#I HAVE TEARS IN MY EYES THINKING ABOUT THIS MAN…
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suiana · 3 days ago
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thinking about a yandere who was cursed by the gods (something similar to medusa), not because he did anything wrong, but because they found him too beautiful and too tempting.
what was once a god of a man was now but... still a handsome man, just with cursed eyes. with eyes that turn anyone into stone the second he gazes upon them. everyone who he once knew were now nothing more than mere statues, having glanced upon his beautiful eyes that now bring death.
he has chosen to live in solitude, away from everyon- well, not really. it's just that the once lively place he lived in.... wasn't so lively after all. i mean, they all turned into stone 💀
anyway, he shut everyone out because #1 they were all dead and #2 he didn't want to lose another person that he loved. what better way than to just... not interact with society and become a social hermit?
enter, you.
little ol' you who accidentally wandered into his place. he was flabbergasted and terrified. shit, he didn't want to kill an innocent person! so he tried to scare you away by making weird noises and blockign off your path while simultaneously not showing his eyes.
but wow, you just kept coming closer and closer!
"stay back! i'm warning you! you'll regret it!"
he tried to cover his eyes, tears threatening to spill from them as he absolutely majestiv form trembled on the spot. man, was he really about to take the life of another innocent person who didn't deserve to get turned into stone??
then you told him you were blind and he felt the fear leave his body as fast as it came.
from then on, the two of you chatted daily, talking about your different lives and such. it helped him regain a sense of... normalcy that he thought he'd forgotten. it was nice having you around.
so much so that he actually started to develop feelings for you. feelings that were so deep and obsessive that others would've probably ran away. not you though, never you. you were the only one to stay by his side despite his unusal predicament. perhaps the gods were sorry for playing such a cruel fate on him and decided to give him a blessing?
wrong.
"sweetheart! sweetheart! it's a miracle!"
your voice snaps him out of his daze, filling him with a giddy feeling that he's come to love and crave. oh you are just so delightful! he swears he could just lock you up to coddle you in hugs and kisses for the rest of his miserable little life!
"darling? what miracle?"
he pauses, feeling his heart drop into his stomach the second you enter his room without your usual glasses on. wait... what are you-
"i've regained my sight! bless the heavens above i-"
"no! no! no! don't look!"
but it was all for naught. you had already turned to stone.
"fuck! why did this happen?! no no no.... please wake up. please, you can't leave me too!"
the beautiful man sobs, cradling you in his arms as his salty tears fall onto your now stone cold cheeks. he cries and begs, voice growing softer and softer as the sun begins to set. how could the gods be so cruel? what had he done so wrong for them to subject him to such a fate? fine! take away his friends! take away his family! but why did they have to take you too?
"please come back...."
things were only made worse because today was the day when he'd finally decided to ask you to spend the rest of your lives together.
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acourtofchaos · 3 days ago
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I SWEAR THE DAY I DON'T HAVE HEART PALPITATIONS AND WITNESS MY SOUL ASCENDING OVER YOUR WORK IS THE DAY I HAVE PASSED FROM THIS WORLD.
HOPE YOU'RE READY FOR MY MANY SILLY RAMBLINGS UNDER THE CUT
FIRSTLY THIS,
So when you pushed open the door to the room of requirement a little over ten-minutes later, you hadn't been sure what you were expecting to find. Something darker, maybe. More foreboding. But when the room revealed itself before you—silent, draped in soft moonlight that pooled over the bed with a window wide and open, spilling that pale silver fog across the floor—you almost laughed.
IS GORGEOUS. I LOVE THE EXPECTING OF SOMETHING DARK AND IT BEING SO LIGHT INSTEAD. AND LIKE IT BEING A PERFECT MIRROR OF MATTHEO AND HOW THE EXPECTATION OF THIS NIGHT BETWEEN THEM COULD BE. JUST HONESTLY BEAUTIFUL.
SECONDLY, YOU KNOW I ALWAYS ADORE YOUR CHARACTERISATION OF MATTHEO AND THIS IS NO DIFFERENT.
He turned, finally. His eyes met yours and you saw it—the hesitation, the way his gaze moved over you, slow, cautious. He took in the way the light draped itself over your shoulders, moving lower—and it was as if for the first time, he allowed himself to see you fully, all the details he had so tried to ignore, now right in front of him. He drank them in.
AND
He moved closer, but not close enough. Not yet. His breath was tight, chest rising and falling too fast. The space between you felt like a chasm, though it was barely there at all.
I LOVE THAT HE'S NERVOUS, THAT DESPITE HIM BEING ESSENTIALLY IN CONTROL OF THIS SITUATION GIVEN THAT HE HAS THE EXPERIENCE, HE'S NOT ACTING CONFIDENT OR SMUG. HE'S UNSURE AND I LOVE THE SENSE OF VULNERABILITY.
"I'm not hesitating," he muttered, though the roughness in his voice betrayed him. He knew he shouldn't be here, shouldn't be doing this with you. His best friend's little sister. He wanted to give you every chance to stop this, to walk away. "Just trying not to rush this—rush you."
I JUST WANT TO HOLD HIS PRETTY FACE. I LOVE PATIENT MATTHEO.
His hand caught your wrist, intending to stop you, but his fingers lingered against your skin. Frozen.
"We shouldn't be doing this," he muttered, the words thick in his throat. "Your first time should be—"
"My choice," you interrupted, pressing closer, your body flush against his, your lips brushing his jaw as your hand slid lower, teasing the edge of his belt. "My virginity is mine to give, Mattheo. And I want to give it to you."
He shuddered, your words settling, sinking into the dark space that held you both captive. His hand found your hip, the other threading through your hair, gently tugging your head back to expose the soft skin of your neck."You’re not thinking straight," he rasped. "You'll regret this..."
But even as he said it, his hands tightened, pulling you impossibly closer.
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I AM OBSESSED OVER THE WAR WITHIN MATTHEO, THE WAY HIS BODY AND HIS ACTIONS DISREGARD HIS WORDS AND HIS FEAR. I LOVE HER CONFIDENCE IN HER DECISION AND HOW MUCH IT EFFECTS HIM TO HEAR IT.. AAAAAAA SLDKFJDJS GOD I WANT TO MARRY YOU'RE WRITING (and you)
—his brain was struggling to catch up, like he couldn't believe the sudden shift, couldn't quite fathom the boldness with which you undid him.
Until—his hands were on you, spinning you around, your back hitting the desk with a thud.
THE FUCKING SWITCH HERE OMG
You shuddered—you'd never seen him like this before—there was something feral in the way he moved, now, something sharp in the way his hands worked.
His presence consumed the room, and for a moment, it was all you could focus on—the intensity of him, the raw, unfiltered hunger in his eyes.
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FERAL MATTHEO. FERAL MATTHEO. FERAL MATTHEO. I'M SCREAMING. HOWLING. CLAWING AT THE WALLS. I'D LET THIS MAN TEAR ME TO PIECES WITHOUT HESITATION.
"That's all you think about, isn't it?" He smirked, lips falling to your neck, tongue tracing the places he knew would wreck you, each soft, wet press making you whimper despite yourself. "You don't care about anything else..." his fingers slipped lower, dipping between your folds—and you cried out, shameless, the sensation unlike any other you'd ever felt. "…not the consequences, not the risk...you just want me…”
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I FEEL CALLED OUT.
"You—" you panted, trying to find your voice. Blinking through the haze of lingering bliss. "You can't say things like that."
"Why not?" He chuckled your name against your neck, lips brushing a path to your ear. "Because you might fall in love with me?" His teeth grazed the sensitive spot under your lobe, along your jawline. "Oh wait...you already have."
DAMN FUCKING RIGHT I HAVE YOU SEXY BITCH. GODDDD I KNOW I'VE ALREADY SAID IT BUT YOU JUST WRITE MATTHEO SO PERFECTLY. TO HAVE HIM BE SO FUCKING COCKY DURING SUCH AN OVERWHELMING MOMENT. HE'S A LITTLE SHIT AND I LOVE HIM FOR IT.
His face was a storm—flushed, eyes half-shut—but at your voice they opened and flicked down to yours, and for once, there was no arrogance, no mockery in that stare. Just raw, primal need, burning so fiercely it made you ache. His hips rocked, desperate for more. Painfully. A hole in his chest torn wide open for you to see, and he didn't care. Couldn't care.
THIS!!!!!!! THE IMAGERY!!!!! JUST ALL OF HIS DEFENCES BLOWN AWAY, I LOVE IT SO MUCH
His voice dropped, eyes dark and soft at once as he pushed another finger inside. "You know you’ve always had me wrapped around your fucking finger. You know I care about you—“
His words were too much, pressing on something fragile inside you, and you pulled him into a kiss to shut him up—deep, desperate, drowning.
I'M SOBBING, THE INTENSITY BETWEEN THEM. I CANT BREATHE.
"You've got me," he rasped, hips grinding involuntarily against your hand. "Just—fuck—don't hate me after this."
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JUST PUNCH ME IN THE HEART WHY DONT YOU.
His eyes were locked onto yours, all that self-assurance gone, melted into something more human—something raw, unguarded.
You could feel it; the vulnerability of this moment stretched between you both—the distance you'd maintained for so long, the careful walls you'd built, were nothing now. He was in too deep, and so were you.
"Stop me at any time," he whispered, his voice a raw rasp, eyes meeting yours. "Just breathe.”
He leaned down until his lips ghosted over yours, and you kissed him like the world might collapse if you didn't.
EM WHAT THE HELL, I DIDNT EXPECT TO BE AN EMOTIONAL WRECK OVER A VIRGINITY LOSS FIC AT 11AM. GOD THE SOFTNESS IS MAKING ME ACHE.
It was overwhelming—the fullness, the ache that felt like it might split you in two. And yet, beneath the pain, something else stirred. His words, soft and rough all at once, made the sensation bearable, turned the hurt into something else. You focused on his voice, on the way he stroked your hair, the way he held you like you were the most precious thing in the world.
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OKAY I'M GOING TO STOP THERE OTHERWISE I'M JUST GOING TO BE PUTTING THE WHOLE FIC IN THIS REBLOG WITH MY SILLY LITTLE ANNOTATIONS. I'M OBSESSED WITH THIS, I LOVE THAT DURING IT HAPPENING THERE'S BARELY A SENTENCE WITHOUT THEM NEEDING TO GASP FOR BREATH, THE INTENSITY OF IT IS JUST PORTRAYED SO WELL. YOU REALLY ARE A MASTER OF YOUR CRAFT AND I'LL BE WORSHIPPING THIS FIC IN MY HEAD FOR WEEKS.
LOVE IT AND LOVE YOU 🖤
SLYTHERINSLUT0’S KINKTOBER
october 4th. mattheo - virginity loss / corruption kink.
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PART TWO | kinktober masterlist. | 2024.
summary: pls read part one first for a lil buildup. also. im laughing at myself bc there was a perfectly good bed…right there…
warnings: 18+, SMUT MDNI, virginity loss, PIV, so much dirty talk, so much patience from mattheo, (more of a realistic virginity loss bc it’s not always easy), praise!!!!, slight degradation, fingering, multiorgasm, handjob, best friends lil sister trope.
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Mattheo Riddle was so accustomed to this. The pulse of adrenaline in the dead of night, the quiet hum of anticipation stretching every second longer than it needed to be. You weren't naive to that, not to him, nor the danger he carried so effortlessly in his stride. He wore it like a second skin.
But you—you were not accustomed to it. Not to any of this.
So when you pushed open the door to the room of requirement a little over ten-minutes later, you hadn't been sure what you were expecting to find. Something darker, maybe. More foreboding. But when the room revealed itself before you—silent, draped in soft moonlight that pooled over the bed with a window wide and open, spilling that pale silver fog across the floor—you almost laughed.
Too perfect. Too on the nose, like the castle itself had been watching you both for months and had decided this was the moment it would indulge you.
"You're late." Mattheo's voice cut through the quiet.
His back was to you, suit jacket discarded on an old oak desk against the wall, dark curls falling just above his collar as he stood by the window, eyes fixed on the lake. The moonlight made the ripples dance, just like the tension in the room.
You took a step toward him, silent.
He turned, finally. His eyes met yours and you saw it—the hesitation, the way his gaze moved over you, slow, cautious. He took in the way the light draped itself over your shoulders, moving lower—and it was as if for the first time, he allowed himself to see you fully, all the details he had so tried to ignore, now right in front of him. He drank them in.
You gave him a small, nervous smile, hoping it would ease the weight of his stare. "I didn't realize you were the type to keep track of time."
He moved closer, but not close enough. Not yet. His breath was tight, chest rising and falling too fast. The space between you felt like a chasm, though it was barely there at all.
"You've a lot to learn, little girl," he teased, that familiar smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, though it did nothing to mask the conflict in his eyes. It was meant to disarm you, but it only made the air heavier. His jaw tightened. "You're sure about this?"
"Quite sure," you breathed, stepping closer, close enough to admire the sharp line of his jaw, the soft stubble. "You're the one who's hesitating."
"I'm not hesitating," he muttered, though the roughness in his voice betrayed him. He knew he shouldn't be here, shouldn't be doing this with you. His best friend's little sister. He wanted to give you every chance to stop this, to walk away. "Just trying not to rush this—rush you."
You let out a small huff, your hand moving up to find his chest, feeling the rapid thud of his heartbeat beneath your fingertips. Mattheo Riddle was nervous.
"You've been making me wait for months," you whispered. "I don't think a little rushing would hurt."
He swallowed hard, his eyes locked on your hand as it trailed over his chest, lower, teasing. Every touch was a flame against his skin, every breath between you a match struck in the dark. He wanted you, more than anything, but the weight of it—the wrongness, the danger—clawed at his conscience.
His hand caught your wrist, intending to stop you, but his fingers lingered against your skin. Frozen.
"We shouldn't be doing this," he muttered, the words thick in his throat. "Your first time should be—"
"My choice," you interrupted, pressing closer, your body flush against his, your lips brushing his jaw as your hand slid lower, teasing the edge of his belt. "My virginity is mine to give, Mattheo. And I want to give it to you."
He shuddered, your words settling, sinking into the dark space that held you both captive. His hand found your hip, the other threading through your hair, gently tugging your head back to expose the soft skin of your neck.
"You’re not thinking straight," he rasped. "You'll regret this..."
But even as he said it, his hands tightened, pulling you impossibly closer.
"I'll regret nothing." Your fingers slipped lower, grazing his crotch, moving with nothing but instinct and need. Biting your lip, you felt the outline of him, hard and aching under your palm, and squeezed—he grunted, snapping his hips, and you throbbed. "Shit, Mattheo..."
"You are—fuck..." Mattheo's voice was a ragged breath, the words drawn out like he'd been holding them back for months. "...such a little tease."
You let go as quickly as you'd squeezed, and he growled against your skin, fingers tightening in your hair. Your hands found his face, pulling him in, crushing your lips to his. You moved with intent, pushing him back until his thighs hit the edge of the desk, and he groaned again—this low, guttural sound that sent a thrill through you.
You smirked into the kiss, tasting his frustration, savouring the way his defences cracked open. When you pulled back, his chest was heaving, lips swollen, eyes dark with want.
"I learned from the best," you whispered, teasing as your fingers slid down, finding the buckle of his belt. He watched you, every breath uneven, as you worked at the latch, pulling the leather free. "You've had months of fun tormenting me," you continued, moving to the button, the zipper. "Kissing me, only to say it was a mistake. Grabbing my ass every chance you could. Talking sweet when my brother wasn't looking..." your smirk deepened, and you looked up at him through your lashes. "...it's my turn now."
His pants sagged around his hips as you undid them and he cursed under his breath—his brain was struggling to catch up, like he couldn't believe the sudden shift, couldn't quite fathom the boldness with which you undid him.
Until—his hands were on you, spinning you around, your back hitting the desk with a thud.
"You think you're in control here?" His fingers slid up your hips, dragging your dress along with them, baring your skin to the cool air. "You think you have any goddamn idea what you're doing?"
You shuddered—you'd never seen him like this before—there was something feral in the way he moved, now, something sharp in the way his hands worked. His thumbs hooked around your panties and in one swift motion, they were gone—torn down your thighs before he urged you back onto the desk, parting your legs with his torso.
You were breathless, chest heaving, pulse thrumming wildly. His presence consumed the room, and for a moment, it was all you could focus on—the intensity of him, the raw, unfiltered hunger in his eyes.
You stared up at him, mind empty, until—
Smack.
His palm came down on your inner thigh, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to send a jolt of sensation straight to your cunt. Your skin stung from the contact, but that wasn't the part that made you gasp. It was the heat, the way it surged through your veins, flooding your abdomen in a slow, aching pulse. You liked that.
"I asked you a question." His lips brushed against your ear, breath warm as he leaned in. "Two, actually."
You couldn't think, mind swimming—the press of his body, the rough timber of his voice, the weight of his hands as his fingers teased, climbing higher, brushing closer to the ache between your thighs. You sucked in a breath, trying to recall what he'd asked, trying to focus anything but the fire he was lighting in you—
But then, his fingers slipped further, closer, just barely brushing your slit, and your hips jerked involuntarily, chasing that touch.
"No—I don’t—“ the shame in the answer barely mattered. His fingers were so close, so close. "Gods—I just know I want you��"
"That's all you think about, isn't it?" He smirked, lips falling to your neck, tongue tracing the places he knew would wreck you, each soft, wet press making you whimper despite yourself. "You don't care about anything else..." his fingers slipped lower, dipping between your folds—and you cried out, shameless, the sensation unlike any other you'd ever felt. "…not the consequences, not the risk...you just want me…”
Your nails dug into his back and he sucked in a breath through his teeth, wetting his fingers in your arousal before gliding back up to your clit and tracing over it.
"Oh—Gods—" you whinged, moaning into his shoulder.
Mattheo’s hands were experienced—that much was certain. Those fingers knew exactly how to move, precisely how to trace light, delicate circles over your clit that made you twitch, squirm— nerves stripped as you took in the new sensation. It wracked every inch of you, and you could feel him savouring your helplessness, drawing out every ounce of tension that had been building between you for months.
“You’re soaked.” You could hear the disbelief in his voice. “...filthy little thing for me, aren't you?"
"Gods, Mattheo, yes—" your eyes rolled, thighs twitching against his hand. "I am—ohh—"
"Yeah?" His tongue traced a slow, wet path up the side of your neck, teeth dragging over your pulse. "You like this?"
His words were enough to make you want to scream, but no sound formed—just a low, broken moan that spilled from your throat, raw and shameless.
"Answer me," he murmured. "You ever orgasm from this before? Hm?"
"No—" your voice choked, trembling as you squeezed your eyes shut, unable to look at him, something like shame pooling in your stomach. "Oh, fuck—"
"No, what?" His fingers pressed harder, circles growing faster, more insistent, and his voice—Christ, his voice— "I asked you two questions, little slut. Keep up. You wanted this."
"Yes—mmf—I like it—" you whined, the words a desperate spill from your lips, too flustered to form anything coherent. "And no—Gods—you're the first to...to touch me like this..."
He figured as much but the admission tore through him nonetheless, his teeth sinking into your shoulder with a groan—not enough to hurt, but enough to leave a mark, a bruise, a reminder. His hand dipped lower, a finger pushing inside you without warning, pressing deep into your slick heat, and you cried out, your body tightening, pulsing around him, vision swimming.
"And this?" His voice was a smirk against your skin. "You let anyone else inside you like this?"
You knew he already knew the answer. You both did. He was reveling in it—the way he had you, trembling, helpless. You'd never heard him like this, never heard him so crass, so unfiltered, and the way he spoke made your whole body flush with heat.
"No." The word was a strangled moan, barely a breath. "Gods—Mattheo—you already knew that—"
He crooked his finger inside you, and your back arched, the stretch unfamiliar yet mindnumbing, his thumb working your clit. You felt teeth nipping at your earlobe, a hum into your eardrum—his body thrumming with the satisfaction of finally, finally letting himself have you where he wanted.
"Perhaps I did." He added another finger, curling them inside you, his teeth scraping along your neck in a smile. The groan that slipped from your lips was desperate, pained in its pleasure, your body reacting to every new inch of him. "Fucking hell—you can barely take two..."
Your head shook, words failing you. "Gods—Mattheo—I...fuck..."
A low grunt rumbled from his chest, his fingers moving quicker, slick with the evidence of your desire. "Feels good?"
"Yes—" you moaned, breath hitching, vision blurring as he pumped his fingers in and out, building something inside you that you couldn't name, something new, something overwhelming. "I feel—oh, gods—something...happening—"
"You feel something?" His voice was mocking, drenched in that innocent, teasing tone that had you falling apart. "Yeah? What's happening, princess?"
You couldn't find breath, couldn't form the words to answer him. The pressure inside you was mounting, intensity unbearable, your body tense and straining toward an edge. You clung to him, breathless, desperate for more, desperate for something, anything—
"I don't—" your voice broke as his fingers curled deeper, wetness flooding between your thighs, his thumb relentless. "Pressure—fuck—so much—"
He nodded. "Yeah? Pressure in that pretty stomach? Feels fucking good, doesn't it?"
"Fuck—yes, yes," your lids fluttered. "S’good—"
"You're so close." He watched you, drunk on your downfall, and smirked as you neared the edge. "You're going to cum for me."
Sanity shattered in your throat—words trapped, swallowed by the tension, leaving only the soft, unbridled whimpers you once might've once found embarrassing. But there was no shame now, not when you were this close, the pressure coiling tighter in your core, ready to burst.
"Ohh—" you managed, lungs sputtering, head tipping back. The sound of your voice, the way you moaned, was foreign, unfamiliar to your own ears. "Gods—oh fuck-"
"I know," he cooed, sweet like sugar. "I know."
You were a mess. Too close, too overwhelmed—everything was him. His scent, the heat of his skin, the feel of his fingers working that magic that had your body convulsing before you could even cry out, before you could process the way your vision blurred with the force of it. The climax hit like a wave crashing over you, and your moans were swallowed by his kiss, his lips on yours the second your body tightened, shaking against his hand.
He was relentless, rough and insistent, kissing you like he wanted to devour you whole—drowning out the world as your body pulsed around his fingers. You’d never felt such an intense sensation, lava coursing, replacing the blood in your veins. His breath stuttered against your mouth, a low groan vibrating through him, the sound making your spine tingle.
"F-fuck," he muttered, pulling his fingers from you, glistening and wet. "Messy little thing."
The words sent a shiver through you, not just from their meaning but from the way he said them, like something perverse, intimate. Your chest tightened with the warmth of them.
"You—" you panted, trying to find your voice. Blinking through the haze of lingering bliss. "You can't say things like that."
"Why not?" He chuckled your name against your neck, lips brushing a path to your ear. "Because you might fall in love with me?" His teeth grazed the sensitive spot under your lobe, along your jawline. "Oh wait...you already have."
"Shut up," you whispered, stomach flipping at the way he said your name, the way it dripped from his mouth like honey. "Have not."
"I've known for a while, you know," he mused, his voice so low, so quiet. "Don't think I haven't seen it—the way you look at me." He kissed your skin again, working his way up, each press of his lips something sacred, moving closer to your mouth. "The way you can't get enough of me."
You could kill him for it, for the way his words sunk into your bones, making all the feelings you've buried rise to the surface, pulling you under. He just had to go there—had to milk every inch of your composure out of you, because it's not enough for him to have you disarmed physically—sexually—he needed to have you disarmed emotionally, too.
Perhaps the worst part of it all is how right he was. Arrogant bastard.
"Stop talking," your hand drifted down, grazing the bulge in his pants, your fingers slipping under the waistband, rubbing him through the thin fabric of his boxers. It was reckless. You've never done this before, but God, you wanted to. "Stop talking and teach me."
The room tilted—the world off its axis. His breath caught, choked in his lungs as he grabbed your face and pulled your lips to his—his kiss wild, his tongue insistent, running along your gums and wrestling with yours for control.
"Fuck," he groaned into your mouth as you tugged his boxers down, freeing him, your hand wrapping around him. Hot. Hard. "Wrap your fingers around it, princess. Gentle strokes. Just like that."
Your heart stumbled at the sound of his voice, thick, raw and open. You tightened your grip, stroking him slowly, experimentally, and he hissed through his teeth, a groan vibrating through his chest.
"You're so big," you murmured, forehead against his, the words spilling out without thought. "So thick..."
"Fucking minx," he moaned. "Stroking me and telling me how big I am—fuck—you're not as innocent as everyone thinks."
"Only you know this," you whispered, your hand moving in slow, deliberate strokes, pulse soaring as he groaned. "Does it feel good, Matty?"
"Fuck—Christ—" his breath was jagged, words ripped from his throat like they barely wanted to come out, hips jerking mindlessly. "Tighter, mm—little tighter—"
Your cunt throbbed—each whispered invocation of a god not his own, of something he didn't believe in, forced a shudder through you. That's how you knew. Knew how lost he was. He’d no mind left at all if he was muttering muggle gods.
"Like that?" Your fingers squeezed around him, your gaze burning into his as you looked up through fluttering lashes.
His face was a storm—flushed, eyes half-shut—but at your voice they opened and flicked down to yours, and for once, there was no arrogance, no mockery in that stare. Just raw, primal need, burning so fiercely it made you ache. His hips rocked, desperate for more. Painfully. A hole in his chest torn wide open for you to see, and he didn't care. Couldn't care.
"Yeah—shit—just like that," he gritted out, grip on your hips bruising, but you welcomed it. Needed it. "Fast learner, aren't you?"
"You're a good teacher," you whimpered, a sound that was barely yours as his fingers slipped between your thighs, finding your slit, teasing you open again. "Oh—"
"You've always been a little teacher's pet," he groaned, thrusting into your hand as he slipped a finger inside you. The stretch made you wince, pleasure and pain blurring into something that sent sparks behind your eyes. He watched you, gaze molten. "Fuck—it’s gonna hurt, you know that, right?"
The ache spread through you, but you didn't flinch. "I know," you whispered as his thumb found your clit, making you gasp. "I trust you."
"I know you do." His voice dropped, eyes dark and soft at once as he pushed another finger inside. "You know you’ve always had me wrapped around your fucking finger. You know I care about you—“
His words were too much, pressing on something fragile inside you, and you pulled him into a kiss to shut him up—deep, desperate, drowning. Your hand tightened on his length, the heat between you flaring, and you moaned against his mouth, shaking with the need for more.
"I want you," you breathed, each syllable shivering on your lips as you clenched around his fingers. "I've wanted you for months—"
Months? No, it had been years. Years of wanting, needing, watching from afar, heart in your throat. Years of avoiding anyone else because no one was him. You knew he’d felt the same and it killed him. It wasn't logical, wasn't supposed to be like this—not with you, not now, not his best friend's little sister, not him whispering sweet, dangerous things while knuckle-deep inside your virgin cunt.
It was as if you both shook those thoughts from your minds at once. You’ll think about the implications later.
"You've got me," he rasped, hips grinding involuntarily against your hand. "Just—fuck—don't hate me after this."
Hate him? The very idea was laughable, absurd. You could never hate him. Not even in those moments you tried, not even when he deserved it.
"I could never hate you," you murmured, drawing him closer, lips trembling against his. "Just—please—"
Something shifted in his eyes, and he knew. Knew what you needed. What you both needed. You were vulnerable, trembling, but you trusted him—completely. You’d been in his life for so long. You knew he’d never hurt you. He could see it your eyes, the trust, the in the way your body bent to his touch.
"Alright," he said softly, a hand running up your body to cup your face, thumb brushing your cheek. "Alright."
His fingers slid out of you, leaving you bare and breathless, and you swallowed. This was really about to happen.
"Lay back," his voice cut through your haze. "Legs to your chest."
The command wrapped around you like a vice, tightening the anticipation, and you fell back on your elbows, staring up at him as you raised your legs. Vulnerability crept in, making your thighs tense, but Mattheo was there, spreading you open with firm hands, pressing himself against your slick. His eyes were locked onto yours, all that self-assurance gone, melted into something more human—something raw, unguarded.
You could feel it; the vulnerability of this moment stretched between you both—the distance you'd maintained for so long, the careful walls you'd built, were nothing now. He was in too deep, and so were you.
"Stop me at any time," he whispered, his voice a raw rasp, eyes meeting yours. "Just breathe.”
He leaned down until his lips ghosted over yours, and you kissed him like the world might collapse if you didn't. He guided himself against you, the press of him at your entrance an unbearable ache. He was hot, hard, huge—and despite the wetness slicking down your thighs, your body resisted, too tight, too unsure of this.
You whimpered, instinctively trying to pull away, but he stayed, pressing kisses to your hair, your temple, whispering something that sounded like comfort but burned like fire. It hurt more than you expected, more than any of the fantasies you had dared to entertain.
Doubt curled through your chest, what if you couldn't take him? What if—
"M-Mattheo..." his name broke in your throat as you clutched his arm, nails digging into his skin. He tried to push in again, but your body resisted. "It—you—you can't fit..."
"Shh," his lips ghosted over yours, his hand slipping through your hair, trying again, moving slow, controlled. "You're just—so goddamn tight—"
The way he said it sent a spark through your veins. It was filthy, shameless, and it lit you up from the inside, despite the pain. No one had ever spoken to you like this. You swallowed the lump in your throat, tears pricking as he tried to work you open.
And then—he was in.
"I-it hurts," you hissed—pain lighting up your spine as he worked his cockhead inside you, pushing against the resistance of your walls. His breath came in sharp, ragged bursts, each inch a battle. The pressure was unbearable, the sting so sharp it was paralyzing. "Oh, fuck, Mattheo—"
He groaned, a sound from deep within his chest, his head bowing, sweat creeping over his brow.
"Shhh, I know—I know..." he murmured through shredded cords, fighting to maintain control as his hips paused, barely halfway in, just enough to make you feel like you might break. "S'okay...you're doing so good..."
It was overwhelming—the fullness, the ache that felt like it might split you in two. And yet, beneath the pain, something else stirred. His words, soft and rough all at once, made the sensation bearable, turned the hurt into something else. You focused on his voice, on the way he stroked your hair, the way he held you like you were the most precious thing in the world.
"Why—mmff—gods..." you could barely speak, the words tangled in your throat. "Why do you have to be so big—"
A strangled laugh escaped him, though his eyes stayed shut tight, his jaw clenched—cock twitching inside you.
"I don't—fuck—know." His fingers brushed your lips, covering your mouth gently. "Don't go talking like that—not right now—"
You might have laughed, too, if your body wasn't so taut, strung tight with tension and pain and something far more profound. He was barely inside you, his words making your insides clench, drawing another groan from his lips at the squeeze.
His hand held your jaw, palm pressing lightly over your mouth, enough to breathe, to speak—
"Why—" you knew what he meant, knew the warning in his eyes, but you couldn't stop yourself. "—not?"
His breath hitched. "Because—" he swallowed hard, words coming through gritted teeth, his fingers tightening around your jaw, a warning in his grip. "Because—fuck—your mouth will get you in trouble."
Oh. That was what he meant.
"But—oh fuck—you're so...big..." the words slipped out before you could catch them, a disgruntled moan falling from your lips as he sank all the way in, filling you so completely it was dizzying. The pressure, the heat, the sensation of being pried open—it was all too much, and you cried out, unable to stop the sound from spilling out. "Ohhh—so big—"
"I said, fuck," he cursed, hand clamping firm over your mouth now as his body shuddered, as he ground his hips gently into yours. "—don't say that."
It was too late. You didn't need to say anything further. He could feel it—he could feel everything in the way you clenched around him, barely letting him move—so goddamn tight it was almost painful—he could feel it in the look in your eyes, in the trembling of your body beneath his.
"I can feel you thinking it," he grunted as you squirmed beneath him, every movement making him twitch inside you, drawing another choked groan from his throat. "Merlin sakes—"
You knew he wasn't used to this. To slowing down, to drawing out the tension like this, to the maddening slowness of every motion. He wanted to lose himself, to break you open hard and fast, to take and give and take again until both of you shattered into something unrecognizable. But he couldn't—not with the way your eyes glistened, not with the way you gasped and whimpered as he filled you.
"No talking," he sucked in a breath against your neck, his hips rolling into yours in slow, unbearable waves. "Only if you need me to stop."
He was breaking. So were you. Every thrust was an exquisite kind of torture—an ache that twisted and stretched, dulled only by the flick of his fingers against your clit. His lips pressed along your neck, kissed along the line of your jaw, groaning with each deep, patient push, carving his way into you as you clung to him, your mind floating through the fog of pain into something different—something overwhelming.
Your head fell back. “Oh—Oh gods—“
Each gasp felt like it might be your last as that something built deep inside you, tight and unfamiliar, an ache that didn't hurt but begged to be released. And he felt it too—Mattheo felt it, the way your body pulsed beneath his, the way you tightened around him like you couldn't bear to let him go.
"Bloody fuck—are you—are you going to—" his words were ragged, broken. He couldn't finish the thought, couldn't hold himself together. "Are you—"
“Mattheo—” your voice trembled, a breathless moan as your back arched, pressing into him, your body seeking more. The pain was null now, replaced by an overwhelming pressure, something tight and aching and good—you felt every inch of him inside you, every pulse of his cock as he moved, slow but relentless. “Mattheo—oh gods—”
"Fuck—" he bit down, teeth sinking into your neck as his fingers swirled your clit in rhythm with his thrusts. "You're gonna make me—"
You choked because there was no space for words, no breath for anything but the raw sound of your bodies—moans, gasps, ragged inhales tangled together as you both hurtled towards something inevitable. The light of the moon radiated the man above you and that was all you could register other than the rising crescendo of your climax—something so intense it scared you, almost broke you apart—your body seizing, trembling, as his fingers pressed harder against your clit, as he thrust deeper.
And then, there was only one more blink until you shattered beneath him, the orgasm tearing through you in oceanic motion, muscles clenching around him so tightly he could barely move—and then he was there, too, his body jerking as he groaned into your skin, his release ripped from him in jagged gasps as you milked him without mercy. He slumped on top of you, fingers digging into your skin, the two of you pulsing together in the aftermath, the room spinning, your bodies still trembling from the force of it.
The world was slow to return, the roar of sensations fading into something quieter, softer. The weight of him on top of you was grounding—his forehead pressed against the crook of your neck, his chest heaving as he caught his breath. Neither of you moved for a long while, just basked in the silence, kind that settled in after something irrevocable had passed between two people.
And then, Mattheo pushed up, enough to meet your eyes. Your chest ached at the softness inside his own.
“Are you—” he swallowed as he drank you in, the sheen of sweat on your skin, the flushed cheeks. His words hung in the air as if he didn’t know how to finish the question.
“I’m okay,” you nodded, voice hoarse. “I’m good.”
Mattheo nodded too but didn’t move, still buried inside you, just taking you in. Then, gently, he shifted, pulling back with a slow, careful movement that made you wince slightly. The second he’d pulled out, you felt different—more aware of the vulnerability you’d just laid bare, more aware of the line you two had just obliterated into absolute shambles.
“You sure?” he asked, a flicker of something deeper in his gaze—
You nodded again, the smallest smile pulling at your lips, though your heart was still racing, the enormity of it all sinking in.
“Yeah,” you whispered. “I’m sure.”
His jaw tightened, his hand brushing a strand of hair from your face, his thumb lingering on your cheek.
“This changes everything, doesn’t it?” His voice was barely audible, like he didn’t want to admit it out loud.
Of course he was thinking it too—how could he not? This was no longer something you could pretend didn’t exist, no longer something you could hide behind banter and stolen glances and secret kisses.
“Yeah,” you breathed, fingers tracing the line of his jaw, feeling the tension there, the heat still radiating from his skin. “It does.”
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the-kr8tor · 1 day ago
Note
For you Ekko reqs, may I suggest R and Ekko hurt/comfort where Ekko slowly confides with R about what happened at the end of show (like probably a year or 2 of Ekko trying to process everything) and how he sometimes wished he stayed at the alt timeline? 🥲 Just him processing his grief of everything while R comforts him. Mans deserves better
-😅
Ahhhhh writing this made me tear up ngl 🥲 I hope you like it! ❤️❤️❤️
Pairing: Ekko x fem! Reader
Word count: 1.3k
Tags: no use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, established relationship, can be read as platonic, cw violence mention, cw injury mention, cw blood and death mention, hurt/comfort.
Navigation
ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ
“Ekko?” Your call is carried by the cool autumn wind, breeze fluttering your lashes as you stare at his back. You see him shrink in his seat, face hidden on the crook of his elbow. Walking closer, footsteps clanging against the metal balcony where you always find him on the same day it all happened. “You'll catch a cold up here.”
Piltover shines in front of you, warm light flickering off by the windows as people settle in for the night. But the glimmering fire paper still flies above the city, its light fading as it burns out in the breeze. It's the anniversary of that day, the day Piltover and Zaun saw war right on their doorstep.
Your arm aches, a phantom pain ebbing in and out when your mind goes back to that exact day where the sky was covered in searing smoke, and the streets splashed in warm crimson. Thumb brushing along your scar, it's a mark, a reminder of what was lost that day.
After a minute, Ekko sighs, still unmoving on his spot. “I'm not leaving.”
“I'm not trying to make you leave.” You fetch the blanket that was folded and draped over your shoulder. “I have a blanket for you. If you want it.”
He turns his head slowly over to you, mind playing tricks on him as he sees the flash of you bleeding and yelling for him. Eyes bloodshot, skin clammy and marred with blood. As fast as it came, he blinked and it's gone. Vision returning to the present, the present that wouldn't be possible if not for his sacrifice.
“Don't just gawk at me, bossman,” you smile gently at him, the blanket now unfurled in front of you, ready to drape it over his trembling form. “Do you want it or not?”
The corner of his lip curls up in a small smile, his eyes are tired, weighed down by the world. “Come sit down?”
He has never asked you to join him. You always left him alone up here whenever the anniversary comes around, thinking that's what he needed. But you always waited patiently just outside the door, sitting down on the cold steps while you let grief wash over you like the tides. Until it's time to pick yourself up again at the sound of the door opening. His hand helping you up wordlessly, grief holding the two of you in place, mourning together silently. When morning comes, everything seems to go back in place. The sun still shines, the world still breathes. But it lingers, that grief that has etched itself in your bones, sorrow that lives in his chest, weighing him down but never letting it fester and spread.
You two continue to fight, to improve the very place where blood has been spilled. Carry their memories, their names and their voices until the end. Lest their sacrifices would be in vain. Ekko's sacrifice would be in vain. He deserves better, to not bear the heaviness left in his soul.
“Are you just gonna gawk there or will you take a seat?” He uses your own words against you.
“Can't help it,” you say, heart pounding in your chest as you take a seat right next to him. Giving him enough space, but close enough to see his heavy eyes marred by unshed tears. “You look good under the moonlight.” You joke in an attempt to make him smile.
Ekko manages to chuckle softly, letting you drape the fluffy blanket around his shoulders. Your warm fingers grazing along his cool skin, sending goosebumps on his lean arms.
“Do you find my frown charming?”
You smile kindly, knuckles brushing down his goosebumps. “It’s the tear stained cheeks that gets me everytime.”
He scoffs with a small smile, attention turned towards the Piltover sky. The smell of burnt paper and violets linger in the air, frown deepening at his racing thoughts.
“Will you stay?”
With trepidation, you take his hand in yours, giving him enough time to pull away. He doesn't, instead, he weaves his fingers around yours. His grip is weak, but you can feel how much he needed it by how his eyes stare at your joined hands.
“Of course, whatever you need, Ekko.” You'll stay forever if he asks.
He nods, eyes staying downturned. “I wanted to stay at that place.” Letting out a shaky breath, he closes his eyes, trying to remember what they look like in his mind's eye. Faces that he once thought that he'll never see again. Faces that he had to say goodbye to. “But that would be selfish. I couldn't—” you squeeze his hand. “—I couldn't just leave this place and let it burn.”
The last two years have melded together in your head. All those months of waiting for him at the edge of the hideout, never losing hope, not even when they declared him dead. And then the war came, and you two didn't have the time to reunite, until it ended with you laying half dead on the streets of Piltover. Waking up to him holding your hand in a grip, wishing for you to open your eyes. And you did. A year later, he comes to you, angry and furious, wanting to let it all out. You still remember the day he told you exactly what happened when he disappeared for months like it was yesterday.
He recalls it all like it was a dream, a dream that was destined to be forgotten once he awakes. He didn't want to wake up, not when everything he always dreamed of was there. He gripped onto you tightly that day, held onto you until the sun rose. Nothing was left unsaid, his story left a hole in your heart, wishing that you've seen it for yourself. But you're afraid that you wouldn't be strong enough to leave, as strong as him who made a difficult choice to leave.
He has experienced unthinkable loss, a longing you've never felt. You don't have the exact words to comfort him, to soothe his want, so you move closer to him, fixing where the blanket has fallen and wrapping it over his body like a warm cocoon. You could only hope that it's enough, but you know it will never be enough.
Ekko tucks his head on your shoulder, hand finding its way over to your raised scar. His thumb traces along the skin, feeling your warmth and in turn comforting you. He knows the pain you're in too, he witnessed it, all the nights you've hid away only to come back with red eyes and grief etched on your face.
“I couldn't leave you and Zaun behind.” He mumbles against your shoulder.
Your heart wretches out of your chest. “It wouldn't be selfish.” You say, whispering it into the air around you. “I think— I would've done what you wanted to do. I wouldn't be strong enough to leave, but you did.” He leans away, eyes soft and shining under the moonlight as he meets with your eyes. “You're brave, Ekko. You might not want everyone to know what you had to do to save everyone, but I know. And I'm forever grateful for what you did. For what you have sacrificed so we could live. I'll remember it until I can't, even then, I'll try not to forget.” Cupping his jaw, you watch as a tear slides down. You wipe it away gingerly, smiling at him as he leans against your warmth, eyes closing, shoulders slumping with every word you utter. “You did well, Ekko.”
He moves forward, leaning his forehead against your own, affection radiating off him. “Thank you.”
“We'll be okay. We have time.”
“I know.” He has seen it, one day that dream will come true.
With a tender squeeze, his hand takes the other edge of the blanket, pulling and covering you with its warmth right next to him.
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novaursa · 3 days ago
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Dragonbane
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- Summary: You go to Rook's Rest instead of Rhaenys and the rest is history.
- Paring: male!cousin/Rhaenyra Targaryen
- Note: The reader is a son of Daemon Targaryen and bonded with Vermithor.
- Rating: Explicit 18+ (for graphic descriptions of blood, gore and death)
- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround @literaturedog
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The hall of the Painted Table is quiet, the air heavy with the weight of war and grief. You stand at its center. The carved map of Westeros gleams beneath your hands as you trace a finger over the land your house means to reclaim. Beside you, your wife, Rhaenyra, paces. Her hand twists the golden rings on her fingers, her face a storm of anger and worry.
“Send anyone else,” she says, her voice firm but tinged with desperation. “Anyone but you. My mother lost her life to childbirth, my father lost his life to his weakness, and now… you would have me lose my husband to a battle that isn’t even yours to fight.”
You meet her eyes, the violet flames within them threatening to consume you. “It is my battle,” you reply evenly. “It is ours. Every step they take against us, every insult, every drop of blood spilled — it is all ours to answer. Vermithor is the only dragon alive who can match Vhagar. This isn’t about bravery, Rhaenyra. It’s about strategy.”
She stops pacing, standing just a step away from you now. Her fingers curl into fists at her sides. “Strategy? Strategy would see you dead! Do you think Aemond will give you a clean fight? Do you think Sunfyre will hesitate to tear Vermithor apart, or that Vhagar’s rage can be controlled?”
You step closer, your hands reaching for hers. She doesn’t resist when you take them, though she stiffens beneath your touch. “Rhaenyra, my love,” you murmur, softening your voice. “Do you think I don’t understand your fear? Do you think I am eager for this? But Rhaenys cannot go. Meleys is fierce but no match for Vhagar and Sunfyre together. If we send her, we lose not only a dragon but the Queen Who Never Was. And what then? Our strength relies on the alliances we keep. If I do not go, who will?”
Her lips tremble, but she is too proud to let tears fall. “You would ask me to wait here, knowing you might not return?”
“I would,” you say, your own voice beginning to crack. “And I would ask you to trust me. Vermithor is not so easily defeated. Nor am I.”
A scoff interrupts the moment, and you turn to see Daemon standing by the edge of the Painted Table, his arms crossed. His smirk is sharp and cutting, though his eyes are shadowed by something deeper. “You’ve got fire in you, boy,” he says, nodding in approval. “But fire can burn too bright. Listen to your wife. There’s wisdom in what she says.”
You glare at him. “And would you go in my place, father? Or shall we send our cousins to fight their battles for them?”
Daemon’s smirk fades, replaced by a flash of anger. “Watch your tongue. I’ve fought my wars. This isn’t about me.”
“No,” you reply, stepping away from Rhaenyra. “It isn’t. It’s about what we stand to lose if no one dares to take the risk.”
Rhaenyra’s voice rises, cutting through the tension. “This is not a risk worth taking! You are my husband, the father of our children, the heir to your father’s legacy. I will not be left alone to face the Hightowers without you.”
You look at her, your resolve beginning to waver under her fierce gaze. “And what if I were to refuse? What if I stood by while another died in my place? What kind of man would you have me be, Rhaenyra?”
She doesn’t answer, her chest rising and falling with the force of her emotions. Finally, she shakes her head. “I would have you alive. That is all I ask.”
You step closer to her again, cupping her cheek in your hand. “I will come back to you,” you whisper. “I swear it.”
She closes her eyes, leaning into your touch for a brief moment before pulling away. “If you don’t,” she says, her voice breaking, “I will burn the world for you.”
The room falls silent, the only sound the crackling of the torches. Daemon’s gaze shifts between the two of you, but he says nothing.
Finally, you step back, your decision made. “Prepare Vermithor,” you say, your voice steady. “We leave at first light.”
Rhaenyra doesn’t try to stop you again. She turns and leaves the hall without another word, the weight of her silence heavier than any argument could have been. You watch her go, feeling the ache of what you might lose settle deep in your chest.
Daemon approaches, clapping a hand on your shoulder. “You’ve got guts,” he says quietly. “And gods willing, they won’t be spilled on the battlefield. Fly fast, strike hard, and don’t let them see your fear.”
You nod, your jaw tightening. “Fear has no place on dragonback.”
As you walk toward the doors, toward Vermithor and the battle to come, you feel the weight of your family’s legacy on your shoulders. The fear you won’t show burns in your veins, but so does the fire of the dragon you ride.
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The wind roars around you as you soar high above the skies of Rook’s Rest. The faint shimmer of dawn outlines the horizon, casting a pale light over the smoke-streaked battlefield below. Screams and the clang of steel rise from the earth, but your focus is not on the chaos beneath. It is on the two monstrous shapes in the distance, silhouetted against the blood-red sky: Vhagar and Sunfyre.
Vermithor growls beneath you, a deep, guttural sound that vibrates through your saddle and bones. You tighten your grip on the reins, your other hand holding firm to your sword. “Steady,” you murmur. “They will come to us soon enough.”
And they do.
Sunfyre is the first to dive, his golden scales gleaming like molten fire in the light. His roar splits the sky, the sound sharp and youthful compared to Vermithor’s guttural response. You see Aegon, clad in his golden armor, urging his dragon forward, his lance raised high.
“Come on, you craven bastard!” you shout, leaning low over Vermithor’s neck. The Bronze Fury beneath you answers with a sudden surge of speed, his wings cutting through the air like knives. You feel the force of the wind nearly pull you from the saddle, but you hold firm, the adrenaline coursing through your veins.
The collision is violent. Sunfyre dives toward Vermithor, claws outstretched, but your dragon is older, wiser, and stronger. He twists at the last moment, slamming his massive tail into Sunfyre’s side. Aegon jerks in his saddle, clutching at his reins as Sunfyre shrieks in pain. Blood sprays through the air, bright and vivid, as Vermithor’s claws rake across Sunfyre’s golden scales.
"Is this the mighty king of Westeros?" you bellow, your voice carried by the wind. "Hiding behind a boy's dragon?"
Aegon’s response is drowned out by Sunfyre’s pained roars. Vermithor doesn’t relent. With a furious snarl, he lunges forward, sinking his teeth into Sunfyre’s neck. The golden dragon thrashes wildly, his tail lashing out and striking Vermithor’s side, but it’s not enough.
"Break him!" you command, gripping the reins tightly. Vermithor obeys with a brutal snap of his jaws. The sound of bone cracking echoes through the skies as Sunfyre’s neck is wrenched unnaturally to the side. Blood pours from the wound, a torrent of crimson that stains the golden dragon’s once-majestic scales. Sunfyre’s struggles weaken, his roars fading into gurgles, and then he falls, his body tumbling through the air like a broken doll.
Aegon screams, clutching desperately to his saddle as his dragon plummets. You don’t watch him hit the ground. Your attention is already shifting to the second threat.
Vhagar.
The ancient beast’s shadow falls over you like a stormcloud. Her roar is deafening, a sound that shakes the very heavens. Aemond sits astride her, his sapphire eye gleaming with malice as he points his blade at you.
“Did you think this would be easy?” Aemond calls, his voice cold and sharp. “You’ll find no victory here, cousin.”
“Come and claim it, then!” you shout back, spurring Vermithor forward. The two dragons close the distance in seconds, the clash of their bodies like thunder. Vermithor’s claws rake against Vhagar’s armored hide, tearing at the thick scales, while Vhagar snaps at Vermithor’s wings, her fangs narrowly missing the fragile membranes.
Aemond leans low, slashing out with his blade as you duck beneath the swing. “You’ll die screaming, like the traitor you are!” he snarls.
“You first!” you reply, swinging your own sword. The clang of steel on steel is lost in the chaos as the dragons spiral through the sky, locked in a deadly dance. Vhagar is larger, her sheer size giving her an advantage, but Vermithor is ferocious and unyielding, his age and experience matching her ferocity.
The sky becomes a blur of wings, claws, and blood. Vhagar’s tail slams into Vermithor’s side, sending you lurching in your saddle. You clutch at the reins, your heart pounding as you struggle to regain control. Vermithor roars in defiance, his jaws snapping at Vhagar’s throat. He manages to latch on, his teeth sinking into the tender flesh beneath her scales. Blood sprays, hot and sticky, coating you and your saddle.
Aemond yanks at Vhagar’s reins, pulling her away with a furious roar. “Kill him! Burn him to ash!” he commands. Vhagar rears back, her chest swelling as she prepares to unleash her flames.
“Dracarys!” you shout, and Vermithor answers. The two torrents of fire collide, the heat so intense it scorches the air around you. The force of the blast throws both dragons apart, their wings flailing as they struggle to stay aloft. You cling to the saddle, your vision blurred by smoke and ash.
And then it happens.
The two dragons charge at each other once more, their momentum unstoppable. They collide with such force that you feel the impact in your bones. Claws tear into flesh, teeth rip through scales, and blood rains from the sky in a crimson torrent. The screams of the dragons are deafening, a symphony of pain and fury.
You and Aemond are both thrown from your saddles as the dragons lock together, their massive bodies spiraling toward the ground. You hit the earth hard, the impact driving the air from your lungs. Pain radiates through your body, but you force yourself to your feet, your sword still clutched in your hand.
In the distance, Vermithor and Vhagar crash into the battlefield, their bodies a tangle of wings and limbs. Dust and debris rise around them, obscuring the scene. You stagger forward, determined to finish what you started.
Aemond emerges from the haze, his face twisted with rage. His sword gleams in the faint light, its edge coated in blood. “This ends here,” he growls, stalking toward you.
You raise your own blade, your grip steady despite the pain coursing through your body. “It does,” you reply, meeting his gaze. “But not the way you think.”
The two of you charge at each other, the clash of steel echoing through the battlefield as the dragons continue their brutal struggle behind you.
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The clash of steel rings in your ears as you swing your blade at Aemond, his movements as sharp and calculated as your own. You’re both bloodied, sweat and grime mingling with the smears of red that coat your faces. The battlefield beneath your feet is slick with the lifeblood of men and dragons alike, a fitting stage for this deadly dance.
“You think you can kill me?” Aemond snarls, parrying your strike and stepping in close. His sapphire eye gleams with manic hatred. “I am a warrior, not a lord who hides behind his wife’s skirts. You are nothing but her puppet!”
The words sting, but they don’t shake your focus. “Better a puppet than a madman blinded by ambition,” you retort, sidestepping his thrust and slashing at his shoulder. Your blade connects, tearing through the leather and biting into flesh. Aemond grunts, staggering back, but his fury doesn’t waver.
Behind you, the guttural roars of Vermithor and Vhagar shake the earth. You spare a glance over your shoulder and see the two massive dragons locked in a death grip, their claws raking through each other’s flesh. Blood pours from gaping wounds in Vhagar’s side, painting her ancient scales a deeper shade of red. Vermithor, battered and bleeding, snaps his jaws around her throat, shaking her like a rabid beast. She thrashes, her wings beating wildly, but Vermithor doesn’t relent.
Aemond seizes the opportunity, lunging at you with a scream of rage. His blade slices through the air, catching your side. The pain is immediate, sharp and burning, and you cry out as blood seeps through your tunic. The wound slows you, but not enough to stop your counterattack. You raise your sword and swing upward, aiming for his head. He ducks, but your blade grazes his cheek, splitting the skin and sending a spray of blood across the ground.
“You’ll pay for that!” he roars, his voice unhinged. He charges again, driving you back with a flurry of brutal strikes. Each clash of your swords sends jolts of pain through your body, your wounded side weakening your defense. Aemond’s strength is relentless, and for a moment, it feels as though he might overpower you.
But you are not done yet.
With a desperate surge of energy, you twist your body, dodging his next strike and slamming the hilt of your sword into his ribs. He gasps, staggering, and you use the moment to close the gap. Raising your blade, you aim for his face.
He tries to block, but you’re faster. Your sword pierces his healthy eye, the blade sinking deep into the socket. His scream is inhuman, a sound of pure agony that echoes across the battlefield. Blood gushes from the wound, thick and dark, pouring down his face as he drops his sword and clutches at his ruined eye.
“You wanted to see the world burn,” you hiss through gritted teeth, twisting the blade. “Now you’ll see nothing at all.”
With a final thrust, you drive the sword deeper, the blade slicing into his brain. His body convulses violently, and then he falls to his knees, blood pouring from his eye and mouth. You wrench your blade free, and he collapses face-first into the dirt, his once-proud figure reduced to a lifeless husk.
The sound of Vhagar’s dying roar pulls your attention. You turn just in time to see Vermithor deliver the killing blow. His massive jaws clamp around her belly, tearing through scales and flesh to rip out her liver and entrails. The viscera spill onto the ground in a steaming, grotesque heap, the stench of blood and bile overwhelming. Vhagar’s massive body trembles, her wings twitching as she lets out a final, shuddering breath. Her eyes glaze over, and she slumps to the ground, defeated.
Vermithor stands over her, his bronze hide drenched in blood, his chest heaving with exertion. He lets out a victorious roar, a sound that shakes the heavens, before collapsing onto his haunches, his body trembling from his wounds.
You stagger forward, your own body screaming in protest. Blood drips from your side, your vision swimming as you take in the scene around you. The battlefield is chaos, but the tide has turned. The Hightower forces are in full retreat, their banners disappearing into the distance. Among them, you catch sight of Criston Cole, his armor smeared with blood as he flees with his men. The sight fills you with grim satisfaction.
But the victory feels hollow. The cost has been too high. It always is.
Your gaze shifts back to Vermithor, who watches you with weary, golden eyes. You place a trembling hand on his side, feeling the heat of his body and the steady rise and fall of his breath. “Rest, old friend,” you murmur, your voice hoarse. “You’ve earned it.”
Your thoughts drift to Rhaenyra, her face sharp and vivid in your mind’s eye. You promised her you would return, and you intend to keep that promise. Even now, as your body screams for rest and your wounds threaten to pull you under, you force yourself to move. Each step is agony, but you keep going, driven by the thought of her waiting for you.
You will return to her. You must.
And when you do, the war will not be over, but you will face it together.
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r0-boat · 1 day ago
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Feral!Lighter brain rot
I'm very normal about his EP
Cw: Dubcon, consent non-con, rough sex, No beta we die like men
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Thank you for coming to my TED talk...*explodes*
Even the undefeated champion can get overwhelmed whether it be from stress or simply becoming drunk off adrenaline from a fight.
All he wants to do is maul the next thing he sees, like a feral animal.
That's what pretty little things like you are for. He tells you over and over that he'd never hurt you in a soft voice that makes your heart swoon. But you know full well that he can.
He knows precisely what you want, You're not exactly the most subtle with your desires.
That thought had been driving you crazy. The What if Lighter: Your sweet, protective boyfriend wasn't so sweet with you? To see you as a toy to play with than someone that he cherishes more than anything else in the world.
Why not give you an experience to remember?
This is what you want. To have him come in just when you're about to go to bed. You're lying on the couch when your door knob clicks and turns. You know exactly who it is... There was only one other person you gave your spare key to.
It's not that you didn't want to see him. It's just that you weren't expecting him; usually, he would shoot you a maximum of three-word text when he came to crash or visit.
But this time, he practically barges in, slamming the door behind him. The look in his eye shivers down your spine as an imposing figure stocking closer toward you.
Your heart fluttered in your chest, especially when he left his jacket and shirt, dropped on the floor forgotten. He took his red scarf and wrapped it around his left hand.
"On. Your. Knees."
That wasn't a request.
You looked at him, eyes wide., Whatever was showing on your television was long forgotten. Your legs shook everything, urging you to drop to your knees and let him do whatever he wanted. But something within you stirred inside, whether it be curiosity or blind courage. It made your lips move.
"Make me."
Lighter's green eyes flicker at your blatant challenge. His eyebrows raise slightly. The silence is deafening as his lips curve into a smile. His left hand grips the red fabric as the other takes off his shades, tossing them.
He comes after you in a flash, His hand roughly grabbing at your color, yanking you until he hoists you over his shoulders. His fingers dig into your back as he brings you to your bedroom, tossing you on the bed with little care of where you end up before crawling on top of you, licking his lips. He could practically smell your arousal.
And he was just as aroused as you were. Scratch that He's more aroused than you are. He feels so bad for handling you similarly to how he handles riffraff. But he can't deny how hard his cock was pressing against his jeans.
He lets out a snarl His arms flexing as he tears his pants in two. Before doing the same to your shirt and pants.
"Hey! I just got those!" You yell, hitting his rock-hard chest. It's kind of cute how you think you can hurt him.
"too bad doll, should've listened to me the first time."
There was no ounce of gentleness to how the man handles you to flip over, grabbing your wrists, and tying you with the scarf.
Coating his fingers in his saliva before plunging it inside you. His hand and thick fingers force you open. His callused palm and rough scarred fingers groping your ass spreading you whiter as wide as he could to force his fingers deeper stretching you out for the hardness you can feel grinding against the crack of your ass.
Fuck... Your muffled screams sound so good. He wanted to be at least gentle when he fucks you, but It looked like his body had other plans. Taking you like this was so thrilling. His eyes rolled back as he lost himself in his own lust, ravaging your body till there was nothing left.
"Gonna fuck you... Going to fill you up and teach that naughty little mouth not to talk back!" Lighter growls in your ear taking out his fingers before plunge again in your mouth You're empty hole soon filled with something bigger screaming against his mouth and fingers as he immediately sets his pace.
You're tasting yourself on your tongue. The thought alone was setting Lighter a blaze.
Why do you make him like this? He could feel every ounce of self-control crack and crumble.
He was making so much noise from the bed rattling and his own moans your neighbors could probably hear but to be honest he doesn't give a fuck. All he cares about is fucking all the stress he has built up from god knows how long.
From how tightly you were gripping his poor cock, to your shaking, quivering body and you're sobbing, muffled mess with your tears soaking his thumb and palm, you were close. Lighter was, too. Lighter was so close. And all he wanted to do was fill you up fill your insides tell you were leaking.
You felt him sink his teeth into your shoulder before the both of you exploded at the same time. Lighter can feel you milking him as he came harder than he ever did in his life.
For the first time since he first started training, his body felt sore as he practically collapsed on top of you before quickly rolling off so he doesn't crush you.
When he finally catches his breath, He rolls over to your side, wrapping his arms around you and holding you to his chest, kissing your face.
"hey hey hey...shhh It's okay... It's okay we're done... I'm sorry. Did I hurt you?"
He'd never forgive himself if he did. But he got his answer when your arms wrapped back around him and he saw your beaming smile. He sighs in relief smiling back kissing your lips.
"I guess It's safe to say that you liked it.... Good... I did too."
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nemesyaaa · 1 day ago
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ohhh that's so good !! i wish they could fix the situation because it's killing me. let's all praying on a happy ending but this is legit fucking magnificient and i love this with my whole heart. your capacity of writing smut, angst and fluff is beyond the limits. im thinking of house of Nebraska by Ethel cain so i'm literally about to kms in my room. someone call an emergency 🦋😵
you could feel your heartbeat in your throat, raw with unshed tears, the vision of your ex-fiancé with another woman blurred by nothing but the tears brimming at the edges of your vision, so different from the ones that ran down your cheeks the day you'd said yes to him. — i'm not okay and i can't save my tears
you could feel how tired rafe was getting of your rant by the intensity of his lips on yours, using it to interrupt you, his fingers sliding under your jaw to help hold it up to meet his; and just like always, he didn't need to say one word for you to understand what he was communicating to you. — the audacity of this man....
the moment his eyes found yours, it felt as if all the air was punched out of your lungs, like the entire planet just stopped spinning. it didn't matter that the jewelry store's display was separating you; it felt like the first time he looked into your eyes and told you he loved you. — ignore me, i'm just trying to take a deep breath but i'm still sick to my stomach
"that's my fiancé!" rafe shouted as the nurse pushed him further from the door, "i have to go see her! you have to let me see her! just tell her that i'm here, she'll want-" — i'm not good, i'm not good, i'm not good, i'm not good 💔
but when you pulled it open expecting to see your mother, it felt like all the air had been knocked out of your lungs, like your heartbeat shot through the roof just from the sight of his downcast eyes. —hes BACK. For the best or the worse 💀💀💀
touchy subject II pairing: reader x exfiancé!rafe synopsis: seeing your ex-fiancé after four years. warnings: heavy angst. some fluff. miscarriage/stillbirth. vehicular accident. wc: 2k part 2 of touchy subject. part 3 / the final part coming soon. click here for part 1
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you could feel your heartbeat in your throat, raw with unshed tears, the vision of your ex-fiancé with another woman blurred by nothing but the tears brimming at the edges of your vision, so different from the ones that ran down your cheeks the day you'd said yes to him.
"of course i'll marry you." you pulled rafe to stand up, your arms around him before you could even think about what you were doing, rafe letting out a sigh of relief. "wait, wait, i gotta ask you something." you rushed out, pulling away from the hug, his hands still staying on your waist.
"what is it?"
"is this just because i'm pregnant?" you ask, rafe's brows furrowing in confusion, yet you left him no time to respond, "it's just- i want to marry you, but i don't want you to feel like you have to ask me just because i'm pregnant, and if you want to wait until the baby's-"
you could feel how tired rafe was getting of your rant by the intensity of his lips on yours, using it to interrupt you, his fingers sliding under your jaw to help hold it up to meet his; and just like always, he didn't need to say one word for you to understand what he was communicating to you.
the moment his eyes found yours, it felt as if all the air was punched out of your lungs, like the entire planet just stopped spinning. it didn't matter that the jewelry store's display was separating you; it felt like the first time he looked into your eyes and told you he loved you.
you wanted to run, to make sure you wouldn't have to face him, to have to hear what his voice sounded when you'd already managed to forget how it was to hear it in person, but it was like your feet had rooted to the ground within the few seconds that he spotted you.
and you begged to whatever entity that once you saw him approach the exit to the jewelry store, the other woman long forgotten, that your fight-or-flight instinct would kick in, but luck was never really on your side, because there he stood, his face the same as the last time you saw him, with a few lines added here and there, and a part of you couldn't help but ache at the thought of having missed the moment they appeared.
you looked up at him, into the same eyes you'd once imagined your daughter would have, the thought making the bout of nausea in your throat even worse. a part of you wanted to congratulate him, to tell you that you were happy for him, but it felt like the words were choking you, like they were burning in your throat. but the choice to even say something was taken from you, when you heard the bell above the door to the jewelry store let out a cheery ring.
"rafe…?" the red-haired woman called out, her brows furrowed in question, and the moment your ex turned around to face her, you took the opportunity to turn the other way, begging that your feet would take you away before you threw up on the spot.
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"i saw him yesterday."
"it was the first time you saw him in person since you left, correct?"
"yes. i sometimes checked up on his social media, but seeing him like this... so close to me i could touch him... it was pretty jarring. it felt like no time had passed, but also like i hadn't seen him in decades."
"and how did he look?"
"handsome." you chuckled softly, your hand going to fiddle with the locket around your neck, sliding it up and down the golden chain, avoiding looking at the zoom meeting displayed on the laptop screen. "he looked just like he looked with me. he looked happy."
"happy anniversary, rafe." you smiled softly as you pushed the gift box at him, your fiancé letting out a small tut.
"you know you didn't have to get me anything, right? you're enough for me already. both of you are."
"yeah, yeah, stop being all cheesy and chivalrous and open it already." you urged, watching as he lifted the lid of the gift box, his eyes widening as he looked down at the present, but before he could say anything, you stopped him, "look at the back of it!"
rafe rolled his eyes, picking up the steel watch from the box, and you could see his gaze soften the moment his eyes spotted the engraving on the back of the watch, the edges of his lips almost automatically twisting up at the words 'evelyn cameron'.
"is it bad that it makes me feel bitter?" you asked, chewing at the inside of your cheek, "that it's been four years, and i haven't been able to move on, but he has? that he's managed to be happy, but i haven't? that i don't know if i ever will?"
"the loss of a child..."
you couldn't help but tune out the words of your therapist like they were nothing but background noise, not knowing if it would be worse if she tried justifying your anger or if she tried to get you to understand why rafe had managed to move on, your eyes instead focusing on the heart-shaped locket you'd opened, the faces of the couple staring right at you.
"rafe, where are we?" you laughed softly, your feet hurting from the heels you were starting to regret wearing, the blonde having parked his car in front of a random house.
"you didn't think i wouldn't get you an anniversary present, did you?" when you didn't immediately answer, he pressed his hand to his chest in mock offense, shaking his head, "come on. lemme show you."
the two of you got out of the car, your heels clacking against the stone pathway leading to the house, rafe's muscular arm keeping you close to him, helping you walk.
when you got to the door, he let go of you, and you watched as he took out a set of keys without saying anything, twisting them in the lock and pushing open the door, looking to you enthusiastically, extending his hand to you.
the moment you stepped over the threshold, you were enveloped by warmth, rafe flicking on the light next to the entryway before turning to you as your eyes got used to the light, sliding his hands onto your waist, pulling you as close to him as the growing child allowed.
you looked into his eyes, yours filled with confusion while his were filled with nothing but sincerity, his thumb stroking your waist. "rafe, what's this?"
"it's our home." he said, bringing his hand to your bump, "i know it's not much, but it's got enough room for our family."
"rafe, this is-"
"this is my anniversary present for you. i won't take 'no' for an answer." he brushed a strand of hair away from your cheek, tugging it behind your ear, "i want us to build our own home. our own life."
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you kicked the radiator in frustration; it seemed like no matter what, the place wouldn't warm up. you'd called a maintenance guy, but they told you that it'd take at least a week for them to get someone there, and in the middle of winter, your only option was to light the fireplace in the middle of the living room while you waited for your mom to arrive with a portable radiator she told you she'd borrow you.
you sat in front of the blazing fire, your fingers fiddling with the frayed edges of the worn-out ultrasound picture you'd looked at a million times, your voice coming out weak from the sobs you were holding in your throat.
"hi, evie." you said softly, looking to the small urn next to you, engraved with the name of your daughter as well as today's date, only five years before. "happy... happy birthday."
"hi, baby." rafe's voice called out from the speakerphone of your car, the windshield wipers wiping away some of the rain falling down on you as you drove through the dark streets lit only by the yellow streetlights above, "are you almost home?"
"i am." you chuckled softly, "seeing my mom was so nice, even though she kept being all cheesy about how big i'd gotten. i swear, she almost cried."
"come on, she's gonna meet her grandkid in a month, of course she's gonna be all cheesy. if my dad had a paternal bone in his body, i'm sure he'd be ecstatic."
"yeah, well, you're not the one whose stomach is constantly getting pawed by people." you let out a snort, looking out into the road, "listen, i'm gonna drop by the store cause little evie's craving chocolate, do we need anything?"
"nah, just need you two home as soon as possible."
"aye aye, captain. see you soon, baby." you laughed, hearing the noise that signaled that the call had been ended, eager to get home and off your feet.
but before you could even realize what was happening, you were faced with a second pair of headlights that was approaching you, another car lit up by your own yellow headlights. and you swerved.
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maybe it's a part of the so-called mother's instinct to blame ourselves when something happens to our child. no matter how many people told you that it wasn't your fault, that there was nothing you could've done, every bone, every cell in your body couldn't help but beat yourself up over what happened.
rafe ran down the hospital hallway, the smell of disinfectant mixed with the feeling of his heartbeat in his ears making him feel nauseous, the man sure that it was beating 200/bpm, but finally, when he reached the hospital room the reception had guided him to, a sense of relief took over him.
a nurse walked out of the room, startled by the man, her eyes widening at the obvious sense of urgency he was displaying, "can i help you?" she asked.
"no, no, i'm just here to see my fiancé." rafe said, his hand going for the door, only to be blocked by the nurse.
"i'm sorry, but the patient has told us that she doesn't want any visitors."
"what?" rafe let out a dry, humorless laugh, his brows furrowed, "you have to let me see her, that's my fiancé. that's- that's the mother of my child."
"i'm sorry, but the patient-"
"hey!" rafe pounded the palm of his hand on the door, the hospital bed visible from the rectangle of glass on the door, the man able to see your mother hunched over your bed, holding you. "let me-"
"sir, if you don't calm down, i'm going to have to call the guards and they'll remove you from the premises."
"that's my fiancé!" rafe shouted as the nurse pushed him further from the door, "i have to go see her! you have to let me see her! just tell her that i'm here, she'll want-"
the door to your hospital room swung open, rafe meeting the crestfallen eyes of your mother, her lips pulled into a straight line. "rafe, she doesn't want to see you."
when you heard the doorbell ring, you wiped away the tears that had ran down your cheeks; you didn't want to make it obvious to your mother that you'd spent the last fifteen minutes crying, and even if she could tell by the redness of your eyes, you knew she wouldn't mention it.
you pushed yourself off the ground, placing the small urn and the ultrasound picture on top of the fireplace as you straightened out your sweater, your feet cold against the hardwood floor as you walked to the front door.
but when you pulled it open expecting to see your mother, it felt like all the air had been knocked out of your lungs, like your heartbeat shot through the roof just from the sight of his downcast eyes.
"rafe."
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thesacrificialdove · 15 hours ago
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THE BITCHING PROJECT
[ patreon | masterlist | inbox | taglist | home | req. & comms ]
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— it's like you were secretly asking for this !! degration kink, rough sex, dubious consent, deflowering, light dumbification, semi-public sex, manipulation ✧ ft.: yandere student council ✧ cast: nerd f!reader
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His hand grasps your hair as you choke around his girth. There's tears brimming in your eyes. Anxiety and confusion are washed away by the growing arousal in your stomach—this isn't normal. You've never been treated like this before. He's using your mouth like a ragdoll.
"Fuck," he moans, obsessing over the way your unexperienced tongue lays flat on the underside of his cock. "Such a good fucking bitch. How does it feel with your nose buried in my cock and not some books, huh?"
Nothing prepared you for the way this man is in the dim light: he's unlike his smile like a warm setting sun, hands tender to the brief passing touch, and voice an echo of hope and cheer.
He's fucking your throat like it's his newest assignment. Studiously, he memorises the plump of your lips and the heat in your throat. There's something primal yet meticulous about how he thrusts into your mouth. It's like he's thought this over and over again.
Your hands struggle for grip on his hips; he won't relent in his pace. Dizziness presents as you can't think straight—his cock the only thing that you can think of.
A guttural moan leaves him. "Can't believe you'd fall for some s-stupid shit like this. Now you're all fucking mine—" he pulls out, the head of his cock on your lips—"you like that, huh? Like belonging to me? I'll make you forget about your classes and I'll keep your cunt strapped on my cock instead."
There's a string of saliva that connects his cock to your lips. He plays with it, having fun smearing it all over your chin. The humiliation is tattooed in your brain.
You agreed to meet him because the Dean planned to give you the scholarsip—something you've been working so hard for. It's a lie. How could you have known someone from the student council would lie to you just to get their dick wet?
"Hey, hey," he pulls you up, sitting you on a desk. "What are you thinking about, baby? You're thinking too hard. Come on, I know you feel good."
And you do. Because after all of this, you still got a big fucking crush on him.
"S-stop it, please," you try to say. "I'm... I'm sorry if I did anything wrong but—"
He laughs. "You did nothing wrong. I love you, I do. But you're just to gullible. You have to know how adorable you look when you think everything you want is going to be handed over to you on a plate."
Red paints your face. Your heart churns at his words but he's standing between your legs with his cock wetting the inside of your thighs. Your cunt is being exposed with an easy pull of your panties to the side. The conflict of arousal and humiliation is too much to handle.
"How about this, hm? I'm going to fuck you better and tomorrow, let's see you beg for the Dean's cock to get that scholarship?"
There's contradictions on your tongue. It's taken out of you when he pulls your hips—his cock sliding between your folds and fucking you raw.
"F-fuck!" You cry. It's too big. His cock stretches you more than your fingers ever had, easily breaking the littlest resistence your hymen had. It makes you cry. Your heart hammers against your ears. It pulses in time with your cunt convulsing around him.
He's breathing against your cheeks; with the way he's out of breath, it's like he's enjoying taking your virginity like this. "Holy... fuck—did you never have a guy in here before?" he asks, as if he needs confirmation. "You're so fucking tight. I need you to loosen up for me, babe."
Not a single effort was made to get you to relax. He pulls back and fucks you right in, ignoring your pained little whimpers as it's being overshadowed by your moans. You're conflicted but he's so assured. Though your brain runs wild, your pussy sucks him in and is getting wetter by the second.
"So fucking good," he moans. "Tight fucking slut for me."
"I've never—agh! Never... had—!"
He chuckles as he bruises your hips with his hold. "I can fucking tell, baby. Shit. I can feel your cute little pussy hug my cock so tight. You love it so bad, don't you? I bet you fucking waited to be defiled by a cock this big."
You can barely muster a breath, nonetheless a word to deny him. It’s cruel how he pistons his hips. Your legs are in the air, toes clenching as half of his cock barely breaches inside of you. You’re gripping him with a vice, the pain dulling with the hot moans he breathes through your skin.
“God, that��s it,” his mouth instinctively opens as he spreads your folds open. Your pussy is spread. on the girth, his eyes trained onto where his cock disappears inside of you. You can tell he’s lost himself in the sensation when he has to swallow down his own spit.
He’s moaning, a growl emitting from him when you squeeze him. “Loosen the fuck up!” His hand presses against your stomach, trapping you on the wooden desk. “God, shit. For someone eager to take a cock in you’re so not prepared.”
The new angle just rubs your g-spot. A strangled moan involuntarily leaves you, his response being a dark grin spreading on his face. Knowing now, he continues to rubs up that spot. You want to pull your legs together but it’s tightly locked in his grasp. Toes curling, you tense up as he thrusts faster inside of you.
“S-so…” you gasp, hands gripping the edge of the table as you move with the force of his thrusts. “So fucking—so fucking good, haaah..!”
With each thrust, you lose yourself to the pleasure. Your cunt perfectly welcomes him in, even sucking him inside just to keep it rubbing against those nerves. You don’t remember a time feeling this good. The stretch is almost gone. Broken cries of pleasure are being punched out of you. He’s merciless and chases his own high, yet you’re being dragged along as you feel yourself soak and leak.
“Fuck,” he mutters, “I knew you’d love being fucked by me. I’ve been…. shit! I’ve been seeing you shake your cute little ass since you came. here. Knew you were so desperate to be claimed by me.”
He groans low in his throat. Swiftly, he throws your legs together on one side of his shoulders, fucking his cock deep inside of you. The new angle reaches further, your legs shaking from the intense feeling of being used like a toy for him. Your pleasure is undeniable. If you could see yourself, you would see your wet cunt drooling as your face is molded into a face of intoxication.
You can’t help it anymore. The slow yet deep thrusts spreads tingles from your pussy to the rest of your body. “‘m close…” you mutter, struggling to find diction. “So close—hng!”
“I didn’t hear you, “ he pulls on your hair from the roots, tugging it with enough force to electrocute your nerves there. “I can’t fucking hear you with your pussy gushing all over me.”
Cheeks turning a bright red, you try to cover yourself as he thrusts deep and short for emphasis. You can hear yourself make wet sounds with each movement. His words only make you wetter.
Trying to gather yourself, you take a deep breath with a hand over head your head. “I wanna cum, I need it so bad please… Need to cum on. your cock so b-bad!” You cry, surprised you could even form words when all you can think. about is that hot rod inside of you.
He’s forgiving. “Good fucking girl,” he sighs in relief as he continues his animalistic thrusts. The desk creaks each time and you would be worried for its durability if not for his hand lowering to play with your clit.
“Cum for me, cum for your new owner.”
The cock breaching your once-virgin pussy and the your clit being fondled only ushers you closer and closer to an orgasm. You couldn’t even warn him. With both hands reaching for his shoulders, a moan leaves you so loud you’re so everyone in the hallway could hear you.
You’re shivering. Your body is worn out and his cock pulls out of you—your orgasm flowing out as his own spurts on your face to your neck. He had clumsily aimed at your face, the angle awkward with your body half sat on the table. But the liquid splashed to your a bit of your lips, the taste of his release odd yet so erotic.
“Shit,” he mutters, the relief washing over him. You can see the satisfaction in his face; the slight upward tilt of his smile, the heavy breathing, his eyes examining every part of your body, all of it a testament to his amusement to having just defiled you.
There’s no need to speak. Finally, for the first time, he pushes his lips against yours.
In your years living, you haven’t given away your first kiss. In this moment, he had successfully taken two first times with you. His kiss reflects his previous desire to make his mark in your cunt. Breath hot, he pushes his tongue inside your mouth and is determined to lick every part of it.
You’re weak in his grasp. Every limb is numb and your pussy is still tingling. He’s kissing you how he wants as you simply struggle to breathe correctly. Your head is dizzy. There’s a cloud within your thoughts, simply unable to comprehend anything that is happening.
With a bite to your lower lip, that grounds you back to reality. He laughs into the kiss before placing his lips on your neck.
“So fucking dumb now,” he laughs, “don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll make sure you’ll get a reward for servicing my cock.”
Being his broken-in slut doesn’t seem so bad.
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UPDATE ! 📢 @wiltedpoison @elloredef @alureasoley
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@ 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐀𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋𝐃𝐎𝐕𝐄 this story is original and is not allowed to be shared without credits. do not plagiarise, feed to ai, or claim as yours.
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greengoblinswifey · 1 day ago
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Steamy Nights—Nicholas Chavez x Fem!Reader
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summary— you’re a sheltered college student who recently got your first job as a housekeeper at a fancy hotel. you stumble upon Nicholas Chavez while cleaning and he invites you to his hot tub in his room where one thing leads to another. based on this request.
warnings— age gap(reader is 19) praise kink, slight body worship, fingering, oral(f!receiving), daddy kink, loss of virginity, unprotected sex, mentions of blood, creampie, aftercare.
︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿
It had been a few weeks since you left your hometown and the ever-watchful eyes of your parents. You were finally in college, away from the suffocating grip of your sheltered upbringing. Now, you were free—free to explore, meet new people, and experience the world on your own terms. You'd always been the quiet, reserved type, but something inside you wanted to change that. You were ready to break out of your shell, to do what everyone else seemed to be doing, partying, flirting, and fucking.
You'd just landed your first job, working as a housekeeper at one of the fanciest hotels in the city. The kind of place where top CEOs, celebrities, and influencers stayed. The pay was decent, and it gave you the freedom you longed for, even though you were still adjusting to the hustle of your new life. You had a lot of cleaning to do, and the hours passed by quickly, but today was different. You were already thinking about the freedom you'd have once your shift was over, but you hadn't expected to find what you did next.
As you entered another room to clean, you realized there was no “Do Not Disturb” sign hanging from the door handle. You assumed it was just another room to tidy, so you entered without hesitation. The sight that greeted you, however, left you frozen.
The man standing before you was unreal. His body was sculpted like a Greek statue, muscles rippling under his damp skin, droplets of water glistening on his chest. His hair was still wet from the shower, and he was wearing nothing but a towel around his waist. For a moment, you couldn't find your voice.
“Sorry! I—I’m so sorry,” you stammered, your face flushed. “There wasn't a sign on the door and I just thought—”
You tried to turn away quickly, but your gaze was fixed on him, unable to tear yourself away from his presence. Your heart raced, and you couldn’t help but be entranced by his sharp features, the way the towel clung to his waist.
He chuckled softly, his deep voice sending a wave of warmth through your body. “It's fine, princess. Why so nervous?” he asked, his smirk playful yet intense.
You swallowed hard, trying to collect yourself. “I, um, I’m sorry, really.”
He took a step closer, and your breath hitched as he looked you over with what felt like a mixture of curiosity and awe. “Don't worry about it,” he said. “I'm Nicholas by the way, Nicholas Chavez.”
You blinked, a realization dawning on you. Nicholas Chavez. The famous actor. You’d seen him on billboards, in tv shows, and even heard girls talk about him endlessly. He was everywhere. And now, here he was, standing before you in nothing but a towel.
“I, uh, I know who you are,” you stammered, feeling your cheeks heat up even more.
He smiled, eyes softening as he looked at you. “Good. You have a name?”
“Yeah, it's Y/N.”
“Nice to meet you, Y/N,” he said smoothly, his voice low. He took a small step toward you, and you felt your pulse quicken. “So, how old are you?” he asked casually, his gaze lingering on you.
“I’m nineteen,” you replied, feeling a little shy under his attention.
He chuckled, his gaze never leaving you. “Nineteen, huh? You're—full of surprises.”
You blinked, unsure what he meant by that, but his next words made your heart skip a beat.
“How about this,” he said with a sly grin. “When your shift is over, come find me. My private hot tub’s always open. I’ll be waiting.”
For a moment, you hesitated, your mind racing. You’d always been the shy, sheltered girl, but something about the way he spoke, the way he looked at you, it made you feel different. More alive. Maybe this was your chance to break free from your past, to do something bold.
You nodded, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll come.”
His smile widened, and he gave you a wink before turning away, heading back to the bed. “The door’s always open for you,” he said over his shoulder as he flopped onto the bed, his gaze lingering on you. “Take your time.”
You felt a rush of excitement and nerves all at once. You finished your cleaning quickly, your thoughts buzzing with what was to come. You couldn’t stop thinking about him—about his body, his voice, the way he had looked at you. You felt like you were about to step into a new chapter of your life, one that you had been longing for.
The hours passed slowly, but finally, it was time. You’d made sure to pick out a sexy bathing suit, to wear underneath your clothes. As you approached his room, your heart raced with anticipation. You unlocked the door with your housekeeper’s key and pushed it open, your eyes immediately falling on him.
Nicholas was there, lounging on the bed in nothing but his trunks, his body looking just as perfect as before. He looked up and saw you standing there, and his eyes darkened, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.
“You came,” he said, his voice thick with satisfaction.
You swallowed, nodding. “I— I came.”
As he sat up on the bed, your eyes couldn't help but trace the lines of his muscles, the way his chest rose and fell with each breath. He was a vision of pure temptation, and for the first time in your life, you didn’t feel nervous. You felt almost empowered.
You stepped out of your clothes and into the soft light of his hotel suite, the anticipation buzzing in the air. You tugged at the straps of your bathing suit, a sudden surge of confidence rushing through you as you revealed the simple yet daring swimwear underneath. His eyes flickered, a smirk tugging at his lips as he watched you, his gaze darkening with something deeper.
“Fuck,” he murmured, his voice low and appreciative. “You’re gorgeous. Look at you.”
Your heart raced at his words, the heat in your cheeks making you feel more alive than you ever. You gave him a shy smile, but he could see through it, he knew exactly how his words were making you feel. He moved toward you, his tall frame casting a shadow over you as his hands gently took you in his arms.
“Let’s go,” he said, his voice steady and warm. You squealed in surprise as he effortlessly swept you off your feet, carrying you toward the hot tub on the balcony. The steam rising from the water mingled with the cool night air, creating a perfect atmosphere that made your pulse race even faster.
He set you down gently, the water soothing against your skin as he stepped in after you, his eyes never leaving yours. There was something magnetic about him, something raw and unspoken. He was powerful, confident, and completely in control, yet there was a kindness in his gaze that made you feel like the only person in the world.
“So, tell me about yourself,” he asked, his voice smooth like velvet. His hand brushed against your back, sending a shiver down your spine as you felt the warmth of his touch.
You took a breath, trying to steady yourself. “Well, I’m new to all of this. I grew up a little sheltered, honestly. But I’m in college now, and I wanted to break out of my shell—experience things for myself.”
Nicholas’ eyes softened with understanding, and he gave you a small nod. “I like that,” he said, his voice deepening. “You’ve got spirit.”
You could feel your heart flutter, and you couldn’t help but laugh a little nervously. “I guess I’m just tired of playing it safe.”
He stepped closer, his breath warm against your ear as he leaned in just enough to make you dizzy. “What if I told you that you don’t have to play it safe anymore?” His hand found your cheek, cupping it gently as he held your gaze. “What if I told you there’s so much more to explore, if you’re willing?”
Your heart was pounding in your chest as you nodded, not trusting your voice for a moment. His words had unlocked something inside you, something that felt like a new beginning.
“What do you have in mind?” you asked, barely above a whisper. You could feel the tension between you two, the chemistry so thick you could almost taste it.
He leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear. “A lot of things. Are you down for anything?”
You could feel your pulse spike, the weight of his question making your stomach flip with excitement. “Yes,” you breathed, your voice barely audible, but the conviction behind it was clear. You were ready. Ready to let go and experience everything that this night had to offer.
Nicholas didn’t need any more encouragement. Slowly, he closed the distance between you, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was slow at first. But then the kiss deepened, his hands sliding to your waist, pulling you closer to him. You responded eagerly, your body moving against his as you got lost in the moment. His mouth was hungry, but gentle, as if savoring every second.
He broke away for a moment, looking down at you with something unreadable in his eyes. He didn’t say anything, but you could feel the heat of his gaze burning into you. “You’re incredible,” he murmured, his fingers gently grazing your skin.
Nicholas was so close now, his body radiating warmth as his hands gently traced the contours of your body, making you feel things you’d never experienced before. His eyes never left yours, and you could feel the raw hunger in his gaze.
“You’re so gorgeous,” he murmured, his lips barely brushing your ear. “Everything about you is perfect.” His fingers slowly moved up, grazing your side, sending a rush of heat straight to your pussy. He paused, then gently tugged at the strings of your bikini top, his eyes darkening as the fabric loosened. “God,” he breathed, looking at you in awe as the top fell away, exposing your tits to him.
You couldn’t stop the flutter in your chest, the way your pulse quickened at his words. You’d never felt more exposed, yet somehow, with him, it felt right. “So juicy,” he whispered, his voice husky as he lowered his head. His lips brushed the soft curve of your breast, and you gasped softly, unable to stop the soft moans that escaped your lips. “Your moans are hot,” he said.
Your body reacted to every touch, every brush of his hands. His touch felt like fire on your skin, leaving you trembling. The sensation of his hands on your body was overwhelming, and when his fingers gently cupped your breast, you couldn’t help but let out another moan, louder this time.
“God, your boobs are amazing,” he muttered, his breath hot against your skin as his lips found yours again in a hungry kiss. You kissed him back with the same fervor, your body pressing closer to his, feeling the heat of his chest against you. His body was solid, strong, and you could feel every inch of him as he held you close.
His hand moved slowly down your body, his fingers grazing the edge of your bikini bottom. He didn’t rush, he was savoring every moment, as if he knew this was all new to you. His hand lingered there, rubbing over pussy through the fabric, making you squirm slightly. The water splashed around you, but it only heightened the lust between you both.
You moaned softly as he rubbed your clothed pussy faster, sending waves of pleasure through you. Your chest rose and fell with each breath, and the way he looked at you, the way he touched you, made you feel like you were the only thing that mattered in that moment.
He pulled back just enough to look at you, his hands still on your body, his eyes full of desire. “You’re so fucking hot,” he said. There was no mistaking the way he felt—he wanted you, just as much as you wanted him.
With a gentle but insistent pull, he guided you closer, your bodies pressed together, the heat from the water mixing with the heat between you. His lips found yours once more, and as you kissed him back, you felt the world narrowing down to just the two of you, two bodies, two souls connecting in the steam and the quiet night.
What do you want, princess?” His voice was thick with desire, his lips lingering near your ear.
You hesitated for a moment, your heart pounding as you thought about what you wanted. “I need to feel more. I need you to make me—make me cum.”
He chuckled softly, his breath warm on your neck. “Good girl,” he murmured, his hand sliding down to your bikini bottom. He was so careful, making sure you were comfortable with every movement. He kissed you again, and this time the kiss was deeper, more urgent, as though he couldn’t wait to explore more of you.
The water splashed lightly around you as you both moved, the sound of your breaths mingling with the soft hum of the jets. His hand moved lower, brushing gently against you. He pulled your strings, easily ripping off your bikini then slipped a finger inside your wetness. You couldn’t help but gasp, the sensation of his fingers inside you unfamiliar yet thrilling.
“I’m a virgin by the way, I should’ve mentioned that earlier.”
“Shit, are you okay, I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he asked, pulling away slightly to look at you. You nodded, your fingers curling into his chest as you pulled him closer.
“Yes, I’m fine,” you whispered, your body reacting instinctively to his finger curling inside you. He slipped another finger inside you, your nails digging into his huge biceps and he took the moment to rub your clit. Your moans and the sound of water splashing was all he could hear.
“Nick— I’m gonna cum,” you whimpered.
“Good girl,” he said, his voice thick with approval. “Cum for me, baby.”
And for the first time in your life, you did. You squirted on his fingers, feeling the tension in your body release as you surrendered to the moment, to him.
“Fucking hell, you look so pretty when you cum, y’know that?” he murmured, brushing your hair from your face.
“Well, it’s the first time I’ve ever done anything like this so, no,” you laughed.
You suddenly realized you were butt ass naked in front of a man for the first time as his eyes raked over your body, drinking you in like you were a sculpture in a museum. Your hands went instinctively to your boobs, covering yourself as he stared too long.
“Oh baby, don’t hide yourself, you’re fucking beautiful,” he murmured, taking your hands and placing it on his bulge. You felt how hard he was, and how big.
Nicholas pulled down his swim trunks, and stepped out of the water in all his glory. The warm water cascaded over his body and all the way down to his cock that was standing at attention. The steam was a paid actor like himself—setting the mood and reflecting the heat between you. He took your hand and helped you out of the hot tub, both of you dripping with arousal and remnants of water.
As you stood there, his towel draped loosely around his waist, you couldn’t help but notice how impossibly broad and strong his frame was. The water glistened off his chest, highlighting his defined muscles, and you felt an involuntary shiver of anticipation.
He stepped closer, his fingers brushing against your skin as he took up a towel and dried you off. You swallowed hard, heart hammering in your chest as his hands lingered just a little longer than necessary, making it hard for you to breathe.
“Come on baby,” he murmured, his voice low and commanding as he led you back toward the bedroom, your pulse quickening with every step. The moment you entered, he closed the door behind you, the weight of his presence filling the room.
Before you could even process what was happening, he pushed you gently onto the bed, your body sinking into the softness of the mattress. The action was quick, but there was nothing hurried about the way he looked at you—there was a quiet intensity in his gaze, like he couldn’t wait to see where this would go.
He stood at the edge of the bed for a moment, watching you as you caught your breath, your body still damp from the hot tub. “You know,” he said, his voice almost a whisper, “you’re absolutely beautiful.” His words sent a wave of heat through you, making you flush as his gaze dropped to your body, his eyes darkening with desire.
You could barely find your voice. “Th-thank you,” you stammered, trying to steady yourself, but the way he was looking at you made it impossible to focus. You weren’t sure if you were nervous or excited, maybe both.
Nicholas moved closer, leaning down until his face was just inches from your glistening pussy. “Can I taste you?” he asked softly, his lips hovering over you.
You nodded, barely able to speak, but your lips parted as he moved in. His mouth moved against your pussy slow at first, tentative almost, as if testing the waters. But as he began licking faster, his hands moved to your waist, pulling you closer to him. You responded by pressing your pussy against him, the heat of his mouth making you dizzy with desire.
“You’re taste so fucking good,” he murmured against your clit, his voice a husky growl. You moaned softly in response, your body already reacting to his tongue all over you. It was the first time anyone had made you feel like this, so exposed and yet so wanted.
Your breath caught in your throat as you gathered the courage to speak. “Shit, daddy, I’m gonna cum,” you whispered.
He smiled, that wicked grin curling at the edges of his lips at the nickname you appointed to him. “Wow, we’ll address that after you cum on my tongue, so go ahead,” he murmured, his voice dripping with approval.
As if your body was waiting for the go ahead, you arched from the bed, your hands immediately gripping his hair as you ground your pussy all over his mouth. You moaned as you squirted and he took the opportunity to slurp every drop of what your pussy had to over.
“Mm— that’s my good girl, you taste like fucking Heaven, sweetheart,” he praised in between his licks.
He moved up to you, his lips glistening with your arousal and you wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing him and relishing in your savory taste. As you did, you could feel his hard cock pressing against you, his pre cum leaking and smearing on you. It felt so good, you wanted to suck his dick but you needed him to fuck you even more.
“So, daddy kink hmm? Just when I thought you couldn’t get any hotter,” Nicholas said, that gorgeous smirk on his face.
You buried your face in his neck, grinding your pussy against his shaft as you let out small whimpers in his ear. You needed that dick, bad.
“You’re so needy sweetheart, what is it, you want my cock?”
You let out a soft ‘mhmm’ still grinding against him as your body shuddered, if you weren’t careful, you knew you’d cum from just doing that.
“Words baby, I need words, do you want daddy to take your virginity?” he asked. When he saw you, he knew he wanted you for a fun night and more, he would’ve never thought a beautiful woman like you was still a virgin and would be up for a night with him. Let’s be real, if a guy like him asked you to come to his room after hours, he was looking to fuck and you, a virgin, knowingly came to his room. Though, he needed to know you were on board.
“Yes, please, I want you to take my virginity, please fuck me,” you whimpered.
He reached to pull out the nightstand drawer and you knew immediately what he was reaching for.
“N-no condom,” you muttered, grabbing his hand, “I’d like to feel all of you for my first time, i-if that’s okay.”
“‘Course baby, anything for you,” he smiled.
He moved back on top of you, stroking his length and spreading the pre cum all over. Looking at how big he was, you wondered how he would fit.
“You sure you want to do this sweetheart? You can still back out if you want to, the decision is all yours,” he said, concern etched on his face.
“I’m sure Nicholas,” you said, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down.
His leaking tip rubbed against your folds, the sound of your wetness filling the hotel room.
“I’m gonna go slow baby but it’s still going to be a bit uncomfortable at first, if it’s gets too painful, all you have to say is stop, yeah?”
You nodded your head and smiled, appreciative of his words, you wouldn’t want to be losing your virginity in any other scenario with anyone else but him.
Slowly, he began easing his cock into you, muttering praises and placing kisses all over your face. Your face contorted from the pain and pleasure and you tried your best to relax so he could move further.
“It’s okay baby, it’s okay, the worst part’s gonna be over soon,” he uttered, before placing a kiss on your lips.
He slowly pushed into you more, peppering kisses and cooing at you. You’d never felt to full, your fingers when you touched yourself didn’t compare to how big he was inside you. Your jaw fell agape as the slight pain finally subsided and you were overcome with pleasure.
“Daddy,” you moaned as he began to move at a steady pace, his cocky repeatedly brushing against your sweet spot.
“There she is, there’s daddy’s girl,” he cooed, placing another kiss on your lips.
His words made your pussy clench and a flutter grew in your heart, this man was doing things to you no man had ever done.
“Faster,” you urged, grinding against him.
He granted your wish, pounding into you faster and making your body jolt upwards. Your moans and the sound of skin slapping filled the room and soon, you felt your approaching orgasm.
“So fucking tight, just clenching around me like that, I know you wanna cum, cum on daddy’s cock baby.”
Your nails dug into his back leaving a trail of fire and he pounded into you just the way you liked it.
“Oh fuck— daddy,” you cried, grabbing him and pulling him flush against you. You shuddered as your orgasm ripped through you, your juices soaking the bed as he pulled out.
As he looked down, there was a bit of blood between your legs and on his cock. He quickly grabbed a towel and cleaned you up then himself, placing a kiss on your thigh.
You glimpsed the blood stained towel and buried your face in your hands.
“I— I’m so sorry, I didn’t know—”
He cut you off with a passionate kiss, cupping your cheeks.
“You don’t need to apologize, it’s natural and normal sweetheart.”
You gave him a small smile and he flipped you on top of him swiftly, making you squeal.
“I know it’s your first time but I need you to ride me baby, need to see those fucking tits bounce and have you on top of me.”
“Anything for you,” you smirked, though nervous.
You lined his awaiting cock with your dripping pussy, rubbing it against you and making it drip down his shaft.
“Fucking hell, you’re amazing,” he moaned, bucking his hips.
Slowly, you sank down onto him, both moaning in unison as your warmth and wetness engulfed each other. It was like fireworks exploded, this was everything you had dreamed of. It was a burning stretch but the pain soon turned into pleasure.
You bounced on his cock and he moved his hips to meet your thrusts.
“Oh God— daddy,” you moaned, feeling him hit a whole new spot inside you, you thought was impossible.
“Yeah? You like that? You like riding daddy’s cock? Fucking say it,” he panted.
“I— I love riding daddy’s cock, fuck me harder,” you moaned.
“Good fucking girl.”
He thrusted up into you, grabbing your boobs and playing with your nipples as he did. Your moans were like music to his ears and soon, he felt the familiar feeling of your pussy fluttering and clenching around him like you didn’t want to let him go.
“Squeezing me so fucking tight baby, cum for daddy, soak daddy’s cock.”
Falling on top of him, your body convulsed and your orgasm overtook you, soaking his length and the sheets below you once more. You knew the housekeepers would complain, they always did when the sheets were covered in bodily fluid, hell, you did too, oh the irony.
“Stay just like that baby, daddy’s gonna pump you full of cum,” he murmured.
Nicholas pinned your hands behind your back, the action unusual but making your head swoon.
“Oh, you like that don’t you?” he asked, fucking up into you hard.
“I love it daddy, faster,” you begged.
“As you wish.” His cock began slamming into you faster and soon, you felt the unmistakable feeling of something warm, filling you to the brim.
“That feels so good,” you moaned, grinding against him.
“I know baby, take daddy’s cum, take it in that tight fucking pussy.”
He slowly thrusted into you before he pulled out, the feeling leaving you empty yet fulfilled.
You laid there, tangled in each other, feeling the rise and fall of each other’s chests.
“Did you enjoy yourself beautiful?,” he asked, as you leaned up to look at him.
“More than I could ever imagine.”
He smiled and gave you a kiss on the lips before making his way to the bathroom and coming back with a warm cloth. He cleaned you up, littering kisses as he did.
“You’re so beautiful, I’m so lucky,” he muttered. His words made your heart flutter, would this be a regular occurrence?
“I think I’m lucky too,” you laughed, “a famous actor just took my virginity.”
“And I’d like to take it all over again in the morning, will you stay the night?” he inquired, tossing the cloth on the couch.
“I don’t think I can, I already broke a rule sleeping with a guest but literally sleeping over in a guest’s room? I’d get fired and it’s my first job I—“
He cut you off with a finger over your lips. “Shh, forget who I am? I’ll pull some strings, and even if you do get fired, I’ll easily take care of you.”
You buried your face in his firm chest and he fell onto the bed beside you. The romantic night went on with you tangled in each other’s arms and Nicholas littering kisses all over your face. Who knew being a housekeeper would score you such a big tip.
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ganggangscenarios · 3 days ago
Text
No Such Thing | Ch 10
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Pairing: Jungkook x Reader
Summary: After a messy breakup and an even messier night out , you find an unlikely friend in your coworker’s ex boyfriend. A messy beginning and an even messier middle, who knows about the end.
Genre: Romance, comedy, smut (later chapters)
Warning: This chapter contains intense scenes of violence, injury, and emotional distress. Reader discretion is advised.
01 | 02| 03| 04| 05| 06 |07| 08 | 09| 10
Drabbles:
I can & I will
Disconnect
The silence in the room thickens as Jungkook locks eyes with Mark. The knife gleams in Mark's hand, the light reflecting off the blade like a cruel reminder of how far this situation has escalated. Jungkook’s heart pounds in his chest, his every muscle coiled, ready for whatever Mark is about to do.
“Mark,” Jungkook says, his voice low and steady, despite the adrenaline rushing through him. “This isn’t you. Let her go.”
Mark's lips curl into a mocking smile, the knife still gripped tightly. “You think I’m doing this for me? I’m doing this for us.” He gestures between the two of them, eyes flicking to you, then back to Jungkook. “She’s carrying my child, Jungkook. You think you can just walk in here and take her away like it’s nothing? You don’t know what you’re dealing with.”
Jungkook's hands tighten into fists at his sides. He’s seen Mark angry before, but this is different—this isn’t just anger. There’s something deeper, something desperate, and that scares him more than the knife. Mark’s grief, his obsession—it’s consuming him.
“I don’t care what you think you’re doing,” Jungkook growls, his eyes never leaving Mark’s. “You’ve already crossed the line. Let her go, or I’ll make you.”
Mark’s expression falters for a split second, a flicker of doubt crossing his face, but it’s quickly replaced by a cold, calculated resolve. He steps forward, closing the distance, the knife now aimed toward Jungkook, the tip dangerously close to his chest. “You don’t get to tell me what to do. Not anymore.”
The air between them crackles with tension. Jungkook doesn’t flinch. His body is still, but his mind is racing, calculating the distance, the speed, the moves he needs to make to protect you.
“Mark, listen to me.” Jungkook takes a slow step forward, his voice soft but firm, trying to reach whatever sanity is left in him. “This isn’t the way. I’m not here to fight you. But if you keep pushing, if you keep doing this… I’ll have no choice but to make you.”
Mark’s eyes flicker—there’s hesitation, just a second of it. His grip on the knife falters. It’s enough.
In that split second, Jungkook moves.
He grabs Mark’s wrist with a force he didn’t know he had, twisting it just enough to make the knife drop to the floor with a clatter. Before Mark can react, Jungkook pushes him back, his body slamming into the wall with a thud. The shock in Mark’s eyes is almost too much to bear, but Jungkook doesn’t stop.
“Stay the hell away from her,” he spits, his voice a growl, his chest heaving with rage. He takes a step back, ensuring Mark is down for the moment, his hand still gripping the front of his shirt.
You watch, breath caught in your throat, heart racing. Mark, who was once so close to you, so familiar, now seems like a stranger—a broken man, consumed by something darker than you could’ve ever imagined.
Jungkook turns to you, his face softening as his gaze lands on you. “Are you okay?” His voice is gentler now, but the raw intensity of his presence doesn’t waver.
You nod, your eyes filling with tears. “I’m fine now. You came for me… you actually came.”
Jungkook reaches for you, his hands trembling as he pulls you into his arms, his warmth surrounding you like a shield. You cling to him, feeling safe for the first time in what feels like forever.
Mark is still on the floor, dazed, but his presence is no longer a threat. For now, the fight is over. The tension has broken, but the weight of what’s just happened presses down on all of you.
“I’m taking you home,” Jungkook murmurs against your hair, his voice thick with emotion. “You’re not going anywhere with him, ever again.”
You nod against his chest, relief flooding through you, but the fear doesn’t quite leave. Not yet. You glance back at Mark, who is still on the floor, rage and confusion swirling in his eyes. But for now, all that matters is that you’re safe. You’re free.
As Jungkook leads you toward the door, Mark’s voice rasps behind you, a broken whisper. “You think you’ve won? You think I’ll just let her go?”
Jungkook doesn’t turn back. He pulls you out of the apartment, the door slamming shut behind you. You’re not looking back anymore. You don’t need to.
Mark’s eyes gleam with madness, his hand gripping the knife as he lunges forward, rage propelling him. Before you can even react, Jungkook steps into the line of fire, placing himself between you and the blade.
“No!” you scream, but the words feel hollow in the air.
Jungkook’s body slams into Mark’s with a force that sends them both stumbling. The knife swings dangerously close to Jungkook’s side as he twists, trying to wrestle it away. He barely avoids the blade, but Mark’s erratic movements push him backward. In a desperate bid for control, Mark drives the knife toward Jungkook’s stomach.
The flash of steel cuts through the space between them, and with a sickening gasp, Jungkook’s face contorts in pain. His body stiffens as the blade makes contact, slicing through his side. Blood stains his shirt, and for a second, everything goes silent.
“Jungkook!” you cry out, your heart stopping as you watch him stagger, his hand clutching his side, the pain etched into his features.
He stumbles back, his knees buckling, but he keeps himself upright. His eyes lock on you, a faint smile fighting its way through the pain.
“I’m... fine,” Jungkook grits out, but the blood seeping through his fingers betrays his words. He doesn’t have the strength to hide it.
Mark watches the scene unfold, his face twisting into something darker—more triumphant. He steps toward Jungkook, the knife still in his hand, his breathing shallow but filled with satisfaction.
“You’re not leaving with her,” Mark spits, his voice venomous. He takes a step closer to Jungkook, but this time, Jungkook doesn’t back down.
The room spins for you as you watch Jungkook’s blood stain the floor beneath him. A wave of panic rises in your chest, but you know you have to act. Your body moves before your mind can catch up, running toward Mark, ready to do whatever it takes to stop him from harming Jungkook further.
But before you can reach him, Mark raises the knife again, his eyes fixed on Jungkook. In that instant, everything seems to slow down.
Jungkook’s breath hitches, his eyes wide with the realization that Mark is coming in for another strike. His body is shaking, not just from the pain but from the sheer force of his struggle to stay standing.
“Get away from him!” you scream, launching yourself toward Mark, hands reaching for anything you can use to protect him.
The sharp sound of the blade slicing through the air fills the room just as your fingers graze the handle of a chair nearby. You grab it with everything you have and swing it in Mark’s direction. The impact is enough to knock him off balance, but it’s only a momentary distraction.
Jungkook gasps, his body sinking to the floor as he tries to steady himself. His hand presses harder against the wound, but it’s clear he’s losing the battle. Blood pours from the cut, staining the carpet, and his vision starts to blur.
“No, no, no...” you whisper, tears welling up in your eyes as you kneel beside him. You try to keep him upright, but the weight of his injury is too much.
Mark regains his footing, a wicked smile curling on his lips as he watches the scene unfold. He raises the knife one more time.
“I’m not done yet,” he growls, advancing on you both.
You can barely breathe as you try to think of something—anything—to stop him. The air is thick with fear, the tension suffocating.
Jungkook’s breath comes in short, painful gasps, his hand still clutching his side. “Run,” he whispers, his voice barely audible. “Please... run.”
Before you can react, Mark lunges forward, the knife poised to strike.
Then, in a blur, the door to the apartment slams open with a deafening crash.
Someone’s footsteps echo in the hallway.
Everything comes to a halt.
Mark freezes.
You turn, heart hammering in your chest, desperate for help—but who could it be? Who’s coming to save you now?
Jungkook’s hand slips from his wound, his vision fading as he struggles to stay conscious. He collapses into your arms, his body heavy against you.
You don’t know who’s at the door—but you don’t care. You know the moment you hear those footsteps, the story is far from over.
———
Jungkook’s head lulls against your chest as you hold him, his breathing shallow, uneven. Your heart races with a panic you can't seem to shake. Blood stains your hands, your arms, and you're terrified it might be too late. The weight of his limp body is unbearable, and all you can do is hold on, pray that he can hang on too.
You look up at Mark, who’s still reeling from the confrontation, his chest rising and falling in heavy breaths. He’s on the floor now, but there’s no hint of surrender in his eyes. He’s seething, clawing his way up, but this time, he doesn’t reach for the knife. Instead, he just glares, still bent on whatever twisted delusion he’s clinging to.
“You think this is over?” Mark sneers, his eyes darting between you and Jungkook. “She’ll always be mine. You can’t have her.”
You don’t even have the energy to respond, your attention solely on the man in your arms. Your fingers tremble as you try to steady his breathing. “Jungkook, please, stay with me... I need you. Please, don’t leave me now.”
Suddenly, the sound of rapid footsteps echoes through the hallway, followed by a sharp knock on the door. Mark’s head snaps toward it, his expression shifting from anger to something darker. He doesn't make a move to stop whoever’s coming, but you can feel the tension building.
The door slams open, and in steps Hyejin.
For a moment, everything stands still. Her eyes lock onto you, then to Jungkook, her gaze darting between the two of you as if trying to understand what’s happening. She’s breathless, her face flushed from running, but there’s no fear in her eyes, only a cold, calculating determination.
“What the hell happened?” Hyejin’s voice is sharp, demanding, but it’s laced with genuine concern as she steps further into the apartment.
Mark’s face twists with frustration and disbelief. “Hyejin, stay out of this.”
But Hyejin doesn’t flinch. She steps past him without a second glance, crouching down beside you and Jungkook, her eyes scanning his injury with trained precision. “What happened? He’s bleeding out. We need to get him help now.”
Your heart lurches in your chest. “I—he’s been stabbed. I don’t know what to do—he’s losing so much blood.”
Hyejin doesn’t waste a second. She quickly presses her hand against the wound, applying pressure to stem the bleeding. Her touch is firm but quick, and you can feel her steadying influence wash over you as she works with practiced hands. But her eyes never leave Jungkook’s face.
“Stay with me, Jungkook. You’re okay, we’re getting you out of here.” Her voice is calm, controlled, but there’s an edge to it—something raw that snaps at you.
Your breath catches in your throat as you watch Jungkook’s pale face, his eyes fluttering. He’s barely holding on, and you feel a wave of helplessness crash over you. “Please, please, don’t leave me... not like this.” You whisper, your voice breaking.
Mark sneers from the side, his lips curling in anger. “You think you can fix him? He’s already dead. You won’t save him.”
Hyejin doesn’t even look at him. “Shut up, Mark.” Her voice is cold, unflinching. She continues to apply pressure to the wound, her eyes flicking between you and Jungkook. “We’re getting him out of here. The cops and help are on the way.”
Mark moves, his hands balling into fists, and for a moment, you think he might try something, but Hyejin stands up quickly, blocking him with her body, her posture rigid with authority. “Don’t. If you want to leave here alive, you’ll stay out of it.”
The door is open, and you hear the distant sound of sirens, the faint promise of rescue. But it's still too far away.
“Stay with me, Jungkook,” you whisper again, your hand clutching his weakly in yours. His pulse is slow, irregular, and every second feels like it’s slipping away. You glance at Hyejin desperately. “Please... Please save him.”
Hyejin nods, her expression hardening with determination. “I’m not letting him die. Help is on the way.” She looks over her shoulder, her gaze flicking toward Mark one last time. “You’re done here. Go. Leave before I make you.”
Mark hesitates for a moment, glaring at her, then at you, before finally sneering in disgust. “This isn’t over. You can’t keep her.” His voice drips with venom, but he knows he’s beaten for now.
Without another word, Mark turns and storms out, the door slamming shut behind him.
As the silence settles in, you breathe in deeply, allowing the air to fill your lungs. But the reality of the situation weighs heavy, and you know that this battle isn’t over. Not by a long shot. Jungkook’s life hangs in the balance, and you’re not sure you can handle losing him again.
But as Hyejin presses on the wound, and the distant sirens grow louder, you hold on to one fragile hope.
_____________
I apologise for the delay and the shortness of this chapter :(
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bekolxeram · 1 day ago
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Everyone decides to be sad about Tommy spending the holidays alone today. I just want to say, I hate you all. Especially @mmso-notlikethat with this post. As payback for making me cry my way into insomnia, I wrote this on my phone instead of sleeping.
By the time he knocks on the door, Tommy still has no idea what to expect. “Wear something nice, we’re celebrating tonight,” that’s the only instruction he’s received from Evan, his boyfriend once again. Tommy can’t help but smile at the mere thought of finally allowing himself to say that name.
He has a burgundy dress shirt on with a pair of light grey slim fit pants. Simple, but elegant, hopefully properly dressed for this undisclosed commemoration. March is not known for its holidays, so what’s the occasion that calls for such festivity? They did meet last March at the cruise ship rescue, maybe that was it? Or perhaps Evan is having some sort of career advancement? They’ve been back together for just a few weeks, there’s simply not enough time for Tommy to catch up on Evan’s ever so eventful life. To that, Tommy silently mourn the time they’ve lost, due to his own cowardice.
“Hey — Hey,” Evan takes a step outside of the door to greet Tommy with a quick peck on the lips. Tommy lets the younger man drag him into the loft without much reaction, because he’s still confused by the sight in front of him: Evan in his usual navy blue button up, dark jeans and… a Christmas hat?
Inside the loft is a jumble of sparkly festive decorations. To his left, he sees “Happy Birthday Tommy”; to his right, “Merry Christmas”; and deeper into the living space, “Happy New Year”.
“Jee and Mara helped setting these up,” Evan says while taking half of a roast turkey out of the oven. “This one is from Bobby. He said half a bird is enough for the two of us, if we don’t want to suffer through leftover for the next 7 days.” He then sets the tray next to some roasted vegetables and a casserole. “The casserole is from Chimney, but I’m pretty sure it’s Maddie’s recipe. Hen got you a cake. I think she said something about being sure you would like it. We can have it for dessert. Oh, and the champagne is from…”
“Eddie, because he can’t cook.” Tommy cuts in.
“Exactly!”
“Evan, what’s going on here?”
Evan steps closer, taking both of Tommy’s hands into his own, “You told me the other day that you spent your 40th birthday alone… I only realized later that you were probably on your own for the entire holiday season, Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year, Valentine’s Day. I know it doesn’t come close to the real thing, but I was thinking maybe we could make up for a few key moments that we missed.” He dims the lights in the loft with a remote control and fiddles with something on the dining table. Suddenly, the whole room is lit up with colorful patterns and twinkling stars. “I couldn’t get any firework around here, so I borrowed this star projector from Christopher.”
“Oh… Evan,” Tommy sighs, eyes already hazy with tears.
“I’m not asking you to move in with me or to make major commitments. I’m not asking for anything in return at all. This is… a promise, from me to you. No matter what happens, what becomes of us in the future, I’ll be there when you need me, we all will.”
Evan says earnestly, with utmost conviction in his tone. The clarity in his eyes reminds Tommy of that day at the café terrace, almost a year ago. “I just want you to know, Tommy, you’re no longer alone.”
A few drops of tears escape Tommy’s eyes, but before he can respond, Evan pulls out a mistletoe from his pocket and dangles it over their heads.
“You have to kiss me now.” Evan says with a cheeky grin. Tommy waits no time to capture those smiling lips with his own, kissing him with all the love and gratitude in his heart.
“I love you, Evan. I’m so lucky to have you.” Tommy pulls him into a warm embrace.
“I love you too.” Now it’s Evan’s turn to tear up.
Tommy pulls back a little and asks, “hey, would you mind if we celebrate Valentine’s Day first?”
“Oh, you mean you’re interested in the Valentine’s Night activity?”
“Depends on what you have in mind.”
“Come upstairs. I’ll show you.”
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yan-lorkai · 3 days ago
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.⁠。⁠*⁠♡ Tagging: @kurtswld
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"Human nature is something fickle," The words left Chrollo’s mouth, and they weren't pretty and charming as he always presented them. He was far too pissed off to care how he was presenting himself to you. Right here and now, he wasn't a gentleman, a well-mannered man who liked to read and discuss.
Looking at him now, he was the Phantom Troupe's leader. A killer and a monster. Your heart was beating louder at each step he took in your direction. It was a dangerous symphony, a requiem you weren't fond of. Yet, he seemed amused, fond of it, even.
"They lie, betray and kill," He kneeled in front of you, and while you tried to put distance between both of you, trying to crawl away, Chrollo pulled you back to him by your neck, his nails digging into your soft skin, making you whimper. 'You did all three of them in the span of two hours, darling. You lied to me,"
He chuckled. You weren't sure what he thought that was funny. You didn't want to know, you were far too afraid to move or talk to even think about what would he consider fun. Chrollo is a strange man, always were, always will be.
No... not man.
He was something else. Him and his little family. All murderers, all bad people.
He caressed your face in a tender way. The same way he used to when he first fell for you; the tears started to fall from your eyes at that. Whether it was because you really thought you could have escaped him or because you didn't want to know what he was going to do to you now.
"You betrayed my trust in you," He muttered, nuzzling his face against your neck, his hand still holding it, depriving you of breathing as he exhaled. "You betrayed my troupe's trust. And trust is something important for us. We have our backs, we're family, and when you lied to me, you lied to them."
"I didn't kill anyone..." You struggled to say, your last defiance slowly disappearing as you held onto his hand, trying to escape his grip, but it was impossible. "I'm... not like you."
Chrollo’s grip tightened slightly, his lips brushing against your ear as he let out a low chuckle. "Oh, my dear," he murmured, his voice dangerously soft. "Not like me? Perhaps you think you're better, untainted. But isn’t it fascinating how far desperation can push someone? How quickly survival overrides morality?"
You flinched, the weight of his words pressing down on you like an iron cage. He pulled back just enough to look into your tear-streaked face, his thumb stroking your jaw in a mockery of comfort. "You may not have killed anyone," he continued, "but your actions led to consequences. If you understand what I'm saying."
You shook your head weakly, choking on your own breath. "I didn’t mean for this to happen," you whispered, your voice barely audible.
"But it did," Chrollo said sharply, his tone cutting through you like a blade. "And now, here we are. You thought you could run, thought you could escape me. Did you really believe I’d let you go so easily?"
His hand slid from your neck to your chin, tilting your face up so you couldn’t avoid his piercing gaze. "You’re mine," he said firmly, like a promise and a threat, his dark eyes gleaming with a possessive intensity that made your stomach churn. "You’ve always been mine, and no amount of running or lying will change that."
The air between you was suffocating, and despite your trembling, you mustered the courage to whisper, "What are you going to do to me?"
Chrollo smiled then, soft and almost kind, but it didn’t reach his eyes. His mask was back on his face. "What I’m going to do, my darling, is ensure you never feel the need to run from me again."
He leaned closer, pressing a kiss to your forehead as though to seal his promise. "I’ll remind you of your place, remind you of the bond we share. And by the time I’m done, you won’t dream of leaving me again. You’ll know where you belong."
The cold finality in his voice sent a shiver down your spine. As he pulled you into his arms, cradling you like a precious possession, you realized there was no escaping Chrollo Lucilfer — not now, not ever.
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izzy02soph · 20 hours ago
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Heart of the arena
Just a little something I put together after seeing a TikTok
GIFs made by me 😌👀
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In ancient Rome, the emperor's daughter, secretly in in love with the barbarian gladiator, Hanno (but she knows him as Lucius). Despite their forbidden love, they meet in secret, not just to be together, but to plot against her tyrannical father. Their hidden romance fuels their rebellion, as they dream of a future free from his oppressive rule.
______
Y/N slipped quietly into Lucius cell, her heart heavy with the weight of their secret. The dim light cast shadows over his weary face, where he sits on his cot. His eyes, though tired, softened when they met hers.
"Lucius, we can't keep meeting like this. It's tearing me apart to see you in cell. We must overthrow my father. If we succeed, we can finally be together, and you’ll be a free man"
"Your father is a tyrant, Y/N. Overthrowing him is a near-impossible task. I would face any danger, even if it means losing myself in the process. But I don’t think I can bear losing you too" He rubbed his hand up and down his face, the weariness evident in his movements
Y/n sighed before walking over and getting down on her knees in front of Lucius, grabbing his hands in the process
"It's not just about us, Lucius. Rome is crumbling under his tyranny. We need to save our people, just like your father Maximus did all those years ago. We owe it to him, and to ourselves."
"Maximus fought for justice and for Rome. I want to fight for us. It would and will be dangerous Y/N." Lucius said slightly raising his voice
“I would rather face danger with you than live a life of safety without you. Together, we can bring hope back to Rome. We have to try, even if it means risking everything.”
Lucius took her hand, his grip strong but trembling with the weight of their shared burden.
"Then we fight. For Rome, for us, and for our future, where we can be together. We will succeed where Maximus could not. We will bring down your father and restore peace to our land."
“For you, I would defy the emperor”
Y/n looked at Lucius, tears pooling in her eyes, not out of sadness but out of the pure sheer devotion she had for Lucius.
Their hearts aching with the knowledge of the path ahead, but also burning with the fierce determination of their love and the hope for a brighter future for both their love and their beloved Rome.
______
Okkkkkkk How was it?? I know it was kind of repetitive but I’m trying to learn how to write this kind of stuff, but I hope y’all liked it? Luv y’all baddies 🩷
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flowerofbenevolence · 1 day ago
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They ask you back but you're a Mean Girl! Reader!
TW: Insults, bullying, the reader is a savage mean girl/bully. NO OFFENSE INTENDED!
Riddle:
The moment you heard Riddle say that he wanted you back, you couldn’t help yourself as you burst out laughing, ultimately drawing the attention of everyone in the room.
“Seriously, Riddle? You think I’d want a pathetic mama’s boy like you? It’s honestly hilarious watching you crawl back to me like some lowly bug after dumping me for the same stupid reason you overblotted and taking SO damn long to figure it out. I need a real man, not some loser with mommy issues.”
Riddle gasped the moment you said those things and his eyes filled with tears.
"Y/N!"
”Aw, you gonna cry now, baby? Ha. Typical. Just like how you did after you overblotted. And honesty, I probably should have just left you to die, or stay traumatized forever. Cause you never learn, now, do you? Which is quite ironic considering the fact that you’re my upperclassman as well as a top student. And you know? I think I’ma try dating Floyd.”
Just then, Floyd, your new boyfriend who you had just gotten together with a couple days ago walked in and gave you a kiss the moment he saw you.
“You know, Riddle? If I were you, I would really try to get out of this really embarrassing situation. So why don’t you-“
You didn’t even have to finish. The Heartslabyul Housewarden was already speeding walking out the door, only to be tripped by Ace sticking out his foot.
“Oh, would you look at that? The tiny tyrant can’t even walk!” He drawled, with Deuce right beside, also dying of laughter.
Riddle didn’t even bother collaring them.
Leona:
it had been a couple weeks since you and Leona broke up, and within that time, it was discovered that the princess decided to break off their engagement since she didn’t want Leona anymore. Leona, on this, was overjoyed, since it now meant he could come back to you and start your relationship again.
You gasped in mock hurt, “are you sure you’re a prince? Cause that’s so rude!”
“Eh? What is?” He asked, tilting his head to the side in confusion.
“That you would think I’m so pathetic as to want an idiot so stupid that he sulks about being a second-born prince all day but dumps the one chance he had to be loved for what? To become a political pawn? If I had known you would be this stupid, I would have let that silly princess have you, but then again, I guess she is kinda smart, considering how she abandoned you,” you said, eyeing him up and down with contempt.
Leona gaped at your words, shocked and hurt. Never in a million years would he have thought you, someone who was always so kind to him, would be capable of such cruelty. He clutched his heart, closing his mouth and opening it again like a fish.
"Woah hon hon, trickster!" a certain blonde hunter by the name of Rook Hunt, who was also your new boyfriend jeered as he walked up to you and wrapped his arms around your waist, "looks like you've made the Roi de Leon lose his roar! How amusing!"
"Ah, Rookie, baby! Aren't I just SO full of surprises? Told you I'd be a huntress worthy of you!" You gushed as you gave him a kiss on the cheek.
"Indeed you are," Leona growled, already storming away while using a hand to cover his face so that no one saw his teary eyes.
You were right. He was an idiot. He was an idiot undeserving of you. He was an idiot to have left you. But most of all, he was an idiot to have come back to you, thinking you would want him again. And now, he definitely felt like one. Especially after how you made one out of him in front of everyone.
Idia:
"Are you two telling me," you sneered with a tight smile and a twitching eye, "that not only did you dump me that day, but also lied about the reason as well?"
"W-well," Ortho began, stuttering, "when you put it like that-"
"Y/N, I was trying to protect you. You know how powerful STYX is, and what they'd do if they found out I was dating a magicless human, and I-"
"Don't want to see me get hurt? Wow. You sure are dumb, huh? I mean, don't get me wrong. I appreciate that part, but if you'd known even a single damn thing about me, you'd have known that I would have eagerly let you go if you had told the truth form the beginning. In fact, it's really quite an insult that you'd think I'm dumb enough to value my love and relationship with you over my own safety. And to be honest, if I had known you were going to be this offensive with your mere offer to get back together, maybe getting together with you in the first place was a mistake. I'm honestly starting to see why everyone hates you and wanted to leave you to die at the hands of Ghost Bride."
"O-oh . . . okay . . ." Idia said trembling, already turning to go, "S-sorry I bothered you, Y/N . . ."
"Big Sister!" Ortho cried, "Why'd you gotta be so mean!? I know what my brother did was a jerk move, but-"
"Aw, look. The dumbass robot who's supposed to imitate a ten-year-old baby is desperately tryna defend his big bro knowing the crap he put me through. You really do worship your brother like he's a Greek God, eh? How entertaining, like how the myths are!" You cackled.
Ortho was about to punch you when Idia placed a hand on his shoulder, "leave her, Ortho. She's right. I really am a mistake."
"B-but Big Brother!"
"Let's go!" Idia yanked him along. He didn't want you to see him cry. Didn't want to hear your evil insults anymore. Didn't want to be heartbroken and humiliated any further.
"Hey! Be grateful I was kind enough to pull you aside and respect your privacy. If anything, you would've been the laughingstock of the school by now, not saying you aren't one already."
At this rate Idia was running. Running away from you, and back to his dorm. Once alone and quiet, he let himself bawl. You were right. He really didn't know anything about you. Because if he did, he would have already known you could be so mean. Because if he did, he would never have dared to approach you and ask for your love again.
Malleus (and Lilia):
(To be honest guys, I REALLY hated the way Lilia treated Y/N during Malleus' part, so I'm going to be mean to him too! >:D)
Life had been a living hell for Silver these days. How could it not be? You had been spreading malicious gossip about him, pulling the most humiliating of pranks, and spitting out the cruelest, most pride-crushing insults ever at him. And behind that cool, collected exterior he put on for the sake of his father and master, also because you blackmailed him, he was breaking behind it all.
Speaking of his father and master, it had recently been decided that Malleus wouldn't be betrothed to that stupid fairy noblewoman after all. Of course, Malleus was ecstatic, and Lilia was fine, since Malleus could be happy without political complications, and thus both immediately ran to Ramshackle dorm to tell you the good news . . . only to see you pouring cold milk over Silver's head while surrounded by a group of laughing freshmen.
"Y/N! What in Twisted Wonderland is the meaning of this!?" Lilia exclaimed, rushing to his son.
You smirked. "Well, Lilia, since you and Whore-ton were SO rude to me that day when you guys dumped me, I've decided to have a little revenge. But of course, since bullying you and him would be SO boring and predictable, I decided to take my anger out on your son and vassal, instead."
"What!? How dare you!? Y/N, I'll have you know that Malleus is a prince, and him breaking up with you was a necessary action to ensure the stability of the court of Briar Valley!"
"Indeed, Y/N," Malleus voiced angrily, "also, I have recently been informed that due to certain circumstances, my engagement was broken off. Me and Lilia came here to tell you that we can be reunited. However, I can't love you again if you're going to act like this."
"Pfft, stupid idiots," you spat in distaste as you rolled your eyes (and flipped your hair, if you have long hair), "seriously? You two STILL don't get it? And you honestly still think I'd want you? After so rudely humiliating me that day by forgetting I'm a commoner who doesn't always understand politics and yelling at me, and then gaslighting me by telling me I'm being emotional when really, if you two had just given me some time to collect myself and leave, you think I would still be nice to you and your dormmates? If I had known you two would be so audacious and entitled, I probably would have harassed Sebek as well. Ha! Speaking of forgetfulness, I'll also remind you that while you're the future king of the Briar Valley of Thorns, you're also a feared, friendless monster without me."
Malleus stared at you, mouth agape and stretching his ears to ensure that he heard you right. You had been the kindest person he had ever known, never in a million years would he have imagined you to also be the cruelest. Tears began to form in his eyes as soon as he realized that such terrible words had indeed come out of your mouth.
"Ha, don't tell me you also forgot that I don't fear you. After all, if I wasn't afraid to love you, wouldn't I also be unafraid to hate you, as well?"
"Now, Y/N," Lilia began, almost condescendingly, "you're seriously so angry just because of that? I expected you to be angry about the fact that Malleus dumped you, but you're angry about the way he dumped you!? How petty can you be!?"
"P-please, father," Silver suddenly said, trembling, "Sh-she's a monster. P-please, j-just appease her. I can't endure th-this h-humiliation any further," he sobbed.
"Oh, my son . . . " Lilia murmured.
"Fine," Malleus said coldly, wiping away his own tears, "Y/N, we're sorry for offending you. Now, cease your harassment towards my knight at once."
"Tsk. That's your best apology? I've seen better repentance from pigs. Kneel down on the dirt and beg for my mercy." You commanded.
"Yeah!" Epel shouted, "kneel before the queen bee!"
And with that, all the freshmen began chanting,
"KNEEL BEFORE THE QUEEN BEE!"
"KNEEL BEFORE THE QUEEN BEE!"
"KNEEL BEFORE THE QUEEN BEE!"
"FINE!" Malleus roared, getting down until his forehead touched the grass, his ass facing the sky, and in the most polite tone he could manage, began saying "your most noble majesty, please have mercy on our offenses of speaking insolently in your presence, and with our mere offer to reunite,"
"Ahahaha!" You cackled, "that's a good dog. Now get out of my sight!" You bellowed as you kicked Malleus' head, right between his horns.
Malleus immediately scrambled to his feet, and with Lilia and Silver, furiously stormed back to Diasomnia. And by stormed back, it was literal, since storm clouds began to cloud the sky.
Once in his room, Malleus finally let himself bawl - and rage. He had just made his first - and last friend, and turned her into an enemy. He had just had his first love, someone he envisioned as his queen - only for her to turn out to be a Queen of Mean.
Author's Note: When I was reading the original fanfic, I could barely imagine myself being nice to any of the boys. So, I created this fic. I was not made to offend anyone. You are a kind and awesome individual!"
When he break up with you (riddle/leona/idia/ malleus X Mc)
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Riddle rosehearts
• You left everything in your hand when you knew riddle called for you, you know...he's more important than anything, you made your way to the dorms as you expected him waiting for you, what could it be? Did he tell his mother about you? Or he's inviting you for a tea party and prepared some cake for you? Soon you will know....
• You knocked the door before getting in, on hearing "come in" you opened the door and walked in with a wide smile, "riddle, you called for me?" You asked with a joyful smile waitng for him to answer, his face had a mixed expression of sadness and worrying, "yes, please take a seat" he pointed to where you can sit and he sat by you not even making an eye contact with you which made you even worried.
• "I told you I'm going to tell mother about you that's right?" Riddle's eyes rised from the ground to your face then, "yes....did she accept the fact I'm being your gf?" You said with a worried smile, he lowered his gazes before he spoke again "no.....she didn't"
• You took riddle's hand into yours still smiling as you spoke " it's ok riddle, she will change her mind, I'm sure!" You tried to look him in face only to see a bitter expression on his face, "she won't and I'm afraid..." he pulled his hands from yours as your heart sink preparing yourself to the worse..
• "We have to break up"
• Time has stopped when you heard those words out of his mouth, he's not saying this is he? You laugh as you couldn't believe this, "are you joking? You're leaving me? Haven't you said you will stay by my side no matter what they said? ANSWER ME!!" you couldn't help it but screamed at him at the end of your words unable to hold your tears anymore.
• "I have no choice...I'm sorry"
• On hearing his words you couldn't handle it anymore, you ran out of the room slamming the door by you, riddle's eyes began to tear, it's harder on him more than you, he was angiry and all against it.....but he has no choice.
• Weeks passed and you were a crying mess, not even attending any lessons or talking to anyone, but in the last few days you began to come back again but this time with a brighter smile than ever, riddle decided to ditch everything and all orders he took to not talk to you anymore and decided to talk to you.
• "(Y/n) i was thinking....i don't want to listen to her orders again....i want to be with you!" Riddle was all determined talking to you, you gave him a smile preparing to speak again but that's when kalim dashed towards you giving you a big hug.
• "Finally found you! Come on, jamil has prepared lunch for us and then we will go in a trip on the magic carpet" kalim held your arm dragging you with him away from riddle before you even speak, he held his arm in sadness as all he could think about was your bright smile when you were with someone else,someone isn't him.....
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Leona kingscholar
• "Come again?" You're not sure if you didn't hear him well or he's joking or what is it anymore, is he seriously saying he wants to break up with you or this is one of his jokes...
• "Again, we have to break up" Leona sigh before pushing those heavy words from his mouth, he couldn't handle saying it once so you made him say it twice now,"and that's for?" You tried your best not to seem hurt as you rised an eyebrow questioning.
• "They arranged a marriage to me, they want me to marry a silly princess from a nearby kingdom to make an alliance with this kingdom that's it" leona closed his eyes as he tried his best not to get mad while speaking about them.
• "And you agreed?" You crossed your arms on your chest not liking what you just heard, " they are driving me mad and farena doesn't stop talking about this....they even want me to get engaged with her next holiday!" Leona hide his face with one hand as he spoke.
• "And since when you listen to anyone? Especially farena?" This time you began to get mad , you admit you even wanted to slap him!, "you don't understand anything"
• "Fine...and i don't want to understand, if breaking up is that what you want then you got it...i wish you happiness with someone else!" As stubborn he is you were also stubborn doing your best hiding your feelings..the daggers were staping you in your heart, once you closed the door and took some far steps from his room you begain crying and wailing, you think he didn't hear that? He did and it broke every inch of his loving heart to you, he squeezed his eyes shut, headache was already getting the best of him but breaking your heart was worse than headache.
• That was rough two months on the both of you, him being moody and getting mad at anyone and you for not trusting anyone anymore and not event talking with others, you just decided to keep your feelings for yourself but things can change sometimes.
• Leona saw you more active and all fresh new, did you forget about him that quickly? He moved by your direction as you were in the hall, you were speaking with someone else and laughing it was like you're finally back happy, leona take a hide as he moved closer but he was torn to see that you're talking to lilia! The vice of that lizard?! Why him!? He decided he's going to talk to you about that as he stopped you for a talk.
• "Can i talk to you alone?" It was more like a command not a request, you looked at lilia asking and he nodded and left you alone with a wide smile, "well actually i didn't expect you after being the girlfriend of a prince to become a friend with the lizard's servant I'm impressed!" Liona rised an eyebrow to you as he spoke in a sarcastic tone holding your arm into his grib which you of course didn't like...
• " well i prefer to be with a servant that truly loves me than to be with a prince that threw me away only because he was ordered to! Unfortunately....i thought myself valuable for you....." pulling your hand from his grib you walked away to catch with lilia who was watching over you from afar leaving leona hurt alone standing in the hall...
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Idia shroud
• "(Y/n)! You have to decide now, it's either you stay with me forever or go back to your world!" It was the first time idia seem that serious with you, it's not like you're going to your home now since no one found you a way yet so you decided to laugh it off with idia, "idia what do you mean? I'm always here for you!"
• "Not forever! One day you will leave me! And i will go back to be alone again, if you're going to leave then we have to break up right now!" Idia gave you his back as he spoke out, it was the first time you see him like that...."break up?!"
• "Yes! If you're going to leave me then there's no need for me to get attached to someone will leave me at last.....I HATE TEMPORARILY PEOPLE!" idia shouted made your heart jump from it's place, you ran to him to comfort him, you held his arm trying to face him as you tried your best to not seem sad from what he said...he didn't mean it, right?
• "Idia, i will always be by your side as long as I'm here but when it's time to go back i have to....i have a family waiting for me..." you were going to hug him and that's when he pushed you away, "then it's your choice to leave me then....I'm sorry (y/n) we have to break up!"
• "IDIA WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU?! Are you dumping me for that reason? Was i a game in your hand to toy with and leave it whenever you're tired? If that what you think of me then i will give you what you want and i will leave you...but when you know your fault don't come talk to me!" You shouted at him as you pulled him from his jacket to face your crying ones, you collected your strength to speak again "it was my fault i loved someone like you!" You threw him to the ground, you left him and ran back to your room crying, he was on the floor hugging his knees hiding his face with his hands almost crying, he felt a hand on his shoulder...it was ortho..
• "Nii san....why didn't you tell her the truth?" Ortho looked at idia in sadness as idia burst out into tears hugging his little brother tightly, "i had to do that , it's better if she don't know....when they knew im in love with a normal human they were going to get rid of her...it's all for her good to stay away from me"
• It hurts idia deeply what he said to you and what have you also said to him before you leave, but as long as you're safe then it's going to be ok, but he wasn't ok seeing you playing board games with azul every once in a while and spend time with him....and most importantly your smile that you used to bright up his day with are no longer his, he held his chest tightly crying, it was all for your own good.....
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Malleus draconia
• He was worried, not like every time he used to be, he's not that joyful person but at least not by you, you grew more worried as he was avoiding your gazes to him and that's when you decided to speak, "malleus...are you ok?" You looked at him with a questioning expression unable to read his face for the first time.
• He took a deep breath before he looked at you with a serious face, "i think we should break up" you froze for a second not knowing how to react to this sudden decision that he made all alone, " why should we? Have i done something that made you mad at me? Have i said something wrong or that's because of my carefree actions? I'm sorry, i will change it all but Don't leave me!" Your eyes began to tear, you didn't know what you did wrong!
• "Look....it's better if you stay away from me....that's my problem not yours" he looked at you with a frown as he spoke, he seriously want to break up with you? , "have i complained? I accept you with all your problems in all your forms!" You reached your hand to his back as he was facing the wall, what you couldn't see back then the pain into his face, he really doesn't want this....
• "(Y/n) it's all over between us! And....there's another one in homeland that is going to be my partner, one day you will go back to your word and i don't want to be alone anymore"
• "Malleus, have you replaced me?" You cried out you lunge as your tears were running down your face like a waterfall, your crying squeezed his heart , it's not easy for him as well, "i stood by you when no one was here, i never feard you, i loved you from the bottom of my heart...and what i got in reward that you replaced me?!" You held into malleus' back crying even harder, "please tell me you're not doinf this to me, tell me that is not real!"
• And that's when you heard another voice in the room " you're not the appropriate mach with malleus, we already found him the better ones so please calmly leave the place with no more struggling!" Your eyes widened on hearing lilia's words, it was the first time you ever hear him speaking to you in that tone, you left malleus back and took your way out of diasomania.
• Poor malleus stood there, he squeezed his eyes shut as he can't believe what he has done to you, you really were the most kind person towards him and he didn't want all of this to happen...
• "You did the right thing" said lilia before leaving malleus alone into his room..
• Time passed and you stopped hearing about malleus or even want to talk to him again, you were out of class waiting for someone, malleus saw you standing there and without thinking he began to walk towards you, but only to find another blonde guy running towards you, you were so happy to see him, " o mon fleur, sorry if i kept you waiting" it was rook hunt, he took your both hands and placed a Kiss on each one as you giggled on his action he continued, "come on, i will prepare us some tea and then we will do some skin-care routine!!" The happy guy took your hand walking you away from malleus' sight , he deeply wanted to go talk to you again but he will never do that after what happened this day.....
Even a hundred apologies will never cure broken hearts....
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keferon · 3 hours ago
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Okay- I adore the Mecha AU.. so now I have to share MY terrible idea, dunno if anyone has said this yet but- you remember that in pacific rim when Raleigh & Mako DRIFT and they both experience each other’s trauma?
What if that happened with Jazz & Prowl?
Like-
One day Prowl starts noticing a difference in Jazz's behavior, noticing how he would suddenly tense up or flinch whenever somebody suddenly started speaking loud or in the morning he’d notice how he was soaked in sweat and shakily making his way to the wash racks. Whenever he’d ask if he was alright he was always met with a smile and a reassuring remark, yet he knew something was off and he wanted to help.
So then (once he’s fully healed) he suggests to Jazz that they should do trust exercises under the guise that since he doesn’t have another Mecha so they should strengthen their own bond for any future battles. Jazz is hesitant, especially since he blames himself for Prowl being in that situation in the first place, but he also wants to spend time with Prowl so he agrees.
Prowl probably would go to a secluded spot in the forest they’re in, somewhere safe where, once Jazz is relaxed enough he can ask him about these strange behaviors he’s recently been exhibiting. Surely nothing bad will happen and surely Jazz will be fine like he usually is…
The training exercises go well, Jazz is feeling fine and they’re both in the zone when suddenly a bad memory spontaneously starts to haunt Jazz and it triggers a PTSD-esque Episode where Jazz freezes up and is suddenly taken back to that horrible time..
The time he was strapped down to a bedbunk, his body writhing in agonizing pain, the constant sting of needles piercing his skin followed by an intense burning sensation that can only be likened to being burned from the inside out, his vision going blurry and his throat raw and bleeding from screaming and crying, his body shaking and shivering as a thick sheen of sweat coats his body.
And right now… because of the DRIFT.. Prowl sees it too, he not only sees it but he’s there, standing over Jazz's restrained body, he hears screams and sounds he never EVER wanted to hear, not from Jazz of all people. His precious partner, he’s looking down at him unable to help or protect him from these strangers, these monsters who are ignoring the ear piercing, spark-wrenching screams of pure agony. Worst of all? He can’t move, he’s frozen in place, forced to stand there helplessly as Jazz is begging for mercy, begging for someone to help him… and. he. can’t. move.
It lasts just for a moment but for both of them it felt like an hour until Jazz screams himself back into reality, freeing both him and Prowl from his nightmare. Prowl drops to a knee, his mind racing as he tries to figure out what the actual hekk he just saw until he feels Jazz pounding his fist against his chest, he can vaguely make out his choked up plea which scares Prowl as he’s never heard Jazz make that noise before. Prowl opens it and barely manages to catch Jazz as the man tumbled out into his own shaky servo in a trembling heap.
Jazz is slightly pale and tears are in his eyes as he struggles to catch his breath, he knows he’s not there anymore but he still feels it.
Prowl rushes back to Ratchets hideout where he the others are and calls for him, fear gripping his tanks as Jazz is still huddled in a fetal position, hyperventilating as he grips his soaked hair. Ratchet immediately recognizes what’s happened and quickly moves to help Jazz calm down before he has a heart attack which he is very close to having with how high his pulse is. It works but the man is so worn out from the stress that he just passes out.
I don’t know but that’s been plaguing my mind since I started reading your AU and I just HAD to share it lol, what do you think? How do you think Prowl would actually react to that? I figured he’d freak out as humans and their fragile bodies are still new territory for him.
Also sorry if it’s all a bit unclear or confusing or like- boarderline rambling I’m not good at storytelling and just stick to RP and making RP plots lol.
OH MAN. OH FUCK. YEP UH HUH YEAH. THIS. oh my god
Knowing Prowl, he would probably rush to learn every bit of information he can access about. You know. How to help someone in that scenario. Because he’s scared that something would went wrong while he has zero knowledge about humans.
But also. I think it would make him realise just how strong despite his small size Jazz actually is.
Jazz might drop something about his brain being over dramatic when it’s not helpful at all. While Prowl is just are you fraggin serious you’re a superhuman
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sweettoothy · 9 hours ago
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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐃𝐒 𝐄𝐍𝐃
╰ SHOW ﹕ ARCANE !
︵ WARNING(S) ﹕╰ swearing ⸝ violence ﹕ sex
︵ relationship ﹕ Vi x fem!fragile!reader x Caitlyn
NOTE: here we areeee, I was very excited to do this chapter since we can get into what kinda powers (name) has ^^ omg first kisses?!?!? I hope y’all don’t mind the change.
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⟣・S2・FINALLY GOT THE NAME RIGHT︰
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THE MAN IN FRONT of you sneezes, you handed him one of your extra masks and looked around with curiosity— you knew not to wander off far since caitlyn was focused on finding jinx. Though you knew exactly why she wanted to find her, she was starting to act a little different towards both you and vi— which was…understandable of her since her mother had died but it wasn’t a good change, though.
“Thanks.” The man tells you thankfully. “I thought I was a goner.”
“You’re smeech’s man.” Vi spoke.
“Was.” The man corrects. “I--“ he sneezes again, covering his mouth. “Oh. I decided it was time for me to retire.”
“Looks more like someone decided to retire you.” Caitlyn retorts.
The man chuckles. “Yeah, well, timing was never my strong--“ he sneezes again. “Sorry. Sorry, it’s…it’s the grey. It gives me the--“ he sneezes again.
Caitlyn stepped forward threateningly. “Tell us how you wound up here.” she demanded, aiming her gun at him.
“Hey, wait, wait.” Heenot pleads. “Jinx is off the rails, even for her. She’s got a real fire lit up under her ass. she’s planning something big, right here in the pipe works.”
You moved the gun away from the man carefully, eyeing caitlyn with slight surprise.
“It is a pretty big place down here to do that.” You added.
Heenot grunts. “She was headed towards the old tunnels. Something about rerouting the vents.”
Caitlyn moved her finger away from the trigger, her face upturned into a scowl. “this is it, then. Cuff him.”
“Hey! I told you everything I know.” Heenot protests.
“You’re a confessed criminal. You’ll spend your retirement in a cell.” Caitlyn tells him, cocking her gun and tilting her head. “Check your gear. This is what we’ve trained for.”
Vi sighs, slowly walking near caitlyn, “can I get a minute? with you?” she asks you.
Caitlyn slowly turns around, seeing you and vi standing there with unsure looks. Avoiding caitlyn’s gaze you nodded and followed vi.
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YOU SET YOUR WEAPON aside as you leaned against the railing inside the tunnel, tucking some of your (h/c) hair behind your ear as you gazed at a saddened but determined vi, her head lowered as she shifted her feet.
“We should cut the others loose.” Vi tells you, her eyes landing on yours as she sees you gasp quietly before speaking.
“Listen..if that heenot man is telling the truth, we may need all the help we can get, vi.” You whisper to her softly, only loud enough for her to hear.
Vi shakes her head. “She’ll smell their nerves a mile away and find a way to use them against us.” she informs you, “tell me I’m wrong.”
You were think about it, blinking a few times. maybe she was right— and she was. jinx probably wouldn’t hesitate to kill you, and as many times as vi told you to stay away from the blue haired girl it was like you would get caught in the crossfire every time.
“You know cait,” You spoke. “She won’t let jinx get away again without a doubt. she’s dead set on getting her. are you sure you’re even ready to--?”
Vi interrupts you. “(Name) she almost killed you. and it’s like everyone I care about either ends up dying or changing-- I can’t let that happen. my sister is gone. there’s only jinx now. It has to end.”
You knew this was hurting her, having to do this. but it was only now or later— because ending it all later would be too late.
Vi looks at your bandaged arm, “I am so sorry about your arm. I’m sorry I can’t fix it-- but please just…everyone in my life has changed. promise me you won’t change, you or caitlyn.”
Tears escape and cascade down her eyes as a gentle sob racked her throat.
Walking towards her you reached out your hand and cupped her cheek, going onto your tippy toes to kiss the tear away. Vi took a glance down at your lips before she began to lean in, you doing the same.
Vi fully leaned in and pressed her lips against yours, your lips molding against hers in a perfect melody. Vi then feels you pull away, your (e/c) eyes looking into hers again.
“I promise.” You whisper softly, nuzzling your nose against hers. “I won’t.”
Vi drops her gauntlets and suddenly her hands are wrapping around the small of your waist as she lifts you up into her arms with ease, her hands finding their way to your ass as she gives it a gentle squeeze, the kiss deepening from there as the two of you continued kissing.
This felt nice.
When vi pulls away, she sets you down. “Not bad for your first kiss, huh?”
“Hey! you did it first! I just finished it.” You winked before your watch started beeping, “huh…Jayce wants me to meet up with him. can you and cait do this alone?” you ask.
Vi nods in reply. “Yeah, yeah. I’d rather you be somewhere safe other than here.”
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HEADING INSIDE JAYCE’S office, you see a younger male sitting with him, making you tilt your head in curiosity, “this is ekko?” You asked with a warm smile. Ekko seemed unsure whether to trust you but the smile made him ease a bit.
“What’s the topic?” You asked while sitting down, crossing your leg over the other as you leaned your cheek against your palm.
“Hextech.” Jayce replies. “Viktor hypothesized that there may be something he called ‘wild runes’. patterns that occur naturally where the border between our world and the arcane is thin.”
“Runes like the ones you use in hextech.” Ekko replies, leaning his head against his hand. “What’s the difference between those and wild runes?”
“Pass me a tome.” Jayce tells him.
Ekko slides the book over to him.
“So I used words you understood in order to elicit your action.” Jayce explains. “This is what hextech runs are.”
“Pass me a tome.” Jayce tells you this time.
You grabbed the book and handed it to him.
“Pass me a tome.” He says once more.
You let out a frustrated sigh, throwing the book his way.
“There! you sighed. still a kind of language.” Jayce says. “A sound, but not words. something raw. natural. that’s wild runes. most places, the arcane is dormant, but here and there, it’s more active. and wild runes are--“
“Sort of like its fingerprints.” Ekko finishes.
“Exactly.” Jayce nods in agreement.
Your brows furrowed. “Wait wait-- you mean to tell me you-- by using so much of the hextech you’re basically pissing off the arcane?”
“That’s-- that’s not what I--“ Jayce stammered as he avoided your gaze.
“Ooh, she may be onto something. every action sparks a reaction.” Heimerdinger says, accidentally dropping something on the ground. “Oh, ball sockets.”
Ekko chuckles when he sees this.
“Do you think this could actually be a result of overuse of hextech?” Jayce asks you, maybe it was true…using way too much hextech always made you wonder what would happen.
“That’s the only reason.” You answer, leaning back in your seat as you pondered the idea of what could happen. “I mean..I don’t use it, but if I did I probably would overuse it and not even know. everything has its limits.”
“We tested our hextech under every conceivable condition for years.” Jayce says. “If there’s some reaction taking place, how come we’ve never seen any sign of it until now? and why would it appear on a tree, deep underground?”
You and Jayce share a look.
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“WHAT IS THIS PLACE?” YOU ASKED with curiosity as you sat down your bag, walking next to heimerdinger who looked around.
“I thought the gemstone mesh was installed above ground.” Ekko says.
“Me too..” you added with narrowed eyes.
“The mesh is above ground, but we weren’t sure what would happen if the gate overloaded, so we installed a failsafe at the base.” Jayce explains, you crossed your arms over your chest, still unsure about the whole thing.
“So instead of it exploding in your neighborhood, it would blow up in ours.” Ekko retorts.
Jayce turns to him. “We’re miles from the main fissures.”
“These are the same utility ducts that carry our water,” Ekko tells him. “And facilitate our ventilation. and that would explain it affecting the tree.”
“Inconceivable.” You hear heimerdinger say.
“That..that doesn’t explain--“ You paused, wondering if becoming an enforcer was really what you wanted in the first place.
“You know, you say we should feel like we’re all one people.” Ekko continues. “But whenever it rains, we’re the ones that get wet--“
His voice echoed as the scenery in the room changed to something completely different, you blinked a few times, eyes landing on what was in front of you.
“What the…” Jayce trails off confusedly, looking around himself.
The entire room was white, dull, like it was full of nothing.
“Is that..a wild rune?” Ekko questioned, your gazed landed on the wild rune in front of you.
“I have no idea what that is.” Jayce added.
All four of you stood in front of whatever the glowing ball was in front of you, you stepped back, eyes widening a bit. “No way.”
Weirdly enough the rune starts affecting your hair, the edge of the strands beginning to change colors. Jayce reaches forward begins to touch it.
“Ow!” You flinched away from the rune, whatever you just felt rush into your skin made it hurt a thousand times worse than your hair.
“Jayce, stop touching it!” You shouted at him.
But Jayce doesn’t hear you.
The world felt like it was spinning before you turned towards him, a chill runs down your spine as your bottom lip trembled. “Hello..?”
You felt yourself collapse, the air in your lungs beginning to fade. Jayce touches the rune, you clutched your head, starting to hear whispers from every side of you. “Stop, stop, stop!”
Whatever you were hearing didn’t want to stop, it’s like they enjoyed antagonizing you.
The world around you was starting to look different.
“Ekko! Jayce!” You shout again. “Anyone?!”
Silence.
Something blasts you in your chest, knocking you back as blood falls down your nose.
Then it fades to black.
END OF CHAPTER THREE
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willowed-wisp · 2 days ago
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sweethearts [ johnny ‘soap’ mactavish ]
johnny ‘soap’ mactavish x f!reader
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You had known him forever. Since nursery school and all the time in between.
John MacTavish- though, you called him Johnny. And in later life, that turned into calling him ‘Soap’.
He had been gunning for that uniform since you were 15 and he was 16… falsifying his age only to fail miserably.
It was culture shock to when he left when he was 18… he was your first friend, first kiss, first young love. Yet, it was nothing official. Just two best friends experimenting with each other. You couldn’t have asked for a better person.
You were there when he came back- more of a man than the boy who left. All of him larger than before even that indicative smile. But HE hadn’t changed, still the same snack eating, football loving Scotsman.
That meant your attraction for him was worse than ever- having been in love with Johnny for most of your life. His sky bursted gaze enough to drive you crazy.
Someone like him would never feel the same about you- strictly friends.
Mates who got mistaken for boyfriend and girlfriend most days of the week. Neither of you minded it but it was always you who persisted the, ‘as if… he drives me insane…’ the pining kind of insanity.
His return led you to distance yourself, an insecure freshly turned 18 year old, distracting herself from the boy next door. Johnny could do much better for friends than you, he was the youngest SAS recruit to pass the selection.
HE COULD DO MUCH BETTER THAN YOU.
You didn’t even go say goodbye to him when he left for his first mission- somewhere you’d never know.
Instead, he came to you. Stood at your doorstep.
His face gloomy, “So you weren’ even gonna say goodbye?” Not knowing what to do, your shoulders shrugged and silence ensued. “You’ve been off for weeks, when was the last time we had a movie night? Is it because of the training? Me leavin’?”
Fingers picking at your nails; you’d never been nervous around him. But this was the first time seeing him in god-knows how long, when you hadn’t spent a day away from each other. “I don’t know, John- ,”
“You do know and that’s the problem, Y/N, because you won’t bloody tell me what I’ve done wrong,” he spoke harsher than intended, regretting it within an instant as your stepped forward- sizing the six foot something soldier up.
Staring up at him, “Why do you bother with me when you could have anybody around you? I’m not going anywhere with my life!” It wasn’t envy that spurred you on, it was the fact he was going to leave you.
Heartbroken and yearning. Lost without the boy who had always bolstered you up when you had been thrown to the ground.
Johnny’s eyes welled with tears, “What’s made you think that?”
In a whisper, “You’ve just gotten into the fucking SAS, Johnny…”
“So what? I’m still the same guy… nothing’s ever gonna change me… you should know that by now…”
You wanted things to change- the dynamics between you. Before he found somebody who would knock him off his feet and you’d never get the chance.
His fingers trailed your arm, before he cupped your hand. Blue coveted your vision, “Nothing’s goin’ to change us, you’re my absolute best mate…”
Like a dagger, he struck a nerve, “Maybe I don’t want to be your ‘best mate’, I’m sick of pining for you when clearly you’ll never feel the same way,” a quick pause, “Go and find a pretty gir- ,” Before you knew it, his kiss smothered you. More intimate than when you were twelve, with more intent.
Instead of resisting, you caved in. Hands balanced holding his jawline, clean shaven.
Exploring every inch of your body in that hurried kiss. It was better than anything you had dreamed.
Before you pulled away first, “You’re my everything, Y/N…” Thumbs rubbing circles at your waist. “I cannot tell you how long I’ve wanted to do tha’…”
The memory ran writhe in your brain. That was 8 years ago…
Since then you were happily married with a baby on the way. Johnny had been deployed for over a month. Today he was supposed to be returning- from where you didn’t have a clue but he always came home safely.
That’s what mattered.
You expected the phone to start buzzing, the usual unknown number saying to go to the airport. Instead, a knock at the door.
It was like him not to want to run you around pregnant. But it was Simon who answered the door.
Not able to help the tremble. Air caught in your throat, choking on nothing. “He’s not… is he?” Stopping those tears from coming down- clutching your belly.
You’d have fallen to your knees- had it not been for capable hands.
You looked up, blue eyes for days and a face contorted worriedly, “What did you say, to ‘er, LT?” He held you close, but it would never be enough for you. “You and munchkin okay?” He rubbed your large stomach.
You crushed him in your arms. “Darlin’, I’m a bit tender…” Only then did you notice the sling in his arm, a bandage skirting beneath his shirt.
“What happened?” He shook his head, a grin on his face.
One of nervousness, “It could have been a lot worse,” Simon was as gruff as usual. You would never be allowed to know what happened.
“I’m just glad you’re safe and sound,” Thumb rubbing along longer stubble on his cheek, there was more to the story than either him or Simon were telling you. “You too, Si, thanks for taking care of him.” Spoken wholeheartedly, “Dinners on, you can stay if you want?”
He accepted as he usually did. The mood held less tension as time went on. You came to the conclusion that you were lucky to have Johnny in front of you, laughing at some stupid dad joke Simon said.
All you did was sit there, looking at the guy you had loved all your life.
Your Johnny…
————
I contemplated 💀 Johnny but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. He’s just too sweet and just too tragic to write.
Thank you for reading :) xx
————
masterlist
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