#Something About Hope and Kindness and Killing the Rich | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hcneymooners · 2 months ago

Note

best friends mom ambessa? perchance? love ur fics 🤍

⋆ you made me crazy, you made me wild.

best friend's mother!ambessa x curvy!f!reader. men & minors dni.

synopsis: a psychic once told you you'd have the kind of love that would mark you for the rest of your life. did it have to be with your best friend's mother?

cw: milf!bessa, age difference, older woman/younger woman, modern au, you and mel are best friends, long rich people vacations, curvy!reader, reader is implied to be a woc but you can still read regardless, forbidden love, sneaking around, vaping bc i have an oral fixation however i have never once smoked i just like the vibe i fear, non-sexual intimacy, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, overstimulation (bessa!receiving, r!recieving), multiple orgasms, tribbing, cunnilingus (bessa!receiving), you go to town on her my god, squirting (bessaaaa does it), tender sex, floor sex, manhandling, light angst, friendship breakups, angst with a happy ending.

notes: perchance is killing me. thank you so much for being so sweet mami. hope you enjoy. also, don't vape kids!

you and mel haven't spoken in three weeks.

the thought sits heavy in your chest as you perch on the window seat of your boutique, one leg tucked beneath you, the other dangling lazily. your cream silk camisole rides up your belly, catching on the velvet cushions behind you. outside, venice beach awakens like a lioness stretching in the sun, all languid and golden.

the brass bell above your door chimes softly in the morning breeze. your fingers find your vape – a delicate thing of gold, engraved with climbing roses – and bring it to your lips in a motion as natural as breathing.

the sweet ghost of vanilla mango curls around you like a familiar lover. you've always needed something between your lips, a fact that amuses your friends and once made ambessa raise an eyebrow in that way that sent heat flooding through your body.

the recent mornings have been sadder and slower than most, though objectively one wouldn’t be able to tell. you keep waking in fits, your body heavy with mourning. your reflection in the shop window shows what you've become in her absence: curves nestled in vintage, mussed hair tumbling past your shoulders, lips stained the color of crushed berries.

a crystal pendant nestles in the soft valley between your breasts, and your rings catch the light as you fidget with the hemline of your denim cutoffs. there's nothing calculated about your appearance today – no performance or intention. it's as honest as you can muster this morning.

the wooden floor creaks beneath your bare feet as you move to arrange a display of moonstone rings. your own fingers are adorned with gold bands, each one telling a story of who you were before that summer in england. before mel, before her mother and that library with its leather-bound books and muggy afternoons, before you watched her, endeared as she peered at her phone with those sunglasses perched on the top of her head.

before you realized that the soft animal of your body had found its home in the worst fucking lineage alive.

your phone lights up again – another message from mel. her name on the screen sends a fresh wave of guilt through you, but not regret. never regret. not about the way her mother’s hands felt on your waist in the conservatory, not about the first kiss that tasted of chlorine and whiskey, not even about the screaming match that ended with you on a plane back to california.

you take another long drag from your vape, watching the morning light fracture through hanging crystals into rainbow patterns across your skin. the salt air mingles with your perfume – something expensive and european that ambessa had picked out because she liked to dress you like a little doll, build your body up.

a customer pushes open the door, sending the brass bell into a symphony, and you unfold yourself from the window seat. your reflection shows a woman who knows exactly who she is – soft-bodied but steel-spined, tarnished but holding out for healing.

you tuck the vape into a vintage ceramic dish beside your register, next to the rose quartz crystal your psychic insisted would bring your true love back to you. you're not sure you believe it, but you keep it close anyway, just in case the universe is listening.

the customer's voice hits you like a wave – crisp, cultured british vowels discussing the merits of different pieces. it's nothing like ambessa's voice, really, but it's enough to send you tumbling back into that summer, that first day when everything changed.

𓇼

mel had been waiting at heathrow, practically vibrating with anxiety, her locs spun into a tight chignon at the nape of her neck—a nervous habit since childhood. you'd fallen into each other's arms like you always did, all tears and high laughter, ignoring the disapproving looks from passing businessmen. it was the same way you'd hugged since you were five, sharing grape juice boxes and childish fantasies on the playground.

"it's just a little cottage in the countryside," mel had said on facetime, twisting her initial necklace. "very quaint, very english. you'll probably think it's charming." what she hadn't mentioned was that her "cottage" was actually a sprawling estate that made downton abbey look modest.

honey-colored stone stretched towards the sky, windows gleaming like diamonds in the afternoon sun. the gravel drive seemed endless, winding through gardens that swallowed the sun within their towering walls. it must’ve been a dream to grow up here, small feet tumbling through the mazes and nothing but the entire world before you. your hand was still clasped in hers on the gearshift of her vintage mercedes, just like always, but you could feel her fingers trembling slightly.

"mom's probably in the library," mel said, killing the engine. "she's got this thing about afternoon light."

she chewed her lip, a habit you recognized from exam days and first dates.

"just… don't take it personally if she's a bit… well, you know. she can be kind of intense. dad always says she's an acquired taste."

you remember adjusting your dress, a red-and-white gingham number that clung delicately to your stomach. the bow at the bust had come undone at least three times that morning, and the skirt, airy and flared, fluttered in the slightest breeze. it felt a little too simple, too worn for the looming grandeur of mel’s childhood home, but you hadn’t thought to pack anything else. besides, something was grounding about it—the way the cotton pressed against your skin, the familiar weight of the straps on your shoulders, like it was trying to remind you who you were.

you followed mel through halls lined with oil paintings and antiquities. your sandals clicked against marble floors, echoing off high ceilings. everything smelled overwhelmingly of jasmine and time passed, the atmosphere practically bloated by money’s touch.

and then there was ambessa.

she stood in a shaft of golden light, tall and elegant in a cream linen suit that probably cost more than your entire wardrobe. silver threaded through her dark hair which was braided down into a neat, long plait and when she turned, her eyes caught yours with an intensity that made your knees weak. your psychic's words echoed in your head – "your palm reads of a love that will shake you. stand fast, girl." – and something in your chest shifted, like tectonic plates realigning.

"mom, this is my best friend," mel was saying, but her voice seemed to come from very far away. you noticed how she shifted her weight from foot to foot, how her fingers twisted in the waistband of her maxi skirt. "the one i've been telling you about."

ambessa's handshake was firm, her skin warm against yours.

"welcome to our home," she said, and her voice – god, her voice was like honey over gravel, like smoke and leather. "i trust you'll find everything… adequate."

you managed to say something appropriate, probably, though you couldn't remember what. all you could focus on was the way ambessa's eyes lingered on the wide basket of your waist, the delicate line of your collarbone, the pearl drop nestled between your breasts. it felt like a cigarette dragged slowly across your skin.

later, sprawled across mel's massive bed like you used to do at sleepovers, both of you tipsy on expensive wine stolen from the cellar, mel talked about her latest boyfriend drama – some posh boy from oxford who couldn't commit – while you traced patterns on her linen sheets. but your mind kept drifting to the library, to ambessa's knowing smile, to the way she'd looked at you over dinner like you were a deer she very much wanted to fell.

you didn't know then that those looks would become your undoing.

𓇼

you couldn't sleep that first week, your body stubbornly running on pacific time. the massive house creaked and whispered at night, all those endless corridors filled with shadows. you'd taken to wandering, padding through the halls in your cotton shorts and an old guns & roses tee, your thick hair piled high in a silk scarf that your grandmother had taught you to wrap just so.

that's how she found you the third night, curled up in the window seat of the informal library (because of course there were multiple libraries), reading the beautiful and damned by phone light. your bare legs were tucked up under you, painted toes peeking out, a half-eaten peach leaving sticky fingerprints on the pages.

"fitzgerald at three in the morning?" her voice was rough with sleep, but still commanding. ambessa stood in the doorway in a black silk robe that made your mouth go dry, her hair loose around her shoulders. "how terribly american of you."

"can't sleep," you drawled, your accent thick and lazy in the quiet. "time zones are, like, totally brutal."

the ghost of a smile touched her lips at your exaggerated californian lilt, and something warm unfurled in your chest when her eyes lingered on your face, studying you with a naked interest that made your skin prickle.

it became a ritual after that – you in your sun-faded pajamas, her in sophisticated sleepwear that probably cost more than your rent. she'd pour two fingers of sherry ("none of that silly wine you girls keep stealing." “yeah, sorry about that.”), and you'd talk about everything and nothing.

you told her about your boutique—at the time—dream, about learning to make jewelry from an old hippie who read tarot cards on the boardwalk. she spoke of art acquisitions and board meetings, but sometimes, when the night grew soft and heavy around you, she'd share pieces of herself that felt like an easy glimpse into your future.

mel noticed, of course she did.

"mum’s different with you," she said one afternoon, watching you apply coconut oil to your sun-warmed skin by the pool. her voice was careful, measured in a way that made your stomach twist. "she actually laughs at your jokes. she never laughs at anyone's jokes."

you hummed noncommittally, pretending to be absorbed in moisturizing. but you could feel mel's eyes on you, the same sharp gaze she'd inherited from her mother, taking in how you'd started wearing your nicest pajama sets to your nighttime wanderings, how you'd borrowed one of her expensive face creams "just to test it out."

during the days, you'd lounge in the massive gardens with mel, your skin deepening to further in the english sun while she talked less and less about her boyfriend's drama and more about how strange it was to see her mother so… present. but at night – at night you belonged to the library, to raspy-voiced conversations and loaded silences, to the way ambessa's eyes would trace the crescent of your folded body, the arch of your neck, the fullness of your lips.

"you're nothing like i expected," she said one night, two months in, her voice low and intimate in the darkness. you were sprawled on the persian rug, head tipped back against a leather armchair, humming some alternative song under your breath. your skin glowed warm and rich in the lamplight, a sharp contrast to the pale marble and cream walls surrounding you.

"oh?" you looked up at her through your lashes, feeling brave from the whiskey and the late hour. "what did you expect?"

"someone more like mel's other friends. polished. proper." her lips curved around the words as if they amused her. "not this beautiful little creature in threadbare pajamas, so full of freedom and self-assuredness. you hold your own."

beautiful. the word hung in the air between you, dangerous and flickering. like the growing tension you felt whenever mel watched you both at dinner, her eyes narrowing at each shared glance, each lingering moment. you sat up slowly, your movements sluggish and dream-like.

"i don’t. not really. you make me nervous, but i learned early on how to fake it."

her eyes met yours in the dim light, and the air flooded with something thick and heady. your body felt electric. behind you, a floorboard creaked – mel, you'd realize later, watching from the doorway with dawning understanding.

but in that moment, all you could see was ambessa, all you could feel was the weight of what was building between you, an avalanche you were both choosing to let bury you.

in a matter of minutes, she had her hands on you, your back against her firm chest with two fingers tucked inside of your cunt. your legs sprawled open, your pussy blossoming with arousal like rain on roses.

she was softer than you’d imagined, but it was almost relieving. the tenderness did more for you anyway, sent your pulse more freely throughout your body.

you bucked your hips as heat spiraled up from the base of your spine. ambessa pressed you back down, fingers gripping deeply into your thighs.

“no,” she murmured. “stay down.”

you were nestled into her lap, her fingers milking you gently as you arched. your voice seemed caught in your throat, your neck extended in expectation of a kiss. she indulged you, mouth capturing yours while her thumb slipped past your thatch of curls to play with your clit.

the kiss was wet and sloppy, uncoordinated as a result of your jerking body. still, she fed from you reaping kiss after kiss, suckling at your tongue. she groaned into your lips as you threaded a harsh hand into her hair, pining her face against yours.

in response, she inserted a third finger. you let out a high moan at the added stimulation, rooting a hand around her neck to better fuck yourself down. she laughed lightly at your desire, pumping faster until your cunt dribbled gratitude down her knuckles.

“there you go, sweet girl,” she cooed and you shivered.

you suddenly understood cults and their leaders, how special you could feel when their attention was laved over you. you were trying your best to remain quiet, thick thighs trembling as she fucked you a little harder. your tits were bouncing as you met her thrusts and she hid her face into your neck, sucking and biting lightly.

with a muffled squeal you came, squirting lavishly all over where the two of you were locked together. true to her nature, ambessa didn’t give you a moment. with an efficient maneuver, she slid you around and on top of her. it was then that you realized she was naked, robe hanging open at her sides. you weren’t given a second to admire her.

instead, she tucked you into her and kissed you as she extended her legs out and settled you onto her warm cunt. you collapsed fully into her, face buried in the soft crevice of her heavy tits. she let out a slight hum of satisfaction as she slotted your clits together, hooking a leg over you to better increase the spread of your puffy pussy. eventually, you understood the intention and began to rock steadily against her.

the friction was heavenly and you clutched her tightly, burrowing into her broad body as you chased your pleasure. ambessa was just as frantic, snapping up with a hand anchored into your hair. your silk scarf had fallen long ago but you didn’t worry about it. all that mattered was her deep groans of pleasure and the way she kept fucking up against you.

“fuck, honey,” she murmured and you wanted to tell her that you knew, that you understood.

but you couldn’t. you were rendered pathetic by the threat of your second orgasm and settled for cumming inside of her with a wet wail. you could feel her legs shaking but you knew she hadn’t finished, and with a great groan you slid off of her.

stumbling slightly, you stood and rearranged so that you were kneeling in between the apex of her legs with your ass high in the air. as you dripped onto the carpet you began to lap at her and reached a hand up to twist and pinch at her nipples, alternating between her tits.

her breath began to shudder, her chest heaving as she ground down on her tongue. it only took a couple more broad strokes up her pussy and a relentless circling of her clit for her to finish, the liquid dowsing your nose and chin. the spray was thick and warm.

pleased, you hummed into her and started the whole thing up again. she cried out, legs closing around you in a suffocating crush.

not once did you let go.

𓇼

the fight had been brutal. even now, the memory makes your stomach churn—leaves you flinching, sick, and unsteady.

“jesus, [name],” mel’s voice had been sharp, cutting through the quiet. “you’re playing house with my fucking mother.”

“mel—”

“no!” she snapped, her words laced with disbelief and venom. “i can’t believe you. what? are you just desperate? taking whatever scraps you can get? ‘but i love her, melly!’”

her voice pitched high, mocking, cruel in a way you’d never heard before.

“i mean, my god, just go to therapy. don’t go fucking my mother!”

your hand cracked against her cheek before you even registered the motion.

“fuck you,” you spat, trembling, the tears hot and blinding.

she staggered back a step, wide-eyed and disbelieving. you mirrored her shock, your palm still stinging. the silence that followed was suffocating, broken only by the harsh sound of both your breaths. ambessa had stepped out moments before—it was just the two of you now, suspended in the aftermath.

her lips parted as if to say something, but no words came.

your ticket was booked that afternoon, your bag packed by evening. you were gone before the sun had fully set.

𓇼

you close the shop early, your hands moving automatically as the weight of the day presses down on you.

the steady drag on your vape blurs the edges of your thoughts, a small comfort that does nothing to ease the growing ache in your chest. by the time you arrive home, the haze has lifted, but it leaves behind a sharp clarity: you’re alone. sadder than anything. the kind of heartbroken that settles deep in your bones and brings you down, quiet and constant like a low hum you can’t escape.

so you’re surprised when you’re met with a sleek range rover loitering in the parking lot outside your apartment complex.

you didn’t expect to see her this soon. or ever. didn’t want to. three weeks of silence, of space between you both, and you thought you were okay with it. you’d been fine with the quiet, with the absence. but there she is.

mel is right outside your building, sitting pretty and cross-legged in the backseat, the car’s headlights casting long, soft shadows over the cracked pavement. ambessa is sitting in the passenger seat, her face illuminated by the glow from the dashboard, and something about the way she holds herself makes it clear that she’s on the edge. she probably didn’t even want to do this. maybe she’d flown here for mel. maybe mel had flown here for you.

your chest tightens as you stand there, frozen for a moment, caught between the impulse to walk away and the need to understand what’s brought them here. you don’t move, just watch.

the undiscovered truth is that ambessa’s done this for both of you.

mel’s been struggling without you. she’s noticed it; this is her daughter after all. mel hasn’t said it outright, but ambessa can see it in the way her shoulders slump when she talks to anyone else, the small, tired smiles that don’t reach her eyes. she’s miserable without her best friend. and then—gradually—ambessa realized how much she needed you, too. wanted you.

the air between you and the car is heavy with guilt and longing. you can see it in mel’s face, too—how much she loves her mother, how she wants this to be different, even if she doesn’t quite know how to fix it.

and you? you feel a bit numb. maybe it’s the dredges of your vanilla buzz. the sadness in your chest, the loneliness, the quiet hope that maybe—just maybe—this could still work? it’s half dead, half living. you can’t tell if you’re ready to talk, to face what’s been left unsaid for so long. but you know one thing for sure: you’ve missed them both.

you keep standing there, rooted to the spot, watching the car like it’s some kind of omen. the silence feels louder than anything you’ve heard in weeks. ambessa remains in the passenger seat, her gaze distant, like she’s trying to work through something too. you don’t know what it is—whether it’s the weight of her possible regret or the silent pressure she’s putting on her daughter.

mel shifts in her seat, and then, before you can even brace yourself, she’s out of the car, the door slamming shut behind her. she’s standing in front of you now, her eyes wide with something that looks like hesitation.

“i didn’t know where else to go,” she says, her voice quiet but raw.

you don’t know what to say. the words that have been sitting in your throat for weeks suddenly seem impossible to spit out. you want to scream, to ask her why she didn’t come sooner, why it took so long. but all you can do is stand there, your chest tight and aching.

“you don’t have to say anything,” mel continues, her eyes darting between your face and the ground. “i just… i didn’t know what else to do. my mom’s…” she trails off, and there’s something in her voice—something that sounds like both love and frustration.

“she’s been miserable without you. i’ve been miserable without you.”

the admission hangs between you, thick and vulnerable. your breath catches in your throat. you didn’t know how much you missed her until this moment. you want to reach out, to pull her close, but you don’t. the ground between you both feels too fragile. finally, you speak.

“you deserve an apology too,” you croak out. “i shouldn’t have gone behind your back and i sure as hell should have never fucking hit you. it was unacceptable and i’m sorry, melly.”

her eyes grow bright and glassy with tears. she nods.

“i’m not going to say it’s fine because it’s not. but thank you for apologizing.”

you nod, resigned to another night of crying yourself to sleep.

i realized,” mel says wetly, “before this whole thing i’d never—i’d never seen you in love. i’ve never seen you that happy. i’m sorry for mocking that especially since you’ve never had that before, and it’s all you’ve ever wanted.”

you shrug, looking away.

“it’s how i’ve been living.”

before mel can say anything else, ambessa opens her door and steps out of the car. she’s quiet, her movements deliberate, but there’s something gentle in the way she walks toward you. she stops just a foot away, and without a word, she closes the gap and cups your face in her hands, her palms warm against your skin.

you blink, the shock of her touch overwhelming.

“i can’t believe you’re here,” you tell her, your voice cracking down the middle. “have you even been to california before?”

and it’s so stupid to say when you haven’t fucking seen her in months, haven’t stopped loving her for days, but ambessa only smiles. her eyes soften as she leans in, her lips brushing your forehead in a delicate.

“i’ve only ever tasted it,” she murmurs, her breath warm against your skin.

⚚ special taglist: @astarcalledtala @sugrcookiiee @16novvs @tnash-tammy @dyk3miffy @iwasholic @fruitfulfashion @absandsevikasgirl @blackdykegirlblogger @fortluocha @neganwifey25-blog @rottngrl3

#ambessa x you #ambessa x reader #ambessa x y/n #arcane ambessa #ambessa medarda #ambessa league of legends #ambessa the chosen of the wolf #ambessa smut #wlw smut #lesbian #sapphic #arcane smut #arcane fanfic #arcane x reader #wlw #female!reader #fem!reader #mine ; 🐎.

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yandere-wishes · 11 days ago

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Currently obsessed with the Damian x stray writing and had a very angsty thought about it (not a request, not meaning any pressure just wanted to share)

Stray feels suffocated by his attention. Maybe one day she might want him back but it’s all too much. She fakes her death (as her vigilante persona) and Damian morns and rages and turns cold, all of that delicious stuff.

Only one day the Catfam/Selina end up in hot water and she has to come back. He freaks the hell out.

oooohhhh I really love this, there's something so progressively dark about it. About Making Damian suffer so deliciously until he finally snaps.

Damian's love for Stray/Catgirl is complicated or rather it's easy but Damian likes to make it complicated by tying it to fate and legacy. He practically sees reader as his destiny as an omen and a good luck charm, heavenly insurance of sorts.

But should his darling, his comfort be stripped from him.

Well, destiny will still play out, but it won't be as kind.

Damian's life, his legacy, will be marred in ebony and rage.

⋆🐾°⋆🐾°⋆🐾°⋆🐾°⋆🐾°⋆🐾°⋆🐾°⋆🐾°⋆🐾°⋆🐾°⋆🐾°⋆🐾°⋆🐾°⋆

The hands wrapped around your shoulders are suffocating. Same for the fingers currently squeezing your cheek, you angle your mouth right, trying to bite and gnaw at his flesh and bones. Damian just laughs, he still thinks the two of you are playing.

He always thinks you're playing. What can you expect from the little assassin boy whose first toy was a knife, who swung swords instead of playing catch. He loves the way your claws scratch at him, the tiny scars they leave. He likes to wrestle you along the harsh pavement, enjoys the punches he throws and receives. It's all just a game to him.

But you, you can't take it anymore, the sky itself is closing in. You can't breathe in his presence can't think when his arms are coiled like vines around your body.

The world is growing dark as his lips ghost across your lips...

Your mother notices your depression. The dark gloom that follows you across the rooms. The sharp snaps at your sisters, the endless screaming when someone gets too close.

She's already lost one daughter, she refuses to lose another.

Selina holds your funeral, pays for the coffin, and signs the invites.

She plays the role of grieving mother like an actress on the silver screen.

But despite the desperation in her action, her throat still hitches with fear when she sees the rage in the youngest Wayne's eyes.

She can't help but feel like she's doomed the world with her selfish little stunt.

In Star City you can breathe, see the sun as you walk across the dewy grass. There is hope here, sprinkled through the air.

You mind not the heroes that swing by. You even laugh at the stray arrows and masked family arguing on the rooftops.

In Star City, you can finally breathe...

Until the Gotham gloom creeps in once more.

He prowls the streets, cowl crown wrapped tightly around his head. Here he is vengeance he is law, Gotham bows at his feet.

He doesn't notice the family heirlooms shattered across the city streets,

The morals and legacy rotting away under the moon's mournful gaze.

Damian Wayne

Batman

The protector of Gotham.

And also it's jailer.

He doesn't have his father's mercy.

Doesn't carry his borthers' oaths.

He kills the monster that lurks between the shadows.

That fester in the darkness.

No crime goes unpunished.

There is no mercy for the wicked, no hope for rehabilitation.

There are only graves now.

His father would be disappointed...

Damian stalks towards the zoo,

He knows he's going to enjoy tonight's trifle.

Catwoman picks the lock on the new exhibit. She recoiled in disgust as her eyes scan the plaque by the cage.

*Lion cubs saved from the wild brought for restoration*

Lies she thinks bitterly. These little cubs were stolen, brought here from their homes across the sea. Imprisoned for the crule's amusement and the rich's greed. She sends her own kittens to rescue the lion cubs. But just as they go to make their escape. A dark figure descends from the sky, tearing through them and binding them.

Selina fights, but she's come to learn she is no match for the new bat. The vampire out for blood. He drags them back to the manor, once such a lively place now reeks of sorrow and mourning.

"This has nothing to do with crime and you know it! You know who's really guilty here. You just want an excuse to get rid of us. You still blame us, blame me for her death." Selina screams as the bat throws them into a dark chamber.

Damian says nothing he just locks the door and leaves.

After all the blood of the greatest detective still courses through his veins.

Your old suit feels too tight, cutting off your circulation. Still you jump from rooftop to rooftop vying for Wayne manner. You got the picture of your family tied up and starved, a few days ago. You hate how long it took you to gather the courage to return.

You shutter thinking of the image. Of the windowless cement room.

Your family may be infamous for breaking free.

But even a cat can't escape a cinderblock.

You crawl through the shadows. Sticking to the walls of the manner, the maze is endless, unrelenting. It refuses to be breached. The lights come on one by one as if catching a rat in a trap. You recoil at the blinding light when finally your eyes open once more you see Damian descending the stairs face painted in soft surprise, body covered in his father's suit.

"I knew you couldn't be dead." he's grown, face molded into a softer Bruce. But his rage still flickers relentlessly in his emerald eyes. Of couse he's finally cracked the case.

"Let them go" you beg tears cascading from your eyes "Please!".

"I see the civilian life has made you soft kitty. Not a difficult matter to resolve, I'm sure." You shake your head, stepping back trying to run away.

But the years have made him even stronger and Damian catches you before you can flee him again. His arms wrap around your waist, face buried in the crook of your neck, intoxicated by your scent.

He can't believe he's holding you once more. Your body is so solid within his grasp. He missed your sweet voice and even sweeter whimpers. He missed the erratic thump of your heart whenever he was near.

He'll never let you go, ever again.

Damian vows it on his father's grave.

He kisses your neck, your cheeks.

Finally reclaiming your lips.

You can't breathe...

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room-surprise · 7 months ago

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hi! i was wondering if in dunmeshi, before falin was eaten by the dragon and before present events, laios and his party were earning money for k*lling monsters in the dungeon? i don't understand if someone was paying them, how they were making money and how it worked

I want to write a proper, thorough reply to this with citations to specific references and mentions in the story, but uh, a tree fell on my house so I've been a bit too busy to do that lmao.

BUT, to give an incomplete answer:

Yes, adventurers get paid for work they do inside of the dungeon, or, they just harvest monsters/plants/treasure that they find. The dungeons are a kind of boom town, similar to a gold or silver rush, which means that the entire local economy is based on people trying to extract wealth from the dungeon, since it's dangerous but easy work, anyone can try to do it with very little resources, and the potential for profit is huge.

Someone with almost no money could, potentially, go into the dungeon and walk away with enough money to start a business, or buy a house or a boat. If they don't die. If they're lucky. Desperate people cling to the hope that they will be one of the lucky ones who become insanely wealthy.

Based on things Kui's told us in the manga and the extra materials, we know:

You pay a fee or a toll to be allowed to go into the dungeon. Access is controlled by the local government. Some people avoid this, like Senshi and the orcs since they just live in the dungeon and avoid leaving.

Many people die, give up, or fail to accomplish anything useful in the dungeon. These people probably generate a good, steady income for the island, since they pay fees but don't have to be rewarded. The lure of trying to strike it rich keeps huge hoards of people flowing in steadily. Most money in boom towns is generated by all the people who are trying and failing to get rich buying things from local people (food, supplies, lodging).

When a dungeon first appears, it is full of easy to harvest gold and treasure. "Gold peeling" is how Laios and Falin started out, and it's literally going into the dungeon and peeling gold off of the walls and statues, and taking any easy to transport treasure with you.

Various tasks need to be done in the dungeon to keep it safe, clean and accessible, and all of these result in a person either being paid by the lord of the island, or the person who they have saved. Killing dangerous monsters, finding people who have died and taking their corpses to the resurrection office, reporting changes to the dungeon, discovering new paths, etc.

When gold and treasure that is easy to find starts to run out, people turn primarily to harvesting monsters. They are probably paid a bounty for every monster they can prove they killed (bring back some body part that a monster only has one of, like a tail), and then they can also sell anything else they harvested from the monster in the market (meat, the rest of the hide, horns, teeth, claws.)

You want the dungeon to stay safe with a well-managed monster population to prevent something like Utaya from happening.

But if you kill too many monsters, now that the treasure is gone, there won't be any profit reason for people to go into the dungeon anymore, and your economy will collapse.

So you need to manage the dungeon and keep the monster population high, but not too high. This is what the Shadow Lord was complaining about. He thinks that if they evacuate the dungeon the expensive monsters they are currently harvesting may stop manifesting/spawning/being born, and all that will be left to harvest is mushrooms and slimes, which are not worth a lot of money.

Laios' group had an assignment from the island lord to try and find the giant doors on the 6th floor that nobody had been able to get past. That was what they were trying to do when they ran into the red dragon and Falin got eaten!

Despite everything, at that time Laios' party was the number one team on the island, capable of going the deepest into the dungeon.

Kabru's team is also considered pretty good, despite how often we see them dying - this should tell you how bad many of the teams that go in are! Most of them don't accomplish much or anything... Just like a boom town, where most miners go into debt trying to find gold, and only a few strike it rich.

This is what Rin is talking about in her first appearance, when she scolds Kabru for being too modest around other adventurers. She wants those other people to know that they are not going into the dungeon for profit and that they're not like the rest of them, dream-chasing fools hoping to make a payday.

She's offended anyone would mistake them for people like that, meanwhile Kabru would rather keep their motivations obscure and not advertise that they're in the dungeon on a moral crusade, not a financial one.

It should also be noted that the dungeon has a lot of criminal activity going on inside of it, because it's not well monitored and it's easy to conceal your activities. There's also a population of people who can "no longer live on the surface" for various reasons, such as being wanted criminals, exiles hiding to avoid vigilante justice, people too poor to leave because they wasted all their money trying to get rich and now they can't afford to live on the surface, or leave the island.

Essentially there is a population of homeless people living in the dungeon, eating anything they can scavenge, begging and stealing to stay alive. This could even be part of the taboo on eating monsters in the dungeon - that's something poor and desperate people do, and doing it is seen as a sign of how low Laios' party has fallen.

This is also why Kabru is so worried about the Touden party: their financials are a mess, but they keep going into the dungeon. Why? People think they are good, but maybe they're secretly criminals? Are they on the run from the law? Kabru has no idea, since "they just really love monsters and this is fun" is not a motivation ANYONE ELSE ON EARTH HAS.

The Toudens can't even say "we're monster researchers trying to write a book on monsters." They're just hobbyists, they just like them a lot. Kui tells us that Laios was encouraged to become a monster researcher but the studying was too intense for him.

It would be like finding out someone who works in a coal mine that kills 80% of the miners doesn't actually care about being paid, they just loooove coal and want to be around coal all the time.

#dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #dunmeshi #talking mushroom #psa #laios touden #kabru #kabru of utaya #dungeon meshi research

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shalomniscient · 6 months ago

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you’re seven years old and barefoot on the beach of yaoguang shoal with sand between your toes and salt-brushed wind in your hair when ningguang makes her first and only promise to you.

“when we grow up, i’ll marry you.”

the words are big, heavy on her child’s tongue but she speaks them with conviction nonetheless. her hands are laced with yours, your small fingers slotting perfectly with one another. the sunset makes her eyes glow like how you imagine the amber does at jueyun karst. you’re too young, too childish to really understand the weight of her vow—but you nod with a smile, squeezing her hands tighter.

“i’ll wait for you,” you say, hoping she can hear the sincerity in your voice. it’s a foolish hope, because you know that ningguang knows you better than you even know yourself. she returns your smile with one of her own, her hand never leaving yours as you walk back to your village, the sunset at your backs. the light paints ningguang in gold, and you can’t help but think at seven years old that this is how things should be—hand in hand with the girl you know you love before you even knew the meaning of the word, barefoot together in the sand.

you’re seven years old when you learn how things should be, but you’re fifteen years old when you learn how things are.

ningguang leaves for the city. she tells you before she goes, of course, holds you close as you weep selfishly into her shoulder. her hands are gentle as she sifts them through your hair, along your scalp and down the nape of your neck before wrapping around your slim, hunger-carved shoulders. i have to go, she’d said, or else how will i afford our wedding? and you’d wanted to tell her that it didn’t matter at all what kind of wedding you had, as long as she stayed with you—that all the riches in the world are worthless without her. but for as much as she knows you, you know her, and you know that ningguang is not to be deterred once she sets her mind on something, so you send her off with a delicately packed mora meat and a prayer in your heart that she’ll come back soon.

you’re fifteen years old when you learn how things are, and you’re twenty-one years old when you learn how things will be.

it’s been six years since ningguang left. even in the backwater village you call home, tales of ningguang’s exploits reach your ears. how she runs circles around liyue’s businessmen and businesswomen, how she effortlessly finds her place amidst liyue’s social elite, how she’s rising, rising, rising like an unstoppable eclipsing star. she keeps writing to you, always keeping you updated on her progress, and you always write back, filling your letters with the mundanity of your day-to-day life—about the way the glaze lillies have been blooming, or about the way everyone around you says you’d make a fine wife.

my parents are getting restless, you confess in one letter. i’m getting older, and they think i should get married soon.

the reply that returns the next week is simple, but succint. i haven’t forgotten. wait for me, please. and you know she hasn’t, which is why it kills you when your new husband forbids you from ever writing to her again. you weep yourself to sleep on your side of the bed for the next week following your wedding night. the distress of wondering—if ningguang is worried, if she’s upset, or worse, if she’s hurt by you—drives you near insane to the point you worry yourself sick. your husband only tells you to stop holding on to naive childhood promises and perform your duties as a wife. it is the only thing you are good for, now.

you’re twenty-one years old when you learn how things will be, but you’re twenty-nine when you learn that things can change.

in the years you have been married, your husband has grown—not in character, but in wealth. he is rich enough, now, to take you and himself from your village and to the big city to further his business. a small spark flickers to life in your chest that you might see her again, but it fizzles out when your husband makes it clear that you are just to stay at home. you don’t have to worry your pretty little head about anything other than the house, he’d said. i’ll give you everything you need. and you know better than to argue with him, so you resign yourself to staying at home, spending your days gazing up at that palace in the sky and wondering if its lady even remembers you—or if she, like you, has decided to let go of naive childhood promises. after all, she has the world now, can see it from the edges of her floating sanctuary. what need has she of the memory of being barefoot in the sand at seven years old?

(selfishly, you pray she hasn’t forgotten, even if she has no need for remembrance. you pray she chooses to remember.)

change comes when a woman in a white fur jacket and the prettiest emerald eyes you’ve ever seen breaks into your house. it’s certainly a very unorthodox meeting, and you come dangerously close to throwing the knife you were using to finely dice some cabbage at her. the woman only laughs, nimbly prying it from your hands and setting it on the counter. before you can even ask her what in rex lapis’s name she’s doing in your house, she says the words that make your blood run cold.

the tianquan wants to see you.

ningguang wants to see you.

the woman promptly leaves after delivering her message and additionally telling you not to breath a word of it to your husband, leaving you standing in your kitchen reeling from the shock. the mora meat you were working on putting together is forgotten as you swallow your nerves and take the chance you’ve waited nine years for. you’re nearly sick with it by the time you’ve ascended to the jade chamber in all of its opulence, feeling like you stick out like a sore thumb.

but the moment you see ningguang again, everything else fades to white noise. archons, she’s as beautiful as the day you last saw her. she was lovely dressed in commoner’s clothes, and she is just as lovely dressed in finery no doubt worth more than a year’s worth of your rent. she will never be anything other than lovely in your eyes.

“it’s been a while,” she says softly, the first to break the silence. you nearly cry at finally hearing her voice again. instead, you stifle it with a wet chuckle.

“only took fourteen years.”

ningguang manages a small laugh, lips curving upward in a smile you know—you remember—is reserved only for you. she offers you a seat by her desk, and two secretaries file in to place a tea set down by both of you, before disappearing as quickly as they came. and then ningguang is telling you about the real reason she asked to see you; your husband, as you are quite unsurprised, is involved with some sort of fraud, and the prosecution—the tianquan’s office—needs a witness. namely, you. after all, who better than the wife of the man himself? you try not to let your disappointment show, though, and you bite your tongue to stop yourself from asking her if she remembers—or worse, if she missed you. your conversation with her is pure business, and when you descend from the chamber later, it’s only with the taste of sweet tea on your tongue and half your heart; the other half you seem to have left with her, up in the clouds.

your husband, to his displeasure and rage, finds himself in millelith custody the very next day. and the very next week, you, to your pleasure and joy, find yourself lacking a husband. the millelith who take him away politely point you to an office down the street ran by a pink-haired half-adeptus, who takes care of your divorce affairs with a cheery smile in less than four days. you’re both scared and impressed—is this just how people move in the big city…? you don’t have time to dwell on the question, because unfortunately, without your husband you are also without your income, and without your income you are also without your house. which would be a very big problem; were it not for the fact that ningguang once again invites you to the jade chamber, but this time, to stay with her. you nearly decline because of the sheer insanity of the request, but the part of your heart there with her wins out. you relent, and now, you find yourself playing house with the tianquan of the liyue qixing.

it’s almost frightening, how quickly you fall back into old habits. ningguang, you find, hasn’t changed much. she is still whip-smart, still as cunning as she is devious, but she is still just as kind as she was before. something in you aches viscerally when you see the way she speaks with the children, offering them candies and goodies as she goes. (things neither of you had the luxury in indulging as children.) you smile and tell her, you haven’t changed at all. she only looks at you and returns it with, have you? the answer eluded you at the time, but thinking about it more, you would say that yes, i have. but the parts that loved you never did.

(you don’t say this out loud, of course. it’s too early, and the chasm of years between you both yawns achingly large. but by the glint of her eyes, you think she knows. and if she didn’t, the time and care she spent relearning you would have told her as well.)

since you’re not sure how long ningguang will let you stay, you decide to make the most of it. you’re almost thankful for the nine dull years you spent with your former husband—since at the very least, it taught you how to be a half decent wife. it’s all you’re good for now, after all. ningguang’s meals are cooked by you, and you’re the one who brings her tea in the afternoons and evenings. you talk with her over your cups like nothing ever happened, and you walk with her round the perimeter of the jade chamber as the sun sets, her hand close enough to hold. rumors dance in the wind like dandelions about the tianquan’s new companion; some call you an old friend, others, a lover. the answer is somehow both, yet neither. she is everything to you, and more.

(and you are everything to her and more. the infinte she has been searching for her whole life is right there in your eyes. it always has been.)

you’re twenty nine years old when you realise things can change, and you’re thirty years old when you remember how things should be.

ningguang takes a rare day off, and invites you on a little excursion to yaoguang shoal. it’s been a year since you started living with her. a year since you’ve been freed from a man you never loved, and a year since you’ve come to realise that it’s because you’re still in love with ningguang—and that perhaps, you never stopped. it’s not as difficult as an epiphany to come to terms with, but it does make your chest ache every time you look at her. especially now, in this place, where the waves carry salt-brushed wind and memories of a distant time. the sun hangs low in the sky, and ningguang is kicking off her heels, barefoot in the sand. all of a sudden you’re seven years old again, watching her watch the waves and wondering if her eyes glow the same like the amber at jueyun karst. you slip your own footwear off too, standing by her side in the sand, the water lapping at your ankles. she speaks first.

“i still remember,” she murmurs, and your heart catches in your throat. when she looks at you, it’s with all the bare innocence she looked at you with twenty-three years ago. “do you?”

“of course,” you answer, without a beat of hesitation. “how could i forget?” how could i forget you?

ningguang smiles. “then you remember what i promised you here?”

“yes,” you breathe. “i remember.”

the woman before you exhales, the sound nearly drowned out by the sigh of the waves as they crash onto the shore. her geo vision glimmers, and a crystalline box manifests in her hands—her hands that tremble as they open it, revealing a simple golden band inside. “will you forgive me for taking so long?” she whispers, and you clasp your hands over her own, steadying them. you rest your forehead against hers, caught halfway between a sob and a laugh.

“i would have waited for you forever, ningguang.”

she exhales again. catches her breath. “then, will you let me fulfill my promise and marry me?”

you answer her with the only possible answer, catching her lips in a kiss twenty-three years in the making.

yes.

#sev.scribbles #ningguang #ningguang x reader #haha what is pacing #dont know her #anyway first ning piece go brr #also yea she might have pulled some strings to get ur mans into a jail cell #but he was a dick anyway so isallgood #anyway. cranked this out in like 3 hrs and it is now 3am so if its bad. well you know why

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lyltinc · 14 days ago

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thinking about episode 26 again... it's unfortunate that chip killing that goblin to protect ollie never got to play out with significance in later episodes, because it's so interesting! even in the rolleds, condi and bizly mention wanting to bring it up later, because it's something that chip desperately didn't want to do, for fear of losing the good that arlin instilled in him. for fear of becoming the bad that his brother bruised on him.

because it's so ironic that jay says "eventually you're going to have to kill something", but the impetus of chip's departure from skullslice and from reuben was that first and only kill he was driven into.

and when a goblin gets ollie with a natural 20, he freaks the fuck out! of course he does!! he cares so so much for ollie, the younger kid he's protecting, and he responds the way his own once-brother, who, a long, long, long time ago, took on the dirty fighting of the streets for chip: with brutal, fierce violence. to snap bloody knuckles across the jaw of the world.

in fact, he steals this goblin's life the way he stole his first under reuben's orders. he stakes his swords right through his chest.

but he doesn't have time to dwell on this, on the blood on his hands, because there's ollie lying limp and lifeless on the floor. and chip's trying to shake him into awareness but he doesn't have any magical ability to heal, like gillion and jay do. he has to wait for jay to come around to get ollie up.

and then. the compass. because of his self-serving actions, ollie literally grows up too fast, and chip hurts this kid that he cares so deeply about. i have so so much more to say about this part of his arc in particular, especially to do with lizzie and chip, but! the point is that when he hurts ollie, albeit unintentionally, he can't help but see reuben in himself. he never calls ollie his younger brother, because reuben called him his little brother, and he's so scared of being like him. of hurting people like him.

that "inability to heal" (aka inability to help ollie) comes back around in episode 42, when gillion and chip are spending time in the infirmary. as chip jokes about how he doesn't have any divine magic of his own that can help people, aka heal them, gillion responds: "maybe it's your destiny to help people! ...i hope it is." and that "different kinds of people need different kinds of healing."

at this point, chip fundamentally does not see himself as 'someone who helps others', symbolized by his literal inability to access healing magic. in this scene in particular, he's been down for a while because of what happened to ollie, and because he feels as though he's in fault and has no way to fix it.

but gillion calls this out, telling him that there are different ways to help people, and then directly after this! chip incites the crew into helping the people of edison kingdom in his own way, stealing from the rich to give back to kids who remind him of himself.

so all of this to say. i think chip jrwi is cool

#lylt's riptiding #jrwi chip #ykw?#reuben price #jrwi riptide

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axiina · 1 year ago

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I saw your post about writing for Coriolanus Snow Andi was thinking classic enemies to lovers nsfw I’ll give you free liberty with everything else 💕

'I hate you' is new 'I love you'

Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x capitol!reader (gender neutral afab)

Summary: When your professor tells you to come to an agreement with your enemy, and you take 'come' too literally.

Words: 3.2k

Themes: smut, nsfw

Warnings: using of 'you' to reader, set before events of tbosas so no actual spoilers, more like academic rivals to lovers but they want to fight at some point so I guess it counts, NSFW | public sex (or more semi-public), unprotected sex (wrap it before tap it), p in v sex, kinda toxic but it's enemies to lovers, more like enemies who fuck, Coryo is pretty rough and possessive, marking, making out, idiots in love but they prefer fighting with each other

Author's note: I found some free time between studying, so I decided that I can no longer delay. English is not my first language so i hope that i didn't do too much mistakes. It is possible that a single "she" or "her" will appear here because I changed the concept during writing and I do not know if I got rid of everything. Let me know whether to stay with the use of 'you' or maybe replace it with personal pronouns or 'y/n'. I hope it's not written very awkwardly and you will like it!!

Coriolanus Snow is a peculiar person. Most people love him. Nice, classy, handsome and rich from a wealthy family. What more could one want? However, one of Coriolanus' traits that everyone seems to turn a blind eye to is his two-facedness. Some say this is merely a symptom of his cunning and wits. He knows when and how to behave to make his counterpart happy. You are not one of those people. Saying that you and Coriolanus Snow don't like each other is a huge understatement. You guys hate each other. From the very beginning when you both met at the academy it was known that you would cause a lot of problems. Too much of a character difference, or perhaps too much of a similarity between the two. However, this is not what is crucial. Whatever it is, it makes you two most likely to kill each other if you could. Every move you make you do to screw each other up. To prove who is better.

Professor Satyria's pleas for you to finally come to an agreement are of little use. The conflict must go on, and neither of you has any intention of giving up.

You like the way things are working out. At first, Snow was annoying and you didn't understand how people couldn't see him for what he really was. Fake. Now he is still annoying, but getting under his skin has become a sort of routine. Quite a pleasant one.

"You have to get along with each other and set a good example as rightful citizens of the Capitol, otherwise the Academy will draw out the consequences."

Professor Satyria's words continue to ring in your ears as you get ready to go home after finishing classes and doing punishment work. On the one hand, you don't want something as silly as arguing to weigh on your future, but on the other hand, reaching out to agree is like admitting you were wrong. Failure.

"Wherever I am you must also appear. Are you obsessed with me?" Behind your back, you heard a familiar, annoyingly kind voice, in which you could sense some arrogance. You groaned turning around to see no one else but Coriolanus.

"Don't you have anything better to do? People are finally getting tired of your idiocy?" Your words, however, did not budge the blond. His expression remained unchanged. One that might make most people think he is a nice person. You, however, have known him long enough to see right through it. Perfect. Too perfect.

"We need to talk. A positive outcome for both sides. It will interest you." Well, the threat of Satyria. He is the first one to extend his hand for agreement. Where is the trick? You look at him suspiciously without saying a word, and so Snow takes it as a sign that you are thinking about the proposition. "Do you have free time? Maybe we could go out somewhere together?"

The suggestion makes you burst into laughter. "With you? No thanks, I'll pass on this pleasure."

Coriolanus is not surprised by your answer. He knew it wouldn't be that easy. Accepting rejection, however, is not his strong point. He is annoyed by your behaviour, but he bites his tongue to avoid responding in the same spiteful way. Instead, he doesn't give up.

"I know we were never on good terms, but I want this war between us to end. I hope we can put behind us all the bad things that happened between us and start fresh. What do you think about this?" he says, sounding quite sincere.

"Let me think." You say and sigh, pondering the answer, which is obvious, but you can't let go of a little malice. "No."

The expression on Snow's face became more serious. It seems that your refusal offended his pride. But he doesn't show it in his tone of voice.

"Why not?" he asks and you notice how he clenches his jaw and his gaze becomes unpleasant.

You enjoy the view and it fills you with satisfaction. "Because you think that with a pretty face and fake politeness, you can get anything. Maybe it works with others, but I'm not that stupid. Additionally, you are damn annoying. That's why."

The expression on Snow's face becomes dark. Typical when he fails to get what he wants. His usual tone is completely gone. His face is twisted with anger. He still tries to maintain a polite voice. The attempt fails.

"Do you want to repeat it?" he asks through his teeth. It's obvious that you've hit one of his sensitive points. That was the plan.

"Exhausting, isn't it? Hiding behind the mask of a nice and put-together boy from a highly placed family who is a veritable ideal is tiring, isn't it?" A mockery can be heard in your voice. Coriolanus is very sensitive to it.

"What do you think you know about me?" He asks through clenched teeth, his tone no longer artificially polite, it is filled with rage. Your mockery has really gotten to him. He tries to calm down, but it's all in vain. Coriolanus has never had problems with self-control, but something about you makes him ready to abandon everything. You manage to get him off balance with ease. In his head, he has one plan. To destroy you.

"Do you think you pretend so well?" You burst out laughing and shake your head. You know you shouldn't say such things. The academy is practically empty, and Coriolanus's angry enough can be unpredictable. However, you can't help but point out everything that annoys you about him. "It's actually quite easy to see what kind of person you are. You look at people with disgust, but when they look in your direction, you suddenly change dramatically. how fake you are to everyone. I wonder how they don't see it. How empty and shallow you are."

"You don't know anything about me!" Snow shouts at you, his face twisted with rage. He is barely able to control himself. He doesn't even try to hide it anymore. He stares at you with hatred in his eyes.

"Don't you dare assume that you know everything about me. You don't know me one bit. You don't know what my life is like. Don't think so highly of yourself. You aren't better than me." He continues, his voice getting louder with every word he says. You really hit his sensitive spot.

"I don't know everything and I'm not going to pretend otherwise. For me, the most important thing is acts, and in your case, they are fake and two-faced. You despise people, and you yourself are at the bottom." Irritation takes over. You know that at any moment you can say one word too many if you haven't already. However, someone has to talk it all out for him. Adrenaline makes you take a step closer to the upset boy without considering the possible consequences.

Snow seems to be on the verge of a breakdown. His fists are clenched and his eyes are wide open with rage. He is breathing hard, trying to control himself. He's not used to being treated this way by anyone. He has come this far over the years, solely because of himself and what role he has taken in society. You really succeeded in hurting his pride. "I warn you right now. Don't mock me any further."

"Why? What will you do? hit me? do it, I dare you. Then everyone will see how "perfect" you really are." You know the situation is starting to get dangerous. However, you come closer. It's stupid, you know it, and yet you do it. Maybe it's the way his reactions give you satisfaction, or maybe it's the way he looks at you.

You can see the hatred oozing from his eyes when they are locked on yours. His face is full of rage, his breathing heavy and his muscles tense.

He takes a step toward you with a clenched fist. You can see his knuckles turning white. He grabs you and presses you against the wall, his body against yours.

A second later, you feel him pressing you against the wall tighter than before, and his hand grips your throat.

You feel the warmth of his breath on your lips. Your heart is pounding as if it wants to jump out of your chest. You feel a strange sensation in your lower abdomen. His eyes are cold, yet they make a pleasant shiver run through your body. His face is right next to yours, flesh pressing against yours. It was a matter of split seconds as you two pressed your lips to each other in an aggressive and hungry kiss.

He returns the kiss, wrapping his free hand around you. He seems to enjoy the kiss as much as you do.

You can feel his body trembling as he still tries to keep control of his overwhelming emotions, or maybe it's because of the situation you're in.

The two of you kiss aggressively. Snow's body shakes as he fights between his desire and how much you get on his nerves. You feel how rough but passionate his kiss is.

He draws you closer and your bodies press against each other. The friction of your bodies makes you uncontrollable over the muffled whimpers you make. You feel the bulge forming in his pants rubbing against your body.

The situation seems hazy, and only fragments register in your mind. How you both enter the bathroom without stopping your hungry and clumsy kisses, and your hands work to get rid of clothes that only makes it difficult. How Coriolanus presses your body against the wall slamming his hips against yours.

All this is to express yourself and give vent to all the negative emotions you have been holding for years.

Snow's body is now almost completely controlled by his emotions. His movements seem full of hatred and at the same time passion. He just wants to express himself using his flesh to claim you as his own.

You feel as if you are on fire, your body moves and reacts according to your desires. The tension that has built up between you for years is finally released, and it all comes out as raw passion.

His fast and aggressive movements make the place where your bodies meet burn in a pleasant way, and you think to yourself that it will be a miracle if you walk normally tomorrow. His dick stretches you nicely and his movements make your inside sting slightly. It's not a problem for now. Not now when your legs are wrapped around his waist and the only sounds you can make right now are moaning and repeating his name like a mantra.

Your body trembles at how rough his movements are, but you don't care now. The most important thing for you now is to show him how much you hate him. A broken moan leaves your lips when he reaches deeper.

Coriolanus feels your legs tighten around him. He moves slower now but is more passionate and rough. He holds your hips tightly, not caring if it is uncomfortable for you. His lips move to your neck, where he bites as if he is trying to unload all the emotions you are causing you this way.

His hips buck firmly against you. Each thrust makes your body more tired and aching but at the same time, it makes the whole experience even more pleasurable. If someone told you that you would end up having sex with your biggest rival in the academy bathroom, you would laugh in that person's face. There you are, panting, with your arms around his neck when Coriolanus Snow is abusing your cunt sensitive from too much friction.

Coriolanus brings his lips closer to your ear. His warm and irregular breathing makes a shiver go through your body. "Do you like it when I claim you as mine?" He purrs, his voice still filled with desire.

"I hate you, I hate you so much," You exhale in a trembling voice that takes a lot of trouble to keep from cracking. You bite and suck at the smooth skin of his neck, leaving there dark marks. "I hate you, Coriolanus Snow."

"I hate you too," Snow says with a low growl as he continues to hold you. He bites your shoulder, leaving marks on your skin. His moans are muffled by your skin, which he touches constantly, as if afraid that at any moment you might escape and leave behind only a faint memory.

You hate him, but you enjoy him. You are pleased when he takes you as his own. You are excited when he uses your body. You feel his passion and desire through his body. You feel his raw passion and it's hard to hate him now.

"oh go to hell" You hiss and bite your lower lip to stop your moans, feeling him moving faster.

He doesn't care if he hurts you or not. All he cares about is that you belong to him right now. His hips slam against yours in an aggressive peace. The bathroom is filled with sinful noises because you don't even think about the fact that someone might come in and hear them.

"you may have already fallen in love, but with me, it's not so easy" A trembling laugh leaves your lips. You feel your head getting foggier and foggier. It's hard for you to put together a meaningful sentence, "but you're doing a good job" a loud moan leaves your mouth. you close your eyes and throw your head back "mmm my sweet toy."

He hears your moans of pleasure, and his eyes close with a smile. He has won and he knows it. Snow always lands on top. He presses you against the wall with his body even tighter. His movements become more sloppy and deeper as if he wants to bury himself inside you. His body trembles as his lips leave broken moans and whimpers.

Passion is so strong that you can almost forget about hatred. You can almost fall in love with Coriolanus Snow. Almost. But you know that what you feel now is only lust, and you know that it's all temporary.

Not him. Not the arrogant boy whose whole life is based on lies. Not that boy who doesn't care about anyone. Not that boy with a beautiful face and mesmerizing blue eyes. Not him.

You press closer to his body, almost clinging to him as a wave of pleasure sweeps over your body.

Coriolanus lets out a raspy throaty moan feeling your walls pulsate around him. His voice is low and shaky. He doesn't seem to notice anything except the way you cling to his body. He moves faster and harder, making sure he satisfies you completely.

Snow is fully immersed in feelings. He can't think clearly or rationally. He only knows that he has to claim you, that he has to satisfy his needs. He wants to feel you and make the most of the situation. All his thoughts and desires are focused on you. His hip movements speed up as he reaches the climax. He hides his face in your neck to muffle his moans. His body stiffs as he comes inside you.

Your arms wrapped around his neck, while his wrapped around your waist. you cling to each other, still not making contact with the real world as your breathing slowly calms down.

What happened in that bathroom is over, they both return to reality. Snow steps back slightly and helps you stand on your own two feet. He looks at you with heavy eyes. All the emotions he had been hiding inside him had finally been released.

He has won and he knows it. He has succeeded. But what now? Was it really worth it? This is not a question for now. Coriolanus does not look far into that future with his thoughts.

You look at each other in silence. Slowly you begin to realize what you have done and now you look at each other awkwardly and somewhat panicked.

Coriolanus is the first to break the silence. His cheeks are flushed and his breathing is faster. The passion he felt a minute ago still lingers in his heart, something he tries to hide from you. He looks at you with a somewhat absent and uncertain gaze

"Do you think we should forget what just happened?" He tries to make his voice sound normal as if nothing had happened.

"Definitely." The words leave your lips before you have time to think. You stare at each other in silence for a few more moments and begin to quickly put on your clothes.

Snow is surprised at how quickly you agree with him. He needs to make sure this is the end of what just happened between the two of you, so he adds.

"If anyone asks, it never happened." He now looks at you with a somewhat panicked expression on his face.

"You don't have to tell me," you scoff, buttoning your shirt, "if you tell even one soul, I'll kill you, I swear."

Coriolanus looks at you with small amusement while fixing his jacket. "I hope you won't become obsessed with me after this."

"Maybe in your dreams," you say with a slight smile fixing the collar of his shirt. " you better be careful that you are the one who will be lost in memories of me." Before you leave the bathroom you stop in front of the mirror and fix your uniform and hair. Coriolanus smiles for a moment but then quickly clears his throat and tries to look cold.

You both come out of the bathroom, look at each other and part your lips, as if to say something to each other, but you look at each other in silence "Now everything is back to normal. We can still hate each other," you say, but this does not improve your mood at all.

"It never happened," Snow says trying to look you in the eyes, wondering if you're thinking about it too. He wonders if what he feels is real, or if it's just a moment of passion.

"Never" You agree by nodding your head. Your gaze goes down to his mouth. As you look into his eyes again without a moment's thought you move closer to him and press your lips to his in-hungry kiss. He kisses you back wrapping his arms around you to bring your body closer.

You parts away after some time and you both catch your breath for a moment after this passionate kiss. Coriolanus is completely consumed with passion and there is nothing in his mind but you.

You move away and nod to each other as if you have just made a deal and each is walking in your own direction in a much better mood.

Maybe that's not exactly what Professor Satyria meant when she said you two should come to an agreement, but it certainly worked.

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henry7931 · 6 months ago

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Got Your Body B*tch!

Drew:

This is Marco, he’s a raging asshole (for a lack of better words). I’ve known him all of my life, down to when we were young kids. And he’s always been a huge pain.

Marco, is the type of guy who’s cocky, always gets what he wants, comes from really nice rich parents, and incredibly insensitive.

He’s been that way forever.

I thought I was done with him when I left to go to college. That was until I walked in to my college apartment and saw Marco unpacking bags.

“Drewphus! I didn’t know you’re my roomie. You’re going to have to leave the apartment when bring a girl over, okay? Oh also, no touching my shit. I don’t want you get poverty all over it.”

If looks could kill in a moment, I swear Marco would be dead on the ground right now.

“I’m kidding…. Well, kinda. So here is your space, I hope you don’t mind but i already called the bigger bedroom since i was here first.”

“That’s fine Marco,” I say biting my tongue.

“Great, well have fun unpacking whatever you got in those two suit cases. I’m gonna have some private Marco time if you know what I mean”

Marco makes a jerking off hand gesture, I just roll my eyes and head into my new room.

A few hours past after I unpack and settle in, I order a pizza for dinner and lay back in bed.

All I can think about is how I’m about to have to live in the same quarters as Marco. The same guy I cant stand to be around.

Ugh…

So just like I always do when I get this stressed— it’s time to jerk off. (Something I’m sure Marco has already done 12 times today)

I checked my phone to see how much time I have until the pizza arrives, one hour. Great!

I pull off my shorts and open up my laptop. I feel a little embarrassed to admit this but I the kind of porn I like isn’t for everyone. I have a foot fetish. And not just that I this thing for jock athletes and their feet. I hate how much it turns me on especially since it’s guys like Marco that really get me going.

I start scrolling through and see this really hot jock with big feet. I click on his page. His username says AlphaAlex, he’s tan, dirty brown curly hair, six pack, big muscles…

I start mentally picturing him with me in the room, fantasizing him taking off his sneakers and dirty gym socks in front of me.

He says to me, “Hey Drew, do you mind rubbing my feet? I’ve had a really long practice and they are killing me.”

He puts them on my lag and says, “sorry if they stink!”

He lets me rub them and I ask him if I can smell them…

He says, “Sure, you can do whatever you want with them. After you’re done with my big jock feet, do you mind massaging my cock next?”

I stare deeply into AlphaAlex’s massive bulge on the screen. Almost about to nut…

“BRO!!! WHAT THE F*CK DREWFUS! I KNEW YOU WERE A HOMO BUT YOU’RE A FOOT FREAK TOO?”

Cum squirts onto my chest just as I turn to see Marco standing at my door with his cellphone recording in hand.

“MARCO!!! ARE YOU SERIOUS?!?”

“Bro, wait until I show this to everyone! Now everybody going to know you’re a foot freak!!”

“MARCO PLEASE NOOO!!!”

I hop out of bed and Marco turns around and I chase him butt naked through our apartment.

He screams, “Stop chasing me foot freak!!!”

Marco shuts the door and I feel my stomach turn. I beg him to delete the video but he doesn’t respond.

As I go back to my room, I cry into my pillow… I feel so mortified.

I lay back, wiping my tears and say, “If someone could hear me, I wish I can get revenge on Marco. No I want more! I want everything Marco has…”

I cry myself to sleep, nervous for what the next day had in store for me.

The next morning, I wake up feeling kinda off. It takes me a second but I realize that somehow I’m not in my room!

In a panic, I rush to get out of bed until I come across a mirror.

That’s when I see Marco’s reflection looking back at me!!!

“Holy shit!!”

I feel a moment of fear hit me… but then I remember my wish last night. Someone out there listened to me.

I look at Marco’s face and then down at his body. Hes a dick but…. He is hot…

I pull off Marco’s shorts he slept in and his 10 inch hard morning wood comes flopping out.

“Holy fuck…”

I grasp it in Marco’s hand, which I guess is my hand now?

Nervous, yet kinda excited, I wasn’t sure what to do.

I looked down at the throbbed cock in my new new hands and immediately start jerking off.

I hop back into Marco’s bed and bring his foot up to his face. He actually has some sexy feet!

I start licking his foot from heal to toe. I relish in knowing the fact that he would go insane if he saw me with his body right now.

I keep tugging away at his cock and this maybe the best jerk off session in my life.

I twist Marco’s nipple and let out a soft moan.

“Fuckkk Marco your nipples are sooo sensitive,” I say aloud.

Hearing his voice sends me into a frenzy, just the thought that I can say anything, do anything as him. I have complete control of this dickhole!

I stand up out of bed and dash to the mirror, I grin at his reflection and jerk his cock even faster.

“Drew, it feels soo good, keep jerking my cock Drew. My body belongs to you now, my big feet, my sensitive nipples, my sexy abs… FUCKKKK THIS IS SOOO HOTTTT!!!”

I nearly screaming by this point and I feel every muscle in Marco’s body tighten.

I’m tugging so fast now and then cum sprays all over the place.

I fall back onto Marco’s bed covered in his nut. I look at his covered hand and lick it clean.

I lay back and gently rub his fingers back and forth on his stomach up to his chest.

Then reality started to sink….

Wait, if I’m Marco… what happened to my body?

“AHHHHHHHH!!!!!!”

I hear a distant familiar scream coming from the background.

“Oh shit…”

Heavy footsteps coming charging my direction and before I can even get up the door slams open.

Out of the door is my body…

My eyes get big, I don’t think I’ve ever been that angry. My face is blood red and he starts to charge at me.

“Hold up!” I say hopping on top of the bed.

“DREW YOU PIECE OF SHIT IM GOING TO END YOU!!”

He balls up a fist and starts to pull back. Before he can reach me I grab the balled fist.

I guess Marco’s body has quicker reflex’s.

I pull him in and toss him on the bed. I pin him down and say, “I’m a lot stronger than you now. You wanna talk instead?”

“F YOU!!!”

I twist my former weaker arm and he shouts out, “OWWW SHIT, FINNNE!!!”

I get hop off my body and let him turn over.

He glances me over and says, “did you just jerk off in my body?”

I look down at the undeniable evidence.

“Yeah, I did. It was amazing.”

“You piece of—”

I look down and notice the tent in my boxers.

“Wait are you turned on right now?” I say to him.

“NO IM NOT!”

“You have a very noticeable boner right now.”

“Shut up! No I don’t!”

“What was it for you? Seeing your body all naked? Or was it when I pinned you down?”

He says nothing to me, just looks away.

“I mean you have very hot body Marco, theirs no shame in being turned on by it. Hell, I can’t stand you and I just had the best jerk off session in my life. What’s getting all hot and bothered? Is your hairy pits?” I hold his armpit up and step closer to him.

“Or maybe it’s the sight of your own cock.” I say shaking his semi-hard dick at him.

I move even closer to him. He looks like he’s in a trance.

“Oh you know what always gets me hard. Big manly feet,” I kick his foot up and show it to him.

I place his foot on my former bulge and start rubbing it.

“Does that feel good?”

He still say nothing but lets me keep going.

I push him further on the bed and pull off the brief I went to bed in my last.

My dick comes out standing straight up and leaking from the tip.

I place his foot on it and start toying with it using his toes.

He lets out a moan.

I look at my former face and he’s so turned on right now.

I pull his foot away and he says softly, “please don’t stop…”

“Oh you don’t want me to stop?”

“No… please Drew… it’s throbbing…”

“Well you’re gonna have to finish the job yourself, I’m going to shower and head to the pool.”

“WHAT!??”

“Yeah the pools still open, got to make the most out of these last few warm days Drew.”

“YOU!!! Drew, you can’t just leave me like this!!! I want my body back right now!”

“Sorry DREW! But this wasn’t my doing necessarily. If anything this is karma for you being such a prick all these years. Now run along and go take care of that boner little gay boy.”

I look at the corner of Marco’s room and see his dirty sock.

“Oh here you go! A gift from me to you, enjoy!”

I give my former throbbing dick a pat and I run off to the shower, leaving Marco in his mixed emotional state.

I rinse off quickly and come back out, I walk back into Marco’s room and see he’s still on the bed— sniffing the dirty sock and wanking one out.

“Oh fuck you’re back already!” he says to me.

He looks so pathetic right now.

“Geez, just stay right where you are.”

I drop the towel and get into bed with him. I grab my former cock and push it into Marco’s throat.

“HOLY!!!!” he screams out.

I suck off my former body while Marco’s moans frantically.

I feel him running my former hands in his hair and I feel myself getting a little excited from it. It’s kinda hot being this aggressive and sucking my former body off.

He lets out a loud grunt and cums down my new throat.

“Better?,” I say whipping the excess cum off my mouth.

“God yeah,” he says taking heavy breaths.

I look at my former body in the eyes and for a split second I thought about kissing him. But then reality sinks in… that’s still Marco inside.

I get out of bed and say, “I’m heading down to the pool.”

I put on his bathing suit and he says to me, “Drew, I’m sorry for being such a dick.”

“I know you are,” I say back.

“Can we try to fix this?”

“I’m sorry to Marco but I don’t think we fix this, these may be our bodies forever. So you might as well get comfortable.”

I left him sitting in his now former room naked and silent.

When I get down to the pool it doesn’t take me long to notice others noticing me.

Some girls and some guys, I look over at some of the guys and even wink at one. He is super cute and fit.

I hop on to a float and lay back soaking up the sun. I wait to see if that guys going to make a move when the ultimate buzz kill shows up.

It’s Marco in my body.

“Sup,” he says to me.

“Just trying to relax.”

“Yeah well, we still need to talk.”

“We don’t now f*ck off.”

He rolls his eyes and walks over a chair by the pool.

Soon that guy from earlier comes over.

“Hey, what’s up?” he says to me with a grin.

“Just laying out wait for you to come over,” I say with a smirk.

“Oh is that so?” he says flirtatiously.

He gets into the pool and now he’s right next to me.

“I’m Lois.”

“Marco,” I say introducing myself to him.

“So do you live here?”

“Yeah I’m on the second floor.”

“Nice, I’m on the third.”

We flirt and have small talk for a minute until he asks me out.

“Sure you wanna do tonight?” I say to him.

“Oh man, yeah I’m down,” he tries not to be too excited.

“Great, let’s say 7?”

“Yeah 7 works for me.”

“Cool,” I say grinning at him.

I peak out of the corner of my eye and see my Marco coming up to the pool.

“What are you doing?” he says to me.

“Oh hey Drew, this is my roommate.”

“Oh nice, I’m—”

“Don’t care dude, I need to talk to you Marco.”

“Uh okay, sorry Lois. I’ll see you tonight?”

“Yeah for sure!”

I get out of the pool and walk back to the apartment with Marco angry.

“What was that?” he says sternly.

“None of your business! Also you were just so f*cking rude!”

“I don’t care! You were flirting with that guy!”

“Yeah so? We are going on a date tonight.”

“WHAT?!?”

“Yeah, and you interrupted it.”

“You’re going on a date with a guy in my body?!?”

“It’s my body now and yes I am!”

“But… but you just sucked me off and…”

“And what? You thought that was something special?”

“OF COURSE NOT! I’M NOT GAY!”

“Well what you did a few hours ago seemed pretty gay to me.”

“Yeah that’s because I’m in your gay body and plus that’s my body. It’s kinda like masterbation.”

“Whatever man, I really don’t care. If you want to pretend to be straight that’s fine. But I’ll be honest, I think you’ve always had feelings for guys. I know because I’m in your body and I’m still attracted to men.”

“SHUT UP!!!”

“So it’s true, you’ve been a dick to me my entire life about my sexuality, what I like, and it turns out you have some pinned up jealousy towards me right?”

Marcos looking down at the ground.

“We could have been friends, do you not get that?!? We could have—”

Marco grabs me and kisses me.

I was so shocked and I even felt butterflies in my stomach. We kiss for a few minutes before I pull back.

“WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!?”

“I’m sorry Drew! I was never going to do all of that stuff. I… I don’t know how to say this… I like you. I like you a lot. Hell, I thought about kissing you just about every time I went to kiss any girl. But I have so much anger and you’re right I am jealous! I’m jealous that you’re out and proud of yourself. You’re so confident! Fuck!!”

“So why put me through so much!?!! I mean look at us, we’re literally trapped as each other now! All of this could have been prevented if you just owned up.”

“I thought… I thought you would have hated me so much that you would tell everyone the truth about me. So… I just, I was a prick.”

“Damn right you were!”

“Sorry… again.”

“It’s fine, I guess I’m sorry for causing this body swap thing between us. I made some wish last night to get back at you. I didn’t think it would become anything but then woke up as you.”

His eyes get big, “so that’s how this happened?”

“Yeah, I guess something out in the universe was listening in and heard me.”

“That’s nuts.”

“Yeah it is.”

“Well if we are being honest about everything. I wasn’t just turned on by you dominating me upstairs. I was freaked out and yet turned on from being inside of you.”

“Really? My body?”

“Yeah Drew, you’re cute. You have an adorable face, cute slim figure, you’re charming yet kinky.”

“Wow.”

“And now I guess we are going to have to be each other forever?”

“Yeah I guess so.”

“Well if I had to be anyone else, I’m glad it’s you.”

“You mean that?”

“I do.��

I grinned at him and he smiles back at me. We both start to laugh.

“Are you still going on a date with this Lois guy?”

“Well not if an adorable guy who’s charming yet kinky stops me.”

“I guess that’s me now isn’t it?”

“Yep!”

“Well I can’t fully stop you but I can tell you this. If you don’t go—we can order take out, lay in bed together, and fool around all night.”

“Hmmmm… that sounds promising.”

“Plus, I know my body really well. And I can tell you no one knows how to make that body feel as good as I do.”

“Is that so?”

He walks closer to me seductively and Im starting to get hard again.

“I’ll nibble on those nipples, toy around with my balls…I bet you these hands are going to feel so good working that cock..”

He reaches into my bathing suit and I gasp.

“Fuckkk, I guess I’ll be staying tonight,” I say barely getting words out.

“Hell yeah!!!”

3 Months Later:

“Babe, are you packed? We got to be at your parents in a couple of hours… Babe?”

“Hi”

“Are you kidding?”

“We have time for a quick round, sides I’ll jerk you off using these sexy toes,” I say wiggling my feet at my boyfriend.

“Fuckkk… I guess we have time.”

Marco pulls off his shirt and I see the definition built into my former chest. He’s been hitting the gym a lot lately and everyday he’s looking sexier and sexier.

Marco pulls off his shorts and he’s already hard from these feet. It works like a charm every time.

I watch as my boyfriend grabs the foot that used to belong to him and he kisses every toe.

It’s crazy how quick the time had flown since we woke up as each other. I guess it helps that we are so in love with one another.

I start rubbing the cock that used to belong to me and now I’m hard.

“Babe, you are so talented with those toes… mhmmm that feels good.”

I use both feet and stroke back and forth.

He stops me for a second and plants my foot on his face.

“Did you work today without any socks on?”

“Hell yeah I did.”

He takes a big sniff of them.

“Fuckkk, I love you.”

“I love you too.”

#body swap #male body swap #male tf #permanent tf #body theft #straight to gay

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soleilapproves · 14 days ago

Text

Lucid Submission - chapter 3

Synopsis: Sukuna Ryomen is reborn as a human being as punishment for ruining the balance of good and evil in the divine realm. To lift his curse and return to his original form, the former demon king must complete the condition bestowed upon him by the deities. Except it can only be done by having a child with the street thief who stole his coin pouch.

fanfic masterlist

You couldn’t bring yourself to sleep that night. You could feel each tired vein in your eyelids latching on to every bit of rest they could get every time you blinked. You looked down and cursed yourself for being so fearfully compliant with your new husband. His heavy arms encased around you like he was sure you would run away.

He chuffed like a stallion every time he snored into your neck, terrifying you to your core as you tried to make as much space between yourselves as possible. Of course, your efforts were in vain as he made sure that you would not be able to move an inch while lying next to him. Much too paranoid about his ‘pearl disappearing.’

The rest of the day after the wedding was dull. Uraume had left with Sukuna for some urgent merchant business (apparently, he controlled many ports around the area), while Yuuji and Megumi went to train little children at a local school. Nobara wasn’t much of a conversationalist, only choosing to observe you–possibly to see how you could plan to escape.

Your life as a thief wasn’t as exciting as being a rich wife, but at least you had the repugnant thrill of constant aversion. All the riches that came with being Sukuna Ryomen’s wife made you cautious, like your new comfortable lifestyle would be snatched away as soon as you got used to it.

But it wasn’t like you planned to stay that long anyway. Any kind of freedom was going to be better than staying as an egotistical rich man’s wife–a life so suffocating and mundane that even the poor wouldn’t dare dream of living it.

The claustrophobia was now in its final course of setting into the core of your chest. You scratched and slapped the arms that held you, hoping for some kind of relief. Mental or physical. Sukuna grunted and simply turned, taking you with him. Your body now splayed on top of his, arms holding you still against his chest as your face mushed against his collarbone. His scent enveloped you even more, now becoming the air you breathed. If you didn’t crave worldly freedom so much, you would’ve held your breath and surrendered to a supposed afterlife.

“Lord Sukuna, I wish to ask you something,” you mumbled into his neck. The man didn’t even let out a grumble of acknowledgment. “I also cannot breathe.”

Your husband yawned loudly as he mumbled incoherent words. The deep rumble in his chest managed to jolt you like you were a feeble doe. Legs quivering and heart racing. He wasn’t much different from an animal, either. A monstrous bear, tiger, or any uncomfortably large and loud beast would suit him best.

He rolled you back down to the mat you two were sleeping on. However, before you could get up and finally breathe air that didn’t smell like herbs and possibly blood, the man rolled on top of you, pressing his heavy frame on your body. You were afraid that he would be able to feel your racing heart with the way his chest pressed flat against yours. At least his eyes were closed, so he couldn’t see your sheer terror.

“You must take me for a fool if you think that I am falling for your little thief tricks. Lying and scheming are your forte, are they not?”

“Lord Sukuna, please, let your wife at least live for a few days before killing her. It will give you more satisfaction,” you quipped, prideful even during your panicky state. His eyes squinted as he stared down at you.

“Tongue still sharp as ever, even in the dead of the night. Had I been in my former glory, you would not have been so quick to reply like that.”

“My sharp tongue comes with my body that you have forcefully married.” His tired red eyes rolled at your response. “What is it that you wished to ask me, wife?” You try not to shiver at his reference to you.

“I wish to… relief myself.”

He silently blinked at you before groaning and pulling out a small pebble from underneath his side of the tatami mattress. He threw it across the room, hitting the paper sheet of the sliding door. Curious, you frowned at the sound of slight rustling outside your room.

The door slid open to a grimacing Nobara. “At least warn me before I see something like this.” You could see her blench as she rubbed her eyes.

You gasped as you pushed your husband off, who was now more compliant with you. You yanked the covers off you and threw them at your husband, who was lying with his arms across his face. “You are lucky I am tired, wife.”

Your chest ached slightly when you saw the tatami mattress right outside your bedroom door. Your years of hardship may have turned you a little selfish, but you still had a heart. It felt like seeing a bleary-eyed little sister waiting for you after your long journey.

“Were you cold?” you asked as you followed her out to the water closet. “I have not felt even the chill of spring nights under the care of Master Sukuna,” she responds curtly.

You stop in your tracks, and so does she. The snow blankets everything—all your thoughts, worries, and concerns. “I do not actually want to go to the water closet. I just wished myself a moment. If it is possible, can we sit outside for a few minutes?”

It felt strange asking someone younger for permission, but you let it slide. It’s not like living as a thief made you a stickler for the rules. “Few minutes.” She walks you back to the estate’s courtyard, and you both sit side by side, covered in warm robes, watching the snowfall. The large cherry tree in the middle of the courtyard was now almost entirely white.

You didn’t expect any kind of camaraderie from Nobara. Your cases were wildly different–you were a ratty and uncivilized thief picked off the street to be Sukuna Ryomen’s wife, while Nobara was a uniformed…soldier. To be quite honest, you weren’t sure what to refer to her as. Her skills as a fighter were too sharp for her to be called a simple maid.

There was something more to her; you were sure of it. Her tone was too harsh to be a nobleman or aristocrat’s daughter–perhaps a merchant’s daughter. Her taste in clothes was great, and her sword’s sheath was of impeccable craftsmanship. Even an austere like you could tell.

You wondered if someone had taught her all these things. She sure looked like she was well-loved as a child. So were you, but there was always a chronic emptiness in your heart. No parents to dote on you after work, only a sick and tired grandmother who tried to give you everything she could before taking her last breath.

You even thought you could have a chance at having a family when you met your first love, but you soon gave up that hope after nearly being sold off as a wife to an old rich geezer. It had taken you ages to run away from him, to run away from a forceful marriage, only to land back in the same predicament but with a different person.

“I do not understand him,” you speak out in the silence, echoes of your voice getting swallowed up by the snow. Not even your murmurs could leave the estate. “Nobody does. That is just how he is.” Nobara doesn’t look at you as she replies. “No, he could just take the marble from me–if I even have it. Why does he need to marry me for it?”

“He believes you have it, but you are just unaware. He plans on coaxing it out of you sooner or later. And as long as the townsfolk know you are his wife, you cannot leave Seion.”

So you were trapped. If not under Sukuna Ryomen’s thumb, then under the people’s watchful eyes.

Unlike divine beings and spirits, human beings usually follow a daily routine. Sukuna Ryomen was surprised to learn that they meticulously followed everything–even down to how many bundles of firewood they would collect for the day. So, to make his life more comfortable, the former demon king also devised a routine.

His day usually starts with a quick exercise regime to keep himself strong. Should the day come that the Deities have finally returned to their senses and want him back, he can easily fight them in his human form. However, the four demon companions who followed him to the mortal realm out of their loyalty to him would beg to differ. Uraume, Nobara, Yuuji, and Megumi were well aware that even the most swole of humans would be like a small piece of twig for the weakest of deities. Sukuna Ryomen just enjoyed imagining the ones who punished him in pain, including that no-good Divine Judge, Higuruma Hiromi.

He would then eat a hearty meal and set off for business meetings. After his first hundred years on Earth, Sukuna learned that the only way to earn respect and power was to be rich. So he did exactly that: he spent decades earning money and bought out most of the shipment ports around his town. The fact that people forgot who he was every ten years immensely helped him. Divine punishment magic and all.

And at last, he’d end his day by meditating beside his old statue. Getting to the abandoned shrine was a bothersome journey, but the peace he felt there was unlike any other. It was the closest he felt to his former life.

His new wife, however, was ruining everything. He couldn’t exercise with his normal concentration because he needed to always have his eyes on her. He did trust Nobara, but he needed self-assurance. He could easily take her with him for errands for the day, but he didn’t want the old bastards he traded with to land their leery gazes at her. She was still very jumpy, and something about another man, even a few feet in her presence, made him want to burn his hair. Other than his trusted bodyguards and servant, of course.

“She just won’t sit still, and even refuses to eat. I’ve tried everything. You deal with her,” Nobara huffs as she smacks fresh new clothes on Sukuna’s unclothed chest, which was redundant because they had soaked in some of his sweat. He didn’t bother dressing up after his workout and charged to his quarters, noticing his wife had taken solace in the furthest corner from the door.

“I am not going to eat you,” Sukuna sighed as he walked over to her, making her only pull her legs closer to her chest as she scrambled to throw what was closest to her–a lacquer box pillow. Sukuna, of course, easily dodged her attempt to attack him. He veiled his amusement at her discontentment.

“Who’s to say you won’t? After all, you said you were a demon,” she tried her best to sound assertive, but her shivering body gave way to her veracity. Brave woman. She quickly dragged herself across the floor of the room, hoping to make it past Sukuna to get out, but he grabbed onto her ankles and pulled her to him. No grunt or sound of effort escaped his lips. She could only groan as he grabbed both her wrists and sat her up.

“I am here to give you clothes, woman. Calm down!” he reasoned as he sat on his haunches, giant hands still holding her wrists. His wife wriggled, trying to throw off his balance, but his exercise regime had made him sturdier than a raging bull. It wasn’t a shock to him that he was much bigger than her, but the sight of his arms being much larger and stronger than hers stirred something dire in him. Snow falling like dust before the avalanche.

“I don’t need clothes. I am already wearing them. I’ll change when these get dirty. You rich folk sure do love draining every single resource you have–warm water for baths–”

“Which you clearly enjoyed. I could hear you groaning and moaning like old wood yesterday.” Maybe it had been a while since he had a woman in close quarters, but he barely held himself together when he heard her across the estate.

“That was because your little servant scrubbed me so hard that I bruised everywhere!” she yelled as she tried to wriggle some more, but his grip was taut. He pushed her down on the ground, her back hitting the wood with a thump.

“Your stubbornness will simply not do. I always considered myself a patient man, but now I am unsure. I will put you to work and exhaust you so much that you won’t have the strength to even think about escaping.” And with that, he dropped her clothes on the ground and lightly shoved her to the side. Only to remind her of his strength.

And not because the sight of her being dragged around made him feel light-headed and lecherous.

After calling for Nobara to dress his wife up for the day, he called on Uraume to allot his new bride her wifely duties for the day. “She’s been on the street for most of her life so I doubt she knows how to cook. I also do not want her near fire, blades, arrows, or anything that can be a weapon. Have her organize my accounts by name. Nothing too extensive, but enough to make her want to lie down as soon as she’s done.” Uraume quickly nods before packing his things and handing them to him.

He never enjoyed working anyway. It was a good thing he had her to help out now.

“How long will you be meditating for, master?” Uraume asked as he walked Sukuna to the estate’s main entrance. Sukuna left with a swift response, “I expect to be back before sundown.”

The scenery around his statue was always beautiful. Stalky bamboo trees made everything look like a maze in this part of the valley. A stream nearby always had small foxes drinking from it, and the sun shone perfectly for their red fur to glitter.

Three hundred years ago, this place was bustling with people, buying talismans and offering fruits at the foot of the statue. Now, it is just a husk of what it used to be–weathering and moldy wood turning to dust as soon as one touches it. His statue had all smoothened out, his extra pair of eyes were invisible and his horrifyingly glorious mouth on his abdomen was gone too. There was not much difference between his human form and the statue.

Time stood still when Sukuna Ryomen was at his abandoned temple. He touched the smooth, worn gravel of his face and sighed. After a little more time, this statue would return to being taken care of. Offerings and people would return. So would his former glory. But where would his humanity go? Would he take it with him? Or would his sudden return to his former form make him forgo everything he had learned as a human being?

Most importantly, how would his return affect his wife?

“I see you finally found her,” A familiar voice echoes in the forest. Sukuna already knows who he is before turning around. The Tengu spirit was here.

“Why do you suddenly show yourself when I found my path of return, Geto Suguru?” Sukuna still didn’t turn. The spirit laughed, velvety rich voice raising hairs on the back of Sukuna Ryomen’s neck. He hated how humans were so expressive; it was no wonder they never had the upper hand with Deities and spirits.

Cool air blows all around Sukuna as the sound of wings flapping gets closer to him. If he turned around, he’d be face to face with someone he could’ve easily snapped in half if he were a demon again. “Because you haven’t.” Sukuna shivered as the tengu spirit whispered in his ear.

“What are you talking about? I saw her eyes; she has the marble!”

A dark claw digs into Sukuna's shoulder as he is ripped from his spot, and is turned around to face Suguru. He looked the same as he did hundreds of years ago–long black hair falling around his shoulders, dark pools of obsidian that never had a hint of good or evil behind them, and his signature smirk. Sukuna Ryomen hated tengus–they played around too much. Ambivalent creatures. They never lied, but they weren’t the friendliest company either. Only came around when they were bored.

“Are you still angry that I told you about the souls passing by your domain?”

“You said they were rejuvenating!” Sukuna exclaimed but caught himself when Suguru dug his nails into his shoulder. “Careful with your tone. Remember, you are a mere human now, and I could easily end your pathetic little life right this moment.”

“Do it. I’ll only come back to life within a few mere minutes. I am cursed, remember?”

“Oh, I know, which is why I’ll keep killing you, making each death more painful than the last. It’ll keep you stalled long enough for your little bride to run off or die with time. Human lives are just so frail, you see.” Suguru stretched a wide, ugly smile, baring his pointed teeth at Sukuna. A loud message.

Sukuna was sure the spirit could hear his pathetic human heart beating rapidly along with the sound of his blood rushing to his face. The veins in his neck bulged out as he tried to restrain his anger. The mere thought of someone taking his marble away from him angered him.

“Tell me what you are here for and leave me immediately.” The sooner Suguru left, the sooner Sukuna could go and protect his wife.

“You are a foolish demon.”

“If you’ve come all the way to the mortal realm to tell me that, then I believe you are the foolish one,” Sukuna’s attitude angered Suguru as he shoved him, his taloned foot slammed on Sukuna’s chest as he cemented him to the ground. Sukuna groaned as he tried to grasp onto the spirit’s foot, but his hands went through them like he was trying to catch onto the air.

Right, humans couldn’t touch spirits, but they could do whatever they wanted to them. No wonder folktales and legends were such a big part of human culture.

“You have become even more bold. I was only here to say that you asked the wrong question at the trial.”

“What are you waiting for then? Tell me,” Sukuna could barely wheeze out the words with the pressure on his chest. Taking pity at the pathetic man’s state, the tengu spirit lifts his leg off and clutches Sukuna’s collar, sitting him up against his will—a man at the mercy of myth.

“Your pearl–she doesn’t have it. Don’t bother torturing it out of her.” Sukuna wasn’t surprised that the Suguru assumed he would’ve done that. But something about his newfound humanity irked him enough not to perform needless acts of violence.

“What are you talking about?”

“The pearl is from the Divine Realm. A human cannot fathom its existence. It only exists as dust in her blood as in yours,”

The former demon’s pathetic human heart beat rapidly like thunder trapped in a cage. He let out an aching sigh as cold sweat dripped down the back of his neck. “You want me to kill her to get the pearl?”

“No, all you need to do is mix your blood with hers, and you will have the complete marble.”

“I cannot make her go through bloodletting–she’s too weak.”

Suguru laughs loudly and the ground beneath Sukuna’s body trembles. Fresh snow is shaken off the bamboos.

“There are less…practical ways of mixing blood. One of them will surely give you your complete marble.” Still confused, Sukuna could only squint at Suguru’s all-black eyes.

“A child, you daft demon. You must have a child with her to return to your original form.”

—

taglist: @sukubusss @lady-of-blossoms @gradmacoco @cheriiepies @brunnetteiwik @poopooindamouf @miakxn @emochosoluvr @sunasgf1

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mcu-coworkers · 8 months ago

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A Weeks Time

Summary: The king brings you and Aegon together in hopes to mend his broken family.

Pairings: Aegon Targaryen X Targ. Reader

Notes: Hello everyone! In honor of the House of dragon season 2 I became inspired to write this little series. I hope you all enjoy the journey my mind takes me on.:)

Pt.2 Exploring The Prince

(I do not own this gif all characters are from the series)

As a child my mother spoke to me of all the things she did in order to proceed as heiress to the crown. Her duty to perform did not come to her so easily but she became used to the attention, the obligations that came with attachment to the crown.

She told me the story of her first marriage to my father and the night of their wedding. In some ways I felt as if she was preparing me for something.

And in this thought I was right.

”When a girl comes of age, she is to be wed to a suitor my darling.” She said, smiling softly, “you have come of age.” She finished barely above a whisper.

With a confused smile I answered, “Yes I believe so mother but, with no suitor in sight.”

Briefly looking at me I notice her smile fade.

”Mother?” I push.

”The King has betrothed you already, you shall marry him at once.” She said rather quickly.

But not quick enough to save your ears.

Your breath hitched in your throat, who could he have chosen for me so quickly?

”At once? To whom?” I was finally able to form words again.

I ’d have felt more at ease if my mother hadn’t struggled so much to come out with the name.

Could he really be that bad? Surely my grandfather wouldn’t marry me off to just anyone.

”Aegon, y/n, You will marry Aegon.” she said, waiting for your reaction.

You thought hearing the news of a betrothed left you speechless but hearing who it’d be left you with your mind running wild yet thoughtless at the same time.

”Aegon? But mother we left for Dragonstone because he and his brother were trying to kill my brothers, now I am expected to marry him?” You all but yelled.

”We must put that past us Y/n” she sighed.

Aegon would not have been her first choice for you, but he was the Kings.

”Past us? Is it past them? Past Aemond?” You already know the answer. They hadn’t. And they never would.

Especially Aemond. He had it out for all of us.

”That I cannot be certain of but this can be a chance to mend that wound, we can be close once again, a family.” My mother said hopeful.

I couldn’t tell if she was trying to convince me or her.

”But why me?” I asked. Helaena was there, her and so many other suitors.

” You are my oldest, your grandfather sees you for your beauty, and it will do Aegon good to have a woman like you by his side, to help him mature.” She said as she took your hand in hers.

Aegon and his brother made countless rumors about your brothers because they did not display the traditional Targaryen look you all did.

Your silver hair is a contrast to the rich chocolate color of theirs.

You had heard things about Aegon, most you overheard and chose not to believe for the sake of your own peace.

The things people described are things you’d never seen personally.

To you Aegon was kind, gentle, and humorous. You’d never seen the man that gets credited for all of the crazy things you hear.

And you’ve heard them all.

”Alright, when shall I be wed?” You asked, ‘at once’ didn’t exactly specify.

”We leave for Kings landing tomorrow, you will wed him in a week's time by the end of the traditions.” She said standing from my bed and leaving the room.

I laid there taking in the news, I was betrothed to Aegon Targaryen.

Closing your eyes nervously for what’s to come, you wondered how he’d reacted to the news.

———

“Wed? Me? And to what whore did you happen to choose for me?” Aegon screamed in disbelief.

”Watch your tongue boy.” Viserys warned. “You are to be wed to Y/n, she will make a good wife.” He said catching breathe.

Aegon froze in place catching Aemonds eye.

”Father be rational we cannot mix our blood with theirs.” Aemond said, smirking.

”And why not? She is of pure Targaryen blood.” Viserys insisted.

”Is she?” Aemond asked. Pushing his father.

”Watch how you speak of my betrothed brother, she is to be my wife and you will respect her title.” Aegon said not once breaking eye contact.

Viserys smiled, satisfied with his son.

”She will be good for you, Aegon, be good to her, and put an end to this silly quarrel with her brothers.” He said as he began to walk away from his sons.

Once the king was out of sight Aemond was the first to break the silence.

”You can’t seriously be on board with marrying that bastard child?” He asked Aegon once again, this time hoping to get an answer he’d like.

” I warned you once brother, do not make me do it again, she is to be my wife I will not allow you to speak of her this way again.” He said as he walked out of the room and to his own chambers.

Truth be told the time you two spent together was his favorite, he saw your beauty from miles away, but your brothers kept him from ever pursuing you.

But now, nothing stood in his path.

Your brothers wouldn’t dare to challenge the king's decision nor would they want to upset you.

You were to be his and he to be yours.

And with that news Aegon found sleep peacefully eager for the next day to come.

#aegon ii targaryen #house of the dragon #house targaryen #hotd aegon #king aegon #aegon targaryen x reader

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weirdmarioenemies · 11 months ago

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Name: Spamley

Debut: Ralph Breaks the Internet

Hey, remember the Ralph Breaks the Internet craze of 2018? What a time to be alive! Disney's film about What If The eBay Was A Place was an instant hit, due to the fact that everyone knows the Internet, and everyone wants to see a movie about it! You couldn't stop hearing about it! No wonder it won the Academy Award for best animated film! I think it beat out some movie about spiders, or something...?

Kids today might not remember, because 2018 was so long ago. They're too obsessed with their new age sexymen, like Raymond and the big balls Dwarf. But this movie wouldnt've been the cultural phenomenon it was without one character taking the world by storm: a certain J.P. Spamley!

The Internet fell in love with Spamley at first sight, flooding social media with memes and fan art about the loveable green prick. He rose to the highest ranks of the Tumblr Sex Man for a good while! You couldn't scroll for a few minutes without seeing his catchphrase, "Now's your chance to get rich playing video games!"

What kind of a megacorporation would Gisnep be if it didn't capitalize on Spamley's popularity? So they held a special Spamley Sweepstakes event on November 2019, allowing fans to donate money in honor of Spankley himself! All proceeds would go to Bob Iger and Baby Yoda, and if that's not wholesome, I don't know what is. Those who entered even had a chance of winning WILD prizes, like:

That's it that was the only prize

See him in theatres! This is what Disney told us all to do, and we listened! Little did we know they were doing this to hide a dark secret! If you buy the Blu-ray version of the movie, you can actually manipulate the Scene Select to watch the movie out of order and make some... strange things happen. You can look up a walkthrough online, but the gist of it is making Vanelope kill all the Disney Princesses. Especially Merida. And when you do, you unlock a weird alternate ending...

Spamley NEO is the secret true main antagonist of the film, and he wants to take over Oh My Disney to spread spam and advertisements! No! Not Oh My Disney! Please, for the love of God, NOT OH MY DISNEY!! You have to kill him. You have to destroy your Blu-ray copy of Ralph Breaks the Internet now. I hope you're proud of yourself.

#spamley #ralph breaks the internet #wreck it ralph #oh my disney #mod f boy #unreality #april fools

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lurochar · 9 months ago

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Little Abomination

That... thing was separate yet still a part of him. It was how Alastor even became aware of your existence to begin with. You were his. You just didn't know it yet. Alastor x Reader (sorta) + Catlastor

Warnings? - You call Catlastor ‘Little Red’. Reader sorta has a backstory.

–-------

“Settle down now.”

His shadow chittered with excitement and restlessness as it fluttered from building to building, moving along ahead of him like an enthusiastic child who possessed no manners whatsoever.

Well, he supposed his shadow was just mirroring what he truly felt deep down that he certainly could not display publicly, so he could let it slide for now.

After all, he had been watching for seven years and now that he was back, he could finally come and claim what was rightfully his.

You, that is.

Not that you even knew it yet.

Well, how could you? You had only just recently woken up in Hell shortly after he disappeared, probably only hearing of the ‘Radio Demon’ through rumours and gossip, if you even bothered to pay attention at all.

You had more important things to worry about than missing Overlords, such as surviving the brutal environment of Hell with your small and frankly pathetic build.

Yet survive you did.

Sure, you didn't have the rich and opulent lifestyles that Overlords such as himself could easily obtain through power or wealth.

In fact, you had absolutely nothing but the clothes on your back and even those were stolen with a skill that was practiced far too much.

He did believe you probably had done so often enough in your mortal life that you had no choice but to do so.

And in the seven years he had been watching you, stealing was the only crime you committed.

If that was the reason you were sent down to the burning pits of fiery Hell to suffer for your ‘sins’, well, clearly Heaven was nothing but a fucking joke.

No matter, he would get what he wanted and if Heaven made a blunder, it was his gain.

Of course, there was the pesky obstacle standing in his way, the reason he even knew of your existence to begin with.

Your little bodyguard.

That cat(?) creature-like thing that had become your companion and grew an affection for you simply because you showed the little abomination kindness again and again, over the wellbeing of your own health as you fed it the last scraps of your stolen food.

You foolish girl.

Did you really think that creature could not fend for itself? That it could not rip the limbs off whichever Sinner that it designated for dinner?

Who knows how many the little beast had already devoured for your protection? How many times you may have been killed if not for that cat stalking after you and pouncing on your would-be attackers before they could even hope to reach you?

How your protector dragged those fools away out of your sight into the shadows, never allowing you to see just how gruesome Hell truly was?

You were a pretty little thing and many would be eager to snatch you up and ground your soul down until your light was snuffed out.

No, but him – he saw you for the pretty little gem you were, a pure indulgence that should not have been sent to the depths of Hell for such lowly crimes.

As for your little beastly companion, Alastor was not too sure what it was, but if he had to theorize, he would guess it was simply the remnants of flesh, fur, bone, and even bits of his antlers that he lost during his uprising and toppling of the previous Overlords during his first few years in Hell.

He supposed it just took years and years for the pieces of himself to slowly form into something (he would not say that creature resembled himself in any shape or form, it was a hideous little thing).

Despite it somehow growing its own consciousness, Alastor could still look through its eyes and it was then your fate was locked and sealed.

You were his.

Even that beast, separate yet still a part of him, already knew that and he did expect that you would come willingly now.

Wouldn't you?

–

You sighed.

“It's not much, I know.” You leaned back against the wall of the warehouse that served as your current ‘home’, “But it's better than yesterday! That bakery is on to me, I think. I'll have to move on to something else.”

The cat stared at you, its chilling grin not creeping you out in the least (not anymore anyway). Its unblinking eyes didn't move away from you even as you placed two pieces of bread in front of it.

“C'mon, Little Red, don't let it go to waste!” You begged. You knew it wasn't exactly fond of food like baked goods and it usually took a good while for your companion to relent to your pleas, but it eventually would gobble down whatever you managed to scrounge for that day.

Something like meat was a luxury you definitely couldn't afford.

“See, it's not so bad?” You let out a forced laugh when your furry friend swallowed the two pieces of bread after unhinging its jaw in a manner that used to disturb you, “Yeah, I know it’s plain. I woulda went for the doughnuts, but that baker was eyeing me pretty hard.”

The cat’s tail wagged and it let out that strange staticky purr as it bumped its head against your leg and you let out a huff of amusement, feeling its odd protrusions poking you. You scratched behind its ear and you felt the critter literally vibrate under your hand.

It was a bizarre creature, but it proved it was the only one you could trust during your time in Hell thus far.

You had come across the little fellow only a month after you woke up in Hell and despite your shock and despair at your fate and the cat’s initial indifference to your presence, your stubborn insistence in giving it the meagre amount of food you stole, and were sometimes beat bloody for, had won it over in the end.

(If you only knew it had stalked you the entire time, intrigued by your absurd reasoning. It had thoroughly enjoyed consuming those who did lay their hands on you).

Its grin widened at the memory.

“Maybe I should try getting a job again?” You muttered out loud, sighing as you let out a breath, “Try to save up money, get an apartment.” It was a pleasant thought, but that required you to actually retain said job.

Your mortal life hadn’t been so great, with a drug-addicted mother and an absent father, it didn’t take much for both of you to end up on the streets and your mother dying of an overdose not long after.

It had been under the directive of your mother at first, stealing had become a second nature to you. Anything for her drugs when she was alive, but after she died, it had turned to necessities only.

Food, clothes, money.

It was never a good idea to steal money though.

You had chosen the wrong person to steal a bit of cash from and got a bullet in the head for it, only to wake up in Hell for simply being born in shitty circumstances and having to do what you did to survive.

It sucked.

You had sorta lucked out where you spawned in Hell however, in a territory owned by an Overlord known as the ‘Radio Demon’.

He had apparently cleaned up the area, turned it into a civil area compared to other territories owned by other Overlords, and the denizens of his territory behaved (whether out of fear or respect, probably both) like a polite society.

Even though the Radio Demon had not been seen or heard from for years now, the citizens of his territory still acted cordially (again, out of fear and respect) since no one wanted their soul to be ripped apart over a live broadcast whenever he decided to return.

Or angering Rosie, the Overlord who was supposedly looking after the Radio Demon’s territory in his absence.

Due to your past life, you retained bad habits and the few jobs you tried to uphold, your sticky fingers had gotten the better of you and you were fired for stealing, even though it was mostly just food.

You really didn’t want to find out if you could starve to death in Hell.

A paw lightly smacked your face and you jumped, startled out of your thoughts and you looked down to find your cat friend sitting in your lap, its grin as wide as usual, “Heh, just lost in my head, Little Red,” you patted its head, “wondering what kind of job I could even do?”

The cat’s ears twitched.

Your body stiffened unwittingly.

Static hummed in the air, growing louder by the second and you began to shake uncontrollably, feeling your heart pound against your chest as you struggled to your feet. “W-what’s that noise?” You barely noticed as the cat tumbled off your lap while you looked wildly around the warehouse.

A shadow streaking across the ground caught your eye.

“Fuck, what is that?” You tried to keep your eyes on the quick moving shadow, but it was just so fast and your panic was not helping nor was the dim light, “W-where did it go?”

You almost screamed when you felt cold hands grab your shoulders and a strange chittering sound and you blindly threw your arm out, hoping to at least hit whatever grabbed you.

Yeah, you were pathetically weak, but you still had claws and fangs like the majority of Sinners, so you would put up something of a fight.

You hit nothing as you stumbled, looking behind you to see nothing either before those same cold hands skimmed up your sides. You shrieked when you were literally lifted off the ground from under your arms and you found yourself looking at a shadowy figure with glowing eyes and a grin that eerily reminded you of your little cat companion.

You were speechless as the shadow seemed to chirp at you, shaking you with what seemed to be excitement(?), but before you could react to this alarming situation, you felt something wrap around your midsection and the shadow was literally ripped away from you and thrown across the warehouse.

Shadows had mass?

You were placed on your feet and you looked down to see what was wrapped around you–was that a fucking tentacle?!– before you shakily glanced back up when the appendage released you.

What in Satan’s name?!

“Little Red?” You weakly asked, staring at your little cat friend, which now looked like an Eldritch Horror monster, complete with a drooling jaw at least half the size of its body and whipping tentacles sprouting from its back.

The shadow recovered with no damage and growled back, but stayed the distance as the two beings glared each other down.

What the fuck was going on!?

“Now now, didn’t I already tell you to settle down?”

You were trembling again at the sound of a voice – one that sounded like an old-timey radio host – “No.” Your eyes widened as you took a step back, “No.”

“Oh, but I’m afraid it is, my dear,” the tall figure arose from a void of black through the ground, “I’m quite honoured you know of me despite my disappearance for seven years.”

“I-I mean, who doesn’t?” You swallowed thickly, “a-are you here to kill me?” Would there even be a point putting up a fight against the Radio Demon? It might just piss him off more, “I’m sorry for stealing! I’ll… I’ll find a way to pay you back somehow!”

“Oh, dear me! You believe I care about a misdeed as petty as theft? Especially when it’s concerning your very survival? No no, Darling – I’m here for something far more important.” Alastor’s chilling smile widened when you looked at him with uncertain surprise.

“W-what does that mean?” You asked, flinching under his unwavering red gaze, “You have much more important things you could be doing, r-right?”

Alastor took a step forward, stopping when a tentacle slammed down in front of him only inches away. “I couldn’t expect any less,” he eyed the drooling cat, amused with its warning to stay back, “You are a part of me, after all.”

“I’m sorry, what!?”

“In a sense, I suppose you could call this… thing a familiar that split off from me. And it chose you, my dear, because it was drawn to your soul,” Alastor’s proceeding smile almost split his face, “Now tell me, why do you think I am here?”

“No, no. Nope, nope!” You shook your head, clutching your chest protectively, “I’m not giving you my soul. Y-you’re just going to have to kill me!”

There was a yowl and snarl and the Eldritch cat and Alastor’s shadow were suddenly encased in some sort of black barrier glowing with green symbols with a slam of his cane and you would have fallen to the ground in surprise when Alastor appeared abruptly in front of you, only avoiding it when he gripped one side of your face and forced you to look at him.

“It would be a waste to take your soul. No, I want you complete and whole, my dear girl. In either case, the result would be the same. One is simply instant gratification. I am a patient man, I have no need to use force for my desired outcome.” He released you and you took several steps back, certainly glad to see the manic glee in his red eyes fade ever so slightly, “I have come here with an offer. No deals.”

“What’s… that?” You asked hesitantly, unsure if he was trying to trick you.

“Princess Morningstar has just announced a ridiculous plan, a hotel to redeem Sinners, in hopes they will be allowed into Heaven.” Alastor chuckled darkly at the utterly laughable idea, but he had plans and he needed the princess for them to come to fruition. “Even if it is a foolish endeavor that is bound for failure, surely staying at a hotel is better than this?”

You eyed him warily.

“My offer is that you simply come with me to this hotel. Why, I even heard what you said earlier, that you wanted a job?” Alastor’s grin was sleek when you looked at him sharply, “I’m sure the staff there will be quite lacking. Perhaps you can pay back what you stole?” It was a simple jest, but it seemed you took it seriously.

“Y-yes, maybe I can do it this time! Especially if this hotel wants to redeem us!” You said excitedly to yourself, not noticing the dark look in Alastor’s eyes at the idea of you ever being ‘redeemed’, “I’ll go as long as Little Red can too.”

“‘Little Red’?” Alastor repeated as his brow rose, glancing over to the barrier he had conjured to contain the two while he simply talked to you. There had been no need for a fight after all, “Ah, that… thing.” He slammed his cane against the ground and the barrier dissolved at once. “I am sure Princess Morningstar will allow it.”

He didn’t care for the creature himself, but it was your companion and he knew you would never leave it behind. Besides, the little abomination could act as your bodyguard when Alastor himself was out and about as he couldn’t stay near you 24/7.

“You okay, Little Red?” You approached the cat, noticing that it was back to its more normal form and its tail wagged when you picked it up gingerly, “I didn’t know you could do something like that! Tell a girl next time!” You giggled when it gave that staticky purr.

You heard the sound of a chitter and looked up to see the shadow practically leaping towards you and you flinched, closing your eyes and waited to be toppled to the ground. The cat vibrated in your arms in anger, hissing as its pupils turned into radio dials.

“Enough.”

The shadow immediately stopped, letting out a whimper as its ears dropped, giving you one last look before it disappeared behind Alastor.

“Well then, are you ready?” Alastor smirked, watching as you simply grabbed the cat, your only ‘possession’, and nodded, “Let us hope this was the break you were looking for, my dear.”

You were his.

And you seemed partially aware of it now.

#alastor x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #cursed cat alastor #x reader

846 notes · View notes

itaehynz · 6 months ago

Note

HII BABY! ahem SOOO for the event i’d like to request for “welcome to the movies”, the movie batman BUTTTTT villain catwoman!reader x CHOI YEONJUN . HEAR ME OUTTTTUH (a little plot but mostly smut ykyk 😇)

ONE NIGHT ONLY.

pairing: batman!yeonjun x catwoman!reader.

genre: forbidden love, superhero x villain au, smut, a little angst & fluff.

word count: 4.4k

warnings: profanity, argument before intercourse, yeonjun and reader are both dicks in the beginning, mention of killing, includes an explicit sex scene; harddom!yeonjun at first, sub!reader, big dick jun implied (it’s real), public sex, oral (both receiving), cunnilingus, fingering, dacryphilia, marking, hair pulling, throatfucking, choking, overstimulation, spanking, unprotected sex, squirting, nipple play, breeding, degrading + praising, soft sex toward the end (but not for long), kissing, spitting, breeding kink, name-calling; pretty/pretty girl, good girl, gorgeous, slut, whore, baby.

“Pretty girls like you like to get fucked in alleys? That's new.”

ni’s notes; the event masterlist is coming soon but here it is!! i hope you enjoy this fic, my love. also thank you to my proofreading friend, if you see this, ily babe. happy reading my lovelies! 💕

SPECIAL MASTERLIST!

With the arrival of night comes danger—dangers this city has been dealing with for years on end, dangers caused by you. And, of course, Batman is always the one to the rescue. He has always been their superhero, the person they can always count on. But not anymore. A rumor has begun. A rumor you started. A rumor to ruin his reputation.

You two have been secretly meeting at night to avoid being seen by others. This is all because of him - he's the one who made this rule. He's the kind of man who always gets what he wants and never takes no for an answer. However, the rumor that the two of you are in a committed relationship, which isn’t true, has officially ruined his reputation. But where's the fun in telling the truth?

It doesn't matter how much you love him; you love to toy with him even more. Getting under his skin, and ridiculing him, makes you feel giddy. The knowledge of how angry you could make him with a simple action. The adrenaline hurries through your veins at the thought.

But that's before you hear something rustle behind you. You think it could be a random citizen, so you simply ignore it, until your mouth is covered by a black leather glove.

“Stay quiet,” the voice says. It’s deep and rich. You recognize the voice—actually, you know it. It’s him.

The man who never denies himself pleasure, the man who always knows what he wants. The man goes by two names, Batman or as you’d like to call him, Choi Yeonjun.

When he appears behind you, you don't gasp or panic. You knew he was coming sooner or later. Once the news spread, you knew he'd have no choice but to come to you. Eventually, he'd try to figure out who spread the word, only to be led back to you. Besides his assistant, nobody knows about the two of you, except you and him.

Soon, he uncovers your mouth and begins leading you to god knows where; however, you're not complaining. This is exactly what you wanted. You wanted him to seethe with anger. You truly looked forward to hearing from him, whatever he had to say. Every time you two have a conversation, it almost always ends with sex. This time should be no different.

He pulls you into a dark alleyway, a blind spot away from the citizens of Gotham. "Tell me," he says, bringing a finger to his temple and inhaling deeply. "Tell me what led you to this point, Y/n."

To your dismay, it's as if every reason you had has been wiped from your memory entirely. Under his mask, you see his eyes piercing into yours. You find yourself feeling more intimidated as you look away, making an effort to avoid his intense gaze.

He grasps your face firmly, bringing your eyes back to his. After doing so, he takes his mask off, throwing it somewhere. What you're now faced with is an expression you’ve never seen before. He’s furious. His eyebrows furrowed and a firm wrinkle was prominent in the center of his forehead.

He looks at you with raised brows, expectant. Expecting a reasonable answer from you, not whatever random bullshit you can think of.

“I wanted to see if I mattered to you,” you draw in a large breath, “If we mattered to you.” He looks at you dumbfounded, has he not been the best he could be to you? What more could you want from him? He scoffs, “You’re joking, right?” he questions while looking at you, once again, expecting an answer.

You laugh, “Of course I am! Why would I care about how much I mean to you? You're Batman, you don't care about how others feel about you,” you add, rolling your eyes in a joking manner. He scoffs at your ability to joke in situations like this, soon falling into a small laughter. Withdrawing his hand slowly, slapping your cheek twice in a ridiculing manner.

He seems completely disinterested in continuing the conversation, as your responses didn't give him anything to engage in. He's convinced that you started the rumor because if not you, then who else?

Deciding not to think about it any further, he runs a hand through his hair before walking away from you. You grab for your mask, taking it off before calling out to him. As you call out to him, he pauses in his tracks before turning his head in your direction with a raised eyebrow.

“I just,” you murmur, rolling your eyes once again. “I just wanted to get a rise out of you. I admit, it was a stupid way to do it but I just wanted to have a little fun, that’s all.” He looks at you once again, amazed by your reasoning. He’s never found anything more stupid than that.

"Are you serious?" is all he says. The more you think about it, your reasoning for doing this is pretty dumb. Not only does it ruin his reputation because it's said that he's dating the city's worst villain, but it also ruins yours. Obviously, your reputation was trashed the moment you started this job, but now it's worse than it was before.

You simply nod at his words as he scoffs for the nth time, shocked by how far you've gone. You know how hard he's worked to get into his position, and the fact that you were able to break all that down with a simple news article baffles him, to say the least.

“I should fucking kill you.” He threatens, scowling at you. You’re taken aback by the sudden change in his demeanor as the distance between the two of you gets smaller and smaller. “What?” you question, already knowing that he’s fuming. This is your way of trying to get more of a rise out of him. You trust yourself and know what you're doing, he wouldn't dare to kill you… right?

“First, you ruin my reputation and now you're standing here acting like you’re an innocent ass fucking fool, acting as if you don't know why I’m here,” he pauses, seeming as if he wants to hear your side. “Yeonjun, I’m the fool? If anything-” “Yes! You are! So, don't even try to go there with me, Y/n. You need to fucking learn your place and keep our business in between us. Stop doing stupid shit to get a rise out of me because I already knew what you were doing once that dumb excuse came out of your mouth.”

“I need to learn my place?” you scoff lightly, beginning to walk closer to him. “You should be the last person talking about learning their place. You’ve never known yours! You're always intruding into someone’s life and trying to fuck things up for everyone. You’ve never known your place, and now you're shocked when someone else doesn't know theirs? Well lucky for you, I’ve had a great fucking teacher! So since you wanna talk big, why don't you show me what my place is, huh? Show me exactly what my fucking place in this world is, Choi Yeonjun.”

Those words were all he needed. Just like you needed to provoke a reaction from him, he needed you to say those few words. The moments it took for your heart to beat were the few seconds he needed to get you right where he wanted you.

He is aware that you can be a brat sometimes; that's for sure. However, this time was extreme. Not only did you argue with him, but you also kept giving him illogical reasons, even after he explicitly told you not to.

If you wanted him to fuck you, why not just say so? You went as far as revealing the relationship between the two of you, and just for some dick? Hysterical. Absolutely fucking ridiculous, is what he thinks.

“You’re just a fucking whore, aren't you?” He says, venom creeping its way into his voice. His cape drops as he makes his way to you, eyes blown out with lust and a tinge of fury. He almost laughs at the way your face shows pure worry, but your eyes say otherwise.

You're almost caught off guard by his sudden switch-up, but what can you say? You like how he’s acting. You like the way his calloused hands feel against your skin, the way his unoccupied hand feels against the flesh of your ass. Grabbing weighty amounts of your flesh and groping it roughly, he has no intention of being soft with you but maybe, just maybe you can change his way of thinking.

“You like it when I’m rough with you, huh? You like it when I treat you like shit—don’t you?” he growls softly in your ear, you can’t deny that. The pleasure you gain from arguing with him for no logical reason is immense. You know you should feel guilty, but the feeling of his hands on your body takes away all the guilt you’ve ever had.

He removes his hand from your face, both hands now resting on the apple of your ass. He rubs around it softly, reminding himself what belongs to him. “Hm. This is a pretty suit, are you sure this is the same as the others?” He whispers, kissing from your lips to the sweet spot of your neck. You hum in affirmation, causing him to put a stop to his ministrations. “Words, Y/n,” he taps your cheek with two fingers softly. “Yes, it is.” He hums, continuing to kiss in the same spot he was before.

You feel his hands gripping roughly at your flesh once more, soon hearing a tear. You jump in shock, grabbing at his arms for some sort of balance. He coos in your ear, telling you to stay quiet once again. You feel his hands spread your legs further, right before he presses a firm thigh between them.

“Pretty girls like you like to get fucked in alleys? That's new.” He brushes his knee past your tender clit, emitting a soft moan from you. His soft kisses soon turn to bites, his finger now rubbing back and forth past your slit. He brings his other hand back around to stretch the tear of your suit, slapping your clit lightly. You gasp in satisfaction, causing him to wrap a hand around your mouth.

“I told you to be quiet, didn't I?” He questions, not expecting an answer. He runs a finger past your clit, rubbing small but rough circles into it with his thumb. His finger slightly teases your slit, going in and out to build the stimulation within you. His finger enters you in a swift motion, eliciting a whiny moan from you and into his palm.

He kisses your forehead softly, beginning to pump his finger faster before adding one more. You cringe at the stretch but soon adjust to it, squirming in pleasure. He tightens his hold on you, pushing your stomach down which does nothing but increase your volume.

“You hear those sounds, baby? Those beautiful, dirty sounds coming from you? Those are the sounds of a whore.” he says, slapping a hand on your clit once more. You whimper into his palm, watching as he smirks at the sounds coming from your cunt. He bites back a chuckle, seeing how easily he can have you writhing in the palm of his hand.

He draws his fingers from your soaking cunt and brings them to his mouth. He looks at you as he does so, wrapping his tongue around the digits as he flutters his eyes shut in delight. “Such a dirty mouth, yet you're so sweet.” He pulls his fingers from his mouth before lowering himself down to your cunt, humming in adoration once he’s faced with your wetness. “Look how pretty she is, so wet—so perfect. You have such a pretty pussy, baby,” he says, bringing an agonizingly slow stripe of saliva to your cunt.

“You still wanna do this here? Or would you prefer to go back home?” he asks, pausing his actions. “N-no, please, this is fine, Jun.” He smiles at your desperation, chuckling softly to himself before licking another long stripe up your cunt. His hands grip your thighs roughly, spreading your legs more than before for better access. Before doing anything else, you feel his hands reach up your chest to tear another hole in your suit. He moves the fabric aside to release your perky tits from their enclosure, rolling one between his fingers.

You moan quietly, to abide by his rules. He flicks your clit with his tongue, keeping your thighs apart with his free hand. He laps at your clit, wrapping his pretty lips around your sensitive bud. He relishes in the taste of your juices, sucking at your cunt as if his life depends on it. Your moan increases in volume, causing him to hum into you. He watches you writhe in pleasure as he inserts two fingers, watching every pleasure-felt expression that appears on your face.

You begin gripping his hair, pulling at the brown locks as you roughly ride his nose. He groans at the feeling, fluttering his eyes closed in pleasure. He feels his pants getting tighter as your pretty moans fill his ears and shoot straight to his cock.

You feel your orgasm creeping up on you as he continuously moans into your squelching cunt. With a plan in mind, you tug his head away from your clit. He looks up at you, dumbfounded. He's confused as to why you did that before seeing you drop to your knees. He watches you pull down his pants, releasing his cock from his slacks. He groans in pleasure, bucking his hips toward your face frantically.

You lick at the tip of his cock, jerking the rest of him off. He watches you with lust-filled eyes, bringing his hand to your face. You melt into his palm, looking back up at him with doe eyes. His breath quivers as you wrap your lips around his tip, licking at his leaking tip. You swallow the drops of precum before licking at his slit once more, watching as he bites his lip in attempt to contain his moans.

You chuckle, “It’s so pretty, Yeonjunie,” you mutter, loud enough for him to hear. You watch his hips buck upward in pleasure as you begin to hold his waist, preventing him from doing it again. He moans at the restriction, watching as you finally take all of him in your mouth. For some sort of stability, he grips your hair in his fist. He gains control over your throat as he bobs your head back and forth on his cock, seeing how you easily give in to him. He closes his eyes, stalling your head and fucking himself down your throat.

You grip his hips tighter, allowing him all the relief he needs as he fucks your throat. “F-fuck, baby… yeah, j-just like that, fuck, yes,” he moans, bucking his hips into your mouth. The noises coming from the alley would induce any type of curiosity in a person who just so happens to be passing by—the lewd sounds coming from your throat as he moans above you. The pretty noises coming from him as he shoves all of his length down your throat makes wetness form between your thighs, pooling at your entrance.

As you continue to let him fuck your throat, you reach down and rub rough circles into your clit. He opens his eyes for a split second to see how you’re occupying yourself and sees one of your hands away from his hip. Even though he feels himself nearing his orgasm, he yanks your hair to pull you away from his cock. He watches drool leave your lips as you stare up at him, breathing heavily and jaw nearly slacking.

He pulls you up by your hair, forcing you around to press you against the concrete wall. “You thought you were gonna get away with touching yourself? You thought I wouldn't catch you?” He rubs the soft flesh of your ass, tearing the rest of the bottom half of your suit off. “Look at you, baby. So pretty and wet, just for me.” He whispers in your ear, landing a firm slap on one of your asscheeks.

Watching as you wince, he soothes the pain with a soft knead into your flesh. It doesn't last long as he lands another one, telling you; “This is for lying in my face,” Another one. “This is for telling the press our business,” Another slap. “And, this? This is trying to make me look like a fucking fool,” Another one. “This one is for touching yourself without my permission, acting out, and all those times you treated me like I was a fucking joke; laughing in my face, lying to me, creating bullshit excuses for your actions, and thinking everything is a fucking game.” He raises his hand higher, before landing a harsh and rough slap on your ass once more.

You feel tears rolling down your face as he coos into your ear, kissing your neck and rubbing the bruising flesh. “Aw, my poor baby. You’ll be okay, just don't act like this again, okay?” He says, wiping your tears with his free hand. He kisses you one last time before pulling away to line himself up with your cunt. “Look at this,” he smiles to himself. “Doing all this crying, just to find out—you’re getting off on this shit, what a fucking slut.” He chuckles once more, inserting himself carefully.

You moan at the way he hits your sweet spot almost immediately, feeling his hand creep up to your breast. He pulls you against his chest by your throat, wrapping a firm hand around it. You watch him gather his spit in his mouth before telling you, “Open.” With quickness, you open your mouth as the spit drops from his to yours. “Swallow it,” he whispers, watching you carefully. You stare up at him, swallowing the spit just as he told you to. He smirks, kissing down your neck. He slowly starts fucking into you, pulling at your nipple between his fingers.

A moan erupts from your throat, slowly feeling a bit of overstimulation overtake you. You feel his pace slowly but surely pick up in speed, his pace becoming unrelenting. You feel his arm wrap around your torso to stop your squirming, his grasp tightening the more you move. You hear him groan in your ear along with the soft slapping emitting from your ass. His arm that was once wrapped around you is now creeping down to play with your clit, rubbing your bud in a circular motion.

“H-hah— fuck, keep—keep going, shit,” you moan, putting a hand over his. He kisses your neck once more, tilting your head back to rest on his shoulder. “You're so, fuck, so fucking gorgeous.”

He goes from kissing to sucking purple and blue splotches on your neck, making you moan directly into his ear. The moan seems to spur him on as his pace somehow picks up. You feel yourself teetering over the edge as you claw your nails into his arm, causing him to bite down on the sweet spot of your neck.

The bite itself emits a loud moan from you, his freakish pace adding to it. He feels you clench around him, clawing into your hip. “You gonna cum f’me? Go ahead, baby. Let it all go, I know you need it.” His words bring you over the edge as you seem to cum on his command. But that doesn't stop him.

He still hasn't came yet, you remembered. He fucks you through your orgasm, pace not seeming to be letting up anytime soon. The quickness of his hips, his balls slapping your cunt at the ferocious speed he’s kept all this time. He flips you around, making you face him. He captures your lips in a sloppy kiss, his grip on your throat tightening.

You feel his warm tongue explore your mouth, groaning into the kiss. His other hand goes back to playing with your nipple, tugging and rolling the bud between his fingers. One of your hands reaches up to his face, holding his cheek as he continues to fuck into you. He decides to change the position as he releases your throat, turning you back towards the wall, and bringing both of your hands behind you. He holds both your hands in one of his and rests his hand atop your head, his hand tangling in your hair and pulling your head back.

He begins pounding into you from behind at an erratic speed, chasing his high, “You're doing so good, baby. Keep moving your hips, shit, just like that.” He groans, slapping your ass as he continues his ministrations.

Feeling overstimulated, you pull your hand out of his and try to brush his thigh back, in an attempt to slow his pace. “F-fuck, ohmygod, p-please,” you hiccup, watching his face turn into a scowl. “What? Don't tell me you can’t, oh fuck—d-don’t tell me you can't fucking take it now?” he chuckles, bringing another hand to your ass and gripping the rose-colored flesh.

“That’s n-not, fffuck, yes— That’s not w-what I said, don't stop please, shittt,” you stutter out, he chuckles at how incoherent you’ve become and coos from behind you. “Uh huh, okay. Of course, what was I thinking? Thinking a slut like you would’ve wanted to stop,” he laughs. You whimper at his words, “I’m not a s-slut!” — “Aw, you sure?” He taunts, watching tears well up in your eyes. “Oh, pretty baby, why are you crying?” he asks, faux concern lacing his tone, “I thought you liked it when I fucked your brains out?” He taunts once again, listening to you whimper at the overstimulation.

“No words now?” You hear him ask as you mumble incoherently, reaching out toward his hand for stability. A small smirk ghosts over his lips at your neediness, his fingers ghosting over yours as his other hand continues gripping the meaty flesh of your ass. “Look at you—jumbling all of the words that come out of that pretty mouth, so pretty.” You moan pathetically, feeling your orgasm approaching once again.

You feel his cock twitch inside of you, hearing his breaths become more erratic as he also feels his climax approaching. “F-fuckkk, baby. I’m right t-there, keep moving, please,” he moans, releasing your hand and placing his on your hips. You place your hands on the concrete wall, trying your best to keep yourself stable. You bounce back towards him, letting him take a break from doing all the work. His hands caress your back, reaching to pull you up. He holds you close to his chest, catching your lips in a kiss that's different from the last one.

The kiss is so passionate that you nearly forget your surroundings. His plush lips press against yours, hungry and intense. The adrenaline rushes through both of your veins, the pent-up anger and constant arguments have built the tension between the two of you. Your hand tangles in his hair as his hand grabs your chin, deepening the kiss. You start to feel a warm sensation in your chest, butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

In the midst of your shared kiss, both of your orgasms creep up on you and take you by surprise. He moans out of bliss; groaning into the kiss. Your back arches intensely as his hips still, releasing thick strings of cum into your fluttering pussy, your orgasm following soon after.

Your second orgasm hits harder than the other; you’re squirting on his cock, body jerking in his arms as he kisses your neck, easing you through your orgasm. You moan loudly, loud enough for him to have to cover your mouth. “Shhh, you did so good. So perfect f’me, my perfect girl.” He kisses your neck, watching as you come down from your orgasm. You let out cracked sobs, hearing him coo as he wipes them away.

“Breathe, baby.” He rubs your hip, massaging it softly. “You took me like such a good girl, so proud of you,” he kisses your lips, turning you back around toward him. He stares at you; his eyes are no longer lust-filled but full of love. He looks down at the shreds of your clothes, shocked. He knows he did that but it's still pretty shocking, which he laughs about.

You look at him, cracking a smile. He catches your eyes and begins smiling as well, “I really did that, huh?” he asks, a bit of shyness overtaking him. You smile timidly, nodding your head as he picks up the pieces of your suit.

“I’ll get this sewn back together for you—if you want me to,” he insists kindly, looking at you awaiting a response. You wave your hand in front of his face, “I don't need you to, I have plenty of others at your place.” He smiles at your insinuation of staying over and chuckles softly. You watch his eyes turn into crescent moons, followed by his sweet laugh.

He raises a hand to your face, caressing the soft skin of your cheek. “I’m sorry,” you pause, looking up at him to show how genuine you truly are. “For telling our business to the press, I really just wanted a rise out of you and-” “It’s okay baby.” He smiles, pinching your cheek softly.

“Even though you do get on my nerves at times, I still love you, y’know this. Plus,” he pauses, looking away for dramatic effect, “You know I hate false accusations.”

He winks at you, catching you slightly off guard. “Yeah, trust me I know. You’ve always wanted to prove a point,” you scoff with a minor eye roll. “Whatever do you mean? I’ve never wanted to prove a point in my life,” he hums, pulling up his pants. You raise your eyebrow at him, leaning back against the wall. “Don't even, you don't remember that one time when you-”

“Shhh. You're prettier when you're quiet, baby,” he says, placing his finger on your lips. You roll your eyes, smiling at his response. He smiles back at you, ticking his head to the side, “You wanna head home?” — “Please, I’m quite literally bare.” He laughs at your comment, pulling out his grappling hook and latching you on his side.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

★ TAGLIST: @boba-beom, @gardnhee, @n0-thisispatrick, @hyukafied, @luvsoobs, @choiwrld, @majestyjun, @tyunkus, @belovedxiao, @h00nerz, @sugaringgcaramel . . .

☆ NETWORKS: @k-labels . . .

319 notes · View notes

gmikaelson · 2 months ago

Text

Ego

WC: 2k

Summary: You run into Klaus at the grill leading to some banter A/N: this is my first time writing so any feedback is appreciated. I hope you enjoy it!

𐙚⋆˙˚◞♡ ✮⋆˙ ₊˚⊹♡ : ̗̀ 𐙚⋆˙˚◞♡ ✮⋆˙ ₊˚⊹♡ : ̗̀ 𐙚⋆˙˚◞♡ ✮⋆˙ ₊˚⊹♡ : ̗̀ 𐙚

You’re meeting up with Elena at the Mystic Grill, or at least you were supposed to. Your friend needed help at the last minute, so here you are, an hour late. You burst through the door and slam into a man. He grabs you and steadies you.

“Watch it, love.” The man says, and your heart sinks. It’s Klaus Mikaelson.

You push the fear aside, looking up at him with annoyance, "aren't you the one with vampire senses?

Klaus chuckles a soft sound that tickles your ear. "Indeed, I am. But even vampire senses can't predict every move a beautiful woman might make. I must admit, though, it's been quite a pleasant surprise." He releases you and steps back, letting you see his face, his gorgeous face–stop. You won't allow yourself to think about his fae like that. Or his eyes that were a dark shade of blue and full of mischief, or his lips that curled into a smirk.

“Where are you headed off to in such a hurry?” He asks, looking you over.

You see his eyes as they travel all over you, ew, "away from you", you say, trying to walk past him.

Klaus’s hand swiftly catches your arm as you attempt to pass, fingers splayed over your skin. "Now, now, no need to be so cold," he arches an eyebrow, his smirk ever-present. "You've piqued my curiosity, love."

Klaus lets go of your arm, but not before letting his fingertips slowly graze over your skin, a deliberate move hidden under the guise of an accident. "Can't we have a civilized conversation?" He asks, tilting his head slightly to the side with a sparkle in his eyes.

You take a step back and cross your arms, “can't you stop threatening my friends?"

Klaus chuckles dryly, leaning against a nearby counter. "I assume you're referring to the Bennett witch, the doppelgänger, and the Salvatore brothers?" He lifts a casual shoulder. "Oh, they've been causing enough trouble of their own.” He says, smirking and looking down for a moment.

You see his gaze wander back to you, sharp and assessing. "But I can see why they're protective of you," Klaus says, his voice dropping a notch, a tease playing on his lips. "You're quite the firecracker, aren't you?" His eyes seem to hold an unspoken challenge, a provocation aimed directly at you.

Your brows furrow, "stop looking at me like that"

A slow, leonine smile spans his face at your words, “Like what, love?” He asks, feigning innocence as he meets your gaze with his own, the twinkling hint of amusement present yet again.

Klaus leans slightly forward, his eyes not straying from your face, "Is it making you uncomfortable?" He asks, voice filled with warmth that doesn't match the steely glint in his eyes, a contrast that could either be intriguing or unnerving. "Or is it something else?"

You tilt your head, assessing him before settling on "like you don't know if you want to kill or kiss me"

A genuine laugh escapes Klaus, rich and animated as he takes a step closer. "Well, I'd have to admit, you do have a knack for keeping me on my toes, love," he says, voice low and steady.

Although there's no inherent threat in his gaze, there's a certain intensity that could be interpreted as such. His eyes now hold a different kind of spark – one that conveys interest, curiosity, and something else you can't quite put a finger on.

"I can assure you, I have no intention of killing you... or potentially kissing you, for that matter. At least, not until you ask me to." The corners of his mouth curl up into a cheeky smirk, his eyes never leaving yours

You roll your eyes, "Wow, look at you, such a gentleman” you deflect but couldn’t deny the way his gaze made you feel.

Klaus chuckles, the sound low and resonant, as he takes a step closer to you. "Well, I do have my moments, love," He murmurs, eyes glinting with humor.

"Although 'gentleman' is not usually how I'm described," He continues, his tone light despite the underlying tension. His gaze travels over your face, taking in your beauty, before finally settling on your eyes. There's a certain spark in them – defiance, perhaps, or challenge – that he finds rather intriguing.

"Would you prefer something else?" Klaus asks, leaning in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. His breath dances across your skin, a subtle intimacy that lingers between you. "Tell me, what do you think I should do?" he challenges, eyes smoldering with anticipation.

You smile not so innocently at him "I would tell you to go jump off a cliff, but unfortunately we both know that wont kill you."

Klaus chuckles at your response, finding amusement in your fiery retort. "True, jumping off a cliff wouldn't do much to me," he admits, the humor in his eyes only intensifying with your words. "But it's quite refreshing to hear someone wish death upon me with such spirit."

He takes a step back from you, crossing his arms over his chest while his eyes continue to roam over you. There's a playful light in his gaze now, an unspoken invitation for you to continue your verbal sparring. "Would you like to suggest something else, love?" he asks, his voice laced with a teasing dare. "Or is there something else you'd like to see me do?" Klaus asks, his tone subtly flirtatious. There's a slight lift of his brow, a provocative challenge lingering in his eyes.

You put a finger on your chin, pretending to think, "hm, I don't know, how about we go find a pit of White Oak sticks and I push you into it?"

Klaus lets out a hearty laugh at your suggestion, clearly entertained. "Oh love, you're full of surprises," he says, grinning as he glances at you. His eyes hold a sense of admiration, a glimmer of respect for your bold, if not slightly dangerous, suggestion.

"But as thrilling as that sounds," he continues, a wry smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he moves closer to you, "I think I'd prefer to avoid an untimely demise."

He tilts his head slightly, meeting your eyes with a playful glint in his own. "Now, if there's something less... fatal you'd like to do," he suggests, his voice dropping to a murmur as he leans in, "I'm all ears."

You put a hand on his chest and push him back so his face was back in front of you, "is this your twisted way of suggesting we should do something together?" you ask, raising a brow at him.

Klaus raises a brow back at you, his smirk still intact. "Well, you've caught me, love," he admits, not bothering to hide the amusement in his voice. His eyes twinkle with mischief, a clear sign of his enjoyment of their banter.

"But I must say," he leans in again, his voice dropping to a whisper, "I'm intrigued by the idea of us spending some time together." His gaze flicks down to your lips for a brief moment before focusing back on your eyes, an unspoken invitation lurking in the depths of his gaze.

"Perhaps we can find something less dangerous and more... enjoyable to do," he suggests, the tease in his voice evident. His fingers lightly graze the back of your hand, a subtle touch that sends sparks of anticipation between you. "Unless, of course, you've got other plans."

You smile at him, bewildered, “You honestly think that i’d go out with you? Your ego is bigger than I thought"

Klaus chuckles, an easygoing sound that belies the intensity burning in his gaze. "Well, one can always hope, can't they?" he replies, a hint of teasing in his voice.

"But you're right," he admits, crossing his arms across his chest and leaning back casually. "My ego may indeed be larger than most. Comes with the territory of being an Original, I suppose."

His eyes meet yours, the usual playful light replaced with a more sincere look. "But I promise you, there's more to me than meets the eye." A glimmer of vulnerability flashes through his gaze, quickly replaced with his usual confident demeanor.

"But who knows?" he muses, a twinkle returning to his eye. "Maybe one day you'll find that out for yourself." His fingers lightly brush the back of your hand once more, a lingering touch full of unspoken promises.

You motion in his direction, “So you're saying that if I got to know you, I'd see more than just a deranged psycho-murdering asshole?"

Klaus laughs, a genuine, hearty laugh that seems to lighten the tension between you. "Well, when you put it like that, it's hard to argue," he admits, his eyes sparkling with humor.

He leans in close to you, his eyes holding yours with an intensity that takes you breath away. "But yes," he murmurs, his voice a low, seductive drawl, "I am saying that. We all have our secrets, our hidden depths. Even someone like me."

He pauses for a moment, giving you a chance to take in his words. Then, with a sly grin, he adds, "And who knows, love? You might even like what you find." His fingers lightly trail down your arm, his touch sending a shiver of anticipation down you spine.

"But for now," he continues, pulling back and giving you a playful wink, "I'll be content knowing I've piqued your curiosity. Even if only just a bit."

I shrug, "what can I say? I like proving people wrong," you say, not sure why your heart was beating so fast.

Klaus chuckles at your response, clearly amused by your boldness and the sound of your heart. "Well, I must say, love, I do enjoy a challenge," he admits, his eyes twinkling with a mischievous light.

"Perhaps one day you'll get your chance to prove me wrong," he continues, his gaze intently focused on yours. "I, for one, am looking forward to it."

He leans in closer then, your faces just a breath apart, "Until then," he whispers, his voice a low, seductive drawl, "keep that fiery spirit of yours. It suits you."

With a final, lingering glance and a playful wink, Klaus steps back, leaving you with a sense of anticipation for what might come next. But as always, with Klaus Mikaelson, one can never be quite sure.

You scoff, rolling your eyes as he walks out. What even was that? You shrug it off, looking around The Grill for Elena. When you don't spot her, you pull your phone out, seeing a text from her about an hour ago:

Hey Y/N, sorry to cancel but Stefan needs me for something.

Seriously? You have could avoided that whole thing with Klaus if you had just checked your phone.

𐙚⋆˙˚◞♡ ✮⋆˙ ₊˚⊹♡ : ̗̀ 𐙚⋆˙˚◞♡ ✮⋆˙ ₊˚⊹♡ : ̗̀ 𐙚⋆˙˚◞♡ ✮⋆˙ ₊˚⊹♡ : ̗̀ 𐙚

The next day, you wake up to a package at your door. You look around, not spotting anyone before taking the box into your room, and placing in on your bed. You untie the big black ribbon., taking the top off.

Inside, the box contained a dress, jewelry, and a note

Opening the note, you see Klaus's elegant handwriting flowing across the cream-colored paper, attached to a stunning emerald green evening gown that would perfectly complement your complexion. Beside it lies an antique diamond necklace that catches the light, throwing crystalline reflections across the walls.

Dearest y/n,

Since you're so intent on proving me wrong about yourself, I thought I'd give you the perfect opportunity. There's a gala at the Lockwood mansion tonight. I'd be honored if you'd accompany me - though I suspect you'll say no just to spite me.

The dress is from 1820 Paris. The necklace belonged to a Russian duchess - don't worry, love, she parted with it willingly. I thought they might suit someone who isn't afraid to challenge an Original.

Prove me wrong about your answer?

Klaus

P.S. I'll be at your door at 8. Feel free to slam it in my face - though I do hope you won't.

You look at the dress and the jewelry, both exquisite and tasteful, the dress a beautiful, figure-hugging gown in a color that would perfectly complement your eyes, and the jewelry, elegant pieces that would add just the right amount of sparkle.

It's a grand gesture, borderline manipulative in its extravagance, but there's something about it that makes you smile. Maybe it's the audacity of it, the sheer, unapologetic boldness. Or perhaps it's that you can’t help but be a little intrigued by Klaus's offer - the promise of a challenge, the allure of the unknown.

After all, as you had mentioned the previous night, you do enjoy proving people wrong.

𐙚⋆˙˚◞♡ ✮⋆˙ ₊˚⊹♡ : ̗̀ 𐙚⋆˙˚◞♡ ✮⋆˙ ₊˚⊹♡ : ̗̀ 𐙚⋆˙˚◞♡ ✮⋆˙ ₊˚⊹♡ : ̗̀ 𐙚

#klaus mikaelson #klaus mikaelson x reader #the originals #tvdu

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