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running-with-kn1ves · 7 months ago

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Fitness Trainer

A/N: I blended some french terms of endearment with English don't come for me. But is Antoine really French, or is he feigning this way to get closer to you? (Had a fem idea for this too)

Synopsis: Another day at the gym, your personalized trainer is helping you out a lot more intimately than he would with most clients.

TW: Creep gym trainer, yandere themes, mentions of future stalking/imagined groping, sensual content

And up... and down, just like that."

The squeeze on your hips kept you stable, even with your fingers shaking, mouth agape as hot breath was sucked in, and out.

"One more, you can do one more for me."

"I can't..." you huffed, thighs quaking as the barbell on your shoulders made you ache.

"Yes you can. C'mon sweetheart, we'll do it together."

He gripped the barbell beside where your sweating hands were, chest flush against your back as his feet entrapped the outside of your own.

“Do it with me now,” He pulled the weight lower, forcing you to squat despite the agony in your ankles and tailbone. “Push through it, baby.”

The sweet name just slipped out, breathy against your ear as his hot exhales slowed compared to your huffs. It almost made you slip.

You could feel the muscles in your wrists shaking, vision going blurry as sweat drips into your eyes. One of his hands leaves the barbell to grip your hip, forcing you back into a standing position as your knees nearly give out.

You rise slowly back up with the barbell in your hands, nearly groaning in pain at the strain. You finally lift your arms to your chest, finishing the rep with a strained frown as your personal trainer forces the weight off of your arms. His taller stature makes it easy to put the barbell back on the rack in front of you.

You feel as if you could collapse, an hour and a half of intense training brought upon by your own determination leaving you exhausted and a little discouraged. You thought you could do more, push yourself harder-- but at the end of the day, the amount of reps your body would let you do, was it. You’d crack if you tried to go even further, end up tearing something or worse.

Your trainer could tell; the way you sweat, your eyebrows furrowed as you kept that hard, strained look with each motion he made you do.

“I hate to say it, but you’re done for today.”

You look up at him from your place on the ground, water bottle hanging from your grip as you try to catch your breath.

Antoine had only worked with you for a couple weeks now, what started as once a week now thrice, if you had the time after work of course. But somehow, he always enticed you to come back.

His body, which should’ve been motivation, was more or less disheartening-- rippling muscles and bulging quads peeking beneath his tight ‘TRAINER’ black tee and athletic shorts as the perfect ensemble.

He was so sweet, so encouraging and upsettingly positive. Always filling up your water bottle, saying how he’s always admiring the growth of muscle definition in your back, giving you light touches to show which area of your body that a machine might work out. He even offered post-exercise massages to make sure you didn’t get sore after each session, free of cost as a perk of joining the gym’s ‘premium membership’, an idea he sold you on. That, along with the complementary protein shakes made that were hi “specialty.”

You knew it was his job to hook you in, but who could say no to that sweet meathead’s face? Which is why you were here, on a late saturday afternoon, in this nearly empty gym with him that he convinced you to love.

You couldn’t help but feel a little guilty, even if he was the one persuading you, offering to use his time off to come in and help train you.

“Feelin’ sore?” Antoine bends down next to you, offering a small towel from his pocket. The twinge of accent in his speech makes him sound funny, dry lips parted as he looks you over. “You went harder than usual today.”

“Yeah,” You let out after a gulp of water. “Definitely gonna feel this later tonight; ha, maybe I’ll actually take you up on one of those massages.”

You point with your water bottle, grinning tiredly as Antoine’s eyes seem to shine. He licks his lips to hide a giddy grin.

“Of course-- definitely, I’d be more than happy to. These hands can work magic you wouldn’t believe.”

Antoine shuffles behind you, pulling at your shoulders to make you sit up straight.

“Wha- you mean right now? I’m all, sticky.”

“Now’s the best time, your muscles are just coming down from the effort they’ve exerted. Best to prevent any aches and pains as soon as possible rather than waiting.”

He begins gentle rubs against the base of your neck; vast, warm fingers grace your collar with a softness you hadn’t expected. Usually when people try to massage your shoulders they’re too harsh, too grippy; but Antoine was rhythmic, pushing into your back with his palms as he made his way down to your shoulder blades.

“But considering you’ve pushed so hard, I don’t want to see you back here for a couple of days.” Antoine insisted.

“Awe, you want me outa here that badly?” You joked, laying your head forward as Antoine’s fingers made their way to the back of your neck, running pressed thumbs down from your hairline. “I see how it is, prefer your other clients over me.”

It felt sort of weird, having him massage you so deeply on the gym floor out in the open. But the only person here in the middle of the afternoon was an older woman, paying more attention to her cellphone on the treadmill than anything you two were doing.

Antoine shook your shoulders.

“Don’t say that, now!” He leaned his head over next to yours from behind, getting so close your nose almost brushed against his cheek. “It’s not funny; I hope you don’t see me that way.”

“It’s just a joke,” You titter, running your handtowel down the front of your shirt.

“I never understand your jokes.” He sighs, hands moving down to your tailbone. He lifts the bottom of your shirt sticking to your skin, digging his hands against the soft flesh.

“Woah, hey,” You turn to look at him, but his head is down, looking at his fingers.

“I have to get to your hips, you can’t do so many squats without release. And at the rate you were going to day… well, you see what I mean.”

The bottom of your tanktop covers his knuckles as he pulls and kneads the skin of your lower back.

“O-okay.. I guess..”

He’s not usually so insistent, but he seems so genuine about it-- and, he’s the trainer, shouldn’t they know best?

He begins with little strokes to your skin, almost caressing. You grow anxious until his thumbs push deep lines into your flesh.

“Does that feel a little better, Mon cœur? Less pain?” He asks up close, staring at your heated and perspiring cheeks.

You’re awed by how good it actually feels, the tension melting away with each push of his knuckles into your skin, and grip of his hands around your waist as each of his thumbs digs into your sides.

“Yeah… feels a lot better..”

“You can rest your head on my shoulder, don’t be embarrassed, sweetheart.”

You do as he says, arching your back with your head against his shoulder. He had easier access into your back, working his hands up beneath your shirt to reach your mid abdomen.

The deeper Antoine kneaded, the farther he grew up your back, the more… audible, his groans became. Each dip was another breathy moan into your ear. It was fine at first, just the sounds of his work; and then, it became almost, uncomfortably sensual.

“Just like that...” He mumbled, giving a deep hum.

With your neck so close, his nose dips against your jaw to sneak a sharp inhale of your scent. It was heightened from your hour of strenuous work, a smell he couldn’t get enough of.

But you jumped forward before he could nuzzle as deep against you as he wished.

“Uh! Thanks, I feel a lot better now. Really… got all the kinks out.”

You clutch your towel, facing your trainer to prevent him from working his “magic fingers” again.

“Of course. And that’s just a taste, a fully body massage would leave the workout you just completed to drain away, as if it was just a dream.” He wiggles his hands with a sheepish grin, one so simple and sincere your guard fell again.

Sure, guys at the gym could be creeps, but he was your trainer, eyes kind and a little foreignly clueless, who only wanted to see you thrive; he’d never try something with you, his client.

“Yeah, maybe next time. But now, I need to shower and get this stink off of me.” You bring yourself to your feet, all wobbly and achy-galore. Even with Antoine’s work on your shoulders, you can feel your back beginning to seize up. It’s gonna be hard to bend down for a while.

Offering a hand to Antoine still on the rubbery gym floor, he takes it with a slight ease. He doesn’t use the weight in his hand to get up, knowing he’d just drag you back down to the floor if he did.

“Thanks again-- I mean, I know it’s your job but--”

“Don’t thank me; it’s always a treat to have you here, my cherie. I’d train you for free, you know!”

You laugh, flattered at the idea. If you were a bit more forward, you’d ask him for that little perk. Hey, paying for his service certainly wasn’t cheap!

Making your way to the bathroom, you thank your lucky stars the hard part’s over. Too bad you can’t look at Antoine’s pretty face anymore, though.

Antoine on the other hand, follows your stumbling body with his eyes, watching as you disappear behind the water fountain and bathroom door.

His eyes jut back and forth between the machines and front door for witnesses, seeing none before snatching up your forgotten towel. How’d you never notice they didn’t just give these things out?

He’d brought the cute handkerchief from home, wanting to appear the most of a gentleman. And, in the hopes that you’d use it every and anywhere.

Oh, he thrived off that scent, pushing the white damp cloth heavy against his nose. It smelled even more potent of you, moreso than the few inches away of sniffs he usually got.

His tongue just barely brushed against it, writhing in ecstasy from how it still held the stickiness of your sweat. You didn’t know how intoxicating it was to him, watching each bead of sweat leave your neck, the dip of your back when he got the chance to help hold that barbell with you… it was almost maddening, how strictly he had to restrain himself from lapping at your hot skin and running his hands beneath your gymwear.

No, he had to save this for later. What would his manager think if he saw him acting so ferally?

Besides, there were more important matters to attend to. Such as, taking out the bathroom trash, a simple excuse to slide his manager for the opportunity to watch you shower.

Who knew working here would have such great advantages in getting close to you.

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just-some-random-blogger · 8 days ago

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Tormented Spirit | 5

Part 1 2 3 4 5 6

"Is it such a sin to stand up for yourself?" you mutter as tears blur your vision. The way he reacted was visceral, instinctive even. "You never have to stand up for yourself ever again," says Daemon, reaching a hand to you, "come."

Daemon Targaryen x Hightower!Reader | 4k+ | cw: fem!reader, reader has brown hair, wife!reader, twin!Gwayne, arranged/forced marriage, canon divergence, alternate universe, slow burn, DD:DNE, panic/anxiety attacks, daddy issues/child abuse/family problems, mentions/depictions of mental/physical/psychosomatic illness, ye old misogyny, angst, typos, etc.

A/N: guys this not fully proofread as I am exhausted | cross posted on ao3

@arabellasleopardcoat

You cannot tear your eyes away from Daemon as you walk down the halls together. Though he already told you the blood on his armor was not his, you could not help but worry that perhaps he had a wound hidden away underneath his steel plate. Your stare is so heavy, he's unable to ignore it, thus why he huffs, "out with it."

You perk at his words and rub your hands together.

He raises a brow at you, "or do you merely think me so devastatingly handsome you cannot help but stare?"

You slowly shake your head, "are you certain you are unharmed?"

His eyes linger on you for a moment before he looks forward, "I am offended you did not agree."

You knit your brows, "you," you shake your head, "already know. You are comely husband."

He turns back to you.

You cannot name the expression he gives you.

"Did I not say I was unharmed?"

You stop in your tracks out of frustration, grabbing his arm, "Daemon."

He turns to you, face hardening at your look of concern.

"If you are hurt, then we should head for the maester's."

He chuckles under his breath and pulls away, "a funny thought coming from you."

Your brows furrow deeper as you tail after him, "I do not follow."

He looks over his shoulder, lips curling, "considering you are sick and yet nowhere near the maester's ward."

You only then recognize his smile was mocking. You feel a pinch in your chest. You shake your head, "we are not the same. If there was something to be done about my affliction, my father would have seen it done years ago."

Daemon laughs.

You wait for him to explain his laughter, but he does not. You take his arm again, "what amuses you?"

Your husband looks at you, then at the hand you had on his bicep, "through it all, you hold your father in such high regard."

You clench your jaw and release his him.

He enjoys your dejection, thus why he takes your hand, placing it back in its place with a chuckle, "say it isn't so— I dare you."

You look back at him. His smile is like a needle through your heart. He must think you're stupid without even trying. You mutter, "I am merely stating facts."

He laughs again, "your frail heart keeps you naive."

The feel of his armor is suddenly scorching and you have to pull away. He stares at you after the fact, but does not take your hand again.

You do not speak until you reach the door to the meeting room. Once there, Daemon motions with his head, "wait for me. You like flowers don't you?"

You look over your shoulder and realize that he was motioning to the window that gave view to the gardens. You turn back to him and step forward, reaching out to retrieve the flower in his hair. It would not be appropriate for him to attend a council meeting like this.

Daemon mistakes your action for affection, and moves his head away so you cannot caress his cheek, "I said I am unharmed, woman. Now go sit down."

He walks off after this, leaving you standing in the middle of the hall alone. Just as he enters the room, you struggle with yourself if you should call out to him or simply run up to him and snatch the flower off his head. But then, the moment is gone and he's already inside.

You cannot find it in you to sit as you overthink what would become of your husband because of the flower in his hair.

Just as you begin to pace around, you are rendered frozen when you hear your name get called.

Viserys smiles at you, as he and his council members walk over, "good morrow."

You make eye contact with your father, who was walking just behind the king, and lower your gaze as you curtsy, "your grace. A pleasant morning to you."

Viserys stops in front of you, clapping his hands once, "why, you look fetching my dear," his eyes examine your hair, and you, yourself, are reminded by the presence of the blossoms on your head, "did you pick those from the garden?"

You rise and smile at your husband's brother, shaking your head, "my ward, ser Erryk, was kind enough to- ..." you catch yourself amidst your confession, eyes suddenly darting to your father.

Otto's jaw is set and his eyes are already angered.

You gulp and decide to continue nevertheless, "...accompany me flower picking in the meadow."

Otto huffs audibly, but the king's reaction is so stark in contrast, your father does not have the opportunity to butt in this moment. Viserys claps once again and smiles, "oh good. Some fresh air always did help me. Of course, when I say fresh air, I really mean going on dragon back, but strolling in the meadow picking flowers is a fine pastime."

You are touched by the king's amicable sentiment. You repay his smile with your own, "I completely agree."

"I do not," Otto says, "what if you get an attack in the middle of the nowhere? What if the pain is too great and you are not brought home in time?"

Viserys and you turn to the Lord Hand. The king responds, "she was accompanied by her ward. Is that not why you requested one for her?"

"I requested a ward to keep her in check to prevent her from doing things that would cause her affliction to worsen."

You tense under the harsh sound of Otto's voice.

Viserys recognizes your discomfort and waves him off, "you needn't be so hard on your daughter. It is good for the spirit to reserve time frolicking."

You gulp the next time the king smiles at you. You do not smile back and merely curtsy at him. With that, he and his council members go into their meeting room and you are left alone once more.

The council members' muttering comes to a halt when they see prince Daemon in his seat.

"Kind of you to join us today, brother," Viserys huffs, "we were just talking about you."

Daemon eyes Otto, "the topic being my bride, no doubt."

Otto has to fight the urge to roll his eyes as he walks to his chair. His throat constricts, as if he was about to retch, when he sees the flower by his ear. He thinks of you and the flowers in your hair and figures Daemon did this to spur him in. He releases a deep breath to calm himself, "the topic being your power tripping with the City Watch last night."

Daemon glares at him. The king sits at the head of the table. The prince links his hands together, "you would know to mind your tongue, Lord Hand. I care little for the tears my wife will shed once I sever your neck from your spine."

"Daemon," Viserys snaps.

"And what I did last night was clean the streets from the putrid scabs of the city in preparation for my birth of my brother's child."

"And you exacted a very public show of extreme violence while doing so," Viserys leans on the table, "you maimed and mutilated peopl-"

"Criminals," Daemon whips his head. He raises his brows, "would you rather they strut free and continue stealing, raping, and killing in your city?"

"I would have them see justice."

Daemon chuckles dryly.

Viserys raises a finger, "your blade is not the writ of justice."

"Do you mean to tell me it's yours?" the younger Targaryen narrows his eyes.

"I AM THE KING," the elder Targaryen snaps.

The prince does not flinch, "speaking loudly will not make it truer, brother."

Needless to say, the meeting is coarse and uncomfortable.

You start from where you were sat by the window upon witnessing Daemon shove the meeting doors open. He storms out of the room grumbling and you have to gather your skirts to run off after him.

"What's happened?" you mutter when you reach his side.

He ignores you, simply continuing to march away with a storm cloud overhead.

You are partially surprised to find that he was heading towards your shared chambers. He shoves the doors open then marches towards your private baths. There, your tub holds steaming water. You were grateful the servants thought to prepare the bath here and not Daemon's personal quarters.

Daemon begins to callously remove his armor and immediately ceases when you come towards him to do it yourself. You look between his hard expression and hard attire, thinking of something to say to calm his down.

You think of nothing.

The moment he is free of his steel, he removes the rest of his garbs himself and steps into the tub. You meant to remove the flower in his hair but then he wordlessly offers you his arm, expecting you to clean him, and so you do without fuss.

In the quiet of washing and splashing water, you feel Daemon slowly begin to relax. He leans back, releasing a sigh as he shuts his eyes. You stare at him for a long moment. He is beautiful.

"Your father is a fucking cunt."

You purse your lips as you release his arm. He opens his eyes when you pull away, then watches as you circle around the tub. You sigh as you take his other arm and begin scrubbing it, "he is... sometimes unkind."

He scoffs, turning to you, "sometimes?"

You focus on his arm, unwanting to meet his gaze, "he was kind to my mother... I think. And to my brother... sister... sometimes."

Daemon watches you, brows furrowing, "and you?"

You shrug, "sometimes?"

"Why do you defend him?" he tilts his head.

Finally, you look at him. The glint in his violet eyes make him appear as though he genuinely wanted to understand you. You shrug once more and shake your head, "he is my father."

"He is a cunt."

You tilt your head, scooping water onto his arm, "surely you've thought the same thing about your brother." You look between his arm and his face.

Daemon does not respond. He does, however, pull away from you.

You stare at him, trying to anticipate his next move.

He motions with his head then leans back in the tub once more, "strip. You should bathe with me."

You stiffen at his proposal, but do not object otherwise. You gather your hair and turn around, "will you undo my laces?"

Daemon, for some reason, is taken aback by the request. There is something that swirls in his gut. Still, he moves towards you and undoes your ties, pushing your dress down after. You shudder when he frees you of your shift and strokes your spine with the back of his hand.

"The king demands we have a family dinner before the tourney tomorrow," Daemon mindlessly mutters, "you must wear something pretty."

You gulp when he kisses your shoulder and scratches your sides until he's cupping your breasts. You gasp and turn when he tries to pull you in. Finally, the flower in his hair falls off when your nails dig into his scalp as he kisses you.

By the time the water goes cold and your bliss from love making wears off, you are faced with the fact your neck and collarbones are covered in glaring purple and red marks again.

Daemon does not relent as you both dress. He is adamant in covering your skin with bruises and bites. You are not surprised that he makes you wear something that showcases your decolletage, but you at least find solace in the fact he makes you keep your hair down in its natural state.

The air is tense as your families eat dinner. You sit next to each other, with him to your right, followed by Viserys and Aemma. In front of the queen was Rhaenyra, then Alicent by the left, Gwyane, and finally your father, who sat before you.

There was something serene in the sinister way Daemon strokes your arm and pushes your hair back. You knew he was doing this to rile your father up, yet you did not know why your body found comfort in his touch.

Then, in a flash, you were nothing but uncomfortable when your twin drops his silverware and blurts out, "you will not lose your hand if it does not grope my sister as we feast."

Daemon, who had been rubbing the your back all the way to the side of your breast, turned to your brother, who sat across him.

Gwayne clenches his jaw, expecting him to pull away.

Instead, Daemon moves your hair to one side of your shoulder and caresses your neck with the back of his hands, "oh, but you see, now that I've..." he smiles, "sampled your dear sister, I fear that it might."

Otto is next to drop his utensils. Your body burns at Daemon's words but you can do nothing but lower your head in mortification.

Viserys sniggers. Aemma glares and nudges him.

"You would not understand this, for you are unmarried," Daemon says turning his head, "but perhaps your father will."

Viserys nearly chokes on his meal, but then clears his throat, "brother-" he withholds his laughter, "-that is quite enough." The king looks at the faces across the table, none of them but him and Daemon finding this predicament amusing, "I'm sure everyone is... overjoyed that you and your bride have found marital bliss, but do keep your manners," he nods, "you are seated before the king."

Daemon turns to Viserys and straightens up. He nods, "my king."

Viserys clears his throat again and nods, "manners, brother."

"Hmm, like you with Aemma?"

Rhaenyra slams her hands on the table, pushes her chair back, and stands. All turns to her and her sour expression as she speaks, "I'm quite finished with my food. If I may be excused... my king."

Otto stands next, his chair skidding behind him, "I am quite finished with my food as well," he nods at Viserys, "I wish you a good meal."

Your belly rolls when he looks at you.

"Daughter, might you walk me out of the room, there is something I wish to discuss with you."

"She is quite busy with her food," Daemon immediately answers for you, "if you wish to speak something, speak it in front of us."

Your throat tightens.

"Tis a personal matter," Otto speaks firmly, "I would not put my child in an uncomfortable position."

Gwayne watches your expression, feeling restless because of your glaring discomfort.

"But you've already done so announcing your desire to speak to her so that she could not refuse," Daemon snaps.

Your chest begins to constrict. Gwyane picks up on how your breath quickens.

Otto clenches his jaw, "I wish to speak to my daughter."

"Yes, and I say fuck off."

"Daemon," Viserys finally snaps, turning to the said man. The king turns to you, peering past his brother, "you may speak to Otto if you wish, or you may simply continue with your meal."

You turn to your skirt and clench the fabric in your hand.

Daemon rubs your nape and your skin reacts with goosebumps. You gasp when his hand is snatched away by Viserys. You turn to them, struggling to breathe as you watch them bicker in High Valyrian.

Aemma tries to interject, but the brothers do not acknowledge her.

"Sister," Gwayne calls to you.

You want to turn to him, but you fear you will crumble in tears if you do.

The room is silenced when you stand. You feel everyone's gaze on your skin. "I wish-" you speak through a heavy breath, "-to retire."

You run out of the room before anyone can respond. Your heart drums in its cage but you tell yourself to run and to keep running.

Gwyane stands, ready to chase after you, but Daemon blocks him and their bodies violently collide. Daemon shoves him back and Gwyane is about to lunge at him but hears the voice of her baby sister calling his name in concern. His face twitches as he holds himself back.

"She is my wife," Daemon says.

"Then fucking go after her," Gwayne snaps, raising an arm, "she'll be heading to the temple, undoubtedly, which is outside the Keep, if you are not aware."

"Go on!" Otto snaps, pointing a finger, "chase after her."

Daemon seethes at the instruction. Dare he? He'll break the arm that fucking finger is connected to. He wants nothing less than to do what that cunt says.

"Go to her, Daemon," Viserys urges.

He glares at his brother, offended by his alliance with the fucker. Now he is really not going to do that. He's left with no other choice but to leave the damned dining room though. How lucky of him to run into the Cargyll twins on his way out.

"You," Daemon barks, calling the attention of the two men. He marches over to them, hands balled tightly into fists.

"My p-"

"The fucking Hand has upset the bitch again," the prince snaps, "she's run off in a fit to gods know where."

The two watch the prince have a hissy fit in High Valyrian before realizing he referring to his wife. Arryk says, "the princess has run off at this hour?"

"Her cunt twin said she'd go to the temple, but maybe she's fallen dead halfway through her sprint."

The twins turn to each other in horror.

"Ah, if only the gods were that kind," Daemon scoffs then looks between them, "find her. I do not wish to hear her pathetic sobbing."

Erryk's nostrils flare. Arryk clenches his jaw and nods. The latter begins to walk off and has to reel his brother by the arm to follow.

Daemon storms off to the dragon pit.

Arryk eyes his brother. Erryk's eyes remain on the prince, until his twin calls his attention.

You arrive at the temple of the Seven, forehead and nape sheened over with sweat. You nearly collapse before the Mother. The only reason you do not, is because two septas catch you before you collide with the shrine of candles. Upon recognizing you, they are quick to attend to you, saying they will get you water and a towel.

Running is a horrid activity that seems to only more horrid each time you do it. You find that your heart cannot keep up, and you are pushed into horrible breathlessness. Your father was strict to never let you run. You do not know if it is simply because you are not capable of running or because of your affliction that made it so.

You thank the gracious septas for their care and ask them if they would pray with you. Unable to deny you, a woman so devout and so... pitiful, they help you get on your knees and you recite The Mother's prayer together. At some point, you begin to weep, and once more it becomes increasingly harder for you to breathe. The septas have to stop praying and attend to you again.

"Princess!"

You are made to sit down on the floor. The two septas are replaced with two men, both dressed in steel, one as seemly as the other, albeit the mark of abject concern on their face. You frown as you look between Arryk and Erryk's worried features. Your scratch your eyes as they speak to you. The weight in your chest makes it hard to understand.

You hiccup as one of them scoops you into their arms. You do not realize you were being carried out of the temple until you are outside. "Wait," you sigh when you managed to catch a breath, "wait."

Whoever is carrying you does not hear it, but his brother does. He says, "wait, Erryk. What is it, princess?"

"I wish to pray," you mutter, eyes still wet with tears, "please."

Arryk looks at you. Erryk shakes his head, "we have to bring her inside."

"Erryk," Arrryk knits his brows, "she wishes to pray."

"She is in no condition to—" Erryk's words falter when your hand comes to his cheek.

You feel your lips tremble and you barely manage to speak, "please."

A line forms between his brows at the sound of your weak voice, "my prin-"

"Erryk," you stroke his cheek, "I need this."

Arryk looks between you and his brother. He watches him sigh and turn back. He follows after Erryk as he goes up the stairs, back towards the shrine.

You are placed before the Mother once more. You sigh and allow yourself repose before shifting on your knees. The twins leave you to your prayers, standing by not too far off.

Erryk's eyes remain on you. Arryk's eyes remain on Erryk.

"You tread a dangerous path, brother."

Erryk does look away.

Arryk sighs, turning his gaze over to you.

You sit on your knees, one arm rested on the plinth as you take a stick and light it. You whisper, "mummy," then light a candle, "me," then light another. Your soft whispers flutter in the echo chamber.

Both twins feel fangs rip into their stomachs as they watch you. Erryk's features are more honest to it however, which is why Arryk catches it and speaks again, "you are sworn to her, you fool."

"And you are not?" Erryk snaps, turning to his twin.

The brothers stare at each other for a moment. Arryk purses his lips and tilts his head, "I am not in love with her."

"Then leave," Erryk motions with a nod. He shifts in his spot, linking his hands together as he turns back back to you.

Arryk snorts and clenches is hands. His ears perk at the sound of your hushed sobbing. His heart clogs his throat.

Erryk sighs through his nose, "you are still here."

"I cannot leave her."

Erryk turns to Arryk, "then you are just as foolish as I."

"I-" Arryk starts. He cannot look away from you, "... I am sworn to her."

"She is beautiful," Erryk says.

Arryk finally tears his gaze only to shoot his brother a warning look, but Erryk's eyes are back on you.

"She wove flowers into my hair mere hours ago," he knits his brows, "she laughed and beamed and glimmered," Erryk sighs, "now she crumbles and weeps and hurts."

Arryk knits his brows, just as deep as his twin's.

You wipe your tears as you soothe yourself. You voice goes low again as you continue to pray.

"I am not a fool," Arryk says

Erryk laughs dryly, turning to him, "very well. If y-"

"I know she is beautiful," Arryk cuts him off.

His lips flatten.

Arryk gulps, "outside and within."

"As I said," Erryk replies, "just as foolish."

"I do not understand what could posses someone to hurt such a creature."

"Perhaps there is no soul to posses."

Arryk shakes your head, "you cannot allow your anger to get ahead of yourself, fool. You are glad the prince did not notice."

"The prince is too caught up in himself to notice anything that does not directly a..." Erryk's words go dry.

Arryk knits his brows, finding his twin was staring at something behind him. He looks over, stiffening when he catches the very person they were speaking of walking over.

Daemon makes a beeline towards you. He stops just behind you, lips and brows tense at the sound of your evidently upset voice. "Should you be doing this?"

You perk at the sound of the voice and look over your shoulder. You stare at Daemon, unsure if you were imagining him or if he was really there. You find that you don't really care, "will you pray with me?"

He does not like that you do not answer his question. He shifts on his spot, "did you faint or fall out of breath?

You turn back to the candles, "you must not be real."

"What?"

"I do not think my husband would care," you mutter, clasping your hands together in prayer.

Daemon does not move.

"You would pray with me then," you add, "you are kind."

The prince's face contorts. He feels like he is choking. He comes to your side, slowly dropping to his knees. He clasps his hands together, propping his elbows in front of him. He is taken aback by how you rest your head on his shoulder with no hesitation. He stiffens and a part of his mind screams to shove you away. He does nothing of the sort however.

"I tire," you admit.

"Then we sh-"

"Tell him to grant me my prayer."

Daemon slowly turns his head to look at you. He sees the way the tears trickle down from the bridge of your nose, "tell who?"

"The Stranger."

Daemon turns to the statue of the Mother. He wants to be difficult and tell you to simply move to the other statue, but instead he asks, "what is your request?"

"Death."

He turns back to you, expecting you to name a name. You do not, so he asks again, "your father?"

Your brows furrow, "no."

He turns to his hands. An unnamable emotion seizes him, "so... your husband?"

You finally lift your head. You turn to him, a deep frown on your face, "I do not wish you harm, Daemon."

He turns to you.

New tears burn down your cheeks.

A new unnamable emotion seizes him at the sight of your wobbling lips.

The twins find themselves looking away when the prince wipes your cheek.

You lean into his touch, "I have prayed for the same thing every night since I was ten."

Daemon's forehead curls, "what do you pray for?"

"To die."

The hand he had on your face tenses.

"It is pointless," you push his hand away, retreating from his touch, "my pain does not subside. My heart and flesh grow weaker each day."

Daemon is uneasy as you turn back to the Mother. He shakes his head, "I do not think the gods listen to such sinful prayers."

"Sin?" you chuckle under your breath.

Somehow your laughter sounds sadder than your weeping.

"Is it such a sin to stand up for yourself?" you mutter as tears blur your vision.

The way he reacted was visceral, instinctive even. "You never have to stand up for yourself ever again," says Daemon, reaching a hand to you, "come."

You stare at his outstretched palm, then look up at him as he stands. You are loathe to move. You do not think you can, even if you wanted to, "I tire."

He leans over, draping your arm around his shoulders, "I'll bring you to bed."

You say nothing as Daemon pulls you in and carries you in his arms.

For the final time tonight, another unnamable emotions seizes him. It only further intensifies when you rest your head in the crook of his neck.

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blackenedsnow · 2 months ago

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can you do a keatlejuice x fem reader who passes out a lot due to illness?

faint of heart

WARNING: Mentions of fainting due to illness

PAIRING: Beetlejuice x (Fem) Reader

NOTE: Love this idea! I have this problem as well, just not due to illness. So I hope it wrote it decently enough.

SUMMARY: You’ve been dealing with a medical condition that causes you to faint more often than you'd like. Luckily (or unluckily), Beetlejuice, is always nearby when it happens.

You were used to the feeling by now—the lightheadedness that crept in without warning, the sudden exhaustion that drained the strength from your limbs. Still, no matter how accustomed you were to your illness, it didn’t make it any easier when the world around you started to blur and tilt on its axis. It was happening again, the familiar darkness creeping in at the edges of your vision.

“Damn it…” you muttered, swaying on your feet as you reached out to steady yourself against the wall.

Unfortunately, the wall wasn’t much help, and neither was your body. You could already feel yourself slipping, your knees buckling under you as you collapsed. Just before the darkness fully swallowed you, a voice broke through the haze—raspy and loud, with a hint of annoyance.

“Whoa, whoa, hold up there, sweetheart!”

And then, everything went black.

When you came to, the first thing you noticed was the sensation of being cradled in someone’s arms—scratch that, not someone. You didn’t need to open your eyes to know who it was. The smell of dirt, mildew, and that faint hint of something otherworldly told you everything you needed to know.

“Beej,” you groaned softly, trying to sit up, though a wave of dizziness made you reconsider.

“Yeah, yeah, I gotcha,” Beetlejuice’s voice came from above you, and you felt yourself being jostled slightly as he adjusted his grip on you. “Don’t go makin’ it a habit to pass out every time you see my face. I know I’m hot, but c’mon.”

You blinked up at him, his wild hair and striped suit filling your vision as you tried to focus. He was holding you, bridal-style, with a grin plastered on his pale face that was just shy of mischievous.

“Y’know, I could’ve just let you hit the floor. But nooo, I’m the good guy here, right? Heroic ghost with the most, swooping in to save the day.”

You sighed, shaking your head weakly. “Thanks, Beej… but you’re really not a hero.”

He scoffed, his grin widening. “Sure I am! Who else is gonna catch you when you go timber like that? Nobody cares for ya like I do, babe.”

As much as you hated to admit it, there was some truth to his words. Despite his odd personality and penchant for making a scene, Beetlejuice was always there when you needed him. No matter how irritating he could be on a daily basis, when it came down to moments like these, he never failed to show up. Somehow. At the perfect time.

“Seriously, though,” he said, his voice dropping into something that almost sounded like concern, though he tried to hide it behind his usual bravado. “You gotta stop doin’ this. You’re startin’ to freak me out.”

You managed a weak chuckle, patting his chest. “I don’t do it on purpose.”

“Yeah, I know.” Beetlejuice let out a huff, shifting you in his arms as he looked down at you with those mismatched eyes. “Still doesn’t mean I gotta like it. I mean, who’s gonna laugh at my jokes if you’re passed out half the time, huh?”

“You’re plenty funny without me,” you teased, though your voice was still quiet and a bit shaky.

“Nah,” he smirked. “I’m only funny ‘cause you laugh at all my dumb shit.”

For a moment, you both went into a comfortable silence. Sure, he was Beetlejuice—weird, loud, and often over-the-top—but beneath all that was something softer, something that genuinely cared about you. He wouldn’t admit it outright (that wasn’t his style), but the way he stayed close during your fainting spells, the way he always made sure you were okay, said more than his snarky comments ever could.

“You okay now?” he asked after a beat, setting you down gently on the couch. “You need anything? Water? Smelling salts?”

You shook your head, leaning back into the cushions as you took a few deep breaths. “I’m alright… just give me a minute.”

“Take all the time you need, dollface,” he said, plopping down beside you, legs crossed and his elbow resting on the back of the couch. “But hey, if you feel like passin’ out again, at least let me know so I can catch ya in a cool way next time. Maybe do a little spin, toss ya over my shoulder—y’know, something real dramatic.”

You smiled at him, grateful for the way he could turn even the scariest moments into something almost light-hearted. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Beetlejuice winked, tapping the side of his nose. “That’s my girl.”

#beetlejuice #keatlejuice #beetlejuice movie #beetlejuice x reader #keatlejuice x reader #x reader #oneshot #ask #request #fanfic #moviejuice #tim burton x reader #tim burton

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randomshyperson · 1 year ago

Text

I Put A Spell on You - Wanda Maximoff Kinktober #03

Summary: After a tense week and a training session, Wanda finally had enough of your attitude.

Warnings: (+18), heavy smut with power dynamics, brat tamer!Wanda and sub!Reader, edging, orgasm denial, slapping, a lot of teasing, blindfold and magical restrictions, enchanted strap, kind of rough, implied enemies to lovers, some cursing | Words: 3.559k

A/N-> This is almost late. I totally forgot I had to post the stories.

General Masterlist | Kinktober Collection | AO3 | Wattpad

-&-

It was Natasha's idea, or at least it was a Black Widow kind of thing.

Most of what Wanda knew about it came from Steve's official report on the training, and the rest of the story came from Sam gossiping around the tower.

But in a nutshell: You had your vision temporarily impaired on the last mission, you were knocked out by it and it almost fucked everything up. Wanda would have thought that this was all it took to diminish your ego a bit, but instead, you and Nat had a weird widow's agreement about eliminating weaknesses or whatever, and this was adapted to your training.

The whole story was the reason you were training with a blindfold on.

And don't let Natasha hear this, but you were an impressive fighter, even more than the older widow. Somehow you were more agile and stronger than Nat, and it was the kind of thing that made Clint remark worriedly about how much harder your widow training could have been and secretly made Wanda's heart beat faster.

But back to the point: Wanda shared very few training shifts with you. Steve and Nat found peaceful interaction between team members advantageous, so as you didn't get on so well, she had fewer training sessions in your company.

Well, that changed because you seemed determined to prove that you could block blows without seeing them.

"Wow, you're still here." It came out more ironic than she wanted, but Wanda was actually almost impressed. It had been nearly a month since the whole thing had started, and this training was coming after a particularly exhausting mission. She was just going for a quick session - so that the muscles wouldn't lose habit as Steve liked to say - when she found you in the empty tower gym.

The eyes covered by a black cloth were an almost comical sight, or at least, Wanda assumed that finding it funny was what she was feeling, every time she saw your serious and concentrated form, sweating in the gym.

"Good evening, Wanda." You greeted her without looking at her, your head down. You were listening to her movement she assumed.

Wanda muttered the greeting back, busy leaving her belongings on the bench and looking for a treadmill. But you cleared your throat. "Don't you want a real challenge?"

She chuckled, rolling her eyes. "Oh, and that would be you, of course."

You smile, your hands behind your body. Wanda thinks she likes the blindfold, it allows her to stare you brazenly, without you even knowing.

"I'm a legendary fighter, yes."

She has to laugh at how naturally you say that. She takes a quick look at the treadmill, and well, smashing your ass really does sound more interesting.

"Okay, real challenge, show me what you've got."

Wanda positions herself on the opposite side of the mat from you, and clears her throat when you remain static.

" Won't you take your shoes off?"

She grimaces softly. Yeah, your hearing was starting to impress. Sighing begrudgingly, she uses magic to make the shoes come off and float away, and before she even has a chance to speak, you do.

"No magic tricks." It sounds like a serious warning, rather than a request, and Wanda doesn't miss a chance to torment you.

"Oh, is that too much for a legendary fighter?" She mocks, but all she gets back is an easy chuckle that she isn't able to reciprocate because you adjust your training gloves and the movement is distracting enough.

After a moment, you get into position. "I'm ready."

"At last." She scoffs, stepping forward.

Ultimately, she's impressed. And she almost begins to believe that maybe the cloth is fake - there's no chance that you can dodge absolutely all the blows she's so exhaustively learned with such ease.

It doesn't take long for Wanda to start getting impatient, and for you to start smiling at her, in that smug way that makes her skin itch.

She makes a mistake, and it's enough for you to knock her to the ground.

"Again." You say, standing next to her, equally out of breath but without a scratch. Wanda huffs.

"How the fuck are you doing this?" She asks, getting to her feet with a magical push. You swallow dry, taking a step back, very alert.

"Practice, of course." You mutter. "Are you ready to continue?"

But Wanda narrows her eyes, her head tilting slightly at your sudden alertness. She decides to test a theory, and red sparks appear in the air near your head.

The leap you make in the other direction makes her giggle playfully.

"Something wrong, darling?"

You grumble, raising a hand in warning, irritably hitting exactly the right spot to point it at her. "Stop this. I told you, no magic."

But Wanda is tired, and she's feeling naughty tonight. Something about your vulnerability makes her body heat up.

She chuckles darkly, taking steps away that only make you swallow dry. "Someone's scared." She sighs, and the sparks appear again. You gasp, clearly anxious and not knowing where to strike.

It's Wanda's fault, there are too many of those and magic is much harder to defend against.

She chuckles at your state, and you snap back almost immediately."That's not funny, Maximoff."

A magical tug pushes under your knee, behind your elbows, near your foot. Everything makes you jump with fright and sends Wanda into a fit of giggles.

"You're not so cocky when you're scared."

In a desperate attempt, you try to attack the magic, which only disappears into thin air against your skin. Wanda just stands back, watching the scene with amusement.

With an impatient grunt, you raise a finger at her. "Stop this shit, I'm warning you-"

"Don't be rude, darling. I like you best when you're polite." Wanda interrupts, and your exclamation of indignation turns into a grunt of pain when a magical tug forces you to your knees on the mat.

"What the hell?" You gasp, raising your hand to remove the blindfold.

But the sensation that follows is like ropes grabbing your wrists and pinning your fists behind your back. Your heart is racing at the same moment. "Wanda, what the actual fuck you're doing?"

Although you can't see her, you hear her very well. Her slow steps towards you, until she makes you jump gently when she touches your cheek. You swallow dry. "Stop this bullshit, Wanda, I'm serious."

She pushes her tongue into the roof of her mouth, a clicking sound that makes you swallow dry again. Her fingers caress your cheek, and the lack of visibility makes everything all too vivid.

"You have a very dirty mouth, kotenok (kitten)." She retorts in a tone that makes you shudder from head to toe. With a dry throat, you look up, even though you can't actually see her.

It must be a good thing for your sanity, though. God knows what you would have done if you could have seen the way Wanda's eyes darkened with hunger when she saw you on your knees, looking up at her.

Licking your lips, you say calmly: "Be very careful with your next action, Wanda. It will be definitive for our future interactions."

She bites back a smile, and her hand leaves your cheek for your hair, the motion in the strands at the nape of your neck drawing a stubborn sigh from your lips.

"See, it's much better when you're polite." She says softly, letting her fingers slide between the strands, stroking your hair gently. "That's how it goes. You behave nicely, and you're rewarded. Behave badly, and well..."

To illustrate, she moves her free fingers. You hear the magic before you feel it - right under your blouse, like a rough tug on your left nipple that makes you grunt in pain.

"Fuck, you little shit-" But swearing at her makes it worse. The sensation is repeated on the other nipple, not real enough to hurt the flesh, but enough to cause pain. And in the current scenario, on your knees and blindfolded, just the right amount for a wave of pleasure to wet your panties.

It takes you by surprise, so much so that instead of grunting in pain, you practically moan. And that makes Wanda smile, especially as she can see the blush rising on your face.

"You need to improve that attitude." She starts again, adjusting the grip on your hair to force your face in her direction again. You bite the inside of your cheek hard, certain that this time, you would have whimpered. "You've been acting like this for too long, you've gotten comfortable in your naughtiness. I can fix that."

"Wanda..."

"Shush, darling, now you don't talk. You listen. Isn't that what you were hoping to train yourself to do?" She teases, and the grip loosens. You don't have to obey, but you're desperate to do so.

With a lump in your throat, you nod and remain silent. And the next second, when the sound of a zipper fills the room, you grow restless and alert.

You're ready to question when Wanda sighs.

"Shit, honey, that's been working for me too." She panted and you were dying to understand what the hell she was talking about when, along with her shortened breaths, you heard a sound that shook your body to its core.

Was it really possible that Wanda Maximoff was fingering herself right in front of you?

"W-wanda-"

The slap isn't magical - nor is it weak. Your cheek burns, but Wanda grabs your face anyway.

"I told you to be quiet." She grunts, and in a way, the affected voice is confirmation enough of your suspicions. You can feel your underwear starting to feel uncomfortable with the dampness gathering. "You've talked a lot of shit since I joined the team, now you listen, you brat."

Not only do you hear it, but as the movements continue, you can smell it. Her sweet, intoxicating essence is enough to make you moan for the first time in the night.

Wanda let that one slide, because the sound is too good to punish you for it.

And because you've held still long enough for her fingers not to be enough anymore, she's decided that you deserve a reward.

"Open your mouth, darling, I've got a little treat for you." She sighs, and you obey almost immediately, even though your face is burning.

Wanda removes her fingers from inside herself, sighing softly as she does so. Unhurried, she presses them against your tongue and has to bite down hard on her own when you buckle forward, sucking on her fingers with enthusiasm.

"Look at you, who knew you were such an eager little thing?" She taunts, although the sensation of your tongue on her fingers is almost making her lose her train of thought. She can only imagine how deliciously warm you must feel elsewhere.

You just keep moaning, sucking all her wet pleasure from her fingerprints, and Wanda has to reach down and grab your hair once more to regain some of her sense of grounding.

Her voice is hoarse when she speaks again, but you don't seem to mind. "Did you like your treat, darling?"

You open your mouth to reply but hesitate before doing so. And Wanda smiles proudly when she realizes. "Oh, dear, you can speak if it's to answer my questions. Tell me how much you appreciated your treat."

Swallowing dryly, you lower your head. "I loved it, Wanda. And I would love to taste it from the source."

She bites back a giggle, using one hand to lift your chin. "You didn't even thank me."

"Th-"

The magic squeeze comes directly to your clit now. You let out a little yelp, but Wanda's hand doesn't let you lower your head.

"I didn't tell you to thank me. Rather, I was reprimanding you because good manners don't come to you naturally." She clarifies, and with tears of pain and pleasure in your covered eyes, you nod in understanding. Wanda sighs. "I'm going to make a good girl out of you, even if I have to keep you on edge all night for it."

The whimper that escapes your throat is humiliating, Wanda loves the sound.

The next sensation on your skin is that of a chain, wrapping itself around your neck.

"We need to continue this in a more private place, darling. Where no one will interrupt us." Wanda guides, and the chain gives a gentle tug, the hint caught just in time by you, who are on your feet almost immediately. Wanda bites back a smile. "Fuck, I could get used to this."

She manages to lead you quietly and obediently through the empty corridors, but your anxiety overcomes you at the door to her room.

You stop walking, gulping. Wanda smiles because you're waiting for permission to ask a question, even when you're dying to have it answered.

"It's my room." She clarifies, but you shake your head, signaling that it wasn't your doubt. She shouldn't be impressed that you've already become able to memorize the sound of the way to the rooms, but she is. Smiling, Wanda brings a hand up to your face again. "What do you wish to ask, darling?"

You sigh at the permission granted. "Are you... are you sure? About this..." Wanda is taken aback. Your hands are still bound, you're still blindfolded, at her mercy, and yet you're worried about how sure and comfortable she is. You take a deep breath as if trying to find the right words. "This is important, Wanda. We can't go back to how things were before if I come in. And if you're not sure, send me away, and I swear we won't talk about this again and-"

Wanda moves in, it's quick and less hungry than she thought your first kiss would be, considering recent events and frankly, the way she's been craving you.

Your lips are soft and kind of addictive. Your mouth kisses her with real confidence as if you've done it a dozen times, and Wanda has no idea how often you've done it in your dreams.

But reality is superior to any of those.

You grunt against her mouth, impatiently, and Wanda knows it's because of your trapped hands. But all she can do is smile mischievously, using hers to pull you by the shirt into the room.

The door is magically closed behind the two of you.

You're not surprised to be put on your knees again - even if a moan of protest escapes you. Wanda smiled, feeling a wave of excitement at your vulnerable anxiety, your eyes blindfolded and your head moving gently as if you expected to hear what she was up to.

Wanda bit her lip, working on her own clothes without magic, so that you could hear the motions. It brought a shiver to watch you squirm gently, swallowing dry as if you could picture her naked. And your pleading sigh, practically meowing her name, made Wanda lose her mind.

Now wearing only her underwear, she grabbed your face again and kissed you with everything she had - teeth and tongue - and swallowed every throaty moan until she needed to breathe again. When she pulled away, a line of saliva connected your lips.

"We need a system, darling..." She murmured, her fingers working to open the belt loop of your sweatpants. "You know the color one? Green for go, and red for stop?"

"Y-yes, Wanda, please, just keep going-" She interrupted with a kiss mixed with a giggle at your desperate response, the hands that had opened your pants helping you to the bed, laying you down. The magical chains had adapted, and your hands were attached to the headboard now, holding you open for Wanda. Your arousal grew so intense that Wanda could see your muscles twitching.

She sighed contentedly as she sat on your hips, watching your curious and expectant movements. Magic did the work of removing your pants, but Wanda was taking her time teasing your skin under your blouse, having the best time in the world watching you squirm and gasp.

"Tell me what you want."

You swallowed dryly, forcing your voice out: "Anything you want to give me."

Wanda bit back a giggle, her fingers tracing your torso. "Good answer, darling." She sighs, and in one tug, rips off your shirt. The remaining pieces are swept away as you try to keep your breathing under control. Wanda adjusts herself and sits on your stomach, her wetness and warmth against your skin making you wince. "I have an idea, you let me use you and I might consider letting you touch me, what do you think?"

"Fuck." You moan, and Wanda can't let that one slide, though the slap on your cheek is light, and much more of a teasing warning than a punishment. It makes you throb inside.

"Language." She warns, and you sigh.

"I'm sorry."

Wanda strokes the soft red on your cheek, leaning in in a way that makes her wetness slide down your abdomen. The involuntary contraction of your muscles draws a gasp from both of you.

"Behave yourself." She warns, and it seems to be as much about the language as your slight movements, and although you nod, you repeat the gesture. Wanda gasps and grips your cheeks tightly. But you force your body upwards, and her grip loosens as she begins to grind against your stomach, giving in to the sensation.

It brings some kind of pride to know that she's just as affected by this as you are, but even as she's drenching your skin with her hot pleasure, Wanda lowers herself to wrap her hands around your throat and as she uses your tense abdomen to reach her own orgasm, her grip warns you who's in charge. She doesn't take long to come - all the teasing outside has gotten under her skin - and it's the hottest thing that's ever occurred to you, even if you can't see it.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck." She gasps through the last waves of her orgasm, her hips thrusting hard into you, who pants beneath her. Her juices run down your belly and you squirm impatiently.

"Please, Wanda. Let me touch you." You beg breathlessly, but she kisses you hungrily, her hands going down to your waist. At first, you think she's going to give you what you want, but Wanda gropes you in an unusual way, and you hear her magic before you feel a new volume between your legs. It takes you by surprise, the enchanted item and your tense body makes Wanda break the kiss.

With her forehead pressed against yours, she asks: "Red or green, darling?" As if to encourage an answer, Wanda grabs the conjured fake cock in her hand. It's really enchanted because you feel everything and the pleasure of the moment's stimulation brings a gasp. You move your hips, in the same direction as her without realizing what you're doing, and Wanda giggles. "I still need words."

"Fuck, green, yes." You moan and Wanda gives you a warning bite on the lips for cursing, but your head is spinning with pleasure from the movements that continue between the two of you.

Toys are nothing new - but a magic strap-on that you can feel as an extension of you certainly is. And Wanda seems willing to drive you to the brink of insanity when she simply adjusts the toy at her entrance and sinks in all at once.

You whimper, almost coming at once. She rocks gently against your lap without caring.

It's hard to breathe, especially when Wanda picks up speed and practically jumps on your cock, her warm walls clenching around you, trying to stop you from pulling out. Everything is too hot and just when you're ready to come, Wanda grabs your throat.

"Hold it." It's an order, almost impossible to obey when she rides your lap with such determination. You choke, struggling against the chains, the hot knot in your belly begging to break.

You almost sob. "I-I can't... please-"

She lets out a wicked giggle and doesn't stop moving. "Don't worry, babe, you're not coming. No matter how much you want to."

Wanda moans, and suddenly her movements stop. She groans heavily, gets impossibly tight and you think you're going to come, but something holds you back. Almost like a force of strength, and when Wanda falls limp against you, and her body continues to tremble from the intensity of the orgasm in contrast to yours, burning with more frustration, you understand what she's done.

"Wanda, what the fuck?" you gasped in a mixture of disbelief and irritation. And instead of losing her temper, she giggles mischievously at you.

"That's why you don't deserve to cum, baby. You're a foul-mouthed brat." She bites your jaw as she sits up, and you gasp, feeling her clench around you. "You're not coming until you improve this attitude."

She thrusts into you as a warning and although you feel as if you could come, your body simply won't obey. Because of the blindfold, you can't see her red irises either.

"You're so mean, Wanda." You groan, sighing at the sensation of her pulling out.

"Oh, darling, we have barely started."

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #elizabeth olsen x reader #kinktober 2023 #wanda maximoff oneshots

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eddiesxangel · 7 months ago

Text

Downhearted | E.M

Cw: reader with bad mental health (depression/anxiety), bestfriend!Eddie x fem!reader, hurt/comfort, smut 18+ Eddie takes care of reader.

2.4k (this was suppose to be a blurb… oops)

Recently, you have been feeling very low, and despite your best efforts, you are struggling to get back to your usual self. However, your best friend Eddie has not given up on you. He has been by your side, trying to uplift your mood and bring back your smile, but nothing seems to work. Eddie has tried everything in his power to help you, from taking you out for lunch to watching funny movies together, but once you are on your own, everything seems to be crashing down on you even harder.

Your friend is worried about you and wants to see you happy again. He understands how challenging it is to deal with mental health issues and how it can affect your life. That's why he has come up with a last-ditch plan to lift your spirits and make you feel better. He hopes that this plan will work and bring a smile to your face once again.

To make things worse, you have been distancing yourself from your friends for weeks now, and you feel terrible about it. You feel like you're letting them down, especially Eddie, who has been there for you through thick and thin. He has come over at least three times a week since your mental health started to deteriorate again, and he has never given up on you.

This isn't the first time your mental health has plummeted, but this time, it's worse than ever before. You don't even have the energy to try and get better, and you feel like everything is falling apart around you. However, Eddie's unwavering support and his last-ditch plan to lift your spirits give you hope that things will get better soon.

Living alone didn’t help. You would go days without talking to someone, and that only made things worse. So Eddie made it his mission to be there for you. You’ve always been there for him; it’s the least he can do.

You haven’t left your bed today or all week. You’ve been on your phone all day but not really doing anything; you’re numb. Not even videos of kittens could make you feel anything.

You’ve been ignoring Eddie's pleas to help you. Text after text, his contact would pop up, but you paid no mind. So when you hear the knock on your door, you groan, knowing it’s him. You want to do anything but get up, but how could you leave your best friend standing out there? The thought made you sick to your stomach. You don’t deserve him. He’s too good to you, and all you do is bring him down with you.

As you sniffle back your tears and your inner demons, you wrap yourself in your blanket and pad your way slowly to the door.

You open it, and Eddie’s smile falls when he sees you. You haven’t looked at yourself in over a week, and you also haven’t showered in over a week. As Eddie takes in your state, a small, heartbroken “sweetheart” leaves his lips.

He felt so guilty for not being able to visit you last week. He’d been working doubles and was exhausted. Today was his first day off in six days, and he was so excited to spend time with you.

Your vision blurs as you see Eddie standing there with a bag of groceries with food, actual nutrition that you've been depriving yourself of, only aiding your demons.

He drops the bag and wraps his arms around your frail frame, and you break.

“I don’t know what's wrong with me?” Your voice cracks. You can’t remember the last time you spoke words aloud.

Your breath is shaky, and you tremble as you feel Eddie’s strong arms wrapped around you.

His familiar smell only calms you a little, but you’re so exhausted you can no longer hold it together.

He coos you and strokes your greasy hair, not caring how dirty it feels. He understands, he knows.

“Come, let’s get you feeling a little better, ok?”

“I can’t,” your voice shakes.

“Yes, I’ll be right here to help, okay?” He cups your face, gently forcing you to look into his eyes.

He walks you to the kitchen table, and he begs you to drink some water and eat the sandwich he brought over for you.

While you eat, you see Eddie unpack the groceries and then go to your room. A few minutes later, he comes out to throw your sheets in the washer and pulls a fresh pair from your linen closet.

You finish eating as much as you can when Eddie returns from making your bed.

Eddie coerced you to the bathroom. He helps you brush your teeth and convinces you to shower, not daring to joke about how you smell. You say you will as long as he stays in there with you.

Washing yourself was too much to do on your own. So he stood on the other side of the curtain, and you just stood there under the hot water, unable to move.

“Sweetheart? You doing okay?”

Your tears are camouflaged, but your gasps aren’t.

“N-no”

“Do… do you want me to help?” He cringes.

You don’t answer, and it worries Eddie. Had he overstepped? You were naked behind the thin material separating you.

Eddie waits for a few more beats; his heart is pounding. But he releases his breath when he sees your hand push the curtain aside to invite him in.

Nothing would be able to prepare him for the sight before his eyes. You had already started but didn’t get far; some soap suds had already been spread across your chest.

He tried hard to ignore how the blood flow immediately started flowing south. This was not the time to get a boner.

You watched how Eddie removed his shirt and pants in a daze. He kept on his boxers, but you could see the small tent forming.

You didn’t even care that you were naked in front of your best friend because you felt nothing.

You just wanted to feel something.

Eddie stepped in with you and pulled the shower curtain closed. It was so intimate; you and Eddie hadn’t been this close in this way before. But you trusted one another, and there was no awkwardness or hesitation once Eddie squeezed the shampoo in his hands and started.

I felt Eddie’s fingers massage your scalp, and it was nice. The last time someone took care of you like this was when you were a child when you were not old enough to do it yourself.

Eddie ensured that everything was rinsed properly, and then he moved on to the conditioner. He made sure to saturate all your hair before he took the loofa and your body wash.

Now this, was where Eddie got a little nervous. He didn’t want to overstep.

As you stood there, almost catatonic, he lifted your arms to get your armpits, then he ran the soap down your arms, across your back and down your legs, avoiding your more intimate areas.

“You think you can help me out, sweetheart?”

You slowly nod your head, and he passes you the saturated loofa.

Eddie watches as you run it across your chest, lifting a breast to get underneath. Eddie tries not to, but he can’t help but feel aroused. He tries to push it away, but the last thing he wants is to make you uncomfortable.

He knows you trust him; you’re asking him to help you in your darkest hour.

He shifts, trying to avoid your gaze; it’s only making things harder. Literally.

He pushes away those thoughts and makes sure you’re fully rinsed off. He turns off the water for you and goes to get your towel. He’s soaked, but he doesn’t care; your wellbeing will come first, even if he’s sprouting goosebumps along his flesh.

He takes your hand to guide you out of the tub. You feel slightly better, but it’s not enough.

When a thought pops into your head, you don’t care if it’s stupid, so you act on it without giving it any more thought.

You reach out and graze your hand over Eddie’s soaked boxers. They are taught to his skin, not hide anything, and you can see he’s ready and willing to go.

He steps back at the sudden touch.

“Please, Eddie, I need to feel something, anything. I don’t know what else to do” you sobbed.

As you stand there, feeling lost and alone, Eddie's embrace envelops you, pulling you in closer. In this moment, you know that you are not alone and that your friend is there to support you through thick and thin. Eddie's hug is so tight; he needs you to know that he would let nothing in the world hurt you. You close your eyes and breathe in deeply, grateful for your friend's unwavering support.

“Shhhhhh y/n, it’s okay. I have you.” He wraps the fluffy bath towel around your body, keeping you warm.

“Please Eddie”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes. I won’t let this change anything between us, I swear.”

“Okay, sweetheart. Okay,” he didn’t know if this was a good idea, but he had to do something to make you feel better; he would do anything for you; he would get the moon for you if there was a way. So he will do this for you.

He surprises you by lifting you up bridal style and carrying you to the bedroom. He's much stronger than you thought as he gently placed you down on your fresh sheets.

“Tell me if you want to stop, okay?”

“I promise, Eddie.” You nod.

Slowly, Eddie leans down to kiss you gently. The mint toothpaste still lingers on your breath. His lips feel so soft; it’s nice to be kissed.it's nice to be kissed by Eddie.

You feel his lips detach from yours, moving across your cheek and lowering your neck. The water from his hair trickled into your skin, making you shiver.

Eddie wanted to know your body, what made you tick, what made you moan, what made you needy with desire. He focused on the side of your neck and was proud when he found a spot that made you whimper.

“That okay, sweetheart?”

“Mmhmmm”

He could feel your chest rise and fall with heavy breaths. He could see he was getting you worked up the way you needed.

His timid fingers spread your legs wider so he could feel you and to Eddie’s surprise, you were still dry. He thought he would feel your slick as he slowly rubbed your pussy, but it wasn’t there.

“I uh- um. I don’t think you’re enjoying this.” he sits back, a bit defeated. This hasn’t happened to him before.

“It’s not you, Eddie; it’s me. I-I want to... You’re doing good; it’s just that sometimes girls need help if they’re like… this…”

“Oh,” Eddie understands, you're still in your head,” Eddie understands, you.

“I have lube and condoms in the nightstand”

Eddie reaches over you to grab it. The crack of the hard plastic lid is so loud in the silent room that you flinch a little.

“Sorry”

“It’s okay,” you whisper. Suddenly you’re very aware you’re naked in front of your best friend, but that is brushed to the side when you feel his slippery fingers make contact with your pussy once again.

“Ohhhh,” you breathe in.

Eddie smirks and leans in to kiss you once again. You feel his tongue slick its way past your lips; who knew he was such a good kisser.

Slowly, minute by minute, you’re actually feeling something—pleasure. Eddie brings you back to life with each touch, brush, and kiss.

“Eddie,” you moan as his fingers slip inside you.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“More,” you pant.

You don’t have to tell him twice. He will do anything to make you feel better, which seems to be working. He rips open the condom, and you surprise him by reaching up to cup his balls. He gasps, and a smirk spreads across your face for the first time in weeks.

“I knew there was a little freak you were hiding from me.” Eddie laughs, and he pulls one out of you as well. His heart swells when he hears the sound leave your lips.

“There’s my girl,” so much relief is behind his eyes.

“Hi, Eddie.” You look up at him like he’s given you all the stars in the sky.

“You still want to do this?”

“Yes.”

“Okay,” he brushes your wet hair behind your ear and softly kisses you. It becomes needy quickly, and desperation takes over both of you.

It didn’t matter that you were only best friends, that you weren’t okay, that he was in just as much pain as you were. All that mattered was one another, two physical entities in your own little world. Your mind was completely erased; for a moment, you finally forgot everything weighing down on you.

Eddie continues to kiss you as he guides himself in slowly. You can’t help but take a deep breath as he pushes his way in.

As Eddie entered you, you melted into his touch. Nothing could have made you feel this good. He was consuming every inch of your being. With every brush, every thrust, every nip, kiss and bite, you were coming alive again.

Eddie’s hands travel all along your body, squeezing your breasts, tweaking your nipples, making you twitch and grind up into Eddie’s touch. Your hips are ungulate with his, and your moments become one as you and Eddie perform the perfect dance.

The past picks up faster and faster. Eddie brushes the spot inside you every single time, and you’re crying out his name.

Eddie can’t believe he’s making you feel this good, this wanted. His beautiful best friend was here helping you, holding you, and doing this for you.

“Eddie, please”

“Let go, baby”

The pet name accidentally slipped past his lips and didn’t go unnoticed. It only aided your orgasm to come that much quicker.

A wave of pleasure crashed over you as it washed through your whole body without warning.

Eddie watched as he was the one who made your body quiver, to make your eyes roll back, to have you silently screaming for him. He couldn’t hold on anymore, either. Your cunt clamped down so tightly on his cock he shook as he spilled into the condom.

His sweaty body collapses on you, and the only thing you can hear is your erratic breaths.

“Thank you, Eddie,” you sniffle, and Eddie quickly pops his head up because you’re crying once again.

“Baby, please don’t cry. I can’t take it anymore.” he holds your face, wiping away your tears with his thumbs.

“No, it's- it's happy tears; you helped me feel something. I thought I was broken. Thank you, Teddie.”

“I’ll always be here for you; I love you, sweetheart."

You didn’t care if he only meant platonically or romantically; he was your person forever and always.

“I love you too.”

Tagging some mooties!: @nailbatanddungeon @taintedcigs @hellfirenacht @littlexdeaths @andvys @rebelfell @xxbimbobunnyxx @rowanswriting @voyeurmunson @asimpforthe80s @mmunson86 @slutty-thevampireslayer @strangerstilinski

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #Eddie Munson x depressed reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x best friend reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson comfort #eddie munson angst #bestfriend!eddie munson #modern!eddie munson #modern!eddie x reader

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butterymangowrites · 5 months ago

Text

distribution system

paring: cat hybrid kageyama tobio x fem reader

warnings: dub-con, smut, hybrid au, stray hybrid kageyama, social discrimination, power imbalance, domestic life, kageyama with his platinum face card, kageyama has a tail

word count: 4.2k

english is not my first language. please excuse any mistakes. thank you for reading!

Being a stray hybrid was exhausting. Tobio thought as he wandered around a new neighborhood trying to find food after every house in the last one shooed him away.

Being a stray hybrid was exhausting. Being a bone-thin, dirty black cat hybrid was worse.

He looked ghastly—hair long to his chest, cheeks all sunken, and without a smile on his face, Tobio looked unapproachable. Some people said he might have rabies, warning their own hybrids to stay away; he was scared of that, too, but only because he didn’t know what it actually was, just that it was fatal and humans hated it.

Did he have rabies? He felt fine though. Tobio thought as he put his hand through the narrow opening of a trash can that was likely to have some food waste in there. After some time rummaging through, he grabbed onto a bottle; it was milk. When he shook it softly and felt some milk left inside, Tobio got his dinner.

“You shouldn’t drink that. You will get sick.”

A voice interrupted when he was almost done with the meal. It was a human woman in very nice clothing, the kind he saw humans in the office area wear. His previous owner also wore something like this, the male one, the one who hit him when he was drunk and angry at his wife. The wife was his favorite of the two, always patted him gently on the head and gave him nice things—snacks, toys, letting him watch TV and play with a round leather ball in their small backyard. But when he knocked over some of the flower pots, the husband forbade him from touching the ball again.

The wife disappeared one day, so Tobio ran away.

“Here.” The human took something out of her shoulder bag and handed it to him. “Take this.”

It was an unopened, brand new milk bottle, looking exactly the same as the one he was holding. Too late, Tobio drank all of it, spoiled as it was, it filled his belly for the night. Together with the milk, Tobio saw a banana. He wanted that.

“Sorry, this is all I have.”

It was funny thinking back to the first time he saw you, that it was the guilt in your voice that made Tobio carefully look past his long hair at you again. Being closer in order to take the food from your hand and seeing things clearer than before, he had never seen anyone so concerned about how they didn’t have more food to give away, concerned about him. And because being a stray hybrid was exhausting, Tobio really wanted a home.

He finally succeeded that night. He found one, after roaming around for many years…

—

High up on a building, that was your place. It wasn’t big, but Tobio didn’t mind. He was just happy to be warm and have a roof over his head.

Your bathroom had a tub, small but deep, he could only fit in there if he sat with his knees up. He did that while he let you wash him, at a loss on how to adjust the water temperature and not knowing which was the shampoo and which was for the body cleaning. So he just sat there in silence, not even turning the water on so he didn’t cause any problems, till you knocked and asked if he needed help.

Your hands were smooth, slathering the body wash over his back and chest while he watched you, his now-clean hair tied up with a big claw clip. Having his field of vision expanded made Tobio feel exposed, but it was not totally a bad feeling, just a bit foreign after many years of having it down to hide his face.

“You wash,” you pointed down to his crotch, “down there by yourself, okay?”

Tobio nodded, didn’t mind. He understood you didn’t want to touch him there, you probably didn’t want to touch him anywhere, only doing it out of necessity because he was such an incompetent cat who didn’t know how to use a human's shower. He used to know, he just forgot. Tobio hoped you were not mad.

—

It was the next day when you took him to the hybrid clinic for a check-up. He was healthy, needed to put on some weight, yes, but fine nonetheless. The doctor said the hybrid was in his early 20s and prescribed some vitamins, and just like that, the visit ended. Before you left, one of the staff suggested you buy a collar.

“Is it necessary?” you asked before looking around the waiting area and saw that every hybrid wore one. “Okay.”

You bought one in a random color after trying to let the feline hybrid choose and he just stared at you. He was tall, hovering over most people in the clinic. You had to tell him to crouch down so you could put the newly purchased collar on his neck. It was blue, cartoon printed. This was why making rational decisions was important.

Next stop was the haircut. This time you handed him a magazine and tried again by letting him pick a style for himself; however, he just pointed at the first model he saw. Nothing was wrong with a mohawk, and you would have believed it was a thought-through decision if he had turned the pages of the magazine a little and at least pretended to contemplate. He did neither.

Same with the breakfast that morning, you asked if he wanted blueberry or strawberry jam on his toast, he answered with a nod. When asked again, he pointed at the jar closest to his hand and didn’t finish the toast.

The stray you brought home—Tobio—definitely understood human language and was not mute since he was the one whispering his name to you when you asked what he was called. For some reason, he just did not make decisions. And… he hated strawberry jam.

So you rectified that, selecting two most popular styles and let him choose again. But before he could point, you said, “This is your hair, Tobio. Yours. You can choose how you want your own hair to look.”

He listened and blinked. And for the first time in twenty hours, Tobio took his time deciding between things. He picked the style that would get his bangs cut very short, and if his swishing tail was anything to go by, he seemed to like the end result very much. Despite his head looking like a coconut with a wig on, he still looked good, all because of his face.

The man was strikingly handsome. Without all the matted hair masking his face, his features were bare to the beholder’s eye. Dark blue eyes, sharp jawline, small perky nose, and lips—though chapped and dry—were baby pink. He was a sight for sore eyes.

Clothes, toiletries, and extra groceries that included cat food and snacks he admitted to liking were all carried by him. It was a long walk from place to place and from the train station to yours, but Tobio didn’t allow you to take any bag out of his hands.

It was already dark when you entered your apartment. You unpacked the groceries and officially taught him how to use the shower, learning that he was illiterate when he asked if he remembered correctly which bottle was the shampoo and which was the conditioner. He got them mixed up but was right on the body wash because it was a different brand with a different label.

What you did was point out the difference in the words written on the bottles, but the easiest way you could think of was to place them in fixed positions, so you did just that, temporarily resolving the problem.

“Shampoo on your left, conditioner on your right,” you told him, pointing at each respectively. “But don’t wash your hair today, that would be a waste of the products the salon put on it. Unless it—stinks?”

Tobio, who was sitting on the rim of the tub, touched his hair, trying to pull it to his nose for a sniff, but it was too short. Suddenly, he turned to look at you, expectation clear in his eyes.

“You smell for me.” he bowed his head and waited.

“Oh, no need.” You waved your hands no. “Should be okay.”

You were not going to do it, but his head stayed down and showed no sign of coming back up. Not wanting to disappoint him, you stooped down for a quick sniff. The tip of your nose brushed against his freshly cut hair, it was soft and silky now, no trace of yesterday's dirt and grime. And it smelled so good you could have died.

Tobio breathed out a low purr before he looked up at you again, his pupils dilated. “How was it?”

“Nice,” you replied. “No need to wash it.”

“Okay.” His voice was small, faint.

Out of the bathroom, you prepared dinner for two and arranged a sleeping spot at the couch in the living room as you did the night before. Your apartment was a one-bedroom, so even if you wanted him to sleep somewhere nicer, you didn’t have a better option.

You didn’t expect to see him lying on the cold, hard floor the next morning, sleeping in the fetal position and hugging himself, pillow and blanket left on the couch.

“Why were you on the floor?” you asked that same morning while teaching him how to make basic breakfast—a bowl of cereal for you and two slices of toast for himself, this time topped with blueberry jam. He ended up asking for more with a growling belly and round blue eyes, piercing through your heart like a sharp stalactite falling down on tender meat. The damage was so severe that you had to tell him not to seek permission for food again; it was all his to have.

“My legs are too long.” answered Tobio. “They went over the couch arm—hurt.”

And the cushions were probably too small for him to sleep with legs folded. Decision instantly made, you let him sleep with you on the bed from then on.

—

It was nice not having to go about people’s houses searching for food and sleep at the train station when it rained. Tobio looked out the bedroom window, sitting on the floor with his head under the curtains, his tail flicking slowly as he watched the wet street below and couldn’t help but feel grateful for the human sleeping on the bed.

It had been one hundred and twenty two days since he had been here.

The bed was springy; it rocked a little when he climbed back on no matter how careful he tried to be, making you stir but overall still pretty much in your deep slumber. He settled on his side, laying his head on the same pillow as you. If he were to pull you to his chest, no one would see you again. Tobio was so big now with a tremendous amount of food consumed daily.

So much money was spent on him just to put skin, fat, and muscles on his bones, and you never once complained about the increasing expenses. He knew numbers now, and he saw them on the bills each time and noticed that you spent less on yourself. You had never gotten the blouse you said you wanted, and you ate half sometimes just to keep the leftover for the next day. He wished he could do more than just helping around with the household chores.

“Thank you,” whispered Tobio.

He wanted so much to cuddle up to you, sink his little fangs into your skin, and touch you in the way that would get him cute noises as a reward. He liked being close to you, finding himself awake nose to nose with you more often than not and using the time before you woke to count your eyelashes. You didn’t like any of that, always pushing yourself away and hurrying up to get off the bed.

Pouting, pouting, all he did when that happened was pout. But in his sleep, instinct took over nevertheless, he would find himself clinging to you anyway come morning, and he would pout, pout and pout…

—

This was why you never considered adopting a hybrid before you found Tobio that night. You didn’t want to feel like a scum excuse of a human being, getting so wet that you heard the squelching sound when Tobio pumped his fingers in and out of you, deep, nudging your front wall now and again, making you squirm.

You know what many hybrids were adopted and bought for, and you didn’t want to be one of those using them for sexual pleasure, letting him help around the house was bad enough. He didn’t ask to be here, you offered. What he was doing now might just mean he got the wrong idea about what he was here for.

“Tobio, no.”

“I’m so hard. It hurts.”

He propped himself up on one of his elbows, pouting while he watched his hand’s movement under your pajama shorts. “Please help.”

“Tobio, we need to talk.”

There was no talk, Tobio flipped you to lie flat on his body, his hands tugging your shorts and underwear down before doing the same with his. When your bare core touched his, the cat hybrid moaned loudly and rubbed you frantically against his cock.

It had never come this far, small touches here and there but never this.

“I—don’t want—,” you gasped, “to use you.”

“Please use me. Please use me. Use me.” He pouted more, tears welling in his eyes.

Damn those eyes to hell though you were certain Tobio himself belonged in heaven. It was these same orbs that had you ask if he wanted to come home with you, earning yourself the sweetest companion one could ever ask for.

Coming home to see the apartment cleaned, plants watered, laundry done, nothing was left to be done but dinner because he was scared he would burn the kitchen down because there was fire involved. He was getting better at it now, you feared cooking for you might be next in his plan. Power imbalance hung in the air, but Tobio had no clue.

“You’re not here for this.” You tried to say, turning away from his lips that grazed all over your face, trying to get to your mouth. “You are my friend.”

“I’m yours.”

“My—friend.”

“Umm, yours.” he purred, so cat-like. “You own me.”

Why did he only listen to what he wanted to hear? Not just yours, but your friend, that was what you were trying to convey.

“You are not a thing to be owned.”

For some reason, his eyes darkened. “Don’t be too good to me.”

Next thing you knew, you were on all fours, ass up, face down, hands in his grip behind your back. His hot shaft spread your wetness to your clit before fooling around with your entrance.

“Don’t—”

“Must be warm in there. Wetter, too.” the hybrid whined, claws sharpened, penetrating the skin of your hands. “Please let me get in, please please.”

“Tobio, don’t be bad.” That was the first time you reprimanded him, and you felt him freeze. “You’re not a thing to be used, you hear me?”

“But I’m a pet, your pet.”

“You’re not just an animal to me.”

“But that’s what I am.”

“You’re half human.”

“You don’t understand.” His mouth was next to your ear when he said it. “I am more animal than human, all hybrids are.”

Following his statement was the tip of his cock threatening to push in, you had to cry out his name again to stop the deed.

“Please. Just one dip,” he begged. “One dip and out.”

He was so stubborn, you had never seen this side of him before, literally nonplussed as to how to handle the persistence, the negotiation, and his pitiful cries. He had never been like this, even when you told him his favorite milk was out of stock, all he did was nod and say he was happy with whatever you had.

“Just once.” You choked out the words. “Only one dip and you’re out. You let me go, okay?”

You made a deal.

“Okay.”

The head was not the problem, the thick body and base were, stretching you to the point of pain. You heard a low growl rumble in his chest as he went deep to the hilt and lingered there.

“Thank you for taking care of me,” he said, tremblingly. “Please don’t be mad.”

You couldn’t imagine being mad at Tobio, not even when he didn’t keep his word, pulling himself out and slamming back into you. Again and again he went, pulling at your wrists with each thrust for leverage. Your upper body was lifted from the bed from how hard he pulled, head lolling from side to side.

“Please don’t put me back on the streets.” He bottomed out with a cry. “Keep me, keep me.”

The wanton scream you let out was embarrassing, your pussy throbbed and clenched around his cock as he pounded on the right spot. And Tobio was a quick learner, he hammered down on it repeatedly, fucking you into the mattress until you came with a shudder, eyes rolled to the back of your head; you were glad he didn’t have to see that from where he was.

He shot out a lot of cum when he came, filling you up to the brim. One dip and out? Sure. The thing was, you weren't even mad at him. His clear blueberry eyes trained on you after he rolled you onto your back, tilting his head to one side before he bent down to give a kitten lick at your mouth.

No, you weren’t mad at Tobio, you were mad at yourself for giving in.

—

The leather ball he used to play with was for a sport called volleyball. Tobio saw it on TV one day and immediately pointed at it with excitement. So being a good owner as you were—allowing him to fuck and hold you close after each night, albeit not without some begging and whining first—you took him out to an open gym to play with other hybrids.

Him having to wear a collar when going out bothered you, and when it strained his neck while he was out on the court looking up at the ball, you told him to take it off.

“Why?” Tobio asked. Every hybrid in the gym had it on, he didn’t want to be different.

“It’s too tight on your neck.”

“It’s fine.”

A round of laughter erupted from the nearby court when a rabbit hybrid fell on her face trying to get the ball. It was from the humans who sat and watched the play, one in particular seemed concerned—perhaps her owner—seeing as he stood up and told her to get back on her feet.

“You just don’t get it.” you shook your head feebly and walked out the court back to your seat which was just a chair situated not far off the sideline. But as an afterthought, you turned around and said, “Just loosen it a bit, yeah?”

“Okay.”

You seemed to dislike the idea of him being an animal, but at the end of the day, he was. He loved watching birds from the window and making noises at them. He loved sleeping, and when he woke, after exerting himself with the chores until the energy ran out, it was nice to curl up on the couch for a nap.

It was not him who didn’t get it, it was you. Tobio liked being an animal.

So when your boss, who was one of the owners of the hybrid who played volleyball with him, approached and broached the idea of getting him on a cat food commercial you and he were working on, Tobio wanted in, even more interested when the older man said this would earn you extra money to take home after the shoot ended.

“See? Tobio wants to.” The boss gestured his hands at him.

“But—”

“Yes,” Tobio said, earnestly.

“Let’s talk about the shooting date together with the team on Monday.”

The deal was sealed.

—

The shoot was stressful for you, seeing people coo at how cute Tobio looked in faux cat ears, some even dared coming close to scratch under his chin. Tobio liked the attention, but he didn’t like strangers touching him. He would look for you, asking for help with his impossible-to-deny eyes whenever that happened, and you would come to the rescue.

“Aren’t cat hybrids supposed to keep to themselves?” you asked, walking ahead of him, just about five minutes more until you reached home. “How come you like people so much?”

“Not all the time.” Tobio replied. “I just happened to like them today.”

“Doesn’t it bother you,” You stopped walking and turned to face him. “being treated like that?”

“Like what?”

“They played with you with a laser pointer, Tobio. Trying to grab your tail, calling you names.” You held on to your shoulder bag as you spoke. “They didn’t respect you at all.”

“I’m an animal.”

“This again?”

“You have to accept that I am one and there is nothing wrong with it.”

There was no anger in this voice, never with Tobio, only dull sadness that dimmed his usual bright eyes down a notch.

“But you don’t agree, do you? That’s why you’re trying to change me.”

“You missed the point.”

“And what was it?”

When you didn’t respond instantly, he continued, “I like wearing a collar because it shows people I’m taken, taken by you, not a stray no one wants. I like that you own me.”

“Oh Tobio—”

“Is it wrong that I love doing the housework, that I don’t care that people want to give me treats and play laser pointer with me? I know what I am and how they see me. I’m an ani—”

“I don’t care that you’re an animal, a hybrid or whatever!” you interrupted with a soft shout. “I’m saying that no matter what you are, you deserve respect,” you said. “I don’t know what you experienced that made you think you can’t pick between strawberry and blueberry jam. And they can play laser pointer with you for all I care, but they should be aware that you have a life and mind of your own and not just assume they can do it without even asking. Just because you’re fine with it doesn’t make it okay.”

You paused to breathe.

“And trust me those people—those people in the studio, they don’t—they don’t understand this, yet.” You closed your eyes. “After the shoot, one of them asked me if they could buy you.”

Opening your eyes again, he was so close you had to tilt your head back to look at him.

“I don’t want to hear anyone say that about you ever again.”

His kiss didn’t take you by surprise. His tongue was welcome, and his moan was your guest. Tobio held your hand all the way home and didn’t let go even when the apartment door closed behind you and him, instead, he kissed you against it. Then from your mouth, he headed downwards.

“I thought I disgusted you.” he said, nipping at the soft flesh of the thigh he put on his shoulder.

“That is crazy. Ouch! Tobio, your claws.”

It had been almost a year already since Tobio moved in, and with his typical cat behavior, your body was full of scratches, some faded, some didn’t. He had a second haircut just two months ago, the same style with his bangs cut short, resembling a coconut for a while until it grew out past the stage, and now it was just in the right length—perfect for a grab.

He liked when you played with his hair, loved it when you pulled hard during sex. For someone who was soft spoken and had a hobby of watching birds and playing volleyball, Tobio was surprisingly perverted when it came to fucking.

The man purred loudly when he got the taste of your soaking folds, lapping greedily at the core and dragging his wet tongue up your inner thighs, collecting every drop like it was essential for his being.

When your hands remained by your sides, taking action too slow for his liking, Tobio searched blindly without pulling his face away from your nectar and grabbed one of them to put on his head. Automatically, you gripped a handful, hearing him groan with relief and satisfaction.

“So good to me.” he mumbled, his thumb leisurely circling your clit. “I like you more than anything.”

More than the milk you gave him that first night, or the banana, even the blueberry jam could not compare to you. And despite him not being brave enough to make a choice of his own haircut, he did make a choice in that moment he followed you home—he chose you.

#kageyama tobio x reader #kageyama tobio x you #kageyama tobio #kageyama x reader #tobio x reader #haikyu fanfiction #haikyu x reader #haikyuu smut #haikyu #haikyu!!#haikyuu x reader #kageyama tobio smut #tobio kageyama smut #tobio kageyama x reader #cat hybrid kageyama tobio #tw.dubcon #hybrid!au #haikyuu hybrid #hybrid!kageyama

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midnightmusings06 · 4 months ago

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May I request some fluff of SDV bachelors (Harvey, Seb, Shane) with a farmer who’s sick, overworked, or just generally needs to take a break?

Hi there! This is such a cute fluff prompt I’m happy to write! What I did was I took each bachelor and matched them up with one of the prompts you gave me as follows:

Sebastian taking care of sick reader

Shane taking care of farmer that needs a break

Harvey taking care of overworked farmer

Thank you for your patience too! I’m in the middle of moving and things have been crazy lol

Sebastian:

The morning sun streamed through the bedroom window, blinding your eyes as you started to wake from a long night’s rest. You’d been so exhausted, spending all day outside on your snowy farm to prepare for spring’s arrival, and with it the planting of crops and trees. It soon became evident you’d stayed out a little too long without enough layers, as a telltale sharp pain stung your throat while drinking a glass of lukewarm water. Your nose felt stuffy, making it hard to breathe, and it felt as though your body was creaking from your every movement, aching and shaking while simultaneously sweating buckets. Groaning, you pushed yourself out of bed, trying not to wake your husband. Sebastian was still sound asleep, lightly snoring with his arm across his bare chest.

While attempting to walk to the bathroom to find some medicine, your vision started growing blurry, swaying on your feet. Gripping the bathroom sink to steady yourself, you call out your husband’s name, before sinking to the floor.

“Y/n? Y/n! Hon are you okay? Let’s get you to bed.” Sebastian’s deep voice rings in your head, as you feel his big arms scooping you up into the air, placing you gently onto your shared bed. The lightheaded feeling begins to fade away, as Sebastian kneels by your side of the bed, holding your hand gently, worry and fear riddled in his face. You finally turn to look at him, smiling gently to attempt to ease his worries.

“Hi love,” Your voice comes out barely as a croak. “I think I spent a bit too much time outside yesterday.” You attempt to joke, to which Sebastian smiled.

“That seems pretty clear, dumbass,” He teased you.

“Why don’t I go make you some tea? I’ll make your favorite.”

“With extra honey?”

“Of course love.” He reluctantly lets go of your hand to head for the kitchen, returning with a steaming cup of hibiscus tea, with extra honey at your request.

The rest of your day is spent resting, much to your reluctance, Sebastian even threatened to tie you to the bed if you don’t comply. After digging for ingredients, he found all the materials to make you pumpkin soup, to soothe your throat he says.

“Warm fluids will help your throat, and take some of this medicine as well, I know it doesn’t taste good but it’ll make you feel better.”

After refusing, claiming, “it tastes like piss”, he spoon feeds you your medicine, laughing at your scrunched face in disgust.

“Come on it’s not funny! That stuff is disgusting.”

“How can I not laugh darling, you’re just so cute when you look like that.”

When Seb’s pumpkin soup is finished cooking, he’d spoon feed you that as well, this time for his own enjoyment. After your belly is full from medicine and hot soup, Seb crawled behind up you on your bed to wrap you in his arms.

“But you’ll get sick too!”

“I don’t care, my only priority is you right now. Now, rest well my love,” He whispers, fingers tangled in your hair.

Shane:

Your hastily scribbled notes lay sprawled in front of you, scattered across your desk, some even fallen to the floor. Plans for a new layout for the farm, new buildings to be put in place, fences and paths that needed replacing, ground to be tilled and crops to be planted. It felt as though there was so much to do and not enough time nor resources to do it, and spring was approaching ever closer by the day, as the snow began to melt and patches of dirt and grass began to peek through. You sighed, placing your head in your hands, a raging headache pounding against your skull. You didn’t even hear your front door creak open when you heard the sound of boots thumping into your home. Whipping your head around, you see your boyfriend, Shane, standing by the entrance of your room, a sad expression on his face.

“Babe, you look awful. What are you still doing up at this hour?”

Glancing over to your wall clock, it read 1:00 am. You groaned, turning back to him with a grimace.

“Gee thanks Shane. I’m just going over the new farm plans for the season.”

He walks closer, examining your many papers and notes strewn around your work area.

“Y/n, when was the last time you slept? And I mean really slept.”

You can’t seem to remember.

“I don’t know. What day even is it?” You muttered, eyes trained at the ground.

He bends to your level, lifting your chin with his fingers.

“Baby you need to go to sleep. And today is Friday to answer your question.”

Your eyes widen at your realization.

“We had a date planned tonight didn’t we? Oh my god I’m so sorry Shane, I didn’t mean to forget, I thought for sure it was tomorrow.”

Tears begin to brim in the corners of your eyes, and Shane wraps you in a big hug, placing his warm jacket around you.

“I couldn’t care less about that. It isn’t like you to forget stuff since you always seem so on top of everything, so I guessed something might have happened to you. But that’s not important now, have you eaten anything yet?”

The last thing you ate was some berries from your fridge you picked a few days prior, you’d made it your midnight snack the night before.

“No.”

“Then I’ll go make something for you, in the meantime you go get some pajamas on and sit in bed, I’ll bring it to you.”

“But what about-”

He shushes you.

“It can wait. Now please go rest before I have to drag you there myself.” He smiles, leaving for the kitchen.

Harvey:

You wiped your forehead with your dirt-ridden gloves, having finally finished the exhausting task of removing all of your summer crops to prepare for the impending fall season. The muscles and joints of your body seemed to creak and groan with every movement, soreness tainting every part of you as you winced to even walk. Pulling a crumpled piece of paper from your pocket, you inspect your list of tasks. There was still so much to be done and fall would be here in two days, the thought of it filling you with anxiety. Trudging towards the silo to harvest wheat, you heard the sound of footprints making their way towards you.

“Hey there love! I prepared you a healthy meal to give you strength while you work, it has - y/n are you alright? Y/n?”

He holds your lunch, his smile dimming as your knees finally give out from exhaustion, the last thing you see is his figure hovering above you, quickly assessing your state and vitals, his voice slowly fading out as he attempts to calm himself down and focus on caring for you.

When you awake, you’re lying in one of Harvey’s clinic beds, eyes blinded by the sheer brightness of the room. Thankfully, you aren’t hooked up to any of his fancy machines, and Harvey is sat by your right side, watching you intently. When he notices you stirring, he jolts upward, glasses tilted on his face.

“Y/n! Thank goodness you’re awake, how are you feeling?”

You shimmy yourself to sit up, your muscles sore but not as fatigued as before.

“Tired mostly, and a bit sore,” you pause.

“I’m sorry Harvey.”

He frowns a bit, “Please don’t be sorry. But I do want to know how you got to this point, if you’re willing to confide in me?”

He asks tentatively.

You nod, and explained your unending list of tasks, coupled with the hours of hard work you’ve put in. Harvey listens to you intently, nodding as you go.

“And then you came to bring me some food, and I just collapsed because I was so tired. There’s still so much to be done before fall and I only have two more days to get everything else finished-”

Harvey quickly cuts you off, “Leave it to me. I’m not the most adept at farm work but I believe I can perform an adequate enough job for now.”

He smiles, gently grabbing your hand to hold it clasped in his.

“Remember my love, I am always here for you. Whether to ease your worries or complete tasks for you. Never feel as though you are a burden by asking for help.”

Smiling back at him, he helps you up from your bed, escorting you back to your farm for some well deserved rest and care.

#stardew valley #sdv harvey #harvey x reader #sdv fluff #sdv x reader #sdv farmer #sdv shane #shane x farmer #stardew shane #sdv sebastian #sebastian x reader #stardew sebastian #sdv community #stardew valley x reader #stardew #stardew harvey

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atlabeth · 9 months ago

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Girl for one get that glass of water! andddd this is a loose request but I LOVE knight Luke and we just gotta see them have that cinderella live action ball scene like romantic dancing maybe the secret garden as well but either way we gotta see these gals at a ball! Have a great day you're an amazing writer!

under the moonlight

fic about the ball

pairing: knight!luke castellan x princess!reader

a/n: thank you so much for this request it is so fucking cute lmao. i changed it a bit to make it work with my vision (bc they wouldn’t really be able to dance at a ball) but the core is that they're dancing together!!! and it is much more intimate and personal lol. here is the cinderella scene that the ask mentioned (and that i took inspo from because it's a beautiful scene lol)

wc: 2.5k

warning(s): basically all fluff

as usual, a mix of hcs and traditional fic!

ALRIGHT LAST TIME WE LEFT OFF princess was dancing with princes during the ball and luke was sulking at his first ever ball accompanying you as a knight

and thankfully, that all goes okay.

You don’t get murdered, Luke only goes slightly insane, and you don’t fall head over heels for any royals.

All in all, a pretty alright night in retrospect.

But post-ball is rough on both of you.

You complain about how much your feet hurt from your heels and how uncomfortable your dress is and how your cheeks ache from smiling so much.

To your surprise, as Luke follows you down the halls, he laughs.

You stop in your tracks as you whirl around. “And what do you find so funny?”

“Nothing,” he says with a slight smile, almost private. “Just… good to be back with you, princess.”

A small smile of your own starts to creep on your lips. “It was only half the night, Luke.”

“And you have no idea how much I missed you,” he muses.

You just shake your head and continue walking. “You’re funny.”

(he’s not joking. he’s just going through it now that he’s not training 24/7 and actually has time to feel emotions again)

You finally get back to your room—thankfully, you got out of any post-ball events with any princes by citing exhaustion, and it’s very rude to demand more of an exhausted lady—and Luke shuts the door behind you as you sink into the edge of your bed.

“God,” you groan as you immediately peel your heels off, letting out a sigh of relief. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to those.”

“If it’s any help, you looked very regal out there,” Luke says.

“It is my duty,” you say as you smile inwardly. “You looked very knightly out there.”

“And that’s my duty,” he says in kind. He gets a chuckle out of you.

You begin to take everything off—you undo your hair from whatever elaborate style it was in, you strip your wrists and fingers bare of bracelets, bangles, and rings (though you leave a certain necklace on), you undo parts of your dress. When you take your nightgown from your chest and go behind your folding screen, Luke clears his throat.

“Princess,” Luke says, “do you want me to—?”

“You can stay,” you say. “I don’t mind.”

And Luke, idiot that he is, gets all in his head.

(Does she not want me to leave because she doesn’t even see me as someone who could like her like that???) (We’ve been friends for so long, does she just see me as an older brother???) (Does this mean she trusts me or sees me as like. a painting on the wall.) (what the fuck)

It’s not any of those, poor boy. it’s just that you feel more comfortable around him than anyone because you’ve been around each other for your entire life—he knows you better than anyone. What’s the harm in him being in the room when you’re separated by a folding screen anyway?

but Luke is dramatic and also so fucking insecure when it comes to your feelings for him lmao

and he has a reason to be i guess?? because at this point while he knows that he has feelings for you (hasn’t fully realized he’s in love) you haven’t realized your own. you just think you have a lingering childhood crush on Luke and it’ll go away as you get older and start being courted

(spoiler alert: it will not go away.)

so he gets all weird and silent, giving one word responses as you talk with him, and when you come out in your nightgown you immediately stare him down.

“Luke,” you said, “what’s wrong?”

He blinked, as if he wasn’t expecting you to say anything. “Nothing.”

“Luke,” you repeated. “Come on.”

“Nothing’s wrong,” he repeated as well.

You crossed your arms. “Don’t act like I don’t know every single thing about you.”

“If you do, then you should know that nothing is wrong,” he countered.

You stared at him for a moment more, then you held out your hand. “Dance with me, then.”

That actually seemed to throw him off guard as he frowned. “What?”

“Did you go deaf back there?” you joked. “I want you to dance with me.”

He managed a smile, though it was slightly awkward. It only made your smile grow. “I don’t dance, princess.”

“Which is why I’ll teach you,” you said with a nod. “I’ve had plenty of practice.”

“And I have none.” Luke gestured at his armor. “I’m not exactly suited for it, either.”

“You can take off your armor,” you said. “It’ll make it all much easier. And a lot quieter.”

“My job is to protect you, princess.” Luke laid his hand on the hilt of his sword. “I can’t exactly defend you if all the armor’s gone.”

You rolled your eyes good-naturedly. He really did worry too much. “Nothing’s going to happen here, Luke—not now. I’ll even let you keep your sword with you if it matters that much.”

He still didn’t seem sure. You inclined your head and took another step forward, still holding out your hand.

“I’ll count you through it all,” you promised. “And if you like, I can hum one of those orchestra tunes they played earlier tonight. And I promise it’ll make you feel better.”

“...Fine,” Luke relented, and he started undoing his armor. “But you don’t tell anyone about this.”

“Your secret is safe with me,” you remarked.

It took a fair amount of time for Luke to get his armor off, but it took just as long for you to get every layer of your ball gown off earlier—and besides, you had endless patience reserved especially for him. The toned forearms revealed as he rolled his sleeves up certainly helped.

“Are you ready?” you asked as you held out your hand again.

Luke took it uncertainly. “I feel as if I’m the one meant to be asking you that.”

“You can lead next time we train together,” you said with a smile. “For now, you’re in my domain.”

You put Luke’s hand on your waist and reached for his other one, adjusting until it was right, then you looked up at him. “Does that feel alright?”

His eyes were startlingly dark this close, surprisingly intense. He nodded.

“Good. I’m going to teach you a few basic steps so you can get used to it.”

Luke nodded again. You wondered why words seemed behind his grasp.

yeah girlie I wonder why

Luke is. not a great dancer

You’re not surprised, and you don’t say a single word about it as you teach him the basics. he spent his childhood swinging a sword around, and you spent yours learning etiquette and ballroom dances lol

He steps on your foot about ten times and apologizes like a freak every time, you just laugh and smile and tell him you’re fine. Sure, your slippers don’t provide much protection and Luke’s boots aren’t great against them but you honestly don’t even feel it. you’re too busy getting lost in his eyes lol

And for someone who spent two years training like an insane person, he gets frustrated very easily when things don’t go his way.

“How do you do this? It’s impossible.”

“I learned this dance when I was twelve, Luke.”

as much as you jest while you’re teaching him the basics you’re encouraging him the entire time because he’s your best friend above all else!!! and you honestly believe he can do anything lmao

And he’s a quick learner! He didn’t become the youngest kingsguard in history by learning slowly. So soon enough, you’re actually dancing together.

Luke’s hand on your back feels like the most natural thing in the world, and you can tell he’s actually starting to get a little into it.

You didn’t have to count your steps off anymore, so you’d switched to humming one of your favorite symphonies from the musicians back in Aurelda.

Luke is still focused on landing every move, but your lead and the music gives him confidence in this that he didn’t really know he had. He spins you, and you get an idea as you twirl your way to the balcony door. You open it and look back at him.

“Princess—” Luke starts as he takes a few steps towards you, but you just shake your head with a grin and hold out your hand.

“Trust me.”

And he does, somehow.

You didn’t know what part of himself Luke had to get to in order to actually go along with this, but he allowed you to fully take the lead. His eyes never left yours as you guided him through one of your favorite dances—sometimes you called out whatever move that was coming next, and he would do it perfectly. His instincts and reaction time, sharply honed by his training, actually came in handy.

“And lift!”

Luke braced his hands on your waist as he raised you into the air without missing a beat, and you found yourself actually laughing with pure glee as you landed. You grinned at Luke who had a smile smaller than yours, but that you knew meant the same. He glowed with exertion and the light of the full moon shone down on him.

Angelic was the only word you could think of to describe him.

“Princess,” he said, bringing you back to the real world, “are we done?”

“I see no reason not to end while we’re ahead,” you said, slightly out of breath from his lift. “You’re a natural. Are you sure you’re not a prince?”

Luke’s smile didn’t fully reach his eyes for the slightest moment—he covered it up before you could fully analyze it. “Thankfully, I’m not. Otherwise I would have had to do that all my life like you.”

“Oh, it’s not that bad,” you said offhandedly. “Especially when you’ve got such a great partner.”

Luke suddenly lowered himself into a bow, his arm held in front of his chest as he bent over. You couldn’t stifle your laugh in time, but he was smiling when he rose.

“The only proper way to truly end a dance, so I’ve seen,” he said. “I wouldn’t be such a great partner if I forgot that.”

You grinned as you took the skirt of your nightgown in your hands and bobbed into a curtsy. “Thank you for the reminder, my lord.”

A shiver ran through you and Luke’s eyebrows creased. “You should get back inside. You’re not dressed at all for this weather.”

“It’s simply a night chill,” you said, and you walked over to the railing and rested your forearms on it. “And it’s too beautiful a night to ignore.”

“It truly is.”

You heard Luke walk up next to you, so you glanced over. His gaze was only set on you.

You felt your cheeks flush and you bit back your smile as you stared back up at the stars. For a moment, you stood together in comfortable silence.

“Thank you for tonight,” you finally said.

You could hear his frown in his words. “What do you mean?”

“Exactly what I said.” You leaned a bit closer to the railing, shifting your balance. “Your presence always… calms me. And I was a bit nervous for tonight.”

When Luke finally responded, it was more restrained than usual. “Why?”

“Well, I was nervous tonight because you put the idea in my head that I was going to get murdered,” you said wryly. “And your presence calms me because it always has.”

“So… I made you nervous and calmed you down for what I made you nervous about?” Luke shook his head. “I’m sorry, princess.”

“Why are you apologizing?” You finally turned to look at him, the smallest smile on your lips. “Anytime I got overwhelmed on the floor, or felt as if I was going to keel over from boredom, I just searched around until I found you.” You shrugged. “The sight of you alone was enough to get me through the rest of it.”

“And of course,” you tipped a shoulder as your gaze drifted back to the stars, “you danced with me for no reason. That gives you all the good will you need from me.”

“It wasn’t for no reason,” he said. “It made you happy. That’s reason enough for me.”

The chill in the air was a blessing as you felt heat rise in your cheeks, and your smile grew just so.

“Besides.” You could feel his eyes on you as he continued. “This was my first ball. Anytime I got overwhelmed, I would find you in the crowd, and your confidence got me through it.”

You chuckled as your gaze fell to the marble railing. You didn’t know if you’ve ever felt less confident at a ball—but knowing that Luke was looking for you the same way you did him made butterflies arise in your stomach.

Warmth spurned all through you, and the fingers on your forearms felt bumps rise on your skin. You didn’t exactly know what possessed you as you cleared your throat and started back towards your room.

“It’s late,” you said, perhaps a bit too hasty. “We— we should turn in. It’s going to be a long ride back to Aurelda.”

You paused at the door, waiting to hear Luke’s footsteps or his voice, and it took a few seconds for him to do anything.

“...Yes,” he eventually said. “I apologize for keeping you so long.”

You couldn’t help but laugh to yourself as you opened the door and walked back in. Always so noble—it was no question he had knight’s blood in his veins.

“It’s not your fault, Luke,” you said. “You were just meant to drop me off—I got you to stay.”

You sat on the side of your bed as Luke put his armor back on. There was no point in it, but he refused to let the implications of him leaving your room at this hour in his underclothes fester.

“I chose to stay,” he said. “I know better.”

“You can give it a rest for a night, Luke,” you said with a slight laugh. “I’m your princess, aren’t I?”

“Certainly.”

“And you are my knight.”

“Yes.”

“Then I don’t see how anyone could have a problem with my knight spending time with me.” You smiled as you leaned forward, meeting his eyes. A smile twitched on his lips for just a moment before he continued to get dressed.

Soon enough, he was ready to go. Luke paused at the door, fingers on the handle, and met your eyes.

“Thank you again for tonight, princess,” he said. “I…”

His breath caught for a moment. His eyes flickered down to your neck. A millisecond later, they were back at eye level, and you allowed a knowing smile.

“I enjoyed it,” he murmured. “Goodnight, princess.”

“Goodnight, Luke,” you said softly.

And you got one more smile out of him before he closed the door behind him.

#IF I EVER DO NOT DO THE “IT'S BEAUTIFUL” “YEAH IT IS” *LOOKING AT THEM* TROPE THEN I AM DEAD I AM DEADDDD DO YOU HEAR ME #posting at midnight because i once again have no self control #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan fic #luke castellan fluff #luke castellan headcanon #luke castellan au #percy jackson and the olympians x reader #pjo x reader #x reader #knight!luke #sadie writes

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 months ago

Text

Wicked Games 10

Warnings: non/dubcon, cheating, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Steve Rogers

Summary: you had a one night stand. Or did you?

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

The tears strike like a flash food. Sudden and stormy and completely overwhelming. The world around you disappears behind the wall of your grief.

When you float into a lull, your swollen eyes taken in the room. You lay in a bed, not your own, none of this is yours. It’s all him. It belongs to him. What about you? Do you belong to him now? Is that what this is? Or is this just about what that part of him inside of you?

You hiccup and sniffle, rubbing your raw nose as your head pulses. A ripple flows up your back from an unexpected touch and you wince. You hug yourself and angle to see behind you.

Steve slides his hand up to your shoulder and squeezes, “honey, can I get you anything?”

You shake your head, the movement aching in your skull, and turn back to the face the room. He sighs and drags his hand down your back. Despite yourself, his touch is soothing.

“You’re tense. That’s not good for the baby,” he says.

“Please, not right now,” you plead.

He’s silent. His fingers continue to rove around your back and walk along the curve of your side. “You’re not excited to be a mom?” He asks.

You close your eyes as your lip poke out.

“I’m excited,” he says. “To be a dad. I’ll be a good dad. And a good husband.”

“Husband?” You his and lean forward so that your almost face down. You just want to stop feeling, to stop thinking, to stop being, and he won’t let you.

“Yeah, we’ll get married. Make sure the kid grows up right. With both parents.”

You laugh sardonically. The sort of brittle laugh that hurts. Nothing’s funny, in fact, it’s far from.

“You don’t even ask me. You just tell me? Yes, Captain, whatever you want.” Your eyes well again, this time in futility.

“I’m doing the right thing. I’m being a good man. I’ve seen this world. Thing’s aren’t what they used to be. Men like me, they don’t exist. They have no sense of tradition,” he says.

Tradition? It’s a particular sort of code word that makes all the flags turn red. You suck in your breath and gather your strength. You sit up shakily and look over at him. You can barely keep your head up.

“I don’t remember. You know that, right? That night is... nothing. It never happened. Not a single second. I woke up and I was blank. I didn’t know it was you, not until you found me, mocked me in that store,” you scoff and your vision rings in agony. “That’s how much it meant and this...” you look down at your stomach. “I guess that’s the consequence.”

You hear his breath, feel him shift. He sits up, his torso naked. He stares forward as you drop your head and cradle it, bending your knees to support your elbows. He clucks and reaches over. He brings his phone over his lap.

“Don’t remember.” He taps on the screen so hard you can hear it.

He angles the screen to you and you reluctantly tilt your head to see. You know before you look. Of course, that’s why he didn’t forget. He has it right there. He recorded it all.

“...you’re so sexyyyyy...” you slur towards the camera. Your voice, your expression, the way you sway, it’s plain to see your drunk beyond sense. “Come on, cap...” you shake your naked tits at him, “you said you could do this all day.”

He snickers from behind the lens and approaches the bed. You turn over and show him your ass. You can see a glisten between your legs. It’s not the first time but you wish it could be the last. His hand enters the frame and he dips his fingers between your folds. You moan and wiggle against him. He pushes inside and you can hear how your cunt clings as he pulls out.

“Stop,” you fling your arm over to shove the phone away. “I can’t watch that--”

“You wanted it. You said you wanted me. That night was... magical.”

“It was—I’m married and we’re strangers.” You insist.

“Was. Were.” He snarls. “I told you I loved you and you said ‘if I weren’t married, Steve Rogers, I could love you too.’ You. You said that.”

“I was drunk out of my mind,” you rub your temples as your stomach starts to churn. “I was stupid and angry. Well, I’m still stupid.”

“No, you were unhappy. Your husband didn’t treat you right. We both know it. Everything that’s happened doesn’t change that,” he says.

“Maybe not but...”

“But what? You don’t have to slave away in some crappy apartment. I have a penthouse. We have a penthouse. It has lots of room and if you want more room for the kids--”

“Kids? Plural?” You exclaim, so loud your ears ring.

“One thing at a time, sure,” he says. “I’m telling you, you don’t have to do all of that with me. All I’m asking is for you. That’s all.”

You look at him, your eyes dry and sleepy, your cheeks parched. “Maybe I want to be on my own,” you murmur.

“That’s not what you told me,” he retorts and looks at his phone again. He drags his thumb over it and puts the screen up again. You see yourself. You watch the worst night of your life.

“You love me, baby?” He asks as you slide up and down his dick.

“Yes, yes, yes!” You grope your chest as you bounce. “I love you, Steve. I love you.”

You cringe and shake your head. His fingers whiten as he grips the phone tighter. You slump, defeated.

“You’re not going back to work. Once they see this, they won’t want you,” he blacks the screen. “But I want you, sweetheart. You and our baby.”

#steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #series #drabble #au #captain america #avengers #mcu #marvel #wicked games

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stayconnecteed · 4 months ago

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kim seungmin drabble — 808 words !

⠀⠀⠀for the ❛ drabble event ❜⠀﹙ requested by @starlostastronaut ﹚⠀fluff / comfort, "shh, stop fussing. i'm just braiding your hair"

16 : 22⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀you felt seungmin’s long, tender fingers caressing your hair, and you hummed. it felt nice. the summer had begun, and you were melting under the warm sunlight of july, all cosy between your boyfriend’s legs, already falling asleep.

one of his friends had invited you to come over to his place, eager to celebrate a birthday party for his first born, and seungmin - the funny and chaotic uncle - just had to be there. your presence was requested with his lovely threats and bright puppy eyes, and you couldn't ignore, so you had let your boyfriend pick out his favourite sundress while you showered and ended up accompanying him to the gathering.

but once everyone had enjoyed chan’s barbecue, and all the side dishes his fiancée had brought to changbin’s house, once the birthday girl had blown out her candles and the chocolate cake had been devoured, it was nap time. jisung had kidnapped his godson, the youngest seo, to have a peaceful sleep indoors, and the rest of the big family had decided to stay in the garden, chatting and relaxing over soft blankets, barefoot and free.

seungmin’s massage had started as soon as he realised how tired you really were, watching you drift between consciousness and the haze of dreams, helping you rest as much as you could. you had just finished eating, and with all the stress you had been under just before finally having your well-deserved holidays, he was going to make sure nobody disturbed you while you got rid of all the exhaustion you had put up with for weeks.

and you weren’t going to complain. with your head resting on his belly, feeling every breath, the gentle breeze dancing on your skin and the murmur of his friends a lullaby that sounded far away. it was the type of plan you didn’t know you needed, but you ended up going to anyway - and it always made you feel so much better.

dozing off, trying to pay attention to the anecdotes changbin and his daughter are sharing with their characteristic giggling but failing miserably, you found yourself falling into the familiar blur of quietness that seungmin's touch put you under. for a moment it almost felt like you were in the comfort of your bed, cuddling your boyfriend in a content whirlpool of pacified emotions.

until you got rid of the daydream, startling yourself back to wakefulness, and you realised someone was trying not to pull your hair too tightly. you frowned, thrashing around between seungmin's legs as much as you could before the pain of your hair being tugged made you bring your hands to your head, soothing the ache away.

“shh, stop fussing” your boyfriend whispered, his fingers interlocking with yours, guiding your hand back to his thigh, where it had been resting while you were sleeping.

“what…” you tried to ask, still uncertain about what was going on. you couldn’t see seungmin’s face, his navy cap spilling shadows over it, but you could feel jeongin’s teasing smile from the edge of the pool, where he was sitting, swinging his feet in the water.

“i’m braiding your hair, silly” he revealed, the pressure applied on the strands of your hair becoming a distant memory. then you felt his hands kneading at the flush in your shoulders, and you sighed, malleable under his touch.

“what for?”

“it's pool time!” changbin's daughter shrieked, coming out of the house with her pink swimsuit and into your arms. “can you help me with the pinkeu sae?”

“the pink bird, her flamingo float” seungmin whispered into your ear, caressing the sides of your hips now that you were still in his embrace. as soon as the toddler asked for her unnie attention, he wouldn't have you much more time by his side.

he saw you nod, sharing a brief glance with him, and then get up, taking the girl in your arms to go and apply some sunscreen. seungmin could get used to that vision, at least in the future. but he wouldn't say a thing, not before being sure it was what you wanted. a family.

“you’re a simp” minho announced, somewhere to his left.

“i only braid her hair because i know she loves how it curls after swimming, when it has dried” he said, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the tree he had been sitting by. he still had a hair tie on his wrist out of the three he had put that morning. he could still feel your body on his. he could hear your laughter from inside the house, as you put on your bikini and helped jisung get the kids ready for the pool.

“a siiiimp!” repeated jeongin, splashing water in his direction.

seungmin smiled, but he didn't say anything.

yes, he was. but only for you.

#﹙ ★ ﹚ mars — writes.#kim seungmin #seungmin x reader #stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #seungmin fluff #seungmin comfort #stray kids fluff #skz x reader

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craziness2345 · 3 months ago

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Okay so first fiction I was trying out I need ideas if anyone wants to send me some requests this is a short one shot I guess it’s kinda fluff? No warnings I don’t grammar check these future reference but I do plan one making them longer I do requests for any not just Wanda and Natasha I can do other aswell)

“Come on move it “ you mumble to yourself the pain shooting up your leg as you limp down another hall gun in your left hand while your right hand uses the wall to support yourself. You let out a pained gasp as you curse myself internally for letting this happen. You hear footsteps and curse gun raised up before you see Natasha rounding the corner freezing when she sees you she instantly talks into the comms “ found y/n she’s in immediate need of medical attention so have the Quinn jet ready” she says quickly coming to your side you gasp in relief as you feel her pick you up in a instant worry flooding her green eyes “ y/n thank god i got here in time” Natasha says softly causing you to hum in agreement “thought I was a goner “ you mumble out weakly leaning into her “ you should of called for back up sooner” she whispers as you just give a weak smile in return “mm I’m sorry Nat” you mumble out your eyes slowly shutting as the exhaustion hits not even able to hear the next words come out of her mouth as everything goes completely black.

-&-

Beep!beep!beep! A loud groan leaves your lips as your eyes open slowly annoyed by the beeping you groan from the brightness that hits your eyes. Slowly you re open them letting your eyes taking in the small white room realizing you were in med bay you turn your head to see two red heads slumped up against eachother.

A small smile traces your lips taking in Wanda and Natasha being right here by your side but also feeling guilty that they fell asleep in such an awkward position. You slowly move to sit up before a pain shoots up from your leg to your back causing you to cry out as you fall back on the bed. In an instant your vision was filled with two red heads worry clear in their eyes. “ oh thank god you’re awake you have us a scare” Wanda says gently letting her hand go through your hair “ want me to get a nurse to give you some pain killers?” Nat asks gently. You nod instantly “ please” you mumble your voice dry as Wanda instantly grabs you a cup of water to drink. The cold water soothing your dry throat as you thank her quietly.

You shut your eyes for a moment as Wanda’s soothing voice hits your ears” how you feeling?” She asks gently causing you to smile “ feels like I was attacked by 40 hydra agents” you joke causing Wanda to give you a not so amused look “ that’s not funny when it actually happened “ she says unamused. You pout playfully at that “ awww come on Wands im sorry “ you say causing her to roll her eyes “ next time you call for help instead of being stubborn” she says sternly causing me to roll my eyes “I handled them just fine” you counter causing a loud scoff by the door as Natasha walks back in “ fine my ass you ended up in the hospital with a broken leg and two gunshot wounds in the leg and back” she hisses.

You sigh “ but I’m alive” you counter “ yeah because of me!” She snaps “ you’re suppose to ask for help or call for backup “ she says slowly “ not call after you take half down and run off through the facility for us to have to search for you handling the rest” she sighs. You frown slouching “ I’m sorry they didn’t look that bad till after I didn’t think some of them were that strong” you sigh “I won’t do it again” you say gently to them causing there eyes to soften “ you’re right you won’t because Steve is benching you for two months and that’s after you are signed off to being good to go” she says sternly causing you to widen your eyes “ what!” You ask shooting up only to get more sharp pains going through your back and leg causing you to fall back in pain Wanda and Natasha instantly tensing up “ careful” Wanda coos worriedly kissing your forehead gently.

You shut you eyes as the pain subsides as dr Cho walks in to administer the morphine “ please don’t be a pain in my ass and actually rest” she deadpans causing you to grumble “ sorry” you sigh as she changes your Iv bag out for a new one before leaving. You stare at Natasha and Wanda with frustration in your eyes “ that’s not fair” you mumble as they sigh “ oh it’s completely fair and if you try to be stubborn and fight it you’re sleeping on the couch “ Nat warns causing you to frown deeper looking at Wanda in desperation but she just shrugs “ I agree “ she says. You let a scowl cross your lips looking away” fine “ you grumble causing a smirk to grace Nat’s lips as she kisses your forehead and Wanda rubs your shoulder gently “ now rest” Wanda says sternly causing you to sigh nodding “ yes mom” you grumble which got her to give you a glare” I meant love of my life?” You say sheepishly. Her glare lightens up “ lucky I love you” she sighs kissing your forehead Natasha laughing lightly to herself. You slowly start to close your eyes “ can you two lay with me” you beg “ detka this bed is two small for all three of us” Natasha chuckles. You pout opening your eyes staring at them with puppy dog eyes before Wanda sighs “ y/n darling we can’t both fit and you’re hurt” she says gently “ but ifeel like shit and I wanted to be in you’re embraces “ you mumble your eyes watering. “ okay okay listen we’ll try to squish on this bed Malysh “ Natasha says soothingly kissing your temple as they try to squeeze in on either side of you but also being careful of your injuries. Even though they were uncomfortable Natasha having to have one leg on the floor to hold herself and Wanda having to practically use her foot against the chair to stay on it was worth it to see you starting to relax and have a smile on you’re face as you fall asleep.

They watch you sleep for awhile in silence Wanda stroking you’re hair as Natasha watches “ I don’t know what I would of done if I didn’t find her in time” she whispers Wanda giving her a look “ but you did don’t worry about the what ifs and just focus on the present” she warns gently. “ I know you right but it’s just hard this was just suppose to be a in and out mission and we were there just incase” she mumbles “ I don’t understand where those hydra agents came from because we had scanned for any heat signals before she went in” Natasha says eyes furrowed causing Wanda to sigh “ no you’re right that is weird “ she says “ you don’t think one of the agents tipped hydra” Wanda asks as mats eyes widen “ I need to go tell fury” she says quickly causing Wanda to give her her a look “ no your gonna stay here and you can call him she needs us right now Nat” Wanda says softly causing Natasha to nod relaxing again well the best she could “ your right “ she mumbles kissing your forehead gently and then kissing Wanda’s hand “ I’ll text Maria “ she says as Wanda nods just glad that you were awake and okay but also thinking about what she would do to the agent once they figured out who it was for being the cause of all this.

#wanda maximoff #marvel #natasha romanoff #wandanat #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #wandanat x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximommy #the avengers #natasha romanoff x wanda maximoff

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