting apple-spice. ‘You’ll do anything for me.’

-> Masterlist

#sero smut #Sero x reader #kirishima smut #Kirishima x reader #sero x reader smut #my hero academia smut #halloween smut #saturnsorbits #saturnscribbles

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