#I can feel my heart tightening and beating strangely | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bloomries · 8 months ago

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yeah so my husband— my husband?!

includes : lucifer, mammon, leviathan, satan, asmodeus, beelzebub, and belphegor.

summary : calling him your "husband" (even though you two aren't married yet) to see his reaction.

warnings : gn! reader. mention of marriage. suggestive (in asmodeus'). the word 'husband' will begin to look strange bc it's used so much, apologies.

LUCIFER

You just meant for it to be a harmless little prank, something to tease Lucifer with later when you two were alone, perhaps gauge his reaction to the idea, but after you said 'yeah, so my husband...' Diavolo's eyes grew as wide as the moon and you instantly regretted your prank idea.

Diavolo clasped a hand on Lucifer's shoulder, beaming. "You finally asked!" This statement went over your head as you tried to quickly take back your words, Lucifer's blanched face making it clear he'll definitely be scolding you later. "But it seems I missed the wedding? Oh well, I'll just host you another wedding so I can see it for myself!"

"Ah, L- Lord Diavolo..." Lucifer sends you a glare as you smile sheepishly. "We aren't- I haven't-"

"How do you both feel about a chocolate fountain?" Diavolo is already off in his own little world, imagining how he'll plan out your wedding. Lucifer decides he'll inform Barbatos of the prank, and have Barbatos deal with it- Lucifer already has his hands full with you. He pulls you aside as Diavolo talks to himself.

"Do you see what you've done?"

"Sorry..." You fake pout, batting your lashes up at him. "My darling husband will surely fix it though, right?" Oh, how can he stay mad when he truly likes the title so much. Perhaps this will make asking you to marry him easier? You surely seem to enjoy the title just as much.

MAMMON

Mammon is always trying to listen in on your phone calls, he's nosy and likes to know all the gossip. Today in particular though, he's trying extra hard to hear, clinging to you and making you unable to do other tasks whilst on your call.

Deciding to tease him a little, in hopes of getting him off of you, you sigh dramatically into the receiver. "I'm sorry, my husband needs my attention, one second."

And when you look down at him, his eyes are wide and shiny, a blush quickly forming on his cheeks. Him? Were you talking about him? He's your husband? A giant grin takes over his features and it seems your little prank has the opposite effect you wanted, as he takes the phone from you.

"Yeah, sorry, their husband- that's me!- needs 'em!" He boasts proudly before hanging up the call and clutching on to you tighter, burying his face into your side, his grin not changing in the slightest.

You sigh, running your fingers through his hair. "Rude, I was trying to talk to someone, you know." Mammon shrugs, not a care in the world.

"'m your husband, I take priority."

"You know you're not officially my husband yet, right?" Shit, you're right. Well, that'll change soon, don't you worry one bit! Mammon knows how to take a hint, and there'll be a ring on that finger soon enough!

LEVIATHAN

You and Levi were playing an online game, chat on full blast, when you decide to tease him- because it's just so fun to see his flustered expression, and you have an inkling that this'll give him some motivation for the game. "Ah, hubby, can you help me with these guys!"

"H- Hubby!?" Leviathan's neck nearly breaks from how quickly he snaps to look over at you, you seem unphased though by the phrase- as if it came so naturally. His heart skips a beat, his grip on the controller tightening. "W- Where are you, I'll come help!"

His gaming friends are all blowing up the chat box, some getting on voice chat just to ask what that meant- 'was Levi actually married?,' 'He was a husband?,' 'Since when!?,' 'Congratulations!,' etc.

Levi would have gotten more flustered, had he been paying any attention to said friends, but he's much more focused on proving he'd make an excellent spouse by rushing to where you were in the map and one-shotting all the enemies that surrounded you.

The battle is quickly won thanks to Levi, who puffs out his chest with pride. You lean over from your gaming station adjacent of his, and press a kiss to his cheek. "Thank you, hubby~" His cheeks grow a rosy pink, and he pulls his headphones off to give you a serious look.

"Let's get married."

SATAN

"Oh husband~" You call, "Can you help me get this book? I can't reach!" Satan peaks his head from around the corner to give you a questioning look. Who were you calling husband? He watches you struggle, leaning his frame against the door with his arms crossed over his chest.

"I don't remember proposing." Satan watches as you deflates from his lack of reaction to your prank. He sighs, walking over to you and helping you reach the book, tapping it on your head lightly before handing it over to you.

"You're no fun, you know that?"

Satan has a feeling this was definitely set up by one of his brothers, and he'll definitely be getting his revenge on them for making you do this (and for making his heart hammer against his ribcage uncontrollably). Still, he hates to see you upset in the least, so he lifts your chin with his finger and thumb and sends you that smile that sends shivers down your spine.

"Don't be upset, you'll get to call me husband soon, okay?"

And he truly did mean that, he already had a ring, which sat heavy in his pocket. He just wanted to make sure you had the most perfect proposal, something straight out of a romance novel- because that's what you deserve. Soon, soon you'll be able to lovingly call him 'husband' whenever you wish.

ASMODEUS

Asmo is live-streaming again, doing a little grwm-type video, with you off to the side/in the background. As he begins to do his skin care, he asks for you to take over and chat for a little while for him, so you peak your head into view and wave at his viewers.

"Hello everyone!" You smile, glancing back at Asmo who's behind you in the bathroom, doing his skincare. "My lovely husband is doing his skincare right now, it usually takes him about ten to fifteen minutes to complete it." You say, however you can see his head pop-up from the sink and he whips around to look at you.

"Husband?" He calls, and when you nod, confirming your words, he grins. "Oh my, is this a proposal?" He asks with a teasing lilt, and you joking go along with his words, nodding before reenacting the famous getting-down-on-one-knee. You open your hands as if you had a ring box, presenting it to him. He holds his hand out to you, "I do~" You pretend to slip a ring on to his finger and he admires the imaginary ring before leaning down to kiss you.

"Now," He pulls away, wiggling his brows. "Shall we get started on the honeymoon part?"

"Asmo, that's typically after the weddi-" Asmo reaches for his phone, waving and saying a little 'byeeee' to his followers as he ends the livestream with a giggle, throwing you a lil' mischievous smile.

"No harm in starting earlier, right?" And despite only being halfway through his skincare, and this not being a real proposal, the honeymoon was very nice indeed- he can't wait for the real one though.

BEELZEBUB

You had seen the trend, and wondered how Beelzebub would react. So, under the guise of trying some new food and giving it a review, you set up your camera and begin filming. "Hey everyone, me and my husband are going to be rating food from the new McDevil menu~"

Beel doesn't react at all, and you send him a quick glance before trying again- perhaps he didn't hear you? "I think the Sin-Fries are a solid 7/10, what about you, husband?" But again, he doesn't react to the word at all, instead giving his own rating for the new fries.

Is he really not realizing what you're saying? You decide to try one last time. "My husbands food always looks better than mine," You whine, peaking over at him to see his reaction, only to see him offering you a bite of his burger. You sigh, giving up and deciding to just enjoy your food. You take a bite of his burger, offering him some of yours. The review ends swiftly, and you turn off the camera.

As you two clean up from eating, you notice Beelzebub quieter than usual. You're about to ask him if everything is okay, his face becoming flushed, when he speaks up.

"Soon, okay?" You blink a few times, confused by his words. He bashfully looks up at you, and that's when you realize what he's talking about- marriage, he plans on proposing to you soon. Your own cheeks now grow unbearably warm. "I promise."

Your prank definitely backfired, as now you're the one trying to calm your racing heart (although Beelzebub is definitely just as flustered). Still, you're holding him accountable to his promise- soon.

BELPHEGOR

You're not sure how this little prank managed to get turned against you, but Belphegor has made it so that you're now his personal pillow- again.

"I'm just saying, if I'm you're husband, then that means you should let me use you as a pillow whenever I want." You open your mouth to retaliate, but he beats you to it, batting his lashes up at you. "Don't you want your husband to be comfortable?"

"I..." You falter. You regret deciding to call him your 'husband~' to try and get him to help you with chores. You thought maybe it'd motivate him, or maybe you'd just get to see his cute blushing face, instead you're suffering.

"Come on now, don't be shy~" He wiggles about, trying to grab you to pull you towards him, but he doesn't really exert enough energy to be successful. "Ugh, why... do you... do this... to me- to your darling husband!"

"You're anything but darling." You say, crossing your arms over your chest. "Last time I call you 'husband' or any term of endearment, I swear..." You grumble, turning on your heels to leave, disappointed your prank didn't work.

Belphegor grins, snuggling up to his pillow as he watches you leave. "That's what you think," he mumbles to himself, yawning, "when I finally get that ring on your finger, I'll have ya calling me husband again, just you wait~" He snickers, and a cold chill runs down your spine. You glance back to see him asleep, although you feel as if he's planning something- and you weren't sticking around to find out what!

#obey me x reader #om x reader #omswd x reader #obey me imagines #om imagines #omswd imagines #obey me headcanons #om headcanons #omswd headcanons #lucifer x reader #mammon x reader #leviathan x reader #satan x reader #asmodeus x reader #beelzebub x reader #belphegor x reader #om fluff

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pucksandpower · 4 months ago

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Find Me Again

Lando Norris x Reader

Summary: in which two soulmates are destined to always find each other only to be torn apart lifetime after lifetime after lifetime … until finally, they’re not (aka the reincarnation AU)

Alexandria, 30 BC

The scorching Egyptian sun beats down on Alexandria as you hurry through the bustling streets, your sandals slapping against the warm stone. The air is thick with tension — whispers of Octavian’s approaching army have the city on edge. But your mind is elsewhere, focused on the stolen moments you’ll soon share with Lando.

You slip into a secluded alleyway, heart racing as you spot his familiar silhouette. Lando’s face lights up when he sees you, though worry creases his brow.

“There you are,” he murmurs, pulling you close. “I was beginning to think you wouldn’t come.”

You melt into his embrace, savoring his warmth. “I’m sorry I’m late. The palace has been in chaos with all the rumors flying about.”

Lando’s arms tighten around you. “It’s true then? Octavian draws near?”

You nod against his chest. “I fear so. Cleopatra grows more desperate by the day.”

He pulls back, cupping your face in his calloused hands. His dark eyes search yours intently. “Come away with me,” he pleads. “We can leave the city tonight, find passage on a ship bound for Greece or Cyprus.”

Your heart aches at the longing in his voice. “Lando, you know I can’t abandon my duty to the queen. She needs me now more than ever.”

“And what of my need for you?” Lando’s voice cracks with emotion. “Each day I’m torn between my loyalty to Rome and my love for you. I cannot bear the thought of you in danger when Octavian’s forces arrive.”

You reach up to caress his cheek, feeling the stubble beneath your fingers. “My brave soldier,” you murmur. “Always trying to protect me. But I’ve survived far worse than regime changes. We’ll find a way through this, as we always do.”

Lando leans into your touch, his eyes fluttering closed. “I wish I had your optimism. Every time I close my eyes, I see visions of you lying lifeless amidst the chaos of battle.”

A chill runs down your spine despite the oppressive heat. “Don’t speak of such things,” you chide gently. “We make our own fate, remember?”

He sighs, pressing his forehead to yours. “I know. I just ... I can’t shake this feeling of impending doom. Promise me you’ll be careful, my love. Promise you’ll do whatever it takes to stay safe.”

“I promise,” you whisper, sealing the vow with a tender kiss.

Lando responds eagerly, drawing you closer as the kiss deepens. For a blissful moment, the world fades away and there is only the two of you, lost in each other’s embrace.

A distant shout breaks the spell. You reluctantly pull away, both breathing heavily.

“I should go,” you murmur regretfully. “Cleopatra will be wondering where I’ve disappeared to.”

Lando nods, though he doesn’t release you from his arms. “When can I see you again?”

You bite your lip, considering. “Three days from now, at sunset. Meet me by the lighthouse?”

“I’ll be there,” he vows solemnly. “Be safe, my love.”

With a final lingering kiss, you slip from his embrace and hurry back towards the palace. Your heart feels lighter despite the looming threats, buoyed by Lando’s love and the promise of your next rendezvous.

But fate, it seems, has other plans.

The next few days pass in a blur of mounting tension. Cleopatra grows increasingly erratic, oscillating between grandiose plans to seduce Octavian and talks of ending her own life. You do your best to comfort and counsel her, all while stealing moments to daydream about your upcoming meeting with Lando.

On the fated evening, you’re helping Cleopatra prepare for bed when she suddenly fixates on a basket of figs brought by a servant.

“Ah, how fitting,” she muses, a strange glint in her eye. “Did you know, my dear, that the Egyptians that came before us believed figs to be the fruit of the afterlife?”

A chill runs down your spine. “My queen?”

Cleopatra waves a hand dismissively. “Oh, don’t look so worried. I was simply contemplating the cyclical nature of life and death. Come, help me into bed.”

You obey, tucking the sheets around her with practiced ease. As you turn to leave, her hand darts out to grasp your wrist.

“Stay with me a while longer,” she implores. “I find I cannot bear to be alone with my thoughts tonight.”

Your heart sinks, knowing you’ll miss your rendezvous with Lando. But duty wins out over desire. “Of course, my queen. I’ll stay as long as you need me.”

Hours pass as you sit by Cleopatra’s bedside, listening to her reminisce about better days. Just as your eyelids begin to grow heavy, a commotion in the hall startles you both fully awake.

“What’s happening?” Cleopatra demands, sitting up.

Before you can answer, the doors burst open and a breathless messenger stumbles in. “My queen,” he pants, “Octavian’s army has breached the city walls!”

Cleopatra’s face hardens. “So, the end has come at last.” She turns to you, her gaze intense. “Fetch me the asp.”

Your blood runs cold. “My queen, surely there must be another way-”

“Do not argue with me!” She snaps. “I will not be paraded through Rome as Octavian’s prize. Now go, quickly!”

With a heavy heart, you hurry to retrieve the venomous snake from its hidden chamber. Your hands shake as you return, presenting the basket to Cleopatra.

She reaches for it eagerly, but pauses. Her eyes meet yours, softening slightly. “My faithful friend,” she murmurs. “You have served me well. I release you from your duties. Go, find that Roman boy of yours and flee while you still can.”

Your eyes widen in shock. “You knew?”

Cleopatra’s lips quirk in a sad smile. “I’ve always known. Now go, before it’s too late.”

Torn between duty and desire, you hesitate. In that moment of indecision, everything changes.

Cleopatra reaches for the asp, but in her haste, she knocks the basket from your hands. The snake falls to the floor, immediately striking at the nearest target … you.

Pain explodes in your ankle as the asp’s fangs sink into your flesh. You cry out, stumbling backwards.

“No!” Cleopatra wails, lunging to catch you as you fall.

The world begins to spin as the venom courses through your veins. Your last coherent thought is of Lando, waiting faithfully by the lighthouse. As darkness closes in, you pray he’ll forgive you for breaking your promise.

Hours later, Lando fights his way through the chaos of the conquered city. He charges into the palace, heedless of the danger, desperate to find you.

When he bursts into Cleopatra’s chambers, his worst fears are realized. Two bodies lie motionless on the floor — the queen and beside her ...

“No,” he chokes out, falling to his knees beside your lifeless form. “No, no, no. This can’t be happening.”

Lando gathers you into his arms, cradling you against his chest as sobs wrack his body. “You promised,” he whispers brokenly. “You promised you’d stay safe.”

But promises, like empires, are so easily broken. As the sun rises on a new era for Egypt, it sets on this chapter of your shared story. Yet even as this life ends, the seeds of the next are already taking root, waiting to bloom in another time, another place.

For true love, like the mighty Nile, cannot be contained. It flows ever onward, carving new paths through the landscape of eternity.

Pompeii, 79 AD

The ground trembles beneath your feet as you race through the chaotic streets of Pompeii. Ash rains from the sky, coating everything in a ghostly gray shroud. All around, people scream and push, desperately seeking escape from the fury of Mount Vesuvius.

“Lando!” You call out, your voice hoarse from the acrid air. “Lando, where are you?”

A hand suddenly grabs your arm, yanking you into a narrow alleyway. You whirl around, ready to fight, only to find yourself face to face with Lando. His usually immaculate toga is torn and stained with soot, his dark curls matted with ash.

“Thank the gods,” he breathes, pulling you into a fierce embrace. “I thought I’d lost you in the crowd.”

You cling to him tightly, savoring his familiar warmth amidst the chaos. “We need to get out of the city,” you say urgently. “The mountain — it’s like nothing I’ve ever seen before.”

Lando nods grimly. “I know. I’ve been trying to make it to the harbor, but the roads are completely blocked. It’s madness out there.”

Another tremor rocks the ground, stronger than before. Pieces of masonry rain down from the surrounding buildings. Lando shields you with his body as you both press against the alley wall.

“We can’t stay here,” you say once the shaking subsides. “It’s not safe.”

“Nowhere is safe,” Lando replies, his eyes haunted. “But you’re right, we need to keep moving. Come on, I know another way to the docks.”

Hand-in-hand, you dash back out into the crowded street. The air grows thicker with each passing moment, making it harder to breathe. You pull the edge of your stola over your mouth and nose, squinting through the haze.

Lando leads you through a maze of side streets and back alleys, avoiding the worst of the panicked crowds. But with each turn, your hope dwindles. The mountain’s fury seems to be growing by the minute, raining down fire and ash with terrifying intensity.

As you round another corner, you come face to face with a wall of rubble blocking the entire street. Lando curses under his breath, pounding his fist against a fallen column.

“It’s no use,” he says, defeat creeping into his voice. “Every path to the harbor is cut off. We’re trapped.”

You squeeze his hand reassuringly. “Then we’ll find somewhere to wait it out. The gods won’t abandon us. We just have to have faith.”

He turns to you, a sad smile playing on his lips. “Always the optimist, aren’t you? Even in the face of certain doom.”

“One of us has to be,” you reply, managing a weak smile of your own.

Another violent tremor shakes the ground, nearly knocking you both off your feet. In the distance, you hear the ominous rumble of collapsing buildings.

“Quick, in here!” Lando shouts, pulling you towards a sturdy-looking stone building. You duck inside just as a fresh barrage of burning rocks pelts the street where you were standing moments ago.

As your eyes adjust to the dimness, you realize you’re in some kind of workshop. Half-finished statues and blocks of marble are scattered about, coated in a fine layer of ash that has sifted through the cracks.

“A sculptor’s studio,” Lando muses, running his hand along a nearby bust. “Rather fitting, don’t you think? To spend our last moments surrounded by art meant to outlast us all.”

You shoot him a reproachful look. “Don’t talk like that. This isn’t the end. We’ll get through this, just like we always do.”

He sighs, pulling you close. “I admire your spirit, my love. But I fear this time, the Fates have other plans for us.”

As if to punctuate his words, the ground gives another violent lurch. The air grows even thicker, filled with choking dust and sulfurous fumes.

“It’s getting harder to breathe,” you gasp, fighting back a coughing fit.

Lando guides you to a relatively clear corner of the room, helping you sit on the floor before settling beside you. He wraps his arm around your shoulders, drawing you against his side.

“Just try to take shallow breaths,” he instructs, his own voice strained. “Like this, see?”

You nod, focusing on matching your breathing to his. For a moment, there’s nothing but the sound of your labored breaths and the distant rumble of the mountain.

“Lando?” You whisper after a while.

“Hmm?”

“I’m scared.”

He tightens his hold on you, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I know, love. I am too.”

“Tell me a story?” You ask, your voice small. “Like you used to, when we first met. Remember?”

Lando chuckles softly. “How could I forget? You were the most stubborn student I’ve ever had the misfortune of tutoring.”

“Hey!” You protest weakly, managing a smile despite everything. “I wasn’t that bad.”

“Oh no?” He teases. “Who was it that insisted the Odyssey would be vastly improved if Odysseus had simply asked for directions?”

You laugh, the sound quickly dissolving into a cough. “Well, it’s true! Twenty years to get home? Penelope should have moved on.”

Lando shakes his head in mock dismay. “Such disrespect for the classics. I clearly failed as your tutor.”

“Never,” you murmur, snuggling closer to him. “You taught me far more important things than dusty old stories.”

“Oh? And what might those be?”

You tilt your head up to meet his gaze. “You taught me what it means to truly love someone. To find a home not in a place, but in a person.”

Lando’s eyes shine with unshed tears as he leans down to kiss you softly. “And you, my darling, taught me that life is meant to be lived, not just studied. You brought color to my world of scrolls and stone.”

Another tremor shakes the building, sending a fresh wave of dust raining down on you both. The air grows thicker, each breath a struggle.

“Lando,” you wheeze, gripping his hand tightly. “I don’t want to die.”

He pulls you onto his lap, cradling you against his chest. “Shh, it’s alright. I’m here. I’ve got you.”

“Promise you won’t leave me?” You plead, your vision starting to blur.

“Never,” he vows fiercely. “Not in this life or any other. Wherever our souls go next, we go together. I promise.”

You manage a weak nod, focusing on the steady beat of his heart against your cheek. As consciousness begins to slip away, you’re struck by a strange sense of déjà vu.

“Lando?” You murmur, your voice barely audible.

“Yes, love?”

“I think ... I think we’ve done this before.”

He lets out a shaky laugh. “What, died in each other’s arms while a volcano erupts? I think I’d remember that.”

You shake your head slightly. “No, not exactly. But this feeling ... like we’ve known each other forever. Like we’ll find each other again, no matter what.”

Lando is quiet for a long moment. When he speaks, his voice is thick with emotion. “Maybe we have. Maybe we will. I’d like to think so.”

“Me too,” you whisper.

As the world crumbles around you, you cling to each other. Your last thoughts are not of fear or regret, but of the love you share. A love so powerful it transcends time itself.

And as this chapter closes, another waits to begin. For some bonds are too strong to be broken, even by death. Your souls are destined to find each other again and again, weaving an eternal tapestry of love across the ages.

Salem, 1692

The air in the Salem courthouse is thick with tension and the bitter scent of fear. You stand before the assembled judges, your wrists bound tightly with rough rope that chafes your skin. The crowd of onlookers murmurs and shifts restlessly, their faces a sea of suspicion and barely concealed hostility.

Lando sits among them, his face a mask of anguish as he watches the proceedings. He wants nothing more than to rush to your side, to shield you from the madness that has gripped the town. But he knows that any show of support would only damn you further in the eyes of the court.

Judge Hathorne’s voice rings out, silencing the whispers. “The accused will step forward.”

You take a shaky step, raising your chin defiantly despite the terror coursing through your veins.

“You stand accused of witchcraft and consorting with the devil,” Hathorne intones gravely. “How do you plead?”

“Not guilty,” you declare, your voice stronger than you feel. “I am no witch, merely a midwife and herbalist. I have done nothing but help this community.”

A snort of derision comes from the crowd. You turn to see Goodwife Putnam, her face twisted with malice. “Lies!” She shrieks. “I saw her dancing naked in the woods, consorting with dark spirits!”

“That’s not true!” You protest. “I was gathering herbs for my remedies, nothing more!”

Judge Hathorne raises an eyebrow. “And can anyone vouch for your whereabouts on the night in question?”

Your heart sinks. You had been alone that night, as you often were when foraging. “I ... I was alone, your honor. But I swear on all that is holy, I am no witch.”

A ripple of whispers sweeps through the crowd. Lando’s fists clench at his sides, his jaw tight with the effort of remaining silent.

“Very convenient,” Hathorne remarks dryly. “Goody Putnam, you may continue with your testimony.”

The woman stands, her eyes gleaming with a fervor that chills you to the bone. “I’ve seen her speaking to animals as if they could understand her. And just last week, my cow’s milk turned sour the very day after she visited our farm!”

“That’s ridiculous!” You exclaim. “Milk spoils, it’s a natural occurrence. And I often speak to animals, as do many others. It does not make me a witch!”

But your protests fall on deaf ears. One by one, your neighbors step forward with increasingly outlandish accusations. Every misfortune, every unexplained event is laid at your feet.

“She cursed my crops!”

“My child fell ill after eating her bread!”

“I saw her flying on a broomstick!”

The claims grow more absurd, but the judges nod solemnly at each one. You feel the noose of suspicion tightening around your neck with each passing moment.

Finally, unable to bear it any longer, Lando leaps to his feet. “This is madness!” He shouts. “You’re condemning an innocent woman based on nothing but gossip and superstition!”

All eyes turn to him. Judge Danforth fixes him with a steely glare. “Master Norris, you will remain silent or be removed from this courtroom.”

“I will not be silent while you murder an innocent woman!” Lando retorts. He turns to the crowd, imploring them. “Can’t you see what’s happening? We’re tearing our community apart with these baseless accusations!”

A murmur of uncertainty ripples through the onlookers. For a moment, you dare to hope that reason might prevail.

But then Abigail Williams, one of the young girls at the center of the witch hunt, lets out a blood-curdling shriek. She points a trembling finger at you. “Her specter! I see her specter tormenting me even now!”

The other girls quickly join in, writhing and screaming as if in the throes of possession. The courtroom erupts into chaos.

“Order!” Judge Hathorne bellows, pounding his gavel. “Order in the court!”

As the commotion dies down, he turns to you, his expression grave. “The evidence against you is overwhelming. Unless you confess and repent, I have no choice but to find you guilty of witchcraft.”

Your heart pounds in your chest. You know that a confession might spare your life, but it would mean living a lie. And worse, it would lend credence to the madness gripping Salem.

“I will not confess to crimes I did not commit,” you say quietly but firmly. “I am innocent before God and man.”

Judge Hathorne’s face hardens. “Then you leave us no choice. You are hereby sentenced to death by hanging. May God have mercy on your soul.”

The crowd erupts into a mix of cheers and shocked gasps. Lando’s anguished cry rises above the din. “No! You can’t do this!”

He rushes towards you, but is quickly restrained by two burly constables. “Let me go!” He shouts, struggling against their grip. “She’s innocent!”

Your eyes meet his across the chaotic courtroom. Despite everything, you manage a small, sad smile. “It’s alright, Lando,” you call out. “Be strong. This isn’t your fault.”

As the guards move to lead you away, Lando breaks free and rushes to your side. He cups your face in his hands, his eyes wild with desperation. “I’ll find a way to stop this,” he vows. “I won’t let them take you.”

You lean into his touch, memorizing the feel of his hands on your skin. “There’s nothing you can do, my love. Promise me you’ll stay safe. Don’t let them take you too.”

“I can’t lose you,” he chokes out, tears streaming down his face.

“You won’t,” you whisper fiercely. “Not really. I don’t know how I know this, but I swear we’ll find each other again. In another life, another time. This isn’t the end for us.”

The guards roughly pull you apart. As they drag you away, you keep your eyes locked on Lando’s, drawing strength from his gaze.

The next few days pass in a blur of fear and desperate prayer. You cling to the strange certainty that had come over you in the courtroom — that somehow, someway, this is not truly the end for you and Lando.

On the day of your execution, you walk to the gallows with your head held high. The crowd that has gathered is subdued, some already beginning to question the justice of what’s happening.

You scan the faces, searching for Lando, but he’s nowhere to be seen. Your heart aches at his absence, but you understand. It would be too painful for him to watch.

As the noose is placed around your neck, you close your eyes and think of Lando. Of his laugh, his gentle touch, the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles. You hold onto these memories as the world falls away beneath your feet.

Your last conscious thought is a promise — to find him again, no matter how long it takes.

Miles away, hidden in the woods, Lando feels the exact moment you leave this world. He collapses to his knees, a wordless cry of anguish tearing from his throat. But even in his grief, he feels the echo of your final promise.

“I’ll find you,” he whispers to the uncaring forest. “In this life or the next. We’ll be together again. I swear it.”

And so another chapter closes, the threads of your shared destiny stretching onward through time. The cycle continues, each life bringing you closer to the moment when you’ll finally break free of this endless dance of death and rebirth.

Yekaterinburg, 1918

The Ipatiev House looms dark and foreboding in the Yekaterinburg night. You pace the confines of your makeshift prison, the once-opulent rooms now a stark reminder of how far the mighty Romanovs have fallen. The sound of raised voices and heavy footsteps from the floor below sends a chill down your spine.

“They’re coming,” your sister Maria whispers, her eyes wide with fear.

Before you can respond, the door bursts open. A group of armed men file in, their faces grim and purposeful. Your heart nearly stops when you spot a familiar face among them.

“Lando?” You gasp, scarcely able to believe your eyes.

He meets your gaze, his expression a turbulent mix of emotions. “Grand Duchess,” he says stiffly, the formal title at odds with the intimate moments you’ve shared in secret.

“What’s happening?” You demand, struggling to keep your voice steady. “Why are you here?”

Yakov Yurovsky, the commandant of the house, steps forward. “The Ural Soviet has decided to execute the Romanov family,” he announces coldly. “You are to be moved to the basement immediately.”

A wave of terror washes over you. “No,” you breathe. “No, this can’t be happening.”

Your eyes lock with Lando’s, silently pleading. For a moment, you see the conflict raging behind his eyes. But then his expression hardens, and he looks away.

As the guards begin herding your family towards the stairs, you manage to maneuver closer to Lando. “How could you be part of this?” You hiss under your breath.

His jaw clenches. “The revolution demands sacrifices,” he mutters. “Even from those we ... care about.”

“Care about?” You repeat incredulously. “Is that all I am to you now? After everything we’ve shared?”

A flicker of pain crosses his face. “You know it’s more complicated than that. Your family’s rule has caused immeasurable suffering. This ... this is justice.”

“Murder is not justice,” you retort, your voice trembling with a mix of fear and anger.

Before he can respond, you’re roughly pushed forward. The journey to the basement is a blur of terror and disbelief. Your mind races, desperately seeking a way out of this nightmare.

In the dank cellar, Yurovsky instructs your family to line up against the wall. You find yourself between your younger siblings, instinctively trying to shield them even as your own knees threaten to give out.

“Wait,” you cry out as Yurovsky raises his hand to signal the firing squad. “Please, spare the children at least. They’re innocent in all this!”

Yurovsky’s face remains impassive. “There can be no Romanov heirs left to rally around. The old regime must end here and now.”

You turn to Lando, making one last desperate appeal. “Lando, please. If what we had meant anything to you, don’t let this happen. Help us!”

For a moment, you see the Lando you knew — the passionate young man who spoke of creating a better world, who held you under the stars and whispered promises of a future together. But then the revolutionary mask slips back into place.

“I’m sorry,” he says, his voice barely audible. “But this is bigger than us.”

As the soldiers raise their weapons, time seems to slow. You think of all the lives you might have lived — the futures now forever lost to you. A strange sense of déjà vu washes over you, as if you’ve faced death with Lando before.

“Ready!” Yurovsky’s voice cuts through your reverie.

You straighten your spine, determined to face your end with dignity. Your eyes find Lando’s one last time.

“Aim!”

“I forgive you,” you mouth silently, even as tears stream down your face.

You see Lando’s composure crack, anguish flooding his features. He takes a half-step forward, as if to intervene, but it’s too late.

“Fire!”

The basement erupts in a deafening cacophony of gunshots and screams. You feel a searing pain in your chest as bullets tear through you. As you crumple to the ground, your fading vision fixates on Lando’s horrified face.

With your last breath, you whisper, “Find me again.”

Then darkness claims you.

Lando stands frozen, unable to tear his eyes away from your lifeless form. The smokey smell of gunpowder mixes with the metallic scent of blood, turning his stomach.

“Finish them off,” Yurovsky orders dispassionately. “No survivors.”

As his comrades move forward with bayonets, Lando stumbles back, retching. He staggers up the stairs and out into the cool night air, gulping it down desperately.

What has he done?

He’d believed so fervently in the revolution, in the need to sweep away the old order to build a better world. But staring at his blood-stained hands, Lando feels nothing but horror and soul-crushing guilt.

Your final words haunt him. “Find me again.” But how can he, when he’s destroyed any chance of a future together?

As dawn breaks over Yekaterinburg, Lando makes a decision. He can’t undo what’s been done, but he can ensure the truth isn’t buried along with your body.

Over the coming weeks, as the Bolsheviks spread lies about your family’s fate, Lando works in secret to document what really happened. He gathers evidence, writes detailed accounts, and arranges for the information to be smuggled out of the country.

It’s a dangerous game. If caught, he’ll be branded a traitor to the revolution. But Lando no longer cares about ideology or politics. His only goal is to honor your memory and ensure that history remembers the truth.

Late one night, as he prepares to flee the country with his damning documents, Lando allows himself a moment of quiet reflection. He thinks of your smile, your compassion, the way you challenged him to see beyond his rigid beliefs.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers to the empty room. “I failed you in this life. But I swear, somehow, I’ll make it right. If there’s any justice in the universe, we’ll meet again. And next time, I’ll protect you. I’ll choose you over everything else.”

As he slips out into the night, Lando feels a strange sense of certainty. This isn’t the end of your story. Somehow, someway, you’ll find each other again.

The wheel of fate continues to turn, carrying your intertwined souls towards yet another lifetime. But with each cycle, the bond between you grows stronger. Perhaps next time, you’ll finally break free of this tragic pattern and find the happiness that’s eluded you for so long.

Jonestown, 1978

The humid Guyanese air hangs heavy over Jonestown, thick with tension and the cloying scent of tropical flowers. You stand among the gathered crowd, your heart pounding so hard you fear it might burst from your chest. Beside you, Lando’s hand finds yours, squeezing tightly.

“This isn’t right,” he murmurs, his voice barely audible over the droning speech coming from the pavilion. “We need to get out of here.”

You nod imperceptibly, not daring to speak. Jim Jones’ paranoid ravings have reached a fever pitch in recent days, and you both know that even the slightest hint of dissent could be deadly.

“My children,” Jones’ voice booms out over the loudspeakers, “the time has come for us to make our final stand against the oppressors who seek to destroy our paradise.”

A murmur ripples through the crowd. You scan the sea of faces, seeing a mix of blind devotion and barely concealed terror.

“Our Congressional visitors have betrayed us,” Jones continues, his words slurring slightly. “They will bring nothing but destruction. We have no choice but to enact our glorious revolutionary suicide.”

Your blood runs cold. You’d heard whispers of this plan, but had desperately hoped it was just another of Jones’ manipulative tactics.

“Lando,” you whisper urgently, “we have to run. Now.”

He nods, his face pale but determined. “Follow my lead. When I give the signal, we make a break for the jungle.”

But before you can move, you feel a vice-like grip on your arm. You turn to see your mother, her eyes wild with fervor.

“Where do you think you’re going?” She hisses. “This is our moment of triumph. You will not ruin it with your lack of faith.”

On Lando’s other side, his father has a similar hold on him. The older man’s face is a mask of grim resignation. “Don’t make this harder than it has to be, son,” he says quietly.

You watch in horror as Jones’ lieutenants begin distributing paper cups filled with a sinister purple liquid. The bitter almond smell of cyanide fills the air.

“No,” you breathe, struggling against your mother’s grip. “Mom, please. This is insanity. We don’t have to do this!”

But your pleas fall on deaf ears. Your mother’s grip only tightens as she accepts two cups from a passing aide.

“Drink,” she commands, thrusting one towards you.

You shake your head vehemently, clamping your mouth shut. Beside you, Lando is engaged in a similar struggle with his father.

“You can’t force us to do this!” Lando shouts, drawing the attention of nearby cult members. “This is murder!”

Jones’ voice cuts through the growing commotion. “Those who resist are traitors to our cause. They must be made to comply, for the good of all.”

Suddenly, you’re surrounded by a group of Jones’ most fanatical followers. Rough hands grab you, forcing your head back. You struggle wildly, but it’s no use. You feel the cold rim of the cup pressed against your lips.

“No!” Lando cries out, fighting to reach you. “Leave her alone!”

But he too is overwhelmed, multiple hands restraining him as the poisoned drink is forced upon him.

The sickly-sweet liquid burns your throat as it’s poured into your mouth. You choke and splutter, but can’t prevent some of it from going down. Beside you, Lando’s muffled cries tell you he’s suffering the same fate.

As the hands release you, you collapse to your knees, coughing violently. Your vision swims, the world taking on a surreal, nightmarish quality.

“Lando,” you gasp, reaching out blindly.

His hand finds yours, gripping it weakly. “I’m here,” he manages, his voice raw. “I’m so sorry. I couldn’t protect you.”

You crawl closer, fighting against the growing weakness in your limbs. All around, people are collapsing, some screaming in agony while others slip away in eerie silence.

“It’s not your fault,” you whisper, cupping Lando’s face with a trembling hand. “We never stood a chance against this madness.”

Lando’s eyes, clouded with pain, meet yours. “This can’t be how it ends,” he says desperately. “Not again.”

A strange sense of déjà vu washes over you. “Again?” You murmur, confused.

He nods weakly. “I don’t know how, but I feel like we’ve been here before. Facing death together, unable to stop it.”

As the poison works its way through your system, flashes of other lives flicker through your mind. Ancient Egypt, Pompeii, Salem, Russia — each time, finding each other only to be torn apart.

“I remember,” you breathe, wonder mingling with the pain. “We keep finding each other, but we never get our happy ending.”

Lando pulls you closer, both of you shaking with the effort of fighting off the inevitable. “Next time,” he vows, his voice barely above a whisper. “Next time we’ll break this cycle. We’ll find a way to be together.”

You manage a small, sad smile. “Promise?”

“I promise,” he murmurs, pressing a weak kiss to your forehead.

As consciousness begins to slip away, you cling to each other. The sounds of screaming and Jones’ maniacal laughter fade into the background. In these final moments, there is only you and Lando, and the love that has somehow endured across lifetimes.

“Find me again,” you whisper, echoing words spoken in another life.

Lando’s grip on your hand tightens fractionally. “Always,” he breathes.

As darkness closes in, you’re filled with a strange sense of hope. This tragic cycle can’t go on forever. Someday, somehow, you’ll find a way to break free and finally have the life together you’ve been denied so many times.

Your last thought, as you slip away, is a prayer to whatever cosmic force keeps bringing you together.

Next time, let it be different.

Next time, let us live.

And as your souls depart this tragic scene, unseen wheels of fate begin to turn once more. The cycle continues, but perhaps this time, with the weight of so many shared lifetimes behind you, you’ll finally find your way to a happier ending.

In the years that follow, as the horror of Jonestown is revealed to the world, two names are lost among the hundreds of victims. But your story — the story of a love that refuses to be extinguished — lives on, waiting for the next chapter to unfold.

Monaco, 2024

The soft glow of computer screens illuminates Lando’s face as he leans into his microphone, his eyes darting between the chat and his game. “No, chat, I’m not going to sing the Baby Shark song,” he chuckles, shaking his head. “You lot are absolutely mental, you know that?”

The door to his streaming room creaks open, and he glances over, his face softening into a warm smile as you pad in, wrapped in an oversized hoodie you’ve stolen from his wardrobe.

“Speaking of sharks,” Lando grins, addressing his audience, “look who’s decided to join us. It’s my favorite cuddly shark!”

You roll your eyes fondly at the nickname, a reference to your habit of playfully nipping at his shoulder when you’re feeling particularly affectionate. As you approach, Lando pushes his chair back slightly, making room for you to settle onto his lap.

“Come here, you,” he murmurs, wrapping an arm around your waist as you curl into him, burying your face in the crook of his neck. To his stream, he explains, “Sorry chat, the missus is feeling a bit clingy tonight. Not that I’m complaining, mind you.”

You mumble something unintelligible into his skin, making him laugh. “What was that, love? The stream can’t hear you when you’re trying to become one with my neck.”

Lifting your head slightly, you repeat, “I said, don’t let me interrupt your gaming. I just wanted cuddles.”

Lando presses a quick kiss to your forehead. “You’re never an interruption. Besides, I think the chat’s been asking for a cameo from you all night.”

You turn to face the camera, waving sleepily. “Hi, chat. Sorry I’m not more entertaining tonight. Long day at work.”

The chat explodes with greetings and well-wishes, scrolling by almost too fast to read. Lando chuckles, giving you a gentle squeeze. “See? They love you. Probably more than they love me, to be honest.”

“That’s fair,” you murmur, nuzzling back into his neck. “No one loves you more than I do.”

Lando’s breath catches for a moment, and you feel his heart rate pick up. Even after all this time together, simple declarations of love still affect him deeply. It’s one of the many things you adore about him.

“Alright, chat,” Lando says, his voice a touch huskier than before. “You’ve gone and made her all sappy. I hope you’re happy with yourselves.”

You can’t help but giggle at his attempt to deflect. “Oh please, you love it when I’m sappy.”

“Maybe,” he concedes with a grin. “But if I admit that, they’ll never let me hear the end of it. I have a reputation to maintain, you know.”

You snort inelegantly. “What reputation? Everyone knows you’re a big softie.”

“Oi!” Lando protests, poking you in the side and making you squirm. “I’ll have you know I’m very tough and manly. Right, chat?”

The stream erupts with a mix of agreement and playful disagreement, peppered with emotes and inside jokes. You watch the scrolling text with amusement, marveling at the community Lando has built.

“See?” Lando says triumphantly. “They agree with me.”

You raise an eyebrow. “I’m pretty sure at least half of those messages were sarcastic, babe.”

Lando waves a hand dismissively. “Details, details. The point is, I’m incredibly macho and not at all a softie.”

“Mmhmm,” you hum skeptically. “Is that why you cried watching Up last week?”

“Hey!” Lando exclaims, his cheeks flushing slightly. “That’s classified information, that is. You can’t just go revealing my secrets to the entire internet!”

The chat goes wild at this revelation, demanding to know more about Lando’s movie-watching habits. You can’t help but laugh at his mock-outraged expression.

“Sorry, love,” you say, not sounding sorry at all. “But if I have to put up with your sniffling during Disney movies, the least I can do is share the joy with your fans.”

Lando groans dramatically. “That’s it, I’m filing for divorce. Chat, you’re my witnesses. This is grounds for divorce, right? Revealing a man’s most intimate vulnerabilities?”

You roll your eyes fondly. “We’re not even married yet, you goof.”

The words slip out before you can think better of them, and suddenly the atmosphere in the room shifts. Lando’s eyes widen slightly, his gaze locking with yours.

“Yet?” He repeats softly, a note of wonder in his voice.

You feel your cheeks heat up, but you don’t look away. “Well, yeah. I mean, unless you had other plans?”

For a moment, Lando seems to forget entirely about the stream. His hand comes up to cup your cheek, thumb brushing gently across your skin. “No other plans,” he murmurs. “Just you. Always you.”

The intimacy of the moment is broken by the chat exploding once again, this time with a flurry of ring emotes and excited keysmashes. Lando blinks, seeming to remember where he is.

“Right,” he says, clearing his throat. “Well, chat, I think that’s my cue to end the stream for tonight. Got some, uh, important things to discuss with this one.”

You bury your face in his neck again, half embarrassed and half thrilled by the turn of events. As Lando rushes through his usual sign-off, you can feel the barely contained energy thrumming through him.

The moment the stream ends, Lando spins his chair to face you fully, his eyes bright with excitement. “Did you mean that?” He asks eagerly. “About the marriage thing?”

You lift your head, meeting his gaze with a soft smile. “Of course I did. Lando, I’ve loved you for lifetimes. There’s nothing I want more than to marry you.”

Something flashes in his eyes at your words — a fleeting moment of recognition, as if some long-buried memory is struggling to surface. But then it’s gone, replaced by pure joy.

“Lifetimes, huh?” He grins, pulling you closer. “Well, in that case, I suppose we better make this one count.”

As his lips meet yours in a tender kiss, you’re filled with an overwhelming sense of rightness. After so many tragic endings, you’ve finally found your happily ever after. And this time, you’re not letting go.

“I love you,” you murmur against his lips. “In this life and every other.”

Lando’s answering smile is radiant. “And I love you. Always have, always will.”

As you lose yourselves in each other’s embrace, the echoes of past lives fade away. This is your time, your chance at happiness. And you plan to make the most of every single moment.

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xoamiiren · 4 months ago

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MOONSTRUCK , ⋆｡°✩ 𓈒𓈒 crazy over you

𖥔 PRECIS. In which, sunghoon’s feelings for you start to feel like more than he can handle… PAIRING. smitten!sunghoon x tipsy!reader GENRE. fluff, suggestive WARNINGS. skinship, mild kissing, mentions of drinking

authors note ୨୧ I have nothing to say. get into it hoon!

─────────

You were… tipsy. Sunghoon knew that much. The proof was in the flush that colored your cheeks, a vivid contrast against your bonze-toned skin.

Despite the alcohol in both your systems, it didn’t take away from the fact that his mind was reeling.

The two of you had been in attendance for Jake’s birthday trip. A small , cozy gathering at his grandparent’s lakehouse for the weekend.

After a day filled with laughter, games, and a few drinks, the group had winded down for the night.

It was late, and you and Sunghoon were the last ones still awake, sitting on the porch talking under a shared fluffy blanket. It was nice… comforting. Just the two you, sharing quiet laughs and whispered stories under the stars.

But, Sunghoon couldn’t defy the nagging urge at the back of his mind to tell you. Tell you he was in love with you, so in love that it hurt.

It had started to get chilly, and with the others already asleep, you had both decided to move inside to a guest room with two twin beds—it was the only available space left.

Too relaxed to worry about where else to go, you agreed to take up the two beds, facing each other with drowsy eyes and lingering smiles.

As time passed, still laying in silence, Sunghoon couldn’t help but begin to toss and turn with the intention of sleep. The silence that was strangely comforting before, had started to become deafening, heavy with unspoken words.

Finally, Sunghoon rolled over to face you, his breath catching as he took in the sight of you blinking slowly, eyes glazed over yet intensely focused on him.

“You know…” His voice broke the silence, low and hesitant, almost drowned by the pounding of his own heart.

“Hm?” Your eyebrows arched, your gaze still locked on his, those large, innocent eyes piercing through the darkness.

“It’s… it’s nothing.” The courage he had mustered slipped away like sand through his fingers.

“What…?” your voice was soft, the edges frayed with weariness.

“I… really, it’s nothing.”

The silence returned, thicker this time, a suffocating blanket that wrapped around you both.

“Can you sleep now…? Are you sleepy…?” he murmured, voice hushed as though even in the solitude, someone might overhear.

“Mm…” you nodded, pushing yourself up to a sitting position, rubbing your eyes with a pout that made his heart tighten.

“I think I’ll sleep there.”

Sunghoon’s heart skipped a beat, then raced ahead as you slipped from your bed and into his own with a graceful clumsiness that only you could achieve.

When you landed with a soft thud, your noses were mere inches apart, your hushed giggles mingling with his own chuckles as you adjusted yourself under the covers, and rolled over so your back was pressing against his chest.

Warmth flooded Sunghoon’s senses, as if the bed weren’t already small enough. He prayed you could feel the frantic rhythm of his heartbeat against your back…

Feel how fast it was racing. How honest would that be?

You were so warm…

“Use my arm as a pillow…” he offered, his voice barely a whisper as you lifted your head to rest on his arm.

“Why…?” you asked, your voice a breathy murmur.

“So we can be closer…” he answered, the words tumbling out in a rush, his heart still pounding.

You stayed like that, the quiet punctuated only by the sound of your breathing, soft and steady. You shifted again, clearly in discomfort, and a breathy chuckle escaped Sunghoon’s lips.

“Why didn’t you bring your pillow over…?” he teased, propping himself up on one elbow to look down at you.

You glanced dismissively at the abandoned pillow on your abandoned bed before your gaze snapped back to him, piercing him to the core.

Your glassy eyes glittered under the moonlight streaming in through the window, long lashes casting delicate shadows on your flushed cheeks as you blinked slowly.

You were… breathtaking. Sunghoon’s heart constricted painfully at the sight of you.

Slowly, you reached up to smooth down your own bedhead, and without thinking, Sunghoon followed suit, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear with trembling fingers.

Your eyes never wavered from his, tracing his every feature, studying him with an intensity that left him breathless.

What were you thinking? He could never tell, and as of right now… he was desperate.

You blinked slowly, your lips parting as you finally broke the thickening silence.

“Is this… not a good idea?” your voice was soft, laced with innocence yet tinged with a challenge, your doe eyes searching his own for an answer.

“No…” His voice was hoarse, his throat dry, but he kept his gaze steady on yours.

“It’s good.” He added, pulling the comforter snugly around you both.

“Hm?” you hummed, your eyebrows lifting ever so slightly in curiosity.

“It’s definitely good…” he repeated, his words barely more than a breath.

You smiled then, a fleeting, gentle curve of your lips before your expression softened once more, your eyes large and unblinking.

Sunghoon fought to contain himself, the air between them thick with tension, every innocent thought he tried to hold onto slipping away. God, you were divine.

So pretty, it hurt.

You pulled the covers tighter around your chest, your hands disappearing beneath them. Just then, Sunghoon could feel your cool, slender fingers intertwining with his.

The touch seemed almost electric, almost overwhelming, as you slowly and carefully guided his hand down the length of your body, the soft fabric of your sleep shirt barely a barrier to the heat of your skin, which felt like a burn the moment you guided his hand beneath it.

His heart thundered in his chest, anticipation and desire warring within him, but he never broke eye contact.

Your gaze dared him, testing his resolve with a demure boldness that sent shivers down his spine.

His breath caught as your hand guided his lower, fingers brushing the waistband of your shorts. He watched your expression shift ever so subtly, your lips falling open the slightest bit more, your eyes darkening with something he couldn’t quite name, and yet the innocence remained.

Your head tilted back faintly, almost in a pleading nod when he pressed his fingers down to apply pressure, his palm settling on your lower belly.

Feeling the warmth of your skin beneath his touch, the tension in the air was almost unbearable.

Finally, Sunghoon tore his gaze from yours, letting out a shaky breath as his head fell back onto the pillow you now shared, his hand slipping from your grasp.

You watched him, silent, your chest rising and falling with a matching intensity.

You were nervous, scared…? Excited?

Sunghoon raked a hand through his hair, a pained laugh escaping his lips as he groaned in frustration, draping a heavy arm across your waist.

“(Y/n)…” he whispered, your name like a prayer on his lips.

The bashful grin on his face failed to go away, he could feel the warmth of a fresh blush dancing across his cheeks and up to the tips of his ears.

You said nothing, simply turning your head away and closing your eyes, seeking solace in sleep, an escape from the tension threatening to suffocate you both.

Sunghoon lay still, staring into the dimness of the room, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts.

He tugged at the covers, fidgeting restlessly, squeezing his eyes shut in a desperate bid for sleep.

But the racing of his heart wouldn’t let him rest.

He sat up once more, needing air, needing water, needing…

And then, your eyes fluttered open as you looked up at him again. Without a word, you grabbed his chin, pulling him down into a kiss that stole his breath away.

Sunghoon’s heart nearly exploded, a small sound of surprise catching in his throat as he melted into the kiss, your soft hum of pleasure reverberating through him.

Suddenly you shifted, and it was Sunghoon lying on his back, your lips never leaving his until you broke away, straddling him with careful, deliberate movements, as if afraid of causing him harm.

His heart swelled with emotion as he gazed up at you, completely captivated by the girl who had just turned his world upside down.

“Did I keep you waiting…?” you whisper, expression filled with worry despite your rose dusted cheeks.

“So long… I waited so long.”, Sunghoon teased, squeezing the soft flesh of your thighs as you giggled softly and captured his lips again.

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jmliebert · 7 months ago

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♡ halsin longing for you (your scent makes him forget himself) ♡

I got inspired by the lovely image by @daichouno and I thought I'll share it here... along with my little interpretation

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

He knew it was wrong, knew he shouldn't, but the urge was overwhelming, almost primal.

The thought was fleeting as he stepped closer, the smell of dirty clothes mingling with the earthy scent of the forest. His keen senses picked up a faint, familiar fragrance, and his heart skipped a beat. Buried beneath the mundane fabrics was something that belonged to Tav, something that carried her intoxicating scent.

With a swift, almost guilty glance around the camp, Halsin reached into the basket and pulled out a pair of Tav's panties. He could already feel his cock stirring, the anticipation making his blood run hot. Clutching the delicate fabric in his large hands, he made his way back to his tent.

Then he sank to his knees, the panties held reverently before him. He brought them to his nose and inhaled deeply, the musky, sweet scent of Tav filling his lungs. His eyes fluttered closed as a low growl rumbled in his chest. His cock twitched in response, hardening further with each breath he took. His knees got weak.

I’m too old for this

The thought was laughable as he nuzzled the soft fabric, his age irrelevant in the face of such desire. He was over 350 years old, a seasoned druid with countless lovers in his past, yet none had ever made him feel this way. None had ever driven him to such desperate, feral need.

Every touch, every accidental brush of Tav’s skin against his, sent jolts of electric pleasure through him. Sitting side by side by the campfire, their knees touching, made him stiffen, his skin prickle with longing. He wanted more than just the camaraderie of shared meals and stories. He wanted to possess her, to claim her as his own. But he couldn’t. Not now.

His tongue flicked out, hesitantly at first, tasting the fabric where her essence lingered, where Tav's sweet pussy touched it. The salty, slightly sweet taste made him groan, and he licked it again, taking a long stroke this time. His mind went blank, consumed by the sensory overload of their scent and taste.

so delicious...

The thought reverberated through his mind as he pressed the panties to his lips, his breaths becoming shallow and ragged. His cock throbbed painfully, leaking precum as he reached down to grasp it. He began to stroke himself slowly, the friction sending shivers of pleasure up his spine. He shut his eyes close and with brows furrowed he imagined Tav beneath him, imagined her soft moans and gasps as he took her. His hips moving with need.

His knot began to swell, his climax near. Halsin’s strokes became more urgent, more forceful, his hips thrusting into his hand. He could see it so clearly in his mind – Tav's eyes wide with surprise and pleasure, their body trembling beneath him as he filled her completely.

As his release approached, he guided his swollen cockhead to the panties. With a final, powerful thrust, he came, his hot seed spilling onto the place he had licked so thoroughly. He grunted, his breath coming in harsh pants as he milked his cock, ensuring every drop of his cum marked the cloth.

His other hand tightened around his knot, the sensation almost too much to bear. Finally, spent and sated, Halsin laid down on his back, the panties still clutched in his hand and soaking wet. Their scents mixing on them, giving Halsin strange sense of comfort.

At least for now.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

you can find more of my works about halsin ♡here♡

the image I posted belong to @daichouno (!) go to their account and give them some love because omg what an artist

#bg3 halsin #halsin smut #bg3 headcanons #bg3 #bg3 romance #bg3 halsin imagine #halsin silverbough #halsin x tav #halsin x you #halsin imagine #halsin headcanons #bg3 smut #daddy halsin #daichouno

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hanniewho · 7 days ago

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⋆˚࿔I'll meet your eyes, I mean this forever 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

⋆˚࿔ Summary: You're feeling insecure about your body, and Vi found out about it and helped you to feel loved and desired.

𝜗𝜚˚⋆ Notes: I should make a tagliatelle sp I could tag yall and I take the title from a song called demolition lovers. I love it sm bro oh and yes I switch the colors of my acc bcos why not

𐙚˙✧˖° Words: 6.1k

༘ ⋆｡ ˚ Warnings: Comfort sex, Cunnilungus (r receiving), Fingering (r receiving), Squirting, Body worshipping, Mention of porn, Using vibrator, Strap-on mentioned.

⋆✦ Pairings: Vi x Afab reader

You were standing in front of the full-length mirror in your shared bedroom, scrutinizing your reflection with a critical eye. The soft glow of the evening light cast a warm, comforting hue over your rounded curves and the way your favorite shirt clung gently to your frame. Your hand traced the line of your waist, pausing briefly to tug at the fabric that had grown snug over your belly. It wasn't something you dwelt on often, but tonight, you found yourself wishing you felt a bit more...desirable.

Vi, your girlfriend, barged in without knocking, a knowing smile playing on her lips. She had a knack for sensing your moods, and she could tell that something was on your mind. "What's up, cupcake?" she teased, tossing her headphones onto the bed.

You spun around, your cheeks flushing a deep shade of pink. "It's nothing," you mumbled, trying to brush off your insecurity. But Vi knew you better than that. She stepped closer, her gaze softening as she took in the way you held yourself. "You know you're beautiful, right?" she said, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder.

Her touch was surprisingly gentle, a stark contrast to the fierce exterior she often presented to the world. "But I...I just don't look like the girls you usually go for," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. You had always envied the lean, athletic figures that Vi was drawn to.

Vi's smile grew, a hint of mischief sparkling in her eyes. "Is that what you think?" she asked, her hand sliding down to grip your waist. "You're perfect just the way you are," she murmured, pulling you closer until there was no space between your bodies. You could feel the warmth radiating from her, and your heart skipped a beat.

Her touch sent a jolt of electricity through you, making you acutely aware of every sensation. You looked up into her eyes, searching for any sign of mockery, but all you saw was sincerity and desire. For a moment, you just stood there, frozen, trying to process what was happening.

Then, before you could overthink it, you leaned into her embrace. Vi's arms tightened around you, and she kissed you, her lips pressing firmly against yours. It was a kiss that spoke of passion and longing, a kiss that told you she had felt this way for a long time. Your hands found their way to her back, exploring the muscles beneath her shirt as she deepened the kiss. You felt a strange mix of excitement and comfort, a feeling you hadn't experienced in a long time.

You broke away to catch your breath, staring at her in disbelief. "Does this mean..." you started, but Vi cut you off with another kiss, more urgent than the last. "It means I've wanted you for as long as I can remember," she murmured against your lips.

Her words sent a thrill through you, and you wrapped your arms around her neck, pulling her closer. Vi's hands roamed over your body, tracing the contours of your hips and thighs. You felt a warmth spread through you, and suddenly, all your insecurities melted away. You were here, with Vi, and she wanted you.

The kiss grew more intense, your tongues tangling together as you explored the depths of each other's mouths. You could feel her excitement pressing into your stomach, and a matching heat began to build within you. Vi's hands began to unbutton your shirt, her touch growing more urgent. She peeled the fabric away, revealing the soft flesh beneath, and you shivered at the coolness of the air against your skin.

"Vi, wait," you managed to breathe, a hint of panic lacing your voice. You tried to cover yourself with your arms, suddenly aware of your vulnerability. But Vi just chuckled and gently pushed them aside, her eyes full of adoration. "You're so beautiful," she murmured, her voice husky with desire. "Don't hide from me."

Her words had a soothing effect, and you let your arms drop to your sides, allowing her to appreciate your body. Vi's gaze lingered on your chest, her pupils dilating as she took in the sight of your full breasts, the peaks of your nipples tight with anticipation. She reached out and cupped one gently, her thumb circling the sensitive flesh, sending waves of pleasure through your body. You gasped, arching into her touch.

"Vi..." you whined, your voice thick with need. "I'm not..." but she didn't let you finish.

"Not what?" she asked, her voice low and seductive as she leaned down to kiss your neck, her breath hot against your skin. "Not skinny? Not fit?" She paused, her teeth grazing your earlobe, sending a shiver down your spine. "You're perfect to me."

With a gentle nudge, Vi pushed you towards the bed, her strong hands guiding you until you were lying back on the soft mattress. Your heart pounded in your chest as she hovered over you, her eyes never leaving yours. She trailed kisses down your chest, her tongue flicking out to taste the salty sweetness of your skin. You felt your body respond, your breasts growing heavier, your nipples hardening further as she approached them.

When her mouth finally closed around one, you couldn't help the moan that escaped you. The sensation was exquisite, her teeth grazing lightly as she suckled. You tangled your fingers in her short hair, pulling slightly as the pleasure grew more intense. Vi's other hand found its way to your other breast, teasing and caressing in time with her mouth's rhythm.

You felt your body come alive under her touch, every inch of your skin begging for more. "Vi," you whispered, "please..." and she seemed to understand what you needed without words. She kissed her way down your stomach, her tongue tracing the lines of your belly, pausing at your navel to swirl around the sensitive dip. Your stomach quivered in response, your body growing wet with anticipation.

When she reached the waistband of your pants, Vi looked up at you with a question in her eyes. You nodded, giving her the permission she sought. With a deft hand, she unbuttoned them, sliding them down your legs with a gentle insistence. You were now exposed before her, feeling more vulnerable than ever, but also more alive than you had in a very long time.

"Vi, no," you protested, trying to sit up, but she held your arm firmly. "I wanna make you feel good too." The determination in your voice was clear. You didn't just want to be the recipient of her affections; you wanted to give back, to show her that you weren't just taking but also capable of giving pleasure.

Vi chuckled, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Well, cupcake," she said, her voice dropping to a low purr, "I want you to lay back and take what I give you. I want to show you how pretty you are." She pushed you gently down onto the bed, and you felt a strange mix of excitement and trepidation.

Her hands moved to the waistband of your panties, tugging them down slowly, inch by inch, her gaze never leaving yours. "Now spread those pretty legs for me, yeah?" she instructed, her voice a soft growl. You complied, feeling a thrill run through you as the cool air hit your exposed skin.

Vi's eyes raked over your thighs, her gaze lingering on the stretch marks that crisscrossed your skin, reminders of the battles your body had endured. But instead of seeing them as flaws, she leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to one, then another, trailing her lips over each line as if they were the most precious of treasures. The tender gesture brought tears to your eyes, and you felt a weight lift from your chest.

Her thumbs spread your legs wider, exposing your most intimate parts to her hungry gaze. You felt a blush creep up your neck, but Vi didn't seem to care about any of the things you were so self-conscious about. Her eyes were filled with a fiery passion that made you feel like you were the only person in the world. "You're so wet for me," she murmured, her voice thick with lust.

With a grin that was both playful and predatory, she leaned in and kissed your folds, her tongue darting out to taste your arousal. "Mmm," she hummed, "I wonder how gorgeous you're gonna look when you squirt." The thought sent a bolt of excitement through you, and your body responded with a jolt, your hips bucking upward. Vi chuckled, her breath hot against your skin.

Her mouth closed around your clit, her teeth grazing the sensitive nub as she began to suck, sending waves of pleasure crashing through you. You bit your lip to keep from screaming, your hands clutching at the bedcovers. Your body felt like it was on fire, every nerve ending alight with sensation. You had never felt this way before, so utterly consumed by desire.

Vi looked up at you, her eyes dark with lust, and murmured, "Let it out, baby, I wanna hear you." The sound of her voice, so confident and commanding, gave you the push you needed. You let go of the last of your inhibitions, arching your back and crying out as she worked her magic.

Her mouth was a masterpiece of pleasure, her tongue circling and flicking against your clit with an expertise that left you gasping for air. You felt the pressure building, your body coiling tighter and tighter with every passing second. Your eyes squeezed shut as you focused on the sensations, trying to hold on just a little longer, to savor every moment of this exquisite torment.

But the dam broke, and you shuddered, your thighs clamping around Vi's head as your orgasm washed over you. She didn't relent, continuing her ministrations as your body spasmed, riding the waves of pleasure until you collapsed, boneless, onto the bed.

Breathing heavily, you opened your eyes to find Vi looking up at you with a smug smile. "See?" she said, her voice smoky and satisfied. "Perfect."

You couldn't argue with that. Your body felt like it had been rewired, every nerve ending pulsing with new life. You watched as she licked her lips, tasting you, and the sight of it was almost too much to handle. Your thighs, which had been squeezing her head, relaxed, allowing her to sit up. She leaned over you, placing a gentle kiss on your belly, making you squirm with the lingering aftershocks of your climax.

"Hey, cupcake?" Vi asked, her voice a smoky purr that sent shivers down your spine. "Can I ask you a favor?" She had moved up the bed and was now straddling one of your legs, her weight pressing down on your thigh in a way that was both comforting and exciting.

You nodded, still trying to catch your breath. "Anything," you managed to say, your voice barely more than a whisper.

Vi's grin grew even wider, and she scooted back on the bed, laying down and patting her face with her hands. "Sit on my face, pretty girl," she said, her voice low and filled with want.

You stared at her, your own desire battling with your shock and confusion. But the heat in her eyes was undeniable, and you felt your body respond, eager to explore this new side of your relationship. With trembling legs, you straddled her face, feeling the warmth of her breath on your inner thighs. You took a deep breath and lowered yourself onto her, her nose nestling in your folds.

Vi's mouth wasted no time, her tongue sliding over your swollen clit with a hunger that took you by surprise. You threw your head back and moaned, the sensation of her tongue lapping at you making you feel like you were floating. Her hands gripped your hips, guiding your movements, urging you closer as she devoured you with a ferocity that was both thrilling and a little scary.

"Vi, no..." you whined, trying to push yourself up, but she was having none of it. Her arms wrapped around your thighs, holding you in place as her mouth worked its magic. You could feel yourself growing wetter with every flick of her tongue, and the sound of her smacking against your skin filled the room, making your face burn with a mix of pleasure and embarrassment.

Vi looked up at you, her eyes glazed with desire, and she pulled you down harder, forcing your plump cheeks to engulf her face completely. "Shh," she murmured against your flesh, her voice muffled but clear. "Just let me make you feel good." And with that, she buried her nose in your folds, inhaling deeply.

The sensation was overwhelming, and you couldn't help but let out a moan, the vibrations echoing through your core. Vi's tongue began to explore you, tracing the length of your slit before delving deeper, tasting every part of you. You felt her teeth graze your clit, sending a bolt of pleasure straight to your core. "More," you moaned, your hips rocking gently against her face.

Her grip on your thighs tightened as she complied, her tongue swirling around your clit with a relentless rhythm that had you panting for breath. Your hands found their way to her hair, gripping tight as she worked you closer to the edge. The room was filled with the sound of your gasps and the wet noises of her mouth on your skin. It was carnally erotic, a symphony of passion that had your toes curling with every stroke.

Vi's tongue delved deeper, penetrating you with a gentle ease that made you realize just how much she knew your body. It was as if she had been waiting for this moment, studying every curve and dip, every spot that made you shiver with pleasure. You felt her teeth graze the sensitive flesh of your inner thighs, biting down just hard enough to make you gasp. The mix of pleasure and pain was intoxicating, a heady cocktail that had your hips grinding against her face.

Her tongue found your G-spot, the slick muscle that sent bolts of ecstasy through your body. She flicked it, the sensation setting your nerves alight, making you tremble uncontrollably. You could feel yourself getting closer, the tension in your belly tightening like a coil about to spring. "Vi, I'm...I'm going to...oh God," you panted, your voice shaking with need.

Vi's only response was to double her efforts, her tongue curling against that magical spot with a fervor that left you breathless. You felt yourself begin to spasm, your orgasm building like a crescendo. With a final, desperate cry, you shuddered, your body giving in to the waves of pleasure that washed over you. Vi's mouth remained on you, her tongue lapping up every drop of your release as if it was the sweetest nectar she had ever tasted.

Finally, she pulled away, her face glistening with your arousal. She licked her lips, a contented look in her eyes. "Mmm," she murmured, "you taste like heaven." The words sent a warm flush through you, making you feel more desired than you ever had before. You slumped down onto the bed, your legs quivering with the aftermath of your climax.

Vi climbed over you, her body straddling yours, and you could feel the warmth of her against your sensitive skin. She leaned down and captured your mouth in a deep, hungry kiss, sharing the taste of your passion with you. Her hands roamed over your curves, exploring every inch of your body as if it was a map she had been dying to uncover.

Her palms slid up your sides, cupping your breasts and kneading them gently, her thumbs circling your nipples until they were pebble-hard. You moaned into her mouth, the sensation of her touch sending shivers down your spine. Her hips rocked against yours, and you felt her own desire, her need pressing into you insistently.

Breaking the kiss, Vi reached for the hem of her shirt, pulling it over her head to reveal the taut muscles of her stomach and the firm mounds of her breasts. You couldn't help but stare, the sight of her bare skin making your heart race. "Like what you see?" she teased, her voice thick with desire.

You nodded, unable to form words as you took in the sight of her. Vi's body was a masterpiece of strength and power, a stark contrast to your softness. But in this moment, you didn't feel any less desirable. In fact, you felt more so, knowing that she wanted you just as much as you wanted her.

With trembling hands, you reached up to trace the lines of her abs, feeling the firm muscles beneath your fingertips. Vi's skin was hot to the touch, and she moaned as you touched her. You felt a thrill of power, knowing that you could affect her so deeply. Your hands moved to the button of her pants, and you fumbled with the clasp, eager to feel more of her.

But she had other ideas. With surprising gentleness, she pushed your hand away. "Relax, cupcake," she murmured, her voice thick with desire. "Just lay down and enjoy the view." You obeyed, your body feeling heavy with need as you laid back on the pillows. Vi took your wrists in her hands, her grip firm but not unkind, and placed them above your head.

Her eyes never left yours as she unbuckled her pants, the sound of the zipper echoing through the room. She slid them off, revealing her own arousal, and you felt your own desire spike in response. She was so confident, so sure of herself, and it was incredibly arousing. She climbed back over you, her legs straddling your hips, and you couldn't help but stare at her.

Her pubic hair was a soft, downy mess against your skin, tickling you in the most sensitive of places, making you squirm with delight. It was a stark contrast to the bare, waxed girls you had seen in magazines and porn, and you found yourself fascinated by the way it felt. It was real, it was hers, and it was incredibly sexy.

Vi began to grind her pussy against yours, her clit rubbing against your own in a slow, deliberate motion that had your eyes rolling back in your head. The feeling was exquisite, a new form of pleasure that you hadn't experienced before. It was intimate and raw, and you felt a connection to her that went beyond just physical attraction.

Her hand slid down to your clit, her thumb pressing against it in time with her movements. You bucked your hips up, trying to increase the friction, and she chuckled, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Greedy," she murmured, her voice a low growl that sent shivers down your spine. She increased her pace, the slick sounds of your bodies moving together filling the room.

Your breathing grew ragged as the pressure built, your eyes locked on hers. You could see the desire in them, the hunger for more, and it only served to drive you closer to the edge. Her free hand trailed up your body, her fingers dancing over your skin before finding your right nipple. She pinched it lightly, rolling it between her thumb and forefinger, the sensation making you gasp.

Vi's movements grew more urgent, her hips moving faster as she rubbed against you. The heat between your legs was stifling, the scent of your arousal heavy in the air. You felt your body responding, your own wetness slick against her thighs, a testament to how much you wanted her. "Vi," you whimpered, your voice needy and desperate.

"Come for me, cupcake," she whispered, her eyes locked on yours. "I wanna see that pretty face of yours when you cum." Her words sent a fresh wave of arousal through you, and you felt yourself getting closer to the edge. Your hands clenched the bedcovers, your knuckles white with the effort of holding back.

But the anticipation was too much, and with a final grind against her, you shattered. Your back arched, your eyes squeezed shut as pleasure washed over you in waves. Vi watched with a satisfied smile as your face contorted with ecstasy, her own desire growing with every whimper and gasp that escaped your lips.

"Yeah, like that, baby," she cooed, her voice thick with lust. "Oh, you're so pretty when you cum." The sound of her praise sent a warm glow through you, and you felt a newfound confidence in your body, in your ability to give and receive pleasure.

As the last of your orgasm subsided, Vi leaned down, capturing your mouth in a passionate kiss, sharing the taste of your arousal. Her tongue danced with yours, her body still moving against yours in a slow, sensual rhythm. You could feel her own need, the heat and wetness of her pussy grinding against yours, and it only served to stoke the fires of your desire once more.

Her hand slid from your wrists to your waist, her fingers digging into your flesh as she pulled herself closer. You felt the weight of her breasts pressing into your chest, the feeling sending a fresh jolt of pleasure through you. Your hands moved to her hips, holding her in place as she continued to rock against you.

"Vi," you whined, your voice filled with a mix of pleasure and exhaustion, "I just came-" But she didn't stop, her own hips bucking harder, her breath coming in ragged gasps. "I know, baby," she murmured against your neck, her teeth grazing your skin. "But I need to feel you cum again."

With a wicked grin, she leaned down to whisper in your ear, her breath hot against your skin. "I will fuck you until you feel pretty," she said, her voice a low growl that sent a shiver down your spine. "You got that, cupcake?" The promise in her words was like a drug, and you found yourself nodding, eager for more.

Vi's smile grew wider as she pecked the tip of your nose, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "Good girl," she murmured, her voice a gentle caress. It was a simple act, one that was filled with affection and ownership, a silent declaration of her intent to cherish every part of you. It sent a thrill through your body, making you feel more alive than you ever had before.

Her movements grew more deliberate, her hips grinding against you in a rhythm that matched the beating of your heart. You could feel yourself getting wetter with every stroke, your body begging for more of her touch. "Please, Vi," you gasped, your voice a desperate plea.

Vi's smile grew wider as she leaned down, her eyes locked on yours. "Tell me what you want," she whispered, her voice a seductive purr that made you quiver. "Say it, baby."

You took a deep breath, feeling a blush creep over your cheeks. "I want...I want you to...to fuck me," you finally managed to say, the words feeling strange and powerful on your lips.

Vi's eyes darkened, and she gave you a predatory smile. "With what?" she asked, her voice a low rumble.

You swallowed hard, trying to keep your voice steady. "With your...strap-on," you whispered, feeling a thrill of excitement and nerves.

Vi's smile grew even wider, if that was possible, and she leaned down to cup your face in her strong hands. "Baby," she murmured, her thumbs tracing over your cheekbones, "today, I just wanna worship you, not rearrange your organs. You deserve that, don't you?"

You nodded, feeling a mix of relief and disappointment. "But, Vi," you protested weakly, "I want you to feel good, too."

Vi's smile softened, and she leaned in to kiss you tenderly. "Trust me, I am," she murmured against your lips. "But tonight, it's all about you."

With surprising grace, she climbed off you, moving to the side of the bed. She rummaged through the nightstand drawer, her eyes glinting with excitement as she pulled out a velvety pouch. She turned to face you, holding it out like a treasure. "Let's see what we have here," she said, her voice filled with a playful tone.

You watched with bated breath as she unzipped the pouch, revealing an impressive collection of sex toys. Your eyes widened at the sight, a mix of curiosity and nerves swirling in your stomach. Vi noticed your expression and chuckled, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Don't worry, cupcake," she said, "I've got just the right thing for you."

Her hand hovered over the collection before finally settling on a sleek, pink vibrator. "This one's my favorite," she murmured, turning it on. The buzzing filled the room, sending a shiver down your spine. She brought it closer to your ear, and you felt the vibrations tickle your skin. "It's got different settings," she explained, "so we can find one that makes you scream."

Vi positioned the toy at your entrance, her eyes never leaving yours. She slid it in gently, watching as your eyes widened with shock and pleasure. The vibrations were intense, sending waves of pleasure through you that made your toes curl. She began to move it in and out, the sensation making you feel like you were floating on a cloud of bliss.

"Is that good, baby?" she asked, her voice filled with genuine concern. You nodded, unable to form coherent words as she hit a spot inside you that made your vision swim. She twisted the vibrator, the sensations changing, and you gasped, your body tensing with the newfound ecstasy.

"Vi, mmmm, more," you whined, your voice needy and desperate. She chuckled, the sound sending another tremor through you. "Greedy little thing," she murmured, her thumb circling your clit as she pumped the toy in and out of you.

The vibrations grew stronger, and you felt your body responding, your hips lifting off the bed to meet each thrust. Vi's eyes never left yours, watching you intently as she worked the toy, her other hand playing with your breasts. The sensation was overwhelming, and you felt your second climax approaching like a freight train.

With a gentle touch, she placed a hand on your plump stomach, pushing you back down onto the bed. "Ah, ah, ah, relax, cupcake," she cooed, her voice a sweet symphony of reassurance. You took a deep breath, feeling the mattress conform to your body as you allowed yourself to be held in place by her firm grip. Her fingers traced lazy circles over your belly, sending shivers through your body.

Vi's eyes never left yours as she continued to manipulate the vibrator, her thumb now playing with the sensitive bundle of nerves at your center. You could feel your orgasm building again, the pressure in your belly growing tighter with each pulse of the toy. "Vi, I...I think I'm gonna-" you began, but she shushed you, her eyes twinkling with excitement.

Without warning, she leaned down, her mouth capturing one of your nipples. She sucked hard, the sensation making you gasp as she rolled the other between her thumb and forefinger. "Cum for me, cupcake," she murmured, her breath hot against your skin. "Let me feel you tighten around my toy."

Her words sent a fresh wave of desire crashing over you, and you felt your pussy clench around the vibrator in response. Vi's eyes grew darker, her movements more urgent as she watched your body react to her commands. She switched to the other nipple, her teeth grazing the sensitive flesh, making you arch your back.

"Vi, oh God, it's...it's too much," you moaned, your body on the brink of ecstasy. She chuckled, the vibrations increasing in intensity. "It's never too much, baby," she murmured, her eyes never leaving yours. "You can take it, I know you can."

Her words were like a command, and your body responded with a fervor that surprised even you. You felt the orgasm building, a crescendo of pleasure that threatened to consume you whole. Vi's hand worked in tandem with the toy, her thumb pressing down on your clit as the vibrations grew stronger. The combination was exquisite torture, and you couldn't help but moan louder, the sound echoing through the room.

The tension grew, coiling tighter and tighter until it was a live wire, ready to snap. Then, with a cry that was half-moan, half-scream, you came, your body spasming around the vibrator. Vi's eyes never left yours, watching with a look of pure satisfaction as your climax washed over you. The vibrator remained inside you, the sensations too much to handle, but you didn't ask her to stop. Instead, you clung to the edge of the bed, your knuckles white as you rode out the waves of pleasure.

Vi's movements grew more deliberate, her hand pumping the toy in and out of you with a rhythm that was almost mesmerizing. She switched the setting again, and the vibrations grew more intense, making you squirm under her touch. "Do you like that?" she murmured, her voice a gentle purr that only added to the eroticism of the moment.

You nodded, unable to speak as the pleasure grew. "Mm-hmm," you managed to get out, your voice barely a whisper. Vi chuckled, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. "Good girl," she praised, her thumb pressing harder against your clit. "You're doing so well."

Her hand moved the vibrator in a slow, deliberate pattern, the varying speeds and intensities making you feel like you were on the verge of a third orgasm. It was as if she was conducting your body's symphony of pleasure, and you were the instrument she played masterfully. Each pulse of the toy sent waves of ecstasy crashing over you, leaving you breathless and trembling.

Vi leaned down to whisper in your ear, her hot breath sending shivers down your neck. "I want you to cum again, baby," she urged, her voice a seductive growl that sent a fresh jolt of arousal through your core. You nodded, eager to please her, eager for the next peak of pleasure. She increased the vibrations once more, the buzzing growing louder, more insistent.

Your eyes rolled back in your head as the sensations grew, the vibrator filling you completely, the vibrations resonating through your entire being. Vi's thumb never left your clit, the constant pressure driving you wild with need. You felt your body tense, the coil of pleasure in your belly tightening once again.

"Vi, I'm...I'm gonna...oh, please," you panted, your voice a desperate plea. Vi's grip on the vibrator grew firmer, her eyes locked on your face as she pushed you closer and closer to the edge. "Cum for me, cupcake," she whispered, her voice a seductive promise. "Let go."

With a final, almost painful twist of the vibrator, your body obeyed, your muscles spasming around the toy as a gush of wetness spurted from your pussy. The sensation was unlike anything you had ever felt before, a sudden release that took you by surprise. Vi gasped as the warm fluid hit her face, her eyes going wide before she leaned back to watch the show, her mouth hanging open.

Tears streamed down your face, a mix of pleasure and pain as your body shuddered through the most intense orgasm of your life. Vi looked shocked, her eyes wide with amazement as she took in the sight of your face, contorted in ecstasy. She gently slid the vibrator out of you, setting it aside with trembling hands. The sudden absence of the intense vibrations left you feeling empty, but the pleasure still lingered, like an aftershock following an earthquake.

Vi leaned over, her eyes filled with concern as she studied your reaction. "Are you okay?" she asked, her voice soft and gentle. You nodded, unable to find the words to describe the whirlwind of sensations that had just swept through you. She kissed you softly, her tongue tracing the contours of your mouth as you both caught your breath.

When the tremors had subsided, she pulled back, her eyes searching yours. "Was that...was that okay?" she asked, her voice filled with a vulnerability you hadn't heard from her before. You managed to give her a weak smile, the corners of your eyes still glistening with tears. "More than okay," you murmured, your voice hoarse.

Her expression softened, and she leaned down to kiss away your tears. Her touch was gentle, tender, as if you were made of the most fragile glass. You felt yourself melt into the kiss, your body still pulsing with the aftershocks of pleasure. When she pulled away, she looked at you with something akin to awe. "You're so beautiful," she whispered, her thumbs tracing the curve of your cheekbones.

Vi's eyes roamed over your flushed body, taking in every detail of your curvy form. She leaned back, her hands sliding down to caress the soft flesh of your stomach. "You're perfect," she murmured, her voice thick with desire. "So fucking perfect."

You felt your cheeks heat up, a mix of pride and disbelief at her words. "I'm not," you protested weakly, but she silenced you with a kiss, her tongue delving into your mouth with a hunger that left you breathless. "You're mine, cupcake," she whispered against your lips, her teeth nipping at the sensitive skin. "All of you."

Her strong arms wrapped around you, pulling you into the warmth of her chest. You felt the steady beat of her heart against yours, the reassurance of her embrace seeping into your very soul. "I'll be damned if you say you're not pretty enough," she murmured, her voice a gentle rumble that made you melt into her. "You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

Her words washed over you like a warm wave, filling you with a sense of belonging and acceptance you had never experienced before. Vi's confidence in your beauty was intoxicating, and you found yourself believing her. You allowed her to pull you closer, her fingers tracing patterns on your back as she kissed the top of your head.

Her hand moved lower, her palm cupping your ass, squeezing gently. "You know, I've always had a thing for a nice, round ass," she murmured, her voice a seductive whisper. You blushed, but instead of pulling away, you pushed back into her touch, feeling a thrill of desire at her words. It was as if she had found the key to unlock every inch of your body, making you crave her touch in ways you had never thought possible.

Vi's fingers began to knead, her touch firm and sure as she explored the softness of your curves. She leaned in, her breath hot against your ear. "And next time," she said, her voice a promise, "I'll use the strap-on you like so much." The thought sent a bolt of arousal through you, and you couldn't help but moan at the thought. You felt a rush of wetness between your legs, your body already eager for the next round of pleasure she would give you.

Vi chuckled at your reaction, her grip tightening on your ass. "But for now," she said, her voice a gentle command, "I just want to hold you." You nodded, feeling the warmth of her body enveloping you. It was strange, but you felt more connected to her than you had ever felt to anyone else. Her acceptance of your body, her worship of it, had broken down the walls of self-consciousness that had plagued you for so long.

Her hands began to roam again, her fingers dancing over your skin as if it were the strings of a finely tuned instrument. She traced the curve of your hips, the dip of your waist, the swell of your breasts. Each touch was a declaration of love, a silent promise to cherish and adore every inch of you. You felt yourself growing more and more relaxed, your body responding to her tender ministrations.

Vi leaned in, her breath warm against your cheek, and whispered, "I love you, cupcake." Her words were like a balm to your soul, soothing the ache of insecurity that had lingered there. You turned your head, your eyes meeting hers, and she captured your mouth in a gentle, lingering kiss. It was a kiss that spoke of love and passion, a promise that she would never let you doubt your beauty again.

#vi arcane #vi x reader #arcane #arcane smut #arcane x you #vi x you #vi smut #ᯓᡣ𐭩han

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gyeomsweetgyeom · 2 months ago

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[6:58 pm]

(cw: yeah it’s hurt with comfort babes)

For weeks now you’d been left with some kind of numb, bittersweet feeling stuck in your gut. You wanted to address it, of course you did, it was big news. However, every time you let your mind linger on the thought you felt sad and physically ill. It didn’t help that your time with him was so limited either. When he had time at home, he was catching up on sleep and trying to enjoy the time you had together, even if some days it was just breakfast together.

There was no avoiding it anymore. Now, it was just a couple of days away. His comeback commitments were done, he’s been taking more and more calls, and every second you spent around him made you want to cry. How were you just supposed to go from talking to him everyday to just a small window of time to talk to him? How were you supposed to get used to walking from one room to see him to just not having him there anymore?

The front door opened as you blinked your eyes to get rid of the tears. Jaehyun was back home from his top secret errand of the day. “Honey, I’m home,” he sings out playfully.

Your heart skips a beat as it usually when you hear Jaehyun’s voice, “I’m in the living room!”

You turn as you hear his footsteps and gasp when he comes into view. His hair is gone. His lovely, long blond locks are gone and he has a buzzed head. No hair. Bald. You will your brain to think of something to say but instead your throat tightens and your eyes get wet.

“Is it that bad?” Jaehyun awkwardly chuckles.

It’s as if his voice breaks the dam of all your bottled up emotions. You can’t stop the shake of your shoulders, your shuddered breaths, your tears, or any of the racing thoughts. How is he just going to be gone in 2 days?

Jaehyun comes over and pulls you into his hold while he rocks you back and forth while your tears stain the cotton of his shirt. “Love, you have to tell me what you’re feeling. I can’t help you if you don’t tell me,” he tells you in a calm voice.

“But you can’t help me! You won’t be here! For 2 years!” You exclaim through your tears.

“I thought it was a little strange you refused to talk about this,” Jaehyun hums, going quiet for a second to gather his thoughts. “I know whatever I say will be easier said than done, but just listen to me, alright? We’ve already done the long distance and weird hours haven’t we? How many times have I gone on tour and been a handful of time zones away? Countless, my love.”

“I’ll be back before you know it. We’ll be in the same country. I can take breaks to come see you. We still get to talk to each other. I’m not going to space,” Jaehyun smiles, swiping his thumbs under your eyes as your tears slow.

“It’s just,” your voice breaks, “I’m so used to having you home. I like having you home. Now, it’s going to be 2 years of not being able to walk down the hall and see you. Your body wash won’t go down, your clothes won’t move, I’ll have to choose dinner for myself, I have to go grocery shopping alone, I won’t have to sit through those random basketball games you play. I’m going to miss you!”

“You think I want to live with a bunch of random men for 2 years? I’m going to miss you too, my love. More than anything in the world. But I promise you, it’ll be more like I’m on tour. We’ve done it a bunch of times already. We know we can do this. Plus, it’s not like you’re going to leave me right? That ring on your finger isn’t for nothing.”

You stare at his fingers, twisting your engagement ring around your finger as you sniffle. You’re going to miss this too, “Don’t even joke about me leaving you. I wouldn’t have committed to you for over like 7 years now if I want in it for the long run.”

“Like 7 years,” Jaehyun scoffs playfully, “you mean 6 years, 6 months and 14 days?” He kisses your forehead, holding you impossibly close, “I committed too, this is only going to make us stronger. You’re actually going to be so sick of me. I wrote you all these little letters, I have deliveries scheduled, I pre bought you birthday and Christmas gifts even though I’ll be here for those. I’ll call you every chance I get. I promise you, my love.”

You snuggle closer to him, “you’re the best.”

“I know, alright. You can play with my hair now, I know you want to,” Jaehyun smiles.

Your open hand runs over the new, short hairs, “you look really handsome. I like it.”

“Haechan said I’m my head looked bigger.”

“Well, it’s a handsome big head.”

#kpop imagines #kpop au #kpop scenarios #kpop reactions #nct #nct imagines #nct fluff #nct x reader #nct timestamps #jaehyun fluff #jaehyun comfort #jaehyun imagines #jaehyun x reader #jaehyun timestamps #jaehyun drabbles #jaehyun blurb

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n1ght0f-nyx · 4 months ago

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woven bonds pt 3

pert'ah x fem reader

over the last few weeks of living with your arranged orc husband, you start to grow comfortable with him, curious about his culture

tags/warnings- arranged marriage, human female x male orc, gentle giant, your starting to develop feelings for big man

also feel free to request non-woven bonds related things that involve pert'ah or my other ocs (see my masterlist) i love writing for all these characters and seeing the mass of support ive gotten over the last month!

word count-1471

The forest around Pert'ah’s hut had started to feel familiar to you. The once oppressive canopy of trees, with their towering trunks and rustling leaves, now seemed to whisper secrets of their own, ancient and comforting. You spent more time outside, watching the way the sunlight filtered through the branches, how the world around you moved with a calm rhythm that you were only now starting to understand.

Pert'ah, as usual, worked diligently nearby, his large hands carefully guiding a bundle of thread through the wooden loom. The patterns he wove—so intricate, so delicate—fascinated you. Though you had watched him for weeks now, there was something different about the way you felt today. The walls you had built inside yourself, those walls of anger and sorrow, were beginning to erode. In their place was curiosity.

You found yourself wondering how he could create such beauty with hands that looked like they were made for something else entirely. You wondered about him, about his past, about the life he lived before you were forced into this arranged marriage. The thought of learning more made your heart beat a little faster.

Gathering your courage, you stepped closer to him.

“Pert’ah?” you asked quietly, watching as his broad shoulders tensed for just a second before he turned to look at you, his deep-set eyes widening slightly in surprise. You weren’t sure you had ever spoken his name with such softness before.

“Yes, [Name]?” he responded, his voice calm but filled with the kind of hope that made your chest tighten. His hands paused on the loom, waiting for what you had to say.

You hesitated for a moment, then nodded toward the weaving. “Can you… can you teach me how to do that?”

For a brief moment, you worried that maybe your question was too sudden, that he wouldn’t want to share something so personal. But the way Pert’ah’s face lit up erased all your doubts. His smile was wide, his tusks just barely showing as his eyes softened with warmth.

“You want to learn?” he asked, his voice filled with a mixture of disbelief and joy. He quickly stood up, brushing his hands on his simple tunic as if trying to prepare himself. “I teach! Yes, yes. Come sit.”

You moved to sit beside him, feeling a little self-conscious at first. His hands, so much larger than yours, gently guided your fingers to the loom, showing you how to thread the yarn through with care. He spoke softly, explaining the different colors and patterns orcs used, and how each design had a meaning tied to it—family, nature, strength. You could hear the pride in his voice as he spoke of orc culture, and for the first time, you didn’t feel the same resistance you once had.

As you worked together, your hands moving awkwardly through the motions he showed you, you found yourself laughing at your mistakes. Pert’ah chuckled beside you, his deep laugh resonating in your chest like a low rumble. There was no judgment in his gaze, only patience.

“You do good,” he said, nodding in approval as you finally managed to weave a few rows without getting tangled in the threads. “Better than first time I try.”

You grinned, feeling a strange sense of pride in his praise. “Thank you,” you said quietly, meeting his eyes. “I didn’t know weaving could be so… peaceful.”

He nodded. “It is. Make me feel calm. Like world slow down when I work. Orcs… we no always fight. We build. We make.”

You found yourself wanting to know more. The orcs had always been painted as brutish, war-hungry creatures in your world, but everything about Pert’ah contradicted that. He was an artist, a craftsman.

“Is that why you became a weaver?” you asked, genuinely curious now. “Because it brings you peace?”

Pert'ah tilted his head, thinking for a moment before nodding. “Yes. My father, he was warrior. Wanted me to fight too. But I no like it.” He glanced down at his hands, flexing his fingers as if remembering something. “I not good at hurting. I better at making things. I want to create, not destroy. So I leave fighting. I make my own path.”

There was something in the way he said that, a quiet strength, that resonated with you. He had chosen to go against the expectations of his people, to find his own place in the world, and that took a kind of bravery you hadn’t expected from him.

You found yourself smiling again, a small, genuine smile. “I think that’s… admirable,” you said softly, feeling warmth spread through your chest as you spoke. “You’ve built something beautiful here.”

Pert’ah’s eyes flickered with surprise at your words, and for a moment, you thought he might not know how to respond. But then, his expression softened, and he looked at you as though you had just given him a gift.

“I glad you see,” he said quietly, his voice full of emotion. “I make it for us. For you.”

There was something in his gaze—something so tender and full of hope—that made you feel a strange flutter in your chest. You had seen that look before, but now, it didn’t make you uncomfortable. In fact, it made you feel… safe.

The days that followed were filled with quiet moments like this. You and Pert’ah spent more time together, talking, learning about each other in a way that felt natural. You asked him about his art, about orc traditions and stories, and he answered each question with a kind of reverence, as though he cherished the opportunity to share these things with you. And the more you learned, the more you realized how wrong your people had been about the orcs.

They weren’t savages. They had a rich culture, full of art and history. Pert’ah had once shown you a collection of his tapestries—each one telling a different story of orc ancestors, their triumphs and losses. You could see how much pride he took in preserving these traditions, and it made you want to learn more.

One afternoon, as you both sat by the fire, you found yourself asking a question you hadn’t dared to before.

“Pert’ah… why did you agree to this marriage?” you asked, your voice hesitant. “Why me?”

Pert’ah looked at you, his eyes softening as he considered your question. He was silent for a moment, then he sighed deeply.

“I no want you be sold,” he said, his voice low and serious. “I no think it right. But when your father come… he say it bring peace between our people. I think… maybe, if we together, we no have to fight anymore. Maybe we find way to live better.”

He paused, his gaze lowering to the fire. “But more than that… I see you. When I first meet you, I see sadness in your eyes. I think maybe… I can make it go away. I want make you happy.”

His words hung in the air between you, and for the first time, you felt a deep ache in your chest—not from anger or resentment, but from something else. You realized then that Pert’ah hadn’t just seen you as a human, as someone different from him. He had seen you as a person, someone who was hurting, and he had wanted to help.

Slowly, you reached out and placed your hand on his, your fingers gently brushing against his rough skin. He looked up at you, surprise flashing across his face, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, his hand turned, his fingers curling gently around yours.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “For everything.”

Pert’ah’s grip tightened slightly, his eyes never leaving yours. “You no need thank me,” he murmured. “I do because… I care for you.”

The sincerity in his voice made your heart swell, and for the first time since your marriage, you felt a real connection between the two of you—a bond that had nothing to do with politics or peace treaties. It was something deeper, something real.

As the fire crackled beside you, you found yourself leaning just a little closer to him, your head resting against his shoulder. He stiffened for a moment, as if unsure of what to do, but then he relaxed, his arm gently wrapping around you in a way that felt natural, protective.

In that moment, you knew you were falling for him. You weren’t just coming out of your shell—you were opening your heart. And with each passing day, you found it easier to see Pert’ah not as the orc you had been forced to marry, but as the man who had shown you kindness, patience, and a love that was growing stronger with every beat of his heart.

And you were ready to let that love in.

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sourcherryandsprinkles · 1 year ago

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Getting fucked by ghostface!Billy in an alley on your way back from Tatum’s. He tried to scare you and pull this little stunt, but you figure out it was him

More Billy, YES (this is 1.5k, enjoy)

Please read the warnings before reading this one, some of the content might make you uncomfortable or be triggering for you

Warnings: 18+, dub-con, semi-public sex, p + v, non-protected sex, creampie,

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

‘’Are you sure you don’t want to wait for Dewey to drive you home? He should be there at ten,’’ Tatum asked again as you were getting ready to leave. ‘’The psychos are out at this hour...’’

You declined her offer. ‘’I can’t. My parents will have my head if I'm not home before curfew.’’ You grabbed your backpack and opened the door. ‘’See you tomorrow!’’ You waved at her before stepping out and closing the door.

The chill autumn air brushing your face and the fallen leaves swished on the ground around you as you walked down the Rileys’ driveway and took the sidewalk. You didn’t particularly enjoy walking alone at night — no women did, honestly —, but Tatum’s house was only a few blocks from yours.

On the way, you admired all the carved pumpkins out on the porches and other halloween decorations, making you miss when you were kids. Halloween was still fun as a teenager, but no parties could beat trick-or-treating and exchanging candies with your friends.

As you turned on Elm street, a growing unease pricked at your senses. Someone was following you. Your steps became quicker, but not quick enough that your change of pace would alert the person behind you. The last thing you wanted was to let him know that you knew he was following you. He could take a run after you and it would be done for you.

You thought of going back to Tatum’s, maybe Dewey was home from work, but you were almost home. Instead, you took the shortcut to your house and turned in an alley, thinking you could kick a trash can at your pursuer's feet in case he tried anything, but a shadow loomed over you. Panic surged through you, and before you could react, a gloved hand swiftly clamped over your mouth, stifling the scream that tried to escape.

Fear pulsed within you, your mind racing to comprehend the situation. You struggled against the grip, your instincts kicking in as you fought to break free. The scent of leather filled your nostrils as you twisted and wriggled, attempting to loosen the stranger's hold.

A distorted voice pierced the air, its chilling words sending a shiver down your spine. ‘’Don’t you know walking home by yourself at night is a danger-magnet? Especially with a tight little skirt like yours,’’ he said as the hand that wasn’t over your mouth slid up your thigh, making your heart race in fear of what was going to happen.

A sickening feeling twisted in your stomach. Maybe you should have waited for Dewey to drive you home. Your parents would have been mad for not respecting your curfew, but at least you would have been safe.

You tried to scream again, and fight back, but the stranger only laughed at your attempts.

‘’You’re not gonna escape me, babydoll,’’ the distorted voice laughed, tightening their grip and pressing your front against the brick wall of a building. ‘’If you try, I’ll gut you like a fish.’’ Something cool touched your leg and tears pricked in your eyes.

A knife.

Tatum was right about psychos being out at this hour…

You turned your head slightly, trying to see who was holding you, but all you saw was a strange halloween white mask with a black hood.

‘’Have you ever been told how good your ass looked in that skirt? Bet your boyfriend likes to take you from behind, uh?’’ The hand that was on your thigh moved up, pulling your skirt and lifting it up, making your skin crawl.

The night air hit your bare ass, completely exposed to the masked stranger, and you pressed your thighs together. You doubted it would stop the man from doing anything, but you could at least try.

‘’Mmh, what a nice ass,’’ he pointed out, smacking his hand on your ass-cheek, the sound resonating in the alley, and grabbing it. You squeaked at the impact. ‘’I can’t wait to feel it against me as I pound in your tight pussy.’’

Your stomach churned. Your night was turning into a nightmare.

‘’Now, I’m gonna take my hand off your mouth, but if you dare scream…’’ he trailed with a threat.

You nodded, having no other choice. He was the one with the knife.

‘’Spread those legs, hands on the wall,’’ he ordered, the distorted voice glitching a little, causing you to hear the man’s real voice. It sounded familiar, like you had heard it before, but a lot of men had similar voices.

Shaking that thought, you obeyed and parted your legs, holding a hiss when pressing your hands against the rough brick.

‘’Now what?’’ you spat, looking over your shoulder.

The stranger chuckled, then pushed himself up against the curve of your ass, letting you feel his erection through his clothes, the hardness and heat radiating from his body admittedly kind of hot. ‘’Now I'm gonna stick it in you and rearrange your insides, you dumb fucking bitch.’’

You gasped at his words, arousal leaking through your panties.

A car drove by on the other end of the alley, making the both of you go completely still. Minutes ago, you would have been relieved that a car was driving by. Not anymore. A sick and twisted part of you wanted the masked stranger to fuck you against that wall.

Once the car was out of earshot, the masked man another grope of your ass, then pulled aside your underwear, running a gloved hand over your folds and discovering your little secret.

‘’Is this…turning you on?’’

You kept quiet, disgusted and ashamed of yourself.

He laughed, keeping going with the teasing by pressing a finger inside you, making you gasp as you automatically clamped around it. ‘’It is turning you on.’’ You heard the smirk in his voice. ‘’Dirty little slut.’’

You whined at his words, his finger moving in and out, but not nearly enough. ‘’Please,’’ you surprised yourself by saying, chasing his finger. ‘’I need more.’’

If anyone were to see you right now, you would be mortified. Not only were you getting sexually assaulted by a masked stranger in an alley, but you were enjoying it. It was sick.

Much too soon, he removed his finger, making you whine in protest. You turned your head to glance at him, but his head was down and you couldn’t see much.

‘’Think you can handle my cock in you? Your slutty little cunt is weeping around my finger,’’ he said as he reached beneath his robe, fighting with his belt buckle and zipper to free himself.

Your stomach bubbled with excitement, your teeth catching your bottom lip when you felt his hard cock pressing against your entrance. You pushed back against him, the hard press of his tip prodding at you, his pre-cum mixing with your leaking arousal.

Your jaw dropped as you felt his cock part your folds, pushing himself all the way inside before stilling for a few seconds. Fuck. His dick was filling you so good. He gave a first snap of hips and a moan escaped from your lips, louder than you were expecting.

Behind you, the masked man stopped moving, clamping a hand over your mouth as he hissed in your ear. ‘’Keep quiet or I’ll stop playing with your cute little cunt. Can't get caught, can we?’’ he warned, forgetting to use the voice distorter and giving himself away.

‘’Billy Loomis, you sick fu—’’

Your words were cut off as his thick cock plunged back into you, making you moan instead.

Billy laughed. ‘’Surprise, babydoll.’’ He gripped your hip firmly with one hand, the second coming around your throat while he was pounding in you from behind, stars flying around in your vision as the pleasure filled your whole body, explicit groans and muffled moans filling the dark alley.

‘’Always so fucking tight,’’ he grunted, getting really hot under the mask. Halloween costumes were not made to be worn during sex.

You tried your best to brace yourself, both hands flat on the brick wall as Billy kept pistoning into you, your legs were shaking with the intensity of the pleasure he was giving you. ‘’Ahh, yes, just like that!’’

After he emptied himself and rode the waves of your respective pleasure, Billy slipped out from you, a white string of hot cum connecting you to him. He smirked under the mask, loving to watching himself leak from your abused pussy and drip out and down your leg.

‘’You’re insane,’’ you said, turning around to face your boyfriend, your wrinkled skirt still bunched up at your waist.

Laughing, Billy pulled the mask off his face, his lips curved into a wicked grin. ‘’The best people are.’’

You both fixed yourself in silence, having enough played with public indecency for tonight. As thrilling and exciting as this had been, you didn’t want an actual stranger to see you exposed like that.

‘’How did you know I just left Tatum’s?’’

‘’Stu,’’ he explained. ‘’Tatum called him saying you just left, so I put on that sweet little costume and decided to surprise you. Did you like it?’’

You grabbed the front of the black robe and kissed him in response.

—

Scream taglist: @misfityanii @beautybyfire @iluvscream191 @mariposa555 @bella7866 @o638 @lulubelle14 @luvvtxinityy @frasersgf @Eddiefrickenmunson @jasperr-the-friendly-ghost @ghostf4cee @thesebitcheslovesosadotcom @wandaswigglywoos @xjennyx2 @jennasslut @thatonesblog @mikaelsonsstuff @icarly23 @tcddszn @bt.oliana @skyesthebomb @a1mzcruml3y @red1culous @iluurmom @popeheywardssecretgf @michaelangdonsslut @byhrxb @kamthecoolest @kattybug @ravenstrueluv @landryslxys @die4niyahhh @sl4sh3rfuck3r @radiant-whore @Meadzy21 @luci1fer @nomorespahgetti @bloodyhw @depthsofdespairr @bellysbeach @wilmalovegood @loupiotesworld @wenvierismycomfort @t-candy @s-al-em @darylscvmdumpster @tommysaxes @adaydreamaway08 @johannelis2302nely @aqshua @lynbubble @luiise @planetkt @vampyrgoff

All and more taglist: @spiokybirdstarfish @kenqki @liidiaaag @hawkegfs @gillybear17 @areaderinlove @acornacreacure @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @rosie-cameron @Caxddce @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade @hi-bored-as-fcuk-rn @lovelyy-moonlight @mellabella101 @vxnity713 @marzipaanz @bisexualgirlsblog @queenofslytherin889 @thatbxtchesblog @softb-tterfly @ethanlandrycanbreakmyheart @xyzstar @graceberman3 @Heartsforneteyamsully @aerangi @hallecarey1 @bxbyyyjocelyn @mikeyspinkcup

#billy loomis #billy loomis imagine #billy loomis x reader #billy loomis x you #scream #scream imagine

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corpsekiller · 2 months ago

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i saw your halloween headcanon post from earlier and i just had to to drop this here — bakugou dressed up as ghostface from scream. that's it, this is the only thing going through my head😩

girl, you're so real for this. i've already read so many fics with this trope, but katsuki would definitely also dress up as ghostface on halloween. thank you so much for sending this ask, my love <3 i loved writing this dkksjsksla

PAIRING. ghostface!katsuki bakugou x genderneutral!reader

WARNINGS. a lot sexual tension, that's it

MASTERLIST

It's strangely quiet.

Your kitchen is dimly lit, the only source of light are the candles flickering auspiciously on your bedside table and the occasional colorful strobe of your decorations you've placed on your windowsill next to a carved pumpkin and some skeleton figurines you've found in a neat little store a while ago.

You're not sure where Katsuki is — he was supposed to pick you up for the party Mina is throwing at her place, but one glance at the clock steadily ticking on the wall above your bed tells you that he's already fifteen minutes late. It's odd, really, because he's always on time, considers punctuality almost as important as strength and victory during battle and yet, here you are, waiting for him as you stuff candy into your bag in preparation for this evening.

There's a faint memory of him mentioning that he wouldn't dress up, ignoring your pleads to wear matching costumes with a dismissive wave of his hand and a typical frown, muttering something about over my dead body and dressing up is only for kids, dumbass, so it doesn't make much sense to justify his unlike tardiness with the lame excuse of him just struggling with his costume.

"Where's that idiot?" You mutter with an exasperated sigh, gently tugging on the hem of your flimsy costume to readjust the fabric before reaching for your phone to text your boyfriend. Just as you're about to open your chats and type your message, a gloved hand snakes around your waist and pulls you back against someone standing behind you.

For a fleeting moment, your heart skips a beat. Then it begins to pound against your ribs — hectical and painful like a small frightened animal caught in the sharp canines of a predator — and your mouth falls open to cry out for help, but no sound dares to leave your trembling lips.

"Did I scare you?" His voice is low, a rough whisper that reverberates in his chest as he pulls you flush against his body, slowly leaning down until the smooth surface of his mask is pressed against your heated cheeks before he continues to speak. "Thought you'd just get away without giving me something sweet and call it a night, huh?"

Carefully, you turn your head and look up at him — hollow eyes and a distorted mouth locked in a permanent scream glare back at you, though the tension finally leaves your limbs and you sigh in relief, almost burst into laughter at your stupidly terrified reaction to his costume. You really must've watched too many horror movies over the span of the last few weeks if you're unable to recognize your own boyfriend.

Because now that you pay attention to the way he grabs your waist, almost possessive in a certain way, you just know his touch — strong, confident, so unmistakably Katsuki.

You squirm in his grip, meekly attempting to fully turn around to face him, but his grasp on your waist only tightens. A whimper leaves your lips, a quiet sound that causes him to chuckle as his hand trails up to tilt your chin, turning your head so you can look at him again.

"No, I don't think so. You're stayin' right here, got it?" His thumb brushes along your jaw, slow and almost tender. Even with the mask on, you can feel his smirk, can imagine the devilish grin that pulls on the corners of his mouth as he keeps you trapped between the kitchen counter and his body without a chance to escape

Though you're not sure you really want to.

"You like it, don't you?" He drawls, tilting his head to get a better look at you — although you can't see his eyes, his gaze seems to burn on your skin and you can't help the violent blush that tints your cheek in a shade of pink. There's a certain edge to his voice too, taunting and dangerous, almost sadistic if you listen close enough, as if he's enjoying the anticipation etched into the soft furrow of your brows, the sheer power he has over you and your body. "You like that I've got you cornered... nowhere to run?"

Oh, this is just a game for him and you've fallen right into his trap.

"Maybe," you reply, barely above a whisper, though you can't help but smile just a little.

"Maybe, huh?" He murmurs, a soft laugh escaping him as he lets his gloved hand wander from your cheek to your neck, lingering there for just a moment before his fingers slowly close around your throat. He doesn't squeeze, not yet, only lets you feel the weight of his hand, but it's enough to send a shiver down your spine. “Better be sure about it. Because now that I've got my hands on you, I won’t let you go.”

With one smooth motion, he pulls the mask up just enough to reveal his face—- the crimson of his eyes has darkened, pupils blown with something you can only describe as hunger and his lips are pulled into a sinister smile that bares all his teeth. There's a moment of silence, then he pulls you into a bruising kiss that punches the air out of your lungs and causes your knees to buckle under the weight of your body until the only thing that is holding you on your own two feet is none other than your boyfriend.

After what feels like half an eternity, Katsuki pulls away. Your head spins with the lack of oxygen, your legs are shaking and yet you can't help but reach out to dig your fingers into the fabric of his costume, roughly yanking him back for another kiss that leaves you just as breathless as the first one.

“Do you really think I'm done with you yet?" He whispers, voice a low rumble, before slipping the mask back down. "You have no idea what I've planned for you...Happy Halloween, babe."

#katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou x fem!reader #bakugou imagine #katsuki bakugo x y/n #bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugou imagine #katsuki bakugo x reader #bnha x reader #bnha bakugou #bakugo x you #bakugo x y/n #bakugou x you #bakugou x reader #bakugou x y/n #mha imagines #mha x reader #bnha x you #ghostface!katsuki

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sunshinedaisywrites777 · 9 days ago

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Quiet Moments (DI!Leon Kennedy x F!Reader)

A/N- I'm so desperate for Leon to come and coo me, comfort me, hug me, kiss me. Everything about DI Leon makes me feel like I'm a babygirl and can't hold back my giggles whenever I see the pictures of him. Even my grandma looks at me like I've finally found the one but little does she know... Just a little something for all of us who also feel the same way as me. Enjoy :)

Warnings- age gap (you know the deal already sooo)

The late afternoon sunlight streamed through the blinds, casting a golden glow across the living room. Leon was stretched out on the couch, a book resting in his hand, the other arm draped along the backrest. Everything about him seemed calm and at ease, his sharp features softened by the peaceful moment.

You were sitting beside him, legs tucked beneath you, fidgeting slightly. A strange ache of longing sat heavy in your chest, and the need for his closeness became impossible to ignore. Steeling yourself, you scooted closer and, without a word, wrapped your arms around him, nestling your face against his chest.

Leon stiffened briefly, startled by the sudden affection. The book slipped from his fingers onto the coffee table, and his full attention turned to you.

“Hey,” he murmured, his voice gentle and full of concern. His arms came around you instinctively, holding you close. “What’s this, huh? You feeling a little clingy today?”

You didn’t answer, instead nuzzling deeper into his chest. He let out a soft chuckle, the sound warm and soothing, as one hand came up to cradle the back of your head.

“It’s okay,” he cooed, his voice dropping to a low, comforting tone. “You don’t have to say anything, sweetheart. I’ve got you.”

His fingers threaded gently through your hair while his other hand rubbed slow circles on your back. Leaning down, he pressed a soft kiss to your temple, then another to your cheek. “You’re so precious,” he whispered against your skin, his lips brushing tenderly. “You know that?”

Your arms tightened around him, a muffled sound of contentment escaping you. Leon chuckled again, his voice tinged with affection. “Aww, look at you. My little cuddlebug,” he murmured, his tone light and teasing as he kissed your cheek again, lingering a moment longer this time.

“You’re really stealing my heart over here,” he cooed, his voice melting into a tender lull. “But that’s okay. It’s yours to take.”

The warmth of his words wrapped around you as securely as his arms did. The soft kisses and gentle reassurances melted away the ache in your chest, leaving only the steady beat of his heart beneath your ear.

“You can stay like this as long as you want,” he whispered, his lips brushing against the top of your head. “I’m not going anywhere, angel. You’re safe here with me.”

As he continued to hold you, his quiet cooing and the occasional kiss to your cheeks filled the silence, making the moment feel even more intimate. And for the first time that day, you felt completely and utterly at peace.

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last-dropsevi · 1 month ago

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Piltover girl* ੈ✩‧₊˚ Sevika

Pairing: Sevika x gn reader (leaning towards fem)

summary: Sevika found out your secret. An argument breaks out

Edit: Next chapter

Word count: 1.3k (somethin light)

Warning: Angst No comfort. this is my first writing ever so ntm. Always willing to take tips where needed thanksssss

* ੈ✩‧₊˚ You sat at the bar, nursing a drink you didn’t really need but could hardly ignore. You had seen this before: the quiet distance she created between herself and the world, a barrier so thick that not even the closest people could reach her. But tonight, that barrier felt thicker than usual. Her eyes rarely met yours, and whenever you tried to speak to her, her responses were curt and dismissive.

Something was wrong, and you could feel it in the pit of your stomach.

You had always been there for Sevika, no matter what. Through her rough times, through the dark nights in the underbelly of Zaun, through every gamble she’d thrown herself into, you had been a constant presence. But tonight, it felt like she was shutting you out in a way that stung. The space between you seemed to grow with every word she ignored, every glance she avoided.

You’d tried, earlier in the night, to offer support as she gambled away her winnings, the old familiar tension in her eyes—frustration, anger, but more than that—something darker. Something you couldn’t understand.

“Sevika,” you said again, sliding into the chair across from her. “What’s going on? You’ve been acting strange all night.”

She didn’t even look up, focusing intently on the cards in her hand. “I’m fine,” she muttered, her voice tight, laced with a sharpness you hadn’t heard before.

“No, you’re not,” you pressed. “What’s going on? You’ve been... distant.”

Her jaw tightened, her grip on the cards faltering for a moment as she glanced at you, her gaze icy. “Drop it, alright?” Her tone was colder than usual, sharper than a knife’s edge. “I’m fine. You don’t need to worry about me.”

You frowned. Something didn’t sit right. You weren’t going to just let it go.

“Sevika, please. Talk to me. I’m just trying to be here for you,” you said, your voice soft but insistent.

But Sevika's eyes darkened, her expression hardening. She leaned back in her chair, a deliberate move, as if she was putting even more distance between you. “You think you know me, don’t you?” she snapped, her voice a low growl. “You think you know what I need. You think you can just come here, show up, and act like you’re the answer to my problems. But you don’t know anything. Stop trying to play a hero.”

Your heart skipped a beat, a rush of confusion and hurt flooding your chest. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” You couldn’t mask the hurt in your voice. “You think just because I haven’t faced as much troubles as you I don’t understand you? I’m here, aren’t I? I’ve always been here.”

She scoffed, a bitter smile curling on her lips. “Always there, huh? You don’t even know who I am, where I’m from. I’m just a street rat from the depths of Zaun. You don’t belong here. And you never will.”

The words cut through you like shards of glass. You had never heard her sound so angry, so... cold. It felt like a betrayal, but you couldn’t understand why she was pushing you away so violently.

“I’m not trying to fix you,” you said, voice trembling with a mix of frustration and sadness. “I’m not some savior, Sevika. I just want to be with you. I want to understand to you to…love you.”

Her eyes flashed with something darker, something you couldn’t place. “understand me? I’ve seen enough of Piltover’s elites play pretend. You think you’re different?”

You opened your mouth to speak, but before you could, she stood up abruptly, her chair scraping harshly against the floor. The room seemed to close in as she towered over you, her entire presence heavy with something unreadable.

“What the hell’s going on with you tonight?” you asked, exasperated.

“Let’s just say... I found out your little secret,” Sevika said, her voice dangerously calm. The words hung in the air, and your heart froze in your chest.

You swallowed, your blood running cold as the truth began to dawn. “What secret?” you managed to whisper, your voice suddenly small, trembling.

“Don’t play coy,” she spat, her eyes narrowing. “I’ve had my suspicions for a while, but I didn’t want to believe it. But you’re not just a Piltover girl, are you? You came down here to escape something, didn’t you?”

A rush of dread filled you, and your mind scrambled to make sense of what she was saying. “Sevika, I—”

“I know who you are,” she interrupted, her voice low but cutting. “I found your file. The one from the upper city. The one with your name on it. The one that says you came here to run from your precious little life in Piltover. Hiding behind the streets, pretending to be someone you’re not.” Her tone was venomous, and the accusation hung in the air between you like a blade.

You froze. How did she—? But then it hit you: when you first met Sevika, you’d been careful about your past. Too careful, maybe. And now, it seemed, it had come back to haunt you.

Her gaze was harsh, unrelenting. “You don’t think I can see it? You think I wouldn’t figure out that someone like you could never belong here? No one from Piltover ever really gets it down here. Not the way we do.”

You could feel the weight of the lie you’d been living pressing on you, and it hurt. More than anything, it hurt because you had never meant to deceive Sevika. You just wanted to be close to her. To be someone real, someone who could stand beside her in a world so far removed from the polished streets of Piltover.

“You were just using me to get away from your perfect Piltover life,” Sevika’s words cut through the silence, and your heart shattered. “I guess I was just another distraction for you. Just another fucking game to play.”

Tears pricked at your eyes, but you didn’t let them fall. “That’s not true,” you whispered, but the weight of her gaze made it hard to speak. “Sevika... I didn’t want to hide it from you. I—”

She shook her head, her expression hardening. “Don’t, okay? Don’t pretend you came down here for me. This was just some… escape. And I’m not the damn place for you to run to.”

A silence stretched between you, heavy and suffocating. You wanted to fight back, to tell her she was wrong, but the truth was, deep down, you knew she wasn’t entirely wrong.

Sevika was right about one thing: you had been hiding behind a mask of your own. But that didn’t change how you felt about her.

You didn’t speak. Instead, you turned and walked to the door, your heart aching with every step you took toward it. Sevika didn’t try to stop you. She didn’t even move.

Before you left, you glanced back at her—once more, but for the first time, there was no warmth in her eyes. Only cold, calculated distance.

And that was enough to tear you apart.

┐(￣ヘ￣)┌

NEXT CHAPTERRRRRR also Masterlist

Did u like itttttttt? Let’s hope u did anyway uhh if u have any suggestions for another story, send it in the replies. I’m tryna set up a request box but idk how

#sevika #sevika x reader #sevika x you #arcane #mommy milkers #sevika x y/n #jinx arcane #arcane season 2 #arcane season two

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yan-lorkai · 2 months ago

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.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Tagging: @kurtswld

"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.

#yandere chrollo #chrollo x reader #yandere chrollo x y/n #yandere chrollo x reader #chrollo x you #chrollo x y/n #hxh chrollo #chrollo hunter x hunter #chrollo lucilfer #tw yandere

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vibingandsimping · 1 year ago

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Random sfw + nsfw thoughts/headcanons for randomly assorted characters from BG3! Excuse any grammatical errors or poor phrasing… it is nearly midnight and I got off work.

Send requests or thoughts in my ask box. It will always be open!

Forewarnings/tags: Trying to keep this gender neutral… mentions of sweat/scent, blood-drinking, possession/control, some tooth-rotting fluff, fingering (receiving + giving), oral (receiving), hate-fucking, some ass-play mentions?, nipple-play, dirty talk, degrading, praise, validation.

Characters involved… Astarion, Wyll + Gortash

Astarion,

If you have warm-blood… such as a living creature. He adores that- his fingers trail along the expanse of your skin and if you could see his eyes you’d swear his name made sense. It has been so long since he had his own warm skin. Since Cazador stripped him of his innocence and life. He lives vicariously through your body. He may be dead but you breathe life into him and he swears his cold-heart no longer beat still.

He admires your features. The more unconventional ones. Like the wrinkles in your skin, the uglier scars that line your flesh. Moles, freckles, stretch marks… they all remind him of how uniquely alive and different you are. He’d kiss each one if you’d let him as his tongue singed praises.

He’d craft you a perfume or cologne to your scent. His senses are heightened as a vampire. He’s pressed his nose against the crook of your flesh more times than he could count. He’s smelt your skin and sweat… all of your essence. He has tasted and inhaled the scent of your blood. With that information, he presents you a mixture of herbs and other properties. Once applied to your skin, it illuminates your personality. Truly, as he said, he missed his calling.

As we all know… this man loves to bite. It is a form of dominance as well intimacy. Your vulnerability and his stake of claim as well as acceptance. You do not truly understand the importance behind the act. He never fed on humanoids until you. You were the sweetest he’d ever tasted… and will ever truly taste. The fact you’d give yourself so willingly gives him a feeling of superiority. As well as a lighter, chest tightening feeling of belonging. As much as you belonged to him, he was also yours.

He truly loves to delve into your pleasure. As much as he is fond of using his tongue… to break you apart with simply his mouth. Watch you crumble and cry from betwixt your thighs, there is also an unremarkable excitement in his fingers. Filling you and stretching you with them. Working to angle and prod the most sensitive parts whilst his tongue slides against yours or along your neck. Licking at the wounds from his feedings. To hear you cry so deliciously from just the thickness and persistence of his fingers strokes his ego. He knows he will fuck you dumb unto his cock.

A shorter smut headcanon but I do believe he’d love cumming on your skin. Your face, chest (particularly loves giving you a pearl necklace, he thinks you look dashing), stomach, thighs… any skin that is available, honestly. There is a strange sense of pride for him in it. To see you covered in him. He also loves to cum inside. Either works, honestly, as long as it is you.

Wyll (this guy has no fics about him. Step up y’alls game)

A true gentleman. He grew up as a son of royalty… what do you expect? If you guys ever had a proper date, he’d dress no less to impress the finest. Honestly, it makes you feel so utterly underdressed. He adorns a wonderful cologne. It is reminiscent of leather, warm spices and a sweeter scent like honey. His vest has gold detailing along a beautiful maroon. Still, in his eyes you are the most stunning thing he’s ever seen. No matter how fancy you dressed. He cannot keep his eyes off you, truly.

We all know he loves to dance. It is something he praises in his dialogue. Still, he wishes no more than to dance with you. If you can or cannot dance, it doesn’t matter. He will teach you the rhythm and steps if you have two left feet. Each time you trip or fall, he simply quirks a smile and offers a hand. He does not judge, only finds some amusement in how adorable he finds you. If you know how to dance? How delightful. He will play some faint music to follow along too. His hand rested along the small of your back and his fingers intertwined with yours. Dipping you and guiding you as the music fades away and you’re left with the trance of his loving gaze.

As much as he is a gentleman, I think he’d love harmless pranks. Gentle teasing of your character to see your frustrations and shock. He’d ‘misplace’ an item of yours to see you scour in confusion. Then, when you look at him, he is holding it out with a devious little smirk. He lets out a chuckle when you stomp over and nearly cuss him out. He loves every side of you and you know that it’s lighthearted fun… and god damn is it hard to hold a grudge when he has a smile like that. Curse him, truly.

He is a simple man, honestly. He takes pleasure in what you take pleasure in. Will indulge your desires and kinks as long as they aren’t particularly destructive. Though, he does have a little… interest. He proposes it one day with some nerve, or, you happen to stumble on it yourself. Nonetheless, he enjoys his ass being prodded during oral. You noticed when a fondling hand upon his balls drifted and brushed against his hole. He stiffened and let out a strained noise. You brushed it again before discovering it was one of pleasure. With that information, do as you will. Just know that it makes him release much easier than he intends. He finds it a dirty (although frustratingly pleasurable) trick when you go down on him.

He enjoys toying with your nipples while either betwixt your thighs or wrapped around you. There is a certain look you hold when his thumbs squeeze and roll them. You arch your back a little more and your thighs quiver as the pleasure shoots between them and enhance what he was giving you. It was truly a sight and he didn’t even have to say anything for you to unravel just the way he’d like. Don’t think it’s just hands, either. He’ll glide his tongue along them, sucking and nibbling til he is assured you’re enjoying it.

Gortash (I’m a dirty Gortash lover… sue me. Durge will get some content later, I swear)

Starting off with the normal Tav… If you manage to ‘fix’ him in a sense, he admires your persistence and patience with him. He had a troubled past that he overlooked and developed some… issues from. Yet, it was your kindness and guidance that led him to stopping the Absolute and creating a better city. He is not perfect, by far. Enver is still a controlling man. He needs some sort of power and dominance to soothe his mind. Though, he does not use fear to control his citizens anymore. He’s truly impressed by the way you swayed him. You can see it in the way he gazes at you sometimes. There is certain softness as his hand grasps yours and he looks to you for reassurance in a moment of vulnerability. He needs you to keep him in reigns.

He loves holding you from behind and to bury his face into your neck. The crook between your head and shoulder holds such warmth and a smell that is yours. It reminds him of the path he has chosen… and the person he gets to cherish for it. He places his hands onto your stomach and allows his sharp, metal nails to tease the skin. To remind you of the still powerful man whose giving up such command and control to you. Someone who grounds him. He might even hum into your skin in content if you do not push him away. Honestly, you will eventually. He could cling onto you like a koala of you did not stop him. He murmurs into your skin about how you two rule this kingdom… and one day you’ll be officially betrothed to him. The thought of him proposing and taking your hand in marriage makes your heart flutter.

Although he is so soft with you, he fucks you like he hates you. His cock battering your walls and filling you up so painfully full. He is thick- and makes your mind melt as he stretches you unlike you’ve known. He may not be particularly the longest but he does not lack length. Sadly, foreplay isn’t the best thing he’s at. You can blame it for his inflated ego and quick beds over the years. If you ruined his initial plans and had him submit the Absolute, he seethes in your ear about it. As much as he is a changing man, there is a part deep down that will resent that fact for awhile. He could’ve had everything he’d ever wanted as a boy. “Look at you, such a dirty thing. Soiling my plans, stomping into my heart… and now you’re sprawled on my sheets pathetically.”

When you finally convince or wrangle him into going down on you, it’s a sight. A mess of black hair and hands wrapping around your thighs. His tongue works rapidly, lavishing you in slightly inexperienced licks. Sucking at your sensitive parts before returning to ravishing you with his tongue. It is not that he hasn’t gone down before in all his years… it’s that his ego was so inflamed that he never truly thought or cared for it before you. He’s willing to try and work on better things just for you. As such, this is a way of showing his commitment to you. Not only to indulge in his pleasures but to show he cares about yours.

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thatnonameuser · 3 months ago

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The Red King holds a Bleeding Head

A Wonderland of Yanderes - Masterlist Chapter 1. Heartslaybul Part 6.

So this is strange.

Last time you came here, Alice recognised you and the card soldiers didn't. And now, someone barely mentioned in your childhood storybooks was standing her before you.

Instead of the tiny animated King that the Queen of Hearts could crush underneath her foot should he ever raise his voice, an actual person was cowering and shivering in fear and anxiety, at the thought of his over-controlling wife finding out about you.

This world just kept getting more and more strange....

<Y-you need to l-leave. I-If she loses h-her temper, you'll lose- > He stammers, trying and failing to push you back into the mirror. The glass remains hard, will it be like that till you wake up? Probably.

"I'll lose my head, I get the jist." Why did he notice you? He wasn't mentioned in the original story until the Queen of Hearts was introduced, so why was he here? "I want to leave but......where exactly is here? And please don't tell me some riddle..."

<You're in the Queen's Rose Garden....b-but how did you even get in here? T-The guards sh-should have stopped y-you> You watch him nervously twist his hold on the cape, and if holds it any tighter it might rip in his grip.

"Probably the same way Alice got here-"

His face blanches, turning so white that it rivals the white petals of the roses. <Who....Who's Alice?>

"She's a girl lost in here, she's supposed to be painting the roses with some of the guards, I haven't seen her since-Mmph!" The Red King slaps a palm over your mouth mid sentence, his eyes widening with terror. You can't hear anything, but you can feel the hand over your mouth start to shake violently.

<Th-the girl....I need to get her out before she finds her!> He takes off running into the depths of the rose garden. Well, the dream brought you here for some reason, maybe he is.

"Hey! Wait up!" You chase after him, because what other choice do you have? Whatever the mirror wanted to show you, what you'd seen already clearly wasn't it.

The Red King disappears around a corner, which you follow only to skid to a stop. You arrived at the original rose garden from your first dream, and it's now filled with dozens of card soldiers. You take a few steps back until you're somewhat hidden by the bushes. Maybe it's best to heed the King's warning, especially with who's in it right now.

Wielding a massive rosebush of red and half painted roses, over her head in anger, with the roots of the bush still clinging to some of the dirt it had been planted in, is the Queen of Hearts.

<For painting my roses red, someone will lose his head!> She looks exactly like the statue in the main street, and her colors have been drained to match the greyscale environment around you. The only color, still a deep red, makes up her dress. She reminds you of the tiny animated King of Hearts.

And she's infuriated.

A paint covered Alice is at her feet with the card soldiers from earlier, who cower fearfully.

<Y-Your Majesty, if anyone's to blame, it's him!> <Have mercy, Your Grace. It was the Ace!> <Gah, no, it was the TWO!> <It was the Three, I say!> The card soldiers are quick to turn on each other, desperate to escape the Queen's wrath.

<Enough of this. Off with ALL their HEADS!> The Queen's voice booms with rage, and a part of you thinks she's going to save herself time with a beheading, and just beat them to death with her rose bushes.

The Red King runs in between with the Queen and her future victims, trying to shield them from his angry 'wife', though captor might be more appropriate. <D-Dear please, they were just trying to correct their mistake!> He tries to reason with her, but as you watch her grip tighten around the rose bushes, it's safe to assume he's doing the opposite.

<Winston, are you disobeying me?> The Queen's voice is deathly low, as if threatening the King, or Winston, to choose his next words carefully.

You watch Winston's face morph into one of abject terror. <No! NO! Of course not! I-I would nev- >

The Queen's hand shoots out and grips his ruffled collar pulling him close, but like a movie you can still hear what she says despite it being a quiet hiss of a threat. <Then, I suggest you hold your tongue before you lose it along with your HEAD!> She yells that last part, just terrifies the person she's supposed to call her 'one true love' more.

Winston looks like he's going to pass out from fear, and even from this far away, you can see him trembling and hear his shakey reply, <Y-Yes, dear. I-I'm sorry.>

The Queen smiles, triumphant, pressing a soft peck to the still terrified and trembling Winston's cheek, either ignoring the evident fear on his face or not caring, before her rage comes forth full strength. <NOW OFF WITH ALL THEIR HEADS>

<Ooooooh! Yaaaaay!>The surrounding card soldiers cheer at the death sentence. The Red Queen smiles in glee at the reception to her verdict, while her husband's eyes meet yours.

Terrified. He's terrified. Why is this considered love, this is just abuse.

<Hee hee hee.> The Queen's even laughing, for shit's sake!! How in the hell was this romanticized! In any way!

The cards start to sing, and it's a chilling tune.

The world starts to fade around you. Are you waking up? But you still don't know what's going on here. Why was the mirror showing you this anyway?

Was it trying to convince you this world was even worse than it was?! Because it worked.

You open your eyes to your bedroom ceiling. The sunshine from outside tells you it's dawn. "It was just roses. Why didn't anyone try to help Winston? Why didn't anyone else try to stop the Queen?" You mutter.

You sit up and stare at the window, now normal. Not glowing, no ripples. Slipping Grim from your arms, you slip out of the blankets and approach the mirror. Setting your palm on the glass, it doesn't do anything. It doesn't faze through or pull you into another world.

"So......was it all just a dream?" You don't even have an answer to that, and you're just as confused as you were before. Why do you keep dreaming things like this? What was the point of seeing the life that poor Winston lived?

Is.....Is there someone watching? Is there someone watching you and sending you these? As a warning or to help?

But the contents of your dream, minus what Winston was going through, felt similar to reality. Riddle had kicked out Ace for a petty reason. Sure, it was theft, but it wasn't something worth taking someone's magic over. And if your experience from lunch yesterday held any water, then the card soldiers of Heartslabyul were just complicit. Willing to stand aside if it meant keeping their heads, or in this case, their magic.

But since today's the unbirthday party, let's hope your reality doesn't mimic your dream.

You're still lost in thought about your dream as you push through your morning routine. You're no expert on bad omens, but this feels like a bad omen. Like a really bad omen.

To be honest, you didn't have very high hopes for today. Not because you thought Ace was going to supremely fuck it up, but because having high hopes shot you in the foot yesterday and that was a really long and grueling day. And a little because you thought someone was going to fuck things up.

Mornings are hard enough when you know that you have a long day ahead of you. It's even harder when that long day might involve a lost head.

So when Ace finally pulled himself out of bed, or rather off your couch, while Deuce was using your bathroom, you weren't expecting much.

You also weren't expecting him to take you by surprise while you made breakfast.

He also probably wasn't the punishment of having a rubber spatula slapped across his face.

"What the hell, Ace!" You scream, your once clean uniform now covered in pancake batter from when you jumped in surprise. "Don't scare me like that!"

You're just glad you are making pancakes when he sets his hands on your shoulders instead of taking the pan out because that pan would have probably made a permanent indent in his skull.

“Jumpy much, Prefect?” He laughs, massaging the reddening bruise forming on his face.

You groan, “And to think I bothered to make you breakfast….”

Ace’s eyes brighten at the mention of food. “Well, don’t mind if I-”

You snatch the plate out of reach and let a teasing smile cross your face, “Well, I guess you can wait till the party to eat then. Since you’re fine with scaring the person feeding you…”

“Fine, fine, I’m sorry ______.” He puts on his most apologetic looking face as he ‘apologizes’, and it’s so melodramatic that it makes you laugh, “Food, please.”

You hand them over with a laugh, “Just don’t finish them, the Great Grim will be very hangry if he doesn’t get his tower of pancakes in the morning.”

Ace stuffs one into his mouth, before his eyes widen, “D’l’shush.” He says with his mouth full, and swallows before continuing, “Can you cook for me everyday, Prefect?”

You wipe the stray batter from your vest, there goes your last clean shirt. “Will it stop you from stealing your dorm leader’s tarts?”

“You aren’t letting that go, are you?”

“Nope.” You say with a teasing smile on your face, before turning back to breakfast making. A peaceful start to the morning is nice. It’s probably going to get hectic later on, so you’ll enjoy it while it lasts.

“Hey, uh, Prefect, can I ask you something?” Ace pauses mid-sentence for some reason, “Something important.”

There it is, “Sure, what’s up?”

“Do you remember what we talked about last night?” You stop to think for a second. You remember Ace and Deuce talking last night but not what it was about. You occasionally dragged into it, but you responded with one word answers. Now you wish you hadn’t. But you were so tired last night.

“N-Not really.” You curse yourself mentally for the stutter, but you feel the peaceful feeling leech away from your body. You don’t like where this is going.

“We talked about you a lot last night. You didn’t seem to notice.” And now you really didn’t like where this was going. “Juice told me about what happened on Main Street after you went to bed.”

You can feel Ace’s stare through your back. Please don’t go down this street. Please. “Y-Yeah about the delinquents….”

“Yeah, we talked about that but I’m talking about what you told him.” Dammit Deuce, you knew that Ace and Deuce are slowly growing into their friendship, but if Deuce was obsessed with you, why the hell was he telling Ace about your private conversations.

But Deuce is a yandere that doesn’t know about how to be a yandere. Because his mother, seven bless her, had tried to shield him from the influence that probably made her own life hell for a time. And Ace is a yandere who does know about this stuff.

Who better to ask than your knowledgeable roommate.

“About what?” You can feel your heart speed up.

“About your home world.” The grate of a chair on the floor tells you that he stood up, followed by footsteps tell you that he is so much closer. “You’re burning the pancakes Prefect.”

“Shit!” You snap out of your stupor, tossing the burnt pan into the nearby sink. Great, this is going splendidly. “W-What about my homeworld?”

You can feel Ace’s breath by your ear, he’s that close. You can feel a hand on your shoulder, and you tense. “About how your world sees darlings and stuff. Do they really punish what we do?”

He’s suspicious. Fuck, he’s suspicious. You should have asked Deuce to keep it a secret. But that could have made you suspicious to him. Talk about a Catch 22.

“Yeah….it’s,” You turn to face him. Your face is so close to his. It’s that stupid collar that grants you some distance. “It’s complicated.”

“Yeah, it probably is, is that why you freaked out in class? Because what’s allowed in our world isn’t in your world ____?”

Um…”Yes?”

“But why were you scared?” Okay, you are taking back all of your ‘Ace is an idiot’ comments. He’s actually very perceptive. And to you, that’s a bad thing.

Ace studies you as you reply “I-I thought murder was going a little far..?”

Ace smiles at that and a sigh of relief bubbles into your throat. “Yeah, I get that, my dad told me he’d be pissed if I killed someone on campus.” Phew.

“After all, it’s not like you’re hiding something Prefect. I mean you have this charm to you that pulls people to you, it would be terrible if someone thought you were a darling." Do you agree? Why does it feel like this is a trick? You hold your face as calm as possible, given your pulsating heart beat. If this is a test, you are not failing it.

“Yeah, it would be. But it’s not.” You cross your arms in an attempt to exude dominance but like the last time you still feel a little small.

“But if you were, It’s not like I’d do anything to ya, Prefect.” He pulls you in closer in a ‘hug’, which it would be if his collar wasn’t in the way. “We’re friends, aren’t we?” Not really, you trust him as far as you can throw him, which isn’t even possible.

“If Prefect was what?” Deuce pokes his head in the kitchen, Grim is a bubbling mix of hangry in his arms.

“It’s nothing, Juice.” he pulls away from you and you can still feel chills. “Just if Prefect was a darling, we wouldn’t hurt her, right?” You hate how he gives you one of his friendly smirks when he finishes that statement.

“Oh, yeah we wouldn’t.” Deuce smiles at you. But it doesn’t soothe you. In fact, it makes the underlying terror even worse. “Ow! Grim!”

Grim frees himself from Deuce’s arms with a well placed bite to his forearm. In his morning grumpiness and anger, he exclaims, “Henchman! You left me!"

You force a smile. "To make you breakfast boss. Eat." You hold out a plate full of food that Grim happily snatches, devouring it with usual gusto. You, on the other hand, have lost your appetite. You’ll just eat at the party, where there’s an audience to whatever happens to you.

Plus, after what just happened, it’s for the best that Grim keeps full today. The last thing everyone needs is Grim to eat one of the sacred tarts before Riddle does.

But right now, all you want to do is leave. Leave the horrible oppressing air beating down on you to smother you in fear. And you have an excuse to leave, drying pancake batter on your shirt. Quickly, you shove another plate full into Deuce’s arms. "Help yourself, Deuce. We have a long day ahead of us. I’m gonna go and change my shirt.” The sooner you’re out of here, the calmer you’ll be.

Deuce gives you an appreciative smile but he looks concerned. “T-Thanks but…Are you okay Prefect?”

You calmly, not really but you really did try to act calm, shake your head. “Yeah, fine. Just…..” You’re too scared to be alone with them right now, “Don’t want to be late to the unbirthday party. Be right back!”

As you get a good distance away from the kitchen, you press yourself to the wall. It’s a great thing that the walls are thin.

“What did you tell her Ace?!” Deuce’s whispering sounds outraged. So he was putting up a front for you.

“Hey, I just asked her whether she was a darling or not, plain and simple. Besides, we both know we wouldn’t hurt her.”

“I don’t think she thinks that…”

“It’s not like we're going to. Take it from me Juice. First rule of dealing with darlings, don’t make them feel afraid.”

“If she is a darling…” Deuce doesn’t believe it. Thank the seven, he doesn’t believe it.

“You don’t think she is?”

“No..Not really.”

“It doesn’t matter either way. If she’s not a darling then, we’ll figure something out.” What does that mean? What does figuring something out entail?

There’s silence for a bit, as if Deuce is thinking about something, “But we’re scaring her…”

“Well, after the unbirthday party we’ll make her feel better. Spend time with her, make her trust us again. Don’t worry about it, Deuce.”

Silence, followed by an, “Alright.” The sound of something heavy hitting your cabinets and the noise resounds through the house. “But if you’re wrong about this and we end up hurting her, you’ll be sent home in pieces–if there’s even enough of you left to send out.”

“Got it. You gotta trust me more on this Juice, y’know since I’m the only one that knows about this stuff.”

“Fine. But you better not be wrong.” Shit. So they’re both suspicious of you and even worse, they’re working together. At least somewhat.

But there is some hope. Deuce, above all else, doesn’t want you to be hurt. If you use that against him, then maybe you can use this to your advantage. As a figurative bodyguard, to protect you from harm.

Another bombing knock on the door nearly makes you jump out of their skin. “Helllooo!?” It’s Cater, not the best person to pop up, but beggars cannot choose.

“I-I’m coming!” You call out as Ace’s and Deuce’s voices hush at the sound of your voice. But you already doubt that you would get any more information.

As expected Cater has a very bright smile greets you as soon as you open the door, "Good mooorning! Did you enjoy your sleepover? Did you bond over pillow fights and card games?”

“N-Not really, I was really tired. Could barely stay awake.” Cater’s eyes widen slightly, but he doesn’t vocalize whatever he realized. “W-Why are you here so early?”

Cater pushes past you into the foyer, and envelopes you into a hug. “Do I need a reason to see my favorite underclassmen?”

You squirm in his hold, “No, but-”

“Oh, it’s you Cater.” Ace, Deuce and Grim all poke their heads out of the kitchen in confusion.

“Hiiii, did you have fun?”

“Yeah, but-”

Cater interrupts them, “Well, you should get one of the tarts we made yesterday and go apologize to Riddle.” Cater hesitates for a moment and his expression drops into a frown, “And you should probably hurry, because after the trouble yesterday, we’re a little short handed.” Is something wrong because he’s never this serious.

“What does that mean?” “Don’t worry. I’ve totes got it under control. Anyway, off to the party we go!”

“Wait, I haven’t changed-” Whatever you were about to say is cut short by Cater dragging you by your arm all the way to Heartslabyul, with Ace, Deuce and Grim not far behind. So after this shitshow of a morning you’ll be attending an important tea party with a super strict dictator with dried pancake mix on your shirt. Thanks Ace.

Heartslabyul looks as neat as ever, with the rose bushes perfectly trimmed, et cetera, et cetera.

Ace, massive chestnut tart in hand, is prepared to march inside and spare you the additional migraine. “All right, so I’ll hand over the tart and say I’m sorry, then-”

But no, no that’s not happening.

Because Cater popped out of the rose maze. The same Cater that was still holding your arm at the mirror entrance, a good ten feet away. And y’know what. You might want to consider visiting Sam for some extra-strength headache medicine.

Cater B waves at Cater A, “Hey, it’s about time I got back! Good to see me!”

Cater A, not bothering to explain his sudden perfect copy, waves back at him. “And me! Looking good as always, me!”

Well at least you could now explain how he gave that flower to you in the rose garden yesterday. Wait if he can clone himself, doesn’t that mean he can send a clone out to follow you around?

“Bwuh?”

“Th-There’s two Caters?!”

“Are you guys identical twins?!”

You don’t share your friends’ noise of confusion, it’s already 7 AM and you’re exhausted for the day.

“Nope. Don’t have any siblings.” The explanation is one you were expecting, it’s his unique magic ‘Split Card’ that allows him to clone himself. Cool. That's just cool. Deuce puts two and two together about their loss yesterday, but once again, you’re already exhausted.

And more headaches come jumping out of the bushes.

“Welcome home, daaarlings.”

“Good to see you, ____”

You yelp as more appear from nowhere. Just how many of these can he make at once. He could be his own card soldier army if he wanted, for seven’s sake!

“J-S-Y-K, I’m actually the real Cater.” No,we are not playing this game of who’s the real Cater, you’re here to give Riddle this stupid tart and then you’re eating too much of Trey’s desserts. Not this game of human bullshit.

“Making these duplicates is suuuper exhausting, so I can’t maintain them for long.” Well, that’s a little relief. But Riddle’s left Ace’s collar on for a good day now, is there not a time limit for magic or something? Has Riddle not slept to make sure the collars stay on or something? “Anyway , if we’re late, heads will roll. And since we’re several people short, we’ll need your help.”

“But-” You start but Cater interrupts you.

“When this is over, I promise I’ll take you straight to Riddle.” Well, there goes head straight to Riddle, this better not bite you in the ass.

Wait. Oh, not the roses again.

“What, MORE roses?”

“And here we go again!”

You sigh, let’s get this over with already.

And now, red paint now joined the creme-colored mess on your vest and shirt. Today was becoming as big a mess as your shirt. Yay….

But on the brightside, Deuce and Grim managed to get the hang of painting the roses with magic.

On the dark side, painting the roses took so long that it was time for the unbirthday party to start.

So now you were in the extravagantly decorated tea garden still stuck with that stupidly big tart that should have been given to Riddle an hour ago, thanks Cater.

By now, all the Heartslabyul students had gathered in the garden, and, at least to you, it’s not very festive for a party. Everyone, decked out in a pretty cool uniform, looks as stiff as a soldier on the battlefield. As if waiting for a bomb to go off.

Some students buried in the crowd have collars just like Ace’s around their necks, the rule breakers collared like dogs with a cone of shame. It’s just barbaric.

The sound of trumpets make the few slouching stand at attention in utter silence and terror, as one of the students play announcer, a something of Spades.

“All Hail our Leader, the Red Sovereign Himself….Dorm Leader Riddle!” You instinctively cringe at the title. Who would willingly want to call someone that, and isn’t clearly joking?

The man of the hour walks in with all the nonchalance of someone who definitely didn’t hear what you just did, but the card soldiers do exactly as the ones in your dream did, and forgive the pun, followed suit.

“We salute you, Dorm Leader Riddle!” Are they not going to introduce Trey? He’s right next to Riddle and the Vice Dorm Leader. But for some reason, they don't. Is this why Trey seems so insecure?

Riddle inspects every nook and cranny of the tea garden as if looking for the tiniest error or mistake, from the table cloths to the flamingo enclosure for what you hope isn’t an actual croquet game with live animals. You watch each of the other dorm students tense in fear as he makes his rounds.

After too many minutes of silence, Riddle finally makes his judgment, “Hm. The garden roses are red, the tablecloths are white…This seems a proper unbirthday indeed.”

The surrounding dorm students all sag in visible relief. How much of a traditionalist and a perfectionist is this guy?!

“Is there a dormouse asleep in the teapot,” There’s a what in the what?!, “as there should be?” Just as you make a mental note to not drink the tea, you watch the formerly relaxed card soldier tense up like someone lit a fire under their ass.

Though they sag again when Trey tells Riddle that they’ve prepared everything to the Queen of Hearts, and Riddle’s expectations.

Just how much fear has Riddle instilled in the hearts of his fellow dorm mates?

Grim seems less concerned with the terror on the faces of nearly everyone here and is more concerned with their outfits. “Myah! Those are some fancy duds!”

You have to agree they are pretty nice, but they are bigger things to focus on here right now, like how the soldiers seem like they're about to have a stroke with all the stress they’re under.

“These are the Heartslabyul dorm clothes.” Cater explains, “Aren’t they fierce? At the forefront of fashion, and they look great in Magicam.”

“Yeah, but-” There’s a flash of light to your left, and Cater’s in his dorm uniform.

“One of the Queen’s rules mandates formal dress on party days.” Once again cool, but you want to know about- “As a show of kindness from a beloved mentor, I’ll help coordinate your outfits.”

Another light flashes, and you feel the dirty clothes you’re wearing ripple around your body, reforming and changing.

In place of the messy version of your Ramshackle, is a version of the Heartslabyul uniform fit precisely to your style of dress (masc version/fem version).

It’s nice, not bad but nice. As long as you get those clothes back, you don’t really have clothes to spare.

Ace and Deuce are in uniforms that match the rest of the card soldiers, and even Grim’s bow matches the Heartslabyul colors.

“Whoa!”

“Lookin’ sharp!”

“Myah! So cool! Henchman, do I look cool!”

“Yes, you do. You look very cool, Grim.” Grim smiles in your arms, and you might as well complement the other two who call you friend, “You both look fantastic too!”

The two’s faces brighten as they smile at you. “T-Thanks!”

“So do you, Prefect!”

“Now, let’s tear this party up! And don’t forget to give Riddle the tart.”

“Yes! Let’s not delay this anymore! Give him the tart.” You’re about to push Ace in the direction of the tyrannical and not your damn problem dorm leader. When the sound of teacup being hit by a teaspoon rings out. “Oh, c’mon!”

“Before we begin the croquet tournament, let us make a toast. Does everyone have their teacup?” You pick one of the teacups up as politely as possible to keep the dorm leader’s eyes off you. But if you grip it any harder, you’re going to break the china.

“On this most significantly unauspicious of days, I bid all in attendance….a very merry unbirthday!” That tart that got Ace kicked out better be good for all you had to go through.

The whole garden repeats the same cheer, minus you because you’re going to lose it the longer you stay.

“Ace, this is your chance!” Cater whispers.

“Yes, finally. Ace, let’s go.” You practically drag Ace by his arm all the way up to Riddle, careful to prevent that tart from falling to the ground because if something happens to that damn tart you’re going to lose your mind. “Now apologize, like you mean it. Even if you don’t.”

“Right…Uh, dorm leader, sir…”

“Ah, it’s you. The tart thief. Oh, and _____, I see you’ve been keeping out of trouble.” Ace gives you a confused look.

“It’s a long story, I’ll tell you later,” you whisper, before turning your attention back to the tyrant, “Yes, I have,” You laugh nervously. “I wanted to make sure that Ace apologized….correctly.”

“Do you, now?” Riddle crosses his arms, awaiting that apology. Don’t screw it up Ace.

“Yeah, so I wanted to apologize for eating that tart. We made you a new tart to replace it.”

“Hmm? And what kind of tart is it?” So far so good. Now just tell him what is before they cut that nice looking cake over there. You’re really hungry now.

“I’m so glad you asked! It’s a chestnut tart, and I swear, we weren’t stingy with the chestnuts.” Okay, no snark, nothing that can be taken out of context, we’re almost through the woods.

Riddle reacts like he’s just been struck. “A CHESTNUT tart?!” Shit.

“What?!”

“Is…is something wrong?”

Riddle’s eye twitches in anger, “The Queen of Heart’s rule 562: One must never bring a chestnut tart to an unbirthday tea party.” FUCK.

Riddle looks like he’s going to blow a gasket. “This is an utterly flagrant rule violation! Do you not understand what you’ve done?!” Oh no….” You’ve ruined an otherwise perfect unbirthday!”

“Rule 562..?!” How many fucking rules are there!?

“How many of these rules are there?!”

“There are 810 rules in all,” What the FUCK, “And as dorm leader I can of course recite each and every one of them.” What the hell….

Shit, you need to damage control, “W-Wait, we didn’t know that! And besides, we weren't planning on bringing it to the unbirthday party.”

Riddle, like an asshole, ignores you, “As dorm leader of a dorm established to honor the Queen of Hearts’ rigor, I cannot ignore this. Destroy the offending tart immediately! Then throw these rulebreakers out of the dorm!”

Fuck this place.

#yandere twisted wonderland #yandere #yandere twst x reader #yandereverse au

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