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zeciex · 10 months

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A Vow of Blood - 49

Warnings: This fic includes noncon, dubcon, manipulation, violence and inc3st. Tags will be added as the fic goes on. This is a dark!fic. 18+ only. Read at your own discretion. Please read the warnings before continuing.

Summary: “You will be trapped by the obligations of love and duty, unable to escape the web of expectations others have woven around you,“ the witch said….

Chapter 49: The Stag hunts the Stag

AO3 - Masterlist

Aemond paused at the entrance to her bedchambers, his gaze sweeping over her fragile figure. His eyes fixated on the crimson streak that marred her cheek, a vivid trail that seemed to originate from a wound near her ear. In the dimly lit room, she appeared almost lifeless, her skin drained of color and glistening with perspiration and were it not for her body shaking, he might have thought her dead. Her trembling hand clung desperately to her robe, preserving her modesty in the midst of her distress.

Her eyes, large and shimmering with tears, sought out his presence. As her trembling lips parted, her voice emerged feeble and barely audible. “Aemond.”

The utterance of his name, resembling a fragile prayer, jolted him from his state, and he knelt down beside her, his touch gentle and careful as he brushed a strand of disheveled hair away from her pale face. A broken sob escaped from her quivering lips, her brows lifting slightly in relief at his presence.

Her trembling hand wrapped around his wrist, her nails digging into his skin as if she feared he might vanish before her eyes. Her forehead came to rest against his, and it seemed as though she drew strength from their proximity. Her voice, though raw and hoarse as if she had been screaming, resonated with a mixture of desperation and authority.

“Leave us, Jelissa,” she implored, her words carrying the weight of her vulnerability.

Jelissa, hesitant yet loyal, paused to obey. “But, princess–”

“Please, she begged, her plea cutting through the air like a knife. It was a command, but also a plea for understanding, her voice quivering with the turmoil that gripped her.

Aemond heard the young servant fidgeting, the rapid shuffle of her feet indicating her hasty departure from the room. He surmised that she was off to fetch Daenera’s more experienced attendant.

Gently, he brushed a strand of disheveled hair away from her ear, his finger tracing the contours of the injury. The delicate shell of her ear had been cruelly cleaved in two, the wound so profound it seemed as if some merciless force had torn it asunder. But it was no accident, nor was it the result of some otherworldly force; it was the work of human hands. Her husband's. The wound bore the ominous promise of leaving behind not merely a scar, but a distinctive cleft that would forever mar her once-pristine ear.

Uncontrollable, sickening fury coiled within him, a venomous emotion that twisted his gut into knots. It festered like a long-inflicted wound, seeping into his bloodstream and corroding his insides.

Daenera’s eyes fluttered shut once more, and Aemond couldn’t resist leaning back, cradling her delicate head in his hands. He stroked her pallid skin tenderly, his touch a soothing balm to her suffering. His voice laced with concerns as he sought to understand the torment she had endured, though he already knew what had happened.

“He did this?”

She swallowed hard, her brows knitting together in a grim expression, and as she spoke, her voice came out in a whisper. “He knows…”

She didn’t need to provide further details for him to grasp the gravity of her words. Daenera leaned into his touch, her eyes slowly reopening, as if seeking solace and reassurance in his reaction. There were the faintest traces of uncertainty in them, and it only served to twist a knife into his guts.

Aemond’s once composed demeanor underwent a stark transformation, contorting with a visceral rage. His jaw clenched as he ground his teeth on empty air. His lips curled in a sneer, resembling fangs bared in a display of primal aggression that seemed to emerge from the depths of his being. The embers of anger that had smoldered within him since Boris’s initial act of cruelty now erupted into an all-consuming blaze. He bitterly regretted not ending it then and there.

Pressing his forehead gently against hers once more, he uttered words that dripped with bone-chilling fury. “I will not only kill him, but I will make him suffer a torment that will have his nightmares pale in comparison and have him begging for mercy.”

“No,” Daenera murmured, her grip on him desperate, as if he were her sole tether to this cruel world. Her nails bore into his wrist, inflicting a sharp, stinging sensation.

“No?” Aemond echoed, incredulous and somewhat taken aback.

But Daenera’s eyes underwent a transformation, the blue depths now blazing with unwavering determination and smoldering vengeance. “You cannot simply cut him down.”

Aemond’s lip curled in a sneer, his voice laced with bitterness. “Why not?”

Her narrowed eyes bore into his, their intensity unyielding. “Because if you do, you’ll find your own head adorning a spike beside mine.”

“Then what will you have me do?” Aemond pressed, his tone sharp and pointed. “Shall I soothe his brutality with my touch? Shall I stand by idly, watching as he continues to subject you to abuse and humiliation?” He knew he was being cruel, hurling her own fears back at her like a weapon, but his fury left him little room for restraint. “Will I have to witness him forcing you to bear his children, only to see you brutally butchered when they refuse to enter this world?”

Daenera’s lips curled into a sneer as she fired back, her voice dripping with disdain.

“I’d have you see him from this fucking world,” Daenera sneered back at him. “But you needn’t draw your sword for it and risk our lives in the process.”

Aemond watched her carefully.

Daenera extended her delicate hand, silently imploring him for assistance. Aemond’s strong fingers enveloped hers, carefully guiding her to her unsteady feet. She drew in a sharp, pained breath through clenched teeth as she rose, her movements marked by the stiffness and discomfort. Each step through the room seemed to demand an effort, her breath escaping in jagged exhales.

Strands of her once-lustrous hair clung to the drying blood that trailed down her neck, a grim testament to the ordeal she had endured. The crimson streaks marred her skin, with some strands sticking to the viscous liquid.

“As you’re aware,” she began, her lithe fingers deftly opening the ornate jewelry chest on her vanity, “I’ve resorted to poisoning him to evade my duty in the marriage bed.”

Her slender fingers delved into the box, disappearing from view as she retrieved something hidden within.

“A few drops to induce sleep. A few drops to lower his blood pressure, rendering him incapable of fulfilling his marital duties. A few more drops to make him uncomfortable and sick,” she admitted, her voice laced with the weight of deceit.

Turning back towards Aemond, her bare feet padded softly across the cool floor. Her gaze bore into his, a mixture of vulnerability and apprehension clouding her eyes as she searched for any signs of disgust or betrayal. She hesitated, the truth she was about to reveal hanging in the air, a precarious confession that could spell her ruin.

Aemond understood the gravity of her admission. The revelation she was about to make could potentially topple her from her position. If this damning secret were ever brought to his mother, the Queen, or his grandfather, the Hand of the King, it would be enough to consign her to the dungeons and ultimately the executioner’s block on the morrow.

And perhaps, a flicker of trepidation kindled within her, the fear that his perception of her might change irreparably.

“If–” she started anew, the frown etching deeper lines on her brow as she struggled to articulate her thoughts. “He was destined to meet his end. It was always my intention, and I took meticulous steps to ensure there would be a trail of sickness to explain his sudden departure from this world. I’ve been poisoning him.”

A perverse sense of satisfaction welled within Aemond as he came to fully grasp the depths of Daenera’s cunning and ruthlessness. It became glaringly evident that she had never entertained any alternative to her husband’s demise. She had manipulated the strings of fate, introduced poison into her husband's life, and now intended to bide her time, patiently waiting for it to corrode and ultimately claim him.

Boris Baratheon might have lived a few more years, were it not for his own temperament.

Aemond couldn’t help but acknowledge the monstrous nature of her actions. There was a certain monstrousness in her nature that stood mirrored in Aemond’s own. He recognized the fierce determination burning in her eyes, the same fervor that had once illuminated her when she had been drenched in blood, a smile on her lips as she had admitted to the thrill of killing her attacker.

Aemond’s hand swiftly reached out for her the moment she drew near enough. As his fingers gently caressed her cheek, she released a breath of relief, instinctively leaning into his touch. Her own hand, steady and purposeful, rose to present the ring.

At first glance, the ring was of fine craftsmanship, adorned with intricate twists and rivulets that hinted at its origin across the Narrow Sea. Her finger gracefully traced a small crease in the ring’s design, her nail delicately probing it. With a subtle push, she revealed the concealed mechanism, causing a concealed needle to spring forth amidst the intricate patterns.

Their gazes locked in a moment of unspoken understanding.

“Prick his horse and see him fall from the saddle,” Daenera declared, her voice resolute. “The poison in his blood will ensure he does not survive his wounds.”

Aemond closely observed as she gracefully slid the ring onto his finger. His heart seemed to pound within his chest with an intensity akin to the war drums of a battlefield, each beat fueled by an overwhelming surge of bloodlust.

He would have forsaken all caution, willing to carry out his brutal act in broad daylight, uncaring of the impending political scandal it would unleash, had she not bid him to stay his hand. He would have unleashed a violent reckoning, tearing into her husband like the swine he perceived him to be. In his eyes, the man deserved nothing less than swift retribution. But she would have been right, it would likely have cost him his head.

Yet, even amidst her pain and humiliation, Daenera possessed the remarkable ability to quell his immediate impulse, to temper the storm of his anger with her mere presence.

His thumb traced the band of the ring, feeling the weight of it settle on his finger as if it had been made for him.

“Your husband won’t live to witness the dawn,” Aemond vowed, his voice unwavering as he made his solemn promise. His thumb brushed gently over the cut on her lip, inadvertently smudging a trace of blood.

Tears welled in her eyes, and she blinked rapidly, fighting to restrain them. The sight of her struggling to hold back her emotions pierced him deep, like a dagger between the ribs. He sensed her reluctance to appear weak, even in the midst of her pain.

In a tender gesture of reassurance, Aemond pressed a gentle kiss to her temple, resting his forehead against hers in a silent, unspoken pledge of understanding. “Byka narys. Kesan tatagon skoros ao rhēdan. Ñuha sȳndor bantio rūklon.”

Little poison. I will finish what you started. My little nightshade .

Leaving her in the capable hands of her servants, Aemond had full confidence that they would tend to her needs while he embarked on the task she had entrusted him with.

Aemond donned his hunting attire, meticulously arranging his sword and dagger within the belt encircling his hips. With a determined stride, he made his way toward the stables, the echo of his boots reverberating down the stone steps of the Keep until they met gravel. There, he summoned the stableboy to prepare his steed for the upcoming venture.

In the tiltyard, the hunting party had begun to assemble, their presence signifying the impending excursion, the hounds eager and spirited, where being carefully loaded onto a wagon, ready for the journey, their barks permeating the air.

Aemond mounted his horse, settling comfortably into the saddle as he prepared for the pursuit ahead.

“Prince Aemond, have you decided to grace us with your company for today's hunt?” Ser Camren Wylde inquired, drawing the attention of those gathered to Aemond’s presence.

Aemond responded with a dry tone, his voice carrying an underlying hint of sarcasm, “Lord Baratheon has so generously extended his invitation. I simply could not refuse.”

Boris shot Aemond a venomous glare, his brows knitting together in a thick furrow. Witha mix of disdain and frustration, he spat on the ground, narrowly missing a nearby gold cloak who had offered him a wineskin. Boris seized the wineskin forcefully from the gold cloak’s outstretched hand, his anger palpable.

Aemond recognized the gold cloak as one of those who had been subjected to interrogation regarding the deaths of their prisoners following the attack on Daenera. The name, Flint, Finn, or something in that vague vicinity, crossed his mind, but it held little significance for him. At that moment, Aemond couldn’t care less.

The gold cloak mounted his own horse and followed Boris as their group departed from the confines of the Keep.

Aemond’s gaze lifted, drawn towards Daenera’s chambers. Amidst the gentle breeze, he spotted a vibrant black shawl fluttering like a defiant flame against the backdrop of the castle’s stone walls. He turned the horse and followed the hunting party.

As they rode out of King’s Landing and ventured over the fields that led to the Kingswood, Aemond’s thoughts meandered towards when Daenera had made the decision to poison her husband. It was more than just keeping him away from the marriage bed; it seemed to him that it would always have resulted in ending his life. He didn’t judge her for wanting to be free of her wretched husband, but he couldn’t help but wonder whether there was a specific instance that had made her conscious of her choice, and he wondered if he had played a role in that conscious effort.

Daenera had always possessed a certain ruthlessness, a quality that both intrigued and fascinated him. She was like the nightshade flower, captivating in its beauty yet harboring a deadly poison within. She, too, was poison–a complex blend of sweetness and bitterness, intoxicating and vengeful. Aemond couldn’t deny that she had poisoned him as well, not physically, but in a way that seeped into his very essence.

He felt it in his blood, the lingering effects of her presence, as if her poison had infected every part of him. Aemond had longed for a cure for so long, a way to cleanse himself of the intoxicating allure she held over him, only to have found that the poison might well be the very blood that coursed through his veins, irremovable.

The leather reins in Aemond’s hands emitted a soft creaking sound as he tightened his grip, the golden ring adorning his finger catching and reflecting the light. It was a deceptively delicate piece, its intricate design belying the deadly purpose it concealed within.

As Aemond’s mind wandered back to the haunting memory, the vivid image of Daenera lingered in his thoughts. She leaned against the side of the bed, a fragile figure, her eyes tightly shut as she breathed with effort, each inhalation a struggle. From the very moment her servant had frantically knocked on his door, her face flushed and eyes brimming with tears, he had sensed something was terribly wrong.

Without hesitation, he had followed the young servant through the Keep’s corridors, traversing the well-lit halls instead of the dark, hidden passageways he had grown accustomed to.

And there she had been, a vision of beauty tainted by the cruel hand of her husband. The memory of that sight still seared in his mind, igniting a furry that curbed in his gut and burned beneath his skin like a relentless fire.

As Aemond rode on, Boris up ahead continued to drain his wineskin, his drunkenness growing more apparent with each passing moment. By the time they ventured into the depths of the forest, his speech had grown boisterous and his temper volatile. His fellow men seemed to sense his foul mood but wisely refrained from making any remarks.

The hunting party’s dogs were unleashed, their enthusiastic barks and fierce growls echoing through the forest. They dogs that remained on leashes, strained against their confines, their noses to the ground, eager to pick up the scent of animals. The hunting party began to disperse into smaller groups, covering a larger area of the forest floor in search of prey.

Aemond, however, remained atop his horse, carefully navigating the dense underbrush of the forest, following the lead of the Northerner who forged the way on foot, his spear at the ready.

Aemond’s keen senses detected a subtle movement out of the corner of his eye, prompting him to casually shift his gaze toward Boris. There, he found Boris with his crossbow raised, the weapon threateningly aimed at Aemond’s heart. A dangerous tension hung in the air.

Aemond’s voice remained steady as he asked, “Do you mean to kill me?”

Boris, his eyes glinting with malice and dark intent, growled in response. He seemed to relish the idea of taking Aemond’s life. His finger slid along the trigger, and Aemond could discern the contemplation that crossed his features, almost as if he were envisioning what he’d look like with a crossbow bolt piercing his chest.

“It would only be fair, wouldn’t it?” He sneered. “I could blame it on a hunting accident.”

Aemond, undaunted by the threat, met Boris’s gaze head-on. “Pull the trigger. See what happens.”

For a fleeting moment, Boris contemplated the idea, his expression hardening with resolve. He drew in a sharp breath, his fingers seeming to itch to release the deadly bolt. Then, with a clenched jaw and a begrudging acknowledgment of the consequences, he lowered the crossbow. Killing the prince would inevitably lead to his own gruesome demise, either by the King’s orders or by Aemond’s own resolve should he not be killed in an instant. It seemed he did not have the nerve.

“That’s what I thought,” Aemond responded with a condescending tone.

Boris rode up alongside Aemond, his voice carrying a warning, “I would be careful about the words you choose, Prince. Or I may find myself compelled to reveal the nature of your character.”

Aemond couldn’t resist a growing smirk, hiswords laced with sarcasm, “Would you dare admit that your wife sought solace and satisfaction elsewhere?”

“I will tarnish both your reputations if you test me,” Boris growled, his anger evident as he spat, a glob of spittle landing in his beard. “I’m taking my wife back to Storm’s End, where she will be taught to be a dutiful and faithful wife, bearing me sons of royal blood.”

Aemond’s grip on the reins tightened as he struggled to maintain control of his temper. The thought of Boris taking her away and subjecting her to such brutality gnawed at him. He envisioned Boris uprooting her from her surroundings and systematically stripping her of her spirit, petal by fucking petal. Even if she possessed a defiant spirit, Storm’s End and the harsh climate of her marriage would surely crush her.

She’d be confined to a tower, forced to endure the burdens of pregnancy and childbirth until it killed her, and all by his orders. It was the thing she feared the most, she had told him that much.

His thumb absentmindedly played with the ring on his finger. “She will never bear you sons.”

Boris let out a derisive laugh. “Don’t tell me you’ve fallen in love with her.”

Aemond kept his gaze on the ring, his voice a quiet murmur. “I, too, have been poisoned.”

His words were carried away by a gentle breeze, which caused the leaves to rustle in the trees and the streaks of light filtering through the crown to dance. Boris carried on, his words dripping with disdain, “It’s truly pathetic, isn’t it? To fall in love with another man’s wife. If she wouldn’t bear me my children, I’d have hung her on display over the gates of Storm’s End.”

“Daenera will never let your seed take root,” Aemond replied, draggin his eye away from the ring. “She’s spiteful like that.”

“I won’t give her a choice,” Boris snarled. “What good is a wife who cannot bear me sons? I suppose I’d have to seek out a new wife then.”

Boris didn’t need to elaborate further; Aemond understood the implication of his words. Aemond’s thumb deftly manipulated the ring, turning its ornate surface inward. With a quick flick, he released the small needle concealed within. He assumed Daenera had it laced with poison.

Amidst the sounds of distant yells in the forest, a spotter had apparently sighted a white stag. The majestic creature vaulted over a fallen tree, racing past both Aemond and Boris. Aemond lightly tapped the rear of Boris’s horse, while the burly man spurred his steed into a gallop. Aemond followed at a more measured pace, showing no particular interest in pursuing the stag.

Aemond’s heart pounded loudly within his chest, its rhythmic trump nearly drowning out the sounds of the forest. His lone eye remained fixed on Boris, who had given in to the wild and frenzied pursuit of the white stag. The red flush of his face undoubtedly fueled by the wine that swished in his belly.

Several heartbeats passed before the horse beneath Boris began to react. It reared up on its hind legs, hooves striking the ground with fury as its head swung wildly. Boris’s enraged shouts filled the air, accompanied by relentless kicks to the horse’s sides, desperate to spur it on in the pursuit of the elusive stag.

The white stag, driven by sheer terror, continued its mad dash for survival. It leaped over the thick trunk of a fallen tree, its powerful legs propelling it forward. Boris, oblivious to the danger, forced his horse to follow, and the beast attempted to mimic the stag’s leap. The result was a sickening crunch as the horse landed heavily on the other side of the obstacle.

Aemond, his own horse far more cooperative, calmly guided his steed around the fallen tree, his gaze fixed on the unfolding chaos.

Boris laid trapped beneath the weight of the fallen horse, his anguished grunts merging with the animal’s desperate attempts to roll over, an excruciating battle that only served to crush its rider further. The horse struggled, one of its forelegs shattered, rendering any hope of standing futile.

Aemond, perched on his saddle, observed the gruesome scene with a mixture of detachment and grim fascination. The horse, driven by agony, managed to flip itself over to the other side, all the while emitting gut-wrenching screams of pain. Meanwhile, Boris lay deadly still, his ragged breaths punctuated by the grim scene. He clawed at the ground, desperately attempting to inch away from the writhing beast pinning him down, but the damage he had sustained was extensive. Aemond could only surmise that Boris had likely suffered paralysis from the waist down.

Boris’s voice trembled with agony as he pointed an accusing finger at Aemond, his desperate plea for assistance tinged with despair.

“You…” he gasped, his breaths coming in shallow, labored bursts. “Get…help…”

Aemond dismounted gracefully, his movements deliberate and composed as he stepped closer to the broken man.

Boris, wracked with pain and desperation, reached out and grasped Aemond’s boot in a feeble attempt to implore him further. “Help–Get help!”

Aemond regarded Boris with a detached calmness, his head tilting slightly as he took in the extent of the man’s injuries. Boris’s legs and hips lay in a state of utter devastation, the shattered bones hidden beneath the gruesome disfigurement of his flesh. Every breath he took caused the swell of his stomach to rise and fall, and gradually, it seemed as if his gut began to fill with fluid, distending uncomfortably. His eyes once filled with malice, now bulged with pain and desperation, his breaths ragged and punctuated by a wet, gurgling sound.

Aemond’s senses were assaulted by the unmistakable stench of human waste, and he grimly recognized that Boris had lost control of his bowels, soiling himself in the process.

A wicked smirk curled on Aemond’s lips as he responded to Boris’s accusing glare.

“You must be in awful pain,” he murmured, feigning sympathy. “I had hoped you’d have snapped your neck, or at least been unable to speak.”

Boris could only manage a guttural grunt of accusation, his anger and agony merging into a wordless cry for help.

“I suppose I will have to rectify that,” Aemond muttered before delivering a vicious kick to Boris’s jaw, causing it to snap with a sickening crack. Blood gushed into Boris’s mouth as his teeth became dislodged or loosened from the impact, and it only made the gurgling more pronounced.

Aemond stepped back as Boris spat blood and fragments of teeth.

“Over here!” A voice called out. The Northern gold cloak emerged from the underbrush, coming to a sudden stop at the sight of Boris and the injured horse. A brief flicker of suspicion crossed his eyes as they settled on Aemond, but it swiftly dissipated as he seemed to settle something within himself. He rushed to Boris’s side.

As the horse thrashed and writhed in agony, the hunting party descended upon the scene, displaying an unsettling indifference to the animal’s suffering. They called for the wagon that had transported the dogs to the forest, intending to use it as a method of transportation to get Boris back to the Keep.

Aemond unsheathed his sword and carefully maneuvered past the injured man, putting an end to the horse’s torment with a single swift stroke to its neck.

The sound of the blade slicing through the air seemed to hush discussions of the men, causing some of them to involuntarily recoil at the grisly spectacle as blood poured onto the forest floor and the horses' screams settled into silence.

Aemond, undisturbed by the brutality he had just enacted, wiped the blood from his sword onto a nearby hedge before carefully sheathing it. His face remained resolute and unmoved, as if his own ruthlessness was merely a matter of fact in the grim forest scene.

He knew he wouldn’t extend the same mercy to the broken man lying in pain on the forest floor.

After Aemond departed, Joyce and Jelissa reentered the room, the latter still with reddened eyes and sniffles, the distress still clinging to her. Joyce’s eyebrows lifted in concern, her eyes widening as she saw Daenera’s condition.

Daenera felt her legs growing unsteady beneath her, threatening to buckle. She staggered unsteadily towards her bedchambers, her steps faltering as she dropped to her knees beside the empty chamber pot. In a miserable display, she retched into it, the acrid bile searing her throat as it clawed its way up. Joyce hurried to her side, her touch gentle as she brushed the disheveled hair away from Daenera’s face, offering what little comfort she could as the princess emptied the contents of her stomach.

Tears clung to Daenera’s lashes, and a trickle of snot dripped from her nose. With a trembling hand, she wiped her face clean, her body still shuddering from the ordeal.

Joyce reached out, placing a comforting hand on Daenera’s back, unwittingly applying pressure to the sensitive, inflamed skin. In response, Daenera flinched away from the touch with a pained hiss. Her wide, tear-filled eyes met Joyce’s startled gaze, and for a moment Joyce’s hand hung in the air, frozen in shock.

Collecting herself, Daenera spoke in a soft, yet resolute tone, “Help me up.”

She carefully guided Daenera towards a nearby table, gently helping her settle into a chair. Joyce’s fingers deftly sifted through Daenera’s hair, trying to pinpoint the source of the blood.

Daenera wearily rested her elbow on the table, allowing it to bear the weight of her head as she gently rubbed her throbbing forehead. The rush of adrenaline that had surged through her during the tumultuous encounter was now subsiding, leaving her feeling drained and chilled to the bone. Her body trembled involuntarily, despite her efforts to quell it, and her head ached in tandem with the persistent throb in her back. The fabric of her robe brushed uncomfortably against the sensitive flesh beneath, leaving her with the sensation she had been ripped to the bone, the very marrow of her being exposed.

In the background, Jelissa continued to sniffle, her nervousness evident in the way she wrung her hands together.

Joyce, her voice laced with palpable concern, broke the uneasy silence. “What happened?”

Her sharp question hung in the air, demanding an explanation for the distress that now clung to the room like a heavy shroud.

“Jelissa, could you get my black shawl and put it on the balcony, it is in need of air I should think,” Daenera’s voice emerged hoarse and fragile, as if each word struggled to escape her constricted vocal cords.

Her piercing blue eyes shifted to meet Joyce’s gaze, and in that fleeting moment, their silent understanding spoke volumes. Meanwhile, Jelissa hastened through the rooms, the black shawl clutched in her trembling hands. She hurriedly flung open the balcony doors, allowing the clamor of barking hounds and lively banter from men to seep into the chamber.

Joyce’s gaze dropped lower, fixating on something hidden beneath the collar of Daenera’s robes. With a gentle tug, she unveiled the princess’s marred back, the lashes etched across her skin in vivid violet streaks, their hue deepening ominously.

“Jelissa,” Joyce’s voice sliced through the air, her tone commanding and unwavering as she addressed the young maid, “cleanse your face and regain your composure. Afterward, fetch a bucket of ice from the kitchens.”

Her instruction held an implicit urgency, the need to tend to Daenera’s wounds apparent in the lines of concern etched across her face.

Jelissa wiped her face, steeling herself with a determined breath before departing the princess’s chambers. This left Joyce and Daenera the somber solitude of the room.

Joyce poured water into a basin, soaking a piece of cloth as Daenera’s trembling voice began to recount the harrowing ordeal, feeling as if she had to explain what had happened. As Joyce approached with the damp cloth, Daenera began, her words heavy with the weight of the situation.

“He knows,” she whispered, her throat thickening as Joyce carefully wiped away the smear of blood from her cheek. “He fell into a blind rage.” Daenera’s gaze drifted down to her wrist, the visible bruising from the leather restraints a stark testament to her husband’s cruelty, the discoloration deepening as time passed. She’d have to wear long sleeves for a while, Daenera thought curiously.

Her voice quivered with vulnerability as she continued, “He bound me to the bed and lashed me, demanding that he would mold me into a proper, loyal wife.” She swallowed, her tears on the brink of spilling over as she looked up at Joyce, her desperation laid bare. “He plans to take me to Storm’s End, and he’ll continue to inflict this torment on me. I will not have it.”

Joyce wetted the cloth once more, gently unpeeling the strands of hair that clung to Daenera’s bloody ear, her touch aggravating the wound, bringing back its stinging bite.

“You mustn't breathe a word of this to Fenrick yet,” Daenera implored, fully aware of the implication. “He’ll only say ‘I told you so.’”

“Fenrick would stand by you, Daenera,” Joyce insisted with conviction. “He’d want to protect you–”

Daenera interrupted her sharply, her words slicing through the air with a biting edge to her tone. “What good would it do? Could he serve me my husband’s head on a silver platter? Could he undo this wretched marriage? Will he agree with my decision? Fenrick can’t change anything, and even though he might not say it, there would be that look in his eyes, you know it.”

It was a look that Daenera had seen before, one that conveyed disappointment and implied judgment. She couldn’t bear the weight of it, nor did she desire to confront the possibility that Fenrick might not grasp her reasons or offer the understanding she needed.

Joyce offered a hum of acknowledgment, though her lips formed a tight line, signaling her subtle disagreement with Daenera’s decision.

“Can you make me appear presentable?” Daenera questioned, winching as the damp cloth grazed the wound on her ear, allowing the water to trickle down the swollen shell and into her ear canal, where it rested uncomfortably against her eardrum.

“I can,” Joyce drawled leadingly as her brows furrowed slightly. “But you should rest.”

“No one can know or even suspect what has transpired here,” Daenera clarified, her voice resolute. If word were to spread that Boris has raised his hand to her, and then met his death on the same day, suspicion would inevitably fall upon her. It was imperative to maintain appearances. “I have a meeting with Helaena, Kaylys and Tris at noon.”

Joyce signed softly, her fingers wringing the cloth within the blood-soaked water, its hue now tinged with the crimson evidence of Daenera’s ordeal. Her voice was a quiet murmur as she spoke her name. “Daenera.”

“I have no choice,” Daenera insisted, her tone unwavering, leaving no room for argument.

Joyce attended to Daenera’s wounded ear with meticulous care, methodically removing every trace of blood from the delicate skin. As she examined the laceration, her lips twisted downward in evident concern. After deeming it sufficiently clean, she gently aided Daenera in rising to her feet, guiding her towards the half-filled tub of cold water in front of the hearth.

Daenera lowered herself onto her knees, hunching forward over the edge of the tub. The position stretched the swollen, inflamed skin on her back, causing her to his through clenched teeth. The fabric of her robe pressed against the tender flesh, almost unbearable against the soreness. Despite the discomfort, she remained in the position, allowing Joyce to fill a jug with water and pour it over her head, the liquid streaming down her face and into the tub.

With great care, Joyce proceeded to cleanse Daenera’s hair, diligently removing all traces of dried blood. Her touch was gentle, working to undo the knots and tangles, squeezing out the water as she went along.

The room was pierced by the sound of the doors moving, the noise echoing through the silent chamber. Though Daenera’ couldn’t discern who had entered, she presumed it was Jelissa returning with the anticipated bucket of ice, and when Joyce noted where to put the bucket, it was confirmed.

Joyce meticulously wrung the water from Daenera’s hair before carefully wrapping it in a soft piece of cotton cloth. Daenera eased herself back onto her haunches, her neck aching from the prolonged position and her head pounding as the rush of blood throbbed in her skull. With assistance, she rose to her feet and padded across the cold floor to reach her alchemy corner, where she intended to prepare the poultice for her injured back.

Meanwhile, Joyce and Jelissa operated in perfect coordination, spreading a warm blanket out in the sunlit corner of the room, creating a comfortable resting spot for Daenera. In a methodical and efficient manner, they began the task of cleaning the bed chamber, stripping away the bloodied blanket and sheets to erase all traces of the horrifying ordeal.

As Daenera prepared the poultice, a sense of solace washed over her, offering a brief respite from her frayed nerves. She gripped the dried mountain-bane with purpose, crushing it roughly within the mortar. With equal determination, she searched through the chest of drawers for her the comfrey she needed, halting at the drawer with dried willow bark, which she promptly shoved into her mouth, throwing a few pieces on the table, before finding and introducing comfrey to the mix, her movements unhurried as she continued to grind it down. Finally, she added marigold , crushing the flower and stem.

Turning her attention away from the mortar, Daenera gathered branches of witch hazel, painstakingly peeling away the bark with a herbal knife before meticulously cutting it into smaller pieces. These, too, joined the other ingredients within the mortar. She exerted force against the dried herbs, each stroke edging a frown onto her face.

Reaching for a branch of aloe, Daenera severed it from the plant. With care, she split it open, revealing the gel-like interior. She scooped out the jelly and added it to the herbal mixture, then proceeded to blend everything together, stirring it until it formed a thick, mush consistency.

Daenera shifted the mortar aside, making space for another one designated for her tea. With a deliberate hand, she searched the shelves for the bowl full of crushed turmeric , which she then deposited a spoonful of into the mortar, followed by crushed ginger, dried camomile, willow bark, and dried nettles. Her movements were gentle, yet purposeful, attempting not to shift the sore muscles of her back too much.

Once satisfied, she carefully gathered the dried herbs, placing them into a piece of cloth. With a deft hand, she tied a leather string securely around the bundle, ensuring the fragrant concoction would steep properly in the hot water.

Daenera spat out the chewed willow bark, adding it to the poultice and stirring it together with the rest of the mush, swallowing the lingering, bitter pieces that remained in her mouth.

“Joyce,” Daenera called out for her faithful servant, who promptly returned to the room.

With great effort, Daenera shifted the robe off her body. The once-soft fabric now felt like coarse wool, scraping painfully across her back. As she peeled the robe away, the material clung to the cold sweat on her skin, causing a sensation akin to tearing off a bandage. Upon seeing the extent of her injuries, Joyce drew in a sharp breath. Daenera could practically feel the air shift, its attention like a thousand tiny needles pricking at her sore flesh.

In the background, a choked sob escaped Jelissa’s lips, but she seemed to stifle the rest of her emotions, the rustling of fabric indicating that she was composing herself once more.

“How bad is it?” Daenera inquired, her voice trembling with worry.

Joyce examined the injuries and then answered, her tone strained as she spoke, “Bruises mostly. Minor scrapes, but thankfully no lacerations… I’m not sure about scarring, though.”

Upon hearing the assessment, Daenera felt as though she had swallowed a heavy stone. She pursed her lips tightly in an effort to hold back tears, determined to remain composed. Slowly, she made her way to the half-circle of mirrors, her movements slightly painful as she craned her neck to catch a glimpse of her own back.

Joyce’s assessment was painfully accurate. Daenera’s once-pale skin was now marred by angry red and purple stripes, their hue so dark they appeared almost black. The skin looked raw and inflamed, swollen and tender, stretched over strained muscles and fragile bones.

Daenera discarded the remnants of her dress, recognizing that the ruined fabric was better suited for the flames rather for patching or mending.

With weary resolve, she gingerly lowered herself onto the blankets that had been spread out to bask in the streaming son from the open doors of the balcony. Her back muscles felt just as raw and sore as the skin itself, throbbing and protesting every movement.

Joyce knelt beside Daenera, delft stretching a piece of linen gauze over the expanse of her injured back. She then began to apply the cool poultice with great care. Daenera drew in a fraught breath through clenched teeth, attempting to relax despite the searing pain that surged through her. Her eyes pressed closed, her hands curled by her head, fingers digging into her palms as she sought to endure the pain.

Joyce carefully spread the mushy poultice across Daenera’s back, then layered another piece of linen over it. She hesitated before asking, “Are you certain you need the ice?”

Daenera nodded, her expression one of determination, despite knowing that the application of ice would likely be as agonizing as the leather whipping had been. “It will help with the swelling and bruising.”

Joyce was about to voice her concerns about using ice while in a state of shock, but Daenera cut her off with a pointed glance. The princess was well aware of the conventional wisdom that advised keeping the body warm in such situations to avoid placing undue stress on the internal organs, especially the heart. However, given the severity of her injuries, she needed the swelling to subside as much as possible to regain some semblance of mobility without unbearable pain.

“Sing for me,” Joyce ordered, pulling the bucket of ice towards her, the wood scraping over the floor.

Daenera blinked in surprise. “What?”

Joyce’s voice was firm as she repeated, “Sing for me, so I know you haven’t passed out. If you do, I’ll remove the ice and bring you to the fire, and I swear, I will slap you awake.”

A wheeze escaped Daenera’s lungs, caught somewhere between a strained laugh and a painful moan. “Fine, fine… Any requests?”

“How about ‘The Bear and the Maiden Fair?’” Jelissa quipped from the bedchamber, her lithe form emerging as she carried a bundle of sheets in her arms, her nose still tinged red from her sniffles.

Daenera, her voice dry, denied the request with a simple, “No.”

“Why would you even ask then?” Jelissa grumbled, dumping the sheets by the door before rejoining the room.

A sharp, raspy breath escaped Daenera’s lips as she felt the first piece of ice being placed on her back, followed quickly by the next. The cold seeped through the layers and into her heated skin, the stark contrast sending prickling, agonizing pain coursing through her. She closed her eyes again, pressing her forehead against the floor and longed for nothing more than Aemond’s gentle touch.

“Sing,” Joyce ordered, her voice unwavering, as she continued to pile on the ice.

In the land of dragons and knights, Dwelled a queen with silver wings so gracefully. Alysanne Targaryen, her name renowned,A loving heart, in her kingdom she was crowned, The Good Queen Alysanne.

But oh, the sorrow that life would bestow, A tragic tale of woe, Mothers heartbreak, The Stranger she would know. Good Queen Allysanne, your heart so pure and free,

In the game of life, you lost so tragically.

Silverwing, her loyal dragon, took flight, A sister’s gift, a bond shining bright. Yet, shadows fell upon her life’s sweet grace,

As tragedy and sorrow marked her place.

Children lost, like stars that fade away, Each one a treasure, taken by fate’s cruel sway. From Aegon’s brief days to Daenerys’ cold end,

Her heartache and grief, no one could mend.

But oh, the sorrow that life would bestow, A tragic tale of woe, a Mothers heartbreak, The Stranger she would know. Good Queen Allysanne, your heart so pure and free,

In the game of life, you lost so tragically.

Daenera’s voice quivered as her body trembled violently, her teeth chattering together as she struggled to sing, her sentences labored. Her hands remained tightly clenched, and she fought to breath through the biting cold that seemed to seep into her very bones.

From Aemon’s crossbow to Viserra’s fall,Each loss an echo, a mournful call.A mother’s tears, a father’s despair,

As the weight of grief they were forced to bear.

Gael, in her innocence, met a watery grave, A stillborn son, a heart she couldn’t keep. With each passing child, a piece of her heart,

Torn apart by fate’s unrelenting arrow.

But oh, the sorrow that life would bestow, A tragic tale of woe, Mothers heartbreak, The Stranger she would know. Good Queen Alysanne, your heart so pure and free,

In the game of life, you lost so tragically.

Thirteen children born, some too frail to thrive,A garden of flowers, only a few would survive,In tears of grief, she begged the gods, For her children to keep.In the end, she found solace in her Spring Prince’s smile, But shadows they linger, and dance in the night.Only memories to keep her warm, in the cold winds of winter,The Mother she mourns, and hold her children tight, The funeral pyre, burning ever so bright.

But oh, the sorrow that life would bestow, A tragic tale of woe, a Mothers heartbreak, The Stranger she would know. Good Queen Allysanne, your heart so pure and free,

In the game of life, you lost so tragically.

In the annals of time, your story is told, A queen of love, with a heart of gold. The Good Queen Alysanne, your tale we sing,

In the echoes of history, your memory will cling.

By noon, Daenera was dressed in a loose gown that featured a high neck and long sleeves, sitting in the gardens in the company of Helaena, Kaylys and Tris.

#hotd #aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #aemond fanfiction #hotd aemond #aemond x reader #aemond x oc #hotd fanfic #A Vow of Blood

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wyatt-06 · 5 months

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Here's how to cut your dog's nails hassle-free: A step-by-step guide

How often do you cut your dog's nails? Once every two or three months, or are you planning to do this for the first time? Keeping your pet's claws in perfect condition is crucial to their health and playtime safety. Many pet parents don’t know how to cut a dog’s nails.

As a pet parent, you must check the length of your dog's nails and give them timely clippings. Ignoring your dog's nail length may cause them a lifetime of pain. Pet nail trimming can be challenging initially, but with the right tools and the appropriate method, you can trim your dog's nails at home. ABK Grooming brings you a complete, step-by-step, and detailed process for nail trimming, and after reading this, you will be equipped with the knowledge of, "How to cut a dog’s nail at home or a grooming parlor?

Why Do You Need To Cut Your Dog’s Nails?

Dog nail trimming is crucial for their health and comfort. The most common reason is that long nails make them uncomfortable walking, and thus dogs make awkward postures as they walk.

It leads to sprains in the paws and may cause severe injuries in the back. Sometimes, the nail may also curl up and bury itself into the skin, leading to pain and a potential infection.

Another reason is that dog's nails have living tissue, called quick, that grows along with their nails. If you don’t trim them in time, the tissue keeps extending, making it even more difficult to cut or maintain a healthy length.

Thus, it is very crucial to trim their nails. Usually, you would need to cut the nails every 2-3 weeks or once a month, depending on your dog’s growth and playing habits. You can determine if your dog needs a trim using the following methods:

How Do We Know It’s Time To Trim The Dog’s Nail?

As soon as we see their nails extending the pads of their paws, it’s time for the trim. There are two simple ways through which you can recognize the need for nail clipping:

Their nails touch the floor as they stand straight on the ground.

You hear a tap-tap sound as they walk around the room.

This is when you should grab the pet nail grinders, pet nail cutter, other required tools and plan for the nail-clipping session.

ABK Grooming Tools You Need To Trim Your Dog’s Nail

Pet parents should be very careful when choosing trimming tools. Professional groomers recommend using only high-quality tools for a peaceful nail-clipping session. Picking up the premium quality trimming tools is essential, especially for first-timers, to be comfortable and confident in using these instruments. You will need the following tools to cut your dog’s nails:

1. Clippers:-

Scissor clippers are most commonly used since they are easy to use. It requires manual strength to cut the nail. A quality clipper is essential as they come with a safety lock, a limiter, and a no-slip rubber grip.

You can buy Trixie’s Nail Clipper for small dogs or Andis Nail Clippers for large dogs.

2. Grinder:-

Pet Nail Grinders come with a rotating head to grind the nail down. It can be less stressful to use since it trims off a small section of nails at a time. They are also helpful when shaping after the clipping. However, many dogs may get scared by the noise trimmers make but ABK Grooming has a nail grinder that makes less noise, link below.

You can buy Aeolus Pet Nail Grinder which grinds all sizes of nails smoothly, quickly and efficiently.

3. Styptic Powder:-

You should only cut the nails at home with Styptic or silver nitrate powder. During the clipping, there are chances of accidentally cutting the tissue, which causes bleeding. Styptic powder stops the bleeding and makes the dog feel relieved.

With the right tools in your hand, we are all set to learn the method that will make you feel confident about clipping the nails off.

How To Cut A Dog’s Nail?

Before understanding the step-by-step process to cut your dog’s nails, let’s find out the formation of your dog’s nails.

Inside the nails of dogs, there is a living tissue called the quick. This tissue can be observed easily by looking at the nail in the torch light. It shows a light pink coloration that doesn’t extend to the tip. This is our cutting limit. Nothing more or nothing less, just till the quick (or a pink fleshy muscle) is visible.

However, with black nails, you cannot see this tissue. In this case, you should place the dog on a flat surface and trim the nails using the Aeolus Pet Nail Grinder. Grind it till the fleshy part is visible from the bottom view.

Now let’s look at the steps to dog's nail cutting at home without hurting them.

Step 1: Familiarize Your Dog With The Clippers And Tools.

Ensure that your dog’s are comfortable and familiar with the pet nail cutters by touching their paws and nails.

You can do this by letting them smell the nail clippers or pet nail grinders and giving them the treat when they do. Do this for at least a few days before the trim day.

Step 2: Create A Relaxed Environment And Make Your Dog Comfortable In That Place.

They may resist and get afraid or uncomfortable. Use encouraging words and talk to them to make them feel assured.

Our main goal is to make the nail cutting process easy by keeping ourselves and them happy.

Step 3: Grab A Nail To See The Pink Tissue And Know How Far To Cut.

Observe the angle you need to cut from based on the natural shape of the paws.

If your dog’s nails are black, use the Aeolus pet nail grinder. Simply turn it on and place the nail in the instructed part. Now carefully trim the nail till the fleshy part starts showing up in the bottom view.

Step 4: Place The Clipper And Cut The Nail In A Quick And Safe Motion.

Beware, at this time, your dog may instinctively move his paws. Also, if you take too long, your dog may get nervous and resist.

Step 5: Repeat The Same With Other Nails.

If you accidentally cut too much, stay calm. Stop the bleeding with powder and reassure the dog that they are also calm.

Step 6: Reward Your Doggo Boy Or Girl

After nail trimming, reward your boy or girl with some treat, warm cuddles, and playtime.

Things To Keep In Mind During Clipping:`

If during the process you feel nervous or unprepared, stop right away. You may resume the process later when you feel confident or prefer visiting the professionals.

At times if your pet resists, you may need to be forceful. You can take someone’s help in holding the dog.

You can trim the hairs between the paws before cutting the nails.

Cut the nails till the tissue (the quick) because if you don’t, it will start extending. This may result in serious health problems for your furry.

Use words of encouragement and reassurance during the nail cutting session, so they associate the experience positively.

Be patient and positive, as it may take time for your dog to get used to the routine.

Use clippers or nail grinders that are dog specific.

Touch their paws and nails regularly so they get used to being handled.

Taking Care Of Your Dog’s Health

These beautiful souls fill our life with joy and fulfillment. And so keeping them healthy and active becomes our responsibility. Keep your dog healthy by regularly consulting the vet for early prevention and by maintaining their hygiene and sanitation. Now, this is where grooming plays a crucial role.

Cleaning them up and brushing away all that buildup can be fantastic for your dog’s hygiene and smell. You can buy an Andis Slicker brush to remove tangles and matting and reduce the shedding of hairs by 90%.

Give them regular bathing using the finest quality shampoos and conditioners. Pick the ideal shampoo based on understanding the pet’s skin concerns, such as sensitive skin, dry skin, hypo-allergic pets, antibacterial properties, skin hydration, and other significant issues. Professionals love using Hydra Shampoos and conditioners for the best results. You can now buy one for grooming your dog at home without compromising the quality.

ABK Grooming has a range of top grooming products to pick from. Shop only premium imported grooming products based on your pet’s needs and give them the love they deserve.

Shop now from ABK Grooming!

FAQs on “How to cut a dog’s nail?”:

How to cut a dog’s nail at home step by step?

Step 1: Familiarize your dog with the clippers and tools.

Step 2: Create a relaxed environment and make your dog comfortable in that place.

Step 3: Grab a nail to see the pink tissue (Quick tissue) and know how far to cut.

Step 4: Place the clipper and cut the nail in a quick and safe motion.

Step 5: Repeat the same with other nails.

Step 6: Reward your doggo boy or girl

Can I use a human nail cutter on my dog?

Human nail cutters are flat, and it can cause a big harm for your pet. Dog’s nail should be cut at a 45 degree angle.

How deep should I cut the dog’s nail?

After looking concentratedly at the dog’s nail, you will see a pink line (It’s a dog tissue named Quick). You should cut the nail without touching the quick line.

When should I cut the dog’s nail?

Whenever the dog’s nails touch the floor as they stand straight on the ground or you hear a tap-tap sound when they are walking on the floor. It's the perfect time to cut a dog's nails.

#pet care #pets #pet grooming #dog #pet fashion #dog grooming

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toji-bunny-girl · 3 years

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𝐉𝐉𝐊 𝐌𝐞𝐧: 𝐁𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐀𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐬 + 𝐂𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐃𝐈𝐋𝐅 𝐁𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐏𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐬

Gojo Satoru

→ seriously jealous of him because he never gain weight despite eating all the junk and having two person's serving a meal 😐 his metabolism is just that good

→ with that said, it's pretty difficult for him to get at least a little bulky without the fats he need so it's kind of a blessing and a curse at the same time

→ even if he eventually gained a little bit more muscles, they'll be gone if he doesn't do his routine every day

→ skinny arms, skinny legs

→ long arms, long legs, long torso, long c— 😏

→ long fingers as well with cotton soft palms that he likes to compare to yours

→ but srsly why is everything about him so long??!

→ his shoe size is really big compared to the average male so it's a lil hard to find the right shoes for him (he has taste but what abt the size?)

DILF body points = 3/10

"did I just described a twink?"

Toji Fushiguro

→ no one:

Toji's body: ▽ *inverted triangle*

→ when I say he's huge, I mean that he's huge HUGE

→ tall, thick ass mf arms and thighs, broad shoulders, the stiffest abs humanity has ever known, thicc lifted ass and muscles under his back that flexes every time he even moves the slightest??? 😫😫

→ never forget his hard-metal-steel titties that radiates warmth within 5km radius <33

→ scratch that, his whole body radiates so much heat you'd scramble away from him during the summertime and latch yourself onto him like a second skin during the wintertime

→ plus his lil tummy, a little bulgy but still firm from the packs 🥺

→ very veiny arms and hands

→ has a few veins on his hips running down his thighs as well 💞🥴

→ super rough palms and he likes to hold your softer ones because of that

→ his body is also covered in scars that's been there for years :((

→ always cut his nails too short

→ wrinkles around his eyes from his age 😋 *mmm*

DILF body points = 10/10

"he was a dilf to begin with"

Getou Suguru

→ he has a pretty similar build as Gojo but a little bit more muscular

→ broad shoulders 😋

→ doesn't have as much veins as Toji but his hands are still bigger than the other men's here

→ pretty nails! slim and healthy, looks really good with nail polish on (especially black or dark green)

→ long legs, strong calves <33

→ super moisturised skin because you can't tell me he doesn't apply lotion every night before he sleeps 💀💀

→ m-moles on his back 😩😩

→ slight wrinkles on his forehead whenever he moves his eyebrows

→ doesn't comb his hair and only uses conditioner whenever he wants

→ his hair grows rather slowly so the trip to the hairdresser isn't so frequent

DILF body points = 6/10

"he could've gotten more points if only he was older"

Nanami Kento

→ his adam's apple tho 🥺 so bulgy and hot

→ loves the way it bobs up and down whenever he talks and especially the groan he makes whenever you suck or kiss it

→ sensitive tummy to touch 🥺🥺 don't touch him there/tickle him or he'll chokehold you fr 🥺🥺

→ manly arms?? strong with one or two short veins there and he gives pretty good hugs <33

→ also can't forget about that blonde arm and leg hair 🥺

→ thick fingers, calloused, wonder what he could do with them 👀

→ another one with a hot back, muscly and wide

→ there's a vein on the side of his forehead that pops out a little whenever he speaks louder or is using his strength

→ stubby chin 💞

→ random but he has a really stiff neck so whenever he massages himself, the way his biceps flex and his head rolling a little to the side with his eyes shut while letting out a soft groan is so fucking sekc

DILF body points = 8/10

"nice try, could've tricked us, but if only you were a real dilf"

Sukuna Ryomen

→ thick thighs, muscly thighs, delicious thighs

→ strong and heavy upper arms

→ his hands are always so warm for no reason?? 💀

→ also has a super firm grip

→ sometimes, his whole mf fingernail falls out because they're too long but he can always grow them back ne way

→ yes, he does check his nails whenever he's bored

→ he (Itadori's body) is relatively short being only 173 cm so his figure looks quite muscular

→ lil bit of chubby cheeks but with a really defined jawline!!

→ his lil canines too 🥺

→ long tongue goes *BRRRRRRRRRR*

DILF body points = 4/10

"get your real body back and we'll talk"

TAGLIST― @otivez @kakashisbook @shrynkk @apchmon (reply under my WIP post if you're interested in joining my taglist!)

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sukirichi · 3 years

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sweet lies [02]

His lies were way too sweet – and you were too addicted to make him stop.

cw. explicit smut, slight body worship, public sex, dirty talk, praising, toxic megumi, fwb dynamics, slight angst, body marking, sukuna bullying megumi, age gap, scratching, mentions of oral (m receiving) and mutual masturbation, the traditional unedited fic

note. choose your fighter, megumi or sukuna 😈 also UHM do you guys want me to make the ending angsty or fluffy? i wrote out two versions so LOL let me know what you think! we’ll get more of the megumi scenes on the next chapter though~

series masterlist | 01 | 02 | 03

Sukuna isn’t kidding when he said he’ll have you unable to walk by the end of this.

You’ve lost count of how many times you guys have fucked.

Once more in the stalls when you thought of repaying the favor by sucking him off, followed by him growing impatient and hauling you inside his car. Both of you were too tired to go for another round, but were still very much addicted for the other’s touch that mutual masturbation seems like the best option.

Thankfully, Sukuna’s cut his nails, so having three of his fingers buried knuckle deep in you feels like absolute heaven. He’s not complaining about your smooth hands wrapped around his shaft either, especially not when you’ve had enough practice with Megumi to know just how to make a guy lose his mind. By the time you’ve made it back home, Sukuna’s grown hard again, too impatient to make it to the bed before he just fucks you raw against the wall. You’re trembling at his hold, left with no choice but to trust his strength to drop you on his cock and bounce you to his pleasure.

It’s a miracle you’ve made it on the bed.

His digital clock reads a quarter at three in the morning, and for a moment, you worry about how tired you’ll be in class tomorrow when Sukuna’s large hands grips your thighs sharply.

“Goddamn,” he hisses through clenched teeth, chuckling at the irresistible sight of your breasts bouncing before him. Limbs tangled, minds controlled with the primal need to fuck, and moans shared with his deep grunts – you somehow end up on top of him, your thighs feeling like they’re on the verge of giving up as you continue to ride his thick length.

“You are so fucking sexy,” he slaps your ass and causes your hips to rut deeper, forcing that delicious curve of his cock to meld with your walls. You throw your head back, palms planted on his chest, focused only on that burning pleasure between your thighs. “I could fuck you all night long.”

Even though you truly have no wish to, you shake your head, fingers balling into a fist. “I have class tomorrow, need to wake up early,” you protest, the words falling into deaf ears as Sukuna thrusts up into you. He must’ve noticed how you’re growing tired and took matters into his own hands, feet grounded on the mattress to pound deliriously into you. You’re debating whether to be thankful or frustrated he still has so much energy even after hours of fucking, but it honestly doesn’t matter. You’re falling into his chest, arms slipping on your equally sweat-covered bodies. Right now, you just wanted to cum – once more, again, one last time! “Ah, Sukuna, t-too much!”

“Too much?” he laughs and tangles his hand to caress your scalp, the gesture too soothing that you almost forgot he’s fucking you into oblivion. “Want me to go slow?”

“No…”

“Thought so, sweetheart,” his grin is absolutely cocky as he bends his knees in a fold, pushing you until your back rests on his muscular thighs. Your mouth falls open at his hands wrapping around your threat, keeping you right there, hips flat and grinding on his cock. “Come on. Come for me,” Sukuna urges, tightening his hold around your neck a little harder.

That’s all you need for your vision to blur and see stars, your body’s shaking uncontrollable. He’s thrusting with all his power and energy that it feels like you’re nothing but a hole on top of him, tongue falling open in a wanton manner as your drool trails down your chin.

You look filthy, you feel filthy, and yet, Sukuna sees it entirely different.

“So – fucking – gorgeous, fuck. I woulda fucked you sooner if I didn’t feel weird about it.”

“What?”

“Aw, come on, sweetheart,” he smirks at your half fucked out state. Sukuna rolls his hips in such a mind numbing manner that you end up staring at the ceiling, trying your hardest to decipher the colors of his room to get a grip of yourself. But he feels so hot, cock throbbing and pulsing inside you, your puffy lips encasing him with a translucent ring of cum and it feels so fucking good you don’t really understand what he’s saying anymore. “Did you really think I never saw you in my dreams?” he slaps your ass again, the reflexive response of tightening around him pulling a deep groan from the beautiful man beneath you. “I have such a sexy roommate, I couldn’t help it.”

“Then why didn’t you – ah, right there, shit – tell me?”

“Cuz,” he snickers and finally lets you breathe, your pupils blowing wide from the sudden flow of air. Sukuna kneads your breasts greedily, never stopping his mind-numbing rhythm of ramming deep into you. Your body burns, your thighs ache, your pussy feels sensitive but you can’t find the energy to stop him. Instead, you fall prey, failing in your mission to keep him wrapped around your fingers because now you’re wrapped around his cock, and you were quite fucking addicted to it. “You’re my friend’s student. Felt so fucking wrong.”

“What’s the difference now?”

“The difference is,” Sukuna’s face contorts into something of discomfort for a moment before he leans forward, his sturdy grip homing in on your hips again. You feel his searing breath on your ear, so parching it puts the warmth of your pussy to shame. “Having you like this has never felt so right, and I’ll keep fucking you if you let me.”

“I-I’d let you,” you concede absentmindedly and capture his lips for a sloppy kiss, tongues giving up on a battle of dominance. You’re always so clingy when you’re about to come, something Megumi never fails to chastise you for, and you fear Sukuna might push you away as you wrap an arm around him, nails painfully scratching down his back. Red marks leave a trail on its wake until his blood pierces through the sheets, the pain manifested through the increasing roughness of his pace. Now it’s your turn to whimper in his ear, pulling the man close and tugging harshly at the ends of his hair. Gosh, were you actually crying? “Sukuna, I’m close! Yes, yes, right there!”

Sukuna groans at the erotic sounds you reward him with. “Come for me, that’s right, ohhhh,” he stills inside you, his seed spilling deep inside you. You wince at the burst of warmth spreading all over your belly and Sukuna chuckles at your bulging belly. He presses down on it to coax his cum to trickle all over his cock, and he’s fucking filthy – you learn easily – to watch you make a mess on his cock with a childish smile on his face.

You push yourself off him and fall to his side, him following suit not long afterwards. The room feels completely stuffed from your intense fucking, the bruises on your body and scratches on his back a huge attestment to that.

Your legs remain wide open as you clench around nothing, his cum oozing out like a waterfall. Sukuna (that damned pervert) dips two fingers into your hole for one last moment just to drench his fingers in it, his eyes lit up in wonder while he lets it web around his fingers. You snicker at his actions and roll to his side, eyes fluttering close from the wave of exhaustion that comes into full force.

The lingerie set you intended to wear for Megumi was now ripped at the other side of the room, discarded, forgotten – merely evidence of a moment that had never been given to him.

Oddly enough, you don’t feel bad, not even when Sukuna faces you, his cheeks squished by his soft pillows. “I’m spent. I don’t think I’ve ever been this tired. My gym sessions can’t compare to this.”

“You go to the gym?”

“Yeah. I wasn’t born this gorgeous, you know. I had to work hard for this,” Sukuna gestures to his body. You can’t help but follow the gestures and admire the hard planes of his muscle ripped above one another, the smatter of dark hair leading down his hips adding to his already immense sexual charisma. It makes you want to jump on him all over again, and you have to bite your lip to resist that urge, rolling your eyes at him in favor of letting him know you could totally go for another round.

“Dork.”

“Got me laid though, was worth the effort,” he jokes, and you both laugh.

It’s actually…weird, to laugh so casually with someone like this. It might be normal for Sukuna in his past sexual endeavors, but it’s totally a different thing for you. You and Megumi had never even bothered with aftercare. As long as he’s satisfied himself, he’d clean himself off in the bathroom and wear his sweatpants, winking at you before he leaves you alone all over again. The memory – albeit not really a regrettable one – is still painful each time you’re reminded you’ll keep coming back to him.

But are things different now? Could you go back to Megumi? You only ever wanted to fuck Sukuna because you’re sad and horny, but it wouldn’t be fair to him, especially when your roommate has been nothing but nice to you. Besides, him being a little more decent doesn’t immediately equate he’s different than Megumi.

For all you know, you could just be another cheap fuck. Sukuna is older and sexier, after all, he’s clearly had a lot more experience than you do.

As if reading your mind, Sukuna rests his head on his palms, elbows flat on the bed as he turns to you. The expression on his face is unreadable, but there’s some sort of softness behind it – a softness you’re not really familiar with.

“Hey. I don’t exactly know what you’re going through, not everything, anyway, but whatever we have right now, I want you to know it’s not because I see just as a pretty pussy, okay?” he says with a straight face, but you really shouldn’t have gotten your hopes up because Sukuna smirks, mischievous eyes darting back and forth to your soaked pussy and bare breasts. “Although you do have a pretty pussy. Can I eat you out again?”

With that, you snatch the pillow underneath him and whack it straight at his face. Sukuna laughs at your protests, the sound growing louder and a lot more mocking the harder you hit him. “Gosh, Sukuna, shut up!”

You end up hitting him way too many times in the face that he can’t get his words through, and before you could react, Sukuna’s ripped the pillow away from you. He cages you in his arms and hovers over you once more, his boneless dick grazing the insides of your thigh. It’s not meant to be sexual, and nothing about his stance gives off anything that shows he wants to do it again, but you can’t help but feel aroused, shifting your legs up and down the bed as you squirm.

“Seriously though,” he repeats, “We can be casual, or this could be a one time thing. Card’s all yours to play. If you want to forget everything tomorrow, I’d gladly do it. Let’s just go back to the way we were-”

“Sukuna.”

“Yes?”

“Did you really think I was only using you to distract myself?”

Sukuna’s lips flatten into a line. “I’m not stupid,” he says somberly, “I could tell you were still thinking about him. Not that I mind, though, you can’t stop yourself from loving someone,” Faintly, you’re distracted by his thumbs rubbing at your pulse point. It’s so lulling you want to fall asleep, but Sukuna isn’t done talking. “My point is…you don’t have to worry about being weird with me. We could just be friends with benefits, if you want, and not the kind you have with your boy toy either. ”

His blatantly catches you off guard and your eyes widen before they narrow at him, trying your best to hide your embarrassment. If Megumi was painfully honest, Sukuna’s ridiculously blunt that his mere words make your heart do weird things you’d rather not feel.

Careful, you remind yourself, Megumi is the one you want. You have to keep reminding yourself that before your feelings get the best of you. It’s Megumi, it’s always been Megumi and it always will be Megumi. Sukuna is just your roommate who’s nice enough to take your mind off things. You only wish you weren’t lying too much in case he gets the wrong idea you’re leading him on, but then again, isn’t that what you’re doing?

Friends with benefits or not – you still have no plans on getting involved with this guy any longer.

It’s always Megumi. You just really needed a quick fuck, someone whose dick didn’t belong with the guy you’re so hung up on over. The change feels nice and you definitely feel a lot better than the last time you met Megumi, but this guilt…it tastes bitter on your tongue, too heavy to swallow and ignore. It’s always Megumi, you tell yourself again in an attempt to relieve your pain.

Though it doesn’t subside and you huff in exasperation, turning away from Sukuna. You can’t stand looking at him right now.

“I’m not,” you mumble weakly, but the tears – the guilt, the heartbreak of not being Megumi’s lover, the regret and the ironic need to be closer to Sukuna feels all so confusing – all threaten to burst through. You don’t want him to see you cry, that would be lame, so you scoot closer to him and kiss his shoulder as you shyly ask, “C-can we cuddle?”

“Of course,” he chuckles, pulling you closer, “You don’t have to sound too nervous to ask.”

“Sorry, it’s just-”

“He never does that?”

“…Yeah.”

“Well, I’m not him,” Sukuna answers confidently, surprising you when he grabs your ass to press you flush against him. You’re both sweaty and hot to the point it’s uncomfortable, but Sukuna smells so sweet with his lingering cologne that you can’t help yourself from planting your face in his neck, breathing in the little hums he makes. Sukuna kisses the crown of your head – which is a little too sweet than you’d like – while his other hand runs down your back in a slow, sensual manner. Hell, it feels close to body worshipping, and you hate that you silently want more of this. “I’d cuddle you every day if you asked me to.”

“You’re surprisingly sweet,” you voice with a smile. Sukuna’s chest rumbles from the low laughter, and like that, you cling to him like he’s the only sturdy pillar in your life. It’s pathetic, maybe even desperate, but if he doesn’t mind, then why should you?

However, the moment is quickly ruined when the bell rings. “Shit, I forgot he was coming over!”

Sukuna glares at the door and holds you tighter, almost possessively, and refuses to let you go even as you squirm under him. “At three in the morning?”

“Yes, but I don’t want to meet him right now,” you groan helplessly.

Sukuna shoots you a blank look after that, then shoots out of the bed in an instant. You watch as he quickly dresses up in a fresh pair of sweatpants, grabbing a random hoodie from the back of his chair, presumably to hide the scratch marks. You have to hide your smile behind your hand because he looks so drool-worthy with marks littered on his already marked skin, and the fact he lets you mark him is even hotter.

He pauses at the door for a moment, pointing a finger at where you peered up at him curiously. “Stay there. I’ll talk to him and say you went out or whatever. Just make sure to silence your phone in case he calls. Better yet, turn it off.”

Sukuna closes the door behind him, already on the way to the entrance just as you press your ears against the door to eavesdrop. There’s a slight shuffling before the door unlocks, then, “Why the fuck did you lock-” Megumi pauses in his words, and you can perfectly picture his infamous scowl painting his handsome features already. Gosh, you wish you could actually see it, but if Megumi catches you sleeping with someone else, he might totally lose interest in you. That’s not something you could afford to happen.

“Oh. You’re her roommate.” You snigger at his usual what the fuck tone – how Megumi of him.

“Hey, kid, it’s a little too late for a visit, don’t you think?” Sukuna taunts, and it takes everything in you to not burst through the door at that moment. You’re stuck between wanting to laugh and crying, mostly because you would love and hate for Megumi to get riled up. “Do your parents know you’re here? Kids shouldn’t be out this late.”

“I’m not a fucking kid, I’m in uni,” he defends, “Do you know where Y/N is? I need to talk to her.”

Deciding fuck it, you open the door by an inch, just enough to peek. As expected, Megumi is glaring behind Sukuna’s shoulders in search of you. Meanwhile, Sukuna’s completely calm, checking his nails boredly as if Megumi isn’t fuming in front of him. And boy, do you know how much Megumi hates being ignored. “Oh, I think she went out, I don’t know why though. House was empty when I got here.”

“She didn’t tell you where she was going?”

At Megumi’s imposing tone, Sukuna tilts his head to scrutinize Megumi. Now that you’re seeing them together, Sukuna’s twice the size of Megs, their height and shoulder width too different to start comparing. But knowing Megumi, he’s not going to back down from a tattooed guy twice his size, not even as he sarcastically remarks, “Ain’t you her friend? She should be telling you that kind of stuff.”

Truthfully, you expected he would put up more of a fight. The two of them share a heated staring competition before Megumi scoffs, the first one to look away. “Whatever,” he dismisses, “Tell her to pick her damn phone up. I’ve been calling for the past hour.”

“I think I should tell her to get better friends.”

“What was that?”

“I said get home safely,” Sukuna chirps. Even with his back turned to you, you could tell Sukuna’s just further pressing his buttons with a grin that’s not meant to be inviting at all. Just when you think it’s done, however, Sukuna finishes off with, “Kid.”

Megumi rages. His blue eyes flame into something feral, his fists balled at his sides. He’s always had a temper issue and you nearly reveal yourself to stop whatever fight is about to ensue, but Sukuna’s already closing the door, ridding any opportunity for the younger one to retaliate. At the sound of the door closing, Sukuna leans against the door, his smile still plastered on his face as if he knows you’re watching the whole time. He meets your eyes from the slight peep of his door, waving his hands sarcastically.

“Sukuna, you didn’t have to be so mean.”

“Sorry,” he isn’t apologetic at all. “Next time I’ll be nicer to your asshole crushes,” he adds with a slight roll of his eyes and you punch his chest playfully. You don’t stop him from grabbing your wrists to embrace you in a hug that doesn’t seem so platonic – but not so suggestive either. Sukuna rests his chin on top of your hand while he sways you both side to side, his voice muffled in your hair. “I understand why you’re attracted to him though. He’s really handsome.”

“Yeah, he is,” you agree sadly, thinking of how much it’s really all a waste Megumi has to be like that. “Just sucks his personality ruins everything.”

“A pretty face is always deceiving,” Sukuna suddenly pulls away and holds you an arm’s length away. “Hey, want to have early breakfast?”

“I think that would be late dinner,” you frown at him.

“Whatever, food is food,” he responds rather excitedly, and you watch as Sukuna rummages through the fridge. Now that you think about it, having sex so much really took a toll on you, and your stomach grumbles loudly. Sukuna hides his chuckles through the fridge but you hear him anyway, shouting at him that you’re not hungry. “Wasn’t asking, sweetheart. Now go get cleaned and changed, I’ll make something for you.”

If anyone were to tell you that a good fucking is all that’s needed for you to immediately form a new kind of friendship with your roommate, you’d call them weird. Sukuna isn’t necessarily out of reach, you and him just simply didn’t cross paths.

But now, you’re dressed comfortably in his boxers and the oversized shirt you stole from him, eating the slightly burn cheese sandwich he’s made, sharing conversation and laughing with him like you’ve been doing it for such a long time. Your sandwich is actually half forgotten on the plate as you whack your palms on the counter, “That’s how you and Prof Gojo met? I never would’ve expected you guys fought over a girl!”

“He was fucking annoying in high school,” Sukuna grumbles over an angry bite, “He was getting all the girls that when someone confessed to me, the hottest chick, no less, he straight up punched me in the face,” you laugh as you imagine the memory of a younger, already rebellious looking Sukuna getting smacked by the even more intolerable Gojo Satoru. Sukuna is lost in his own memories as well, shaking his head from around the last bites of his bread. It’s clear he hates the burnt crust judging from the way he turns a little green, but he’s bragged about his cooking skills so proudly that he has to save face in front of you. “Ah, such good times,” he muses before wincing at his own words, dropping his bread in disgust. “Damn, I sound old, don’t I?”

“You’re only like, five years older than me, it’s fine,” you giggle, “I like the maturity that comes with older people. You’re a lot easier to be with than guys my age.”

“Please,” Sukuna smirks, “Just say you like fucking older men. I won’t judge.”

If anyone were to tell you that you would be jumping over the counter to strangle your roommate who’s now running like hell, your laughter bursting through the once silent apartment, you would call them a liar. But now, you and Sukuna are panting on the floor, too tired from sprinting all around before calling it quits. Maybe it’s a lie – maybe this connection will never really be that much of a big deal – but as long as this lie and play pretend of friendship lasts, you’ll just enjoy every sweet moment of it.

taglist (lmk if you want to be added/removed) (bold can’t be tagged) @uwubby-1 @expectoscamander @your-consulting-fangirl @dora-the-grownup @cosmotoic @charlie-xo @kittaliapenn @sukunas-cult-leader @flowersgirl02 @cloudsinthecosmos @90s-belladonna @averysheart-raleighsdick @generousstudentpsychic-bat @kat-su-ki @issamomma

#sukuna x reader #sukuna x reader smut #ryoumen sukuna x reader #ryoumen sukuna x reader smut #sukuna smut #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader smut #sukuna x reader angst #sukuna x reader romance #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen x reader imagines #jjk #jjk x reader #sukuna x reader imagines #ryoumen sukuna imagines #sukuna imagines #sweet lies: part two

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ptergwen · 3 years

Note

hi I saw your requests were open if there not anymore you can completely ignore this :). but could you do a boyfriend!peter x reader where he loves it when reader gives him those little kisses on his nose and freckles with head scratches please. feel free to change or completely ignore this <3

thousands of tiny stars

pretend i haven’t used this

warnings: a couple suggestive jokes but the rest is just floofy fluff

a/n: i got carried away as per usual and i did end up changing it a tiny bit :/ emphasis on tiny tho lmfhsjfh you’ll see ! either way i hope you enjoy mwah

one thing about peter is that he absolutely can’t sit still under any given circumstances. he’s restless, like a burning ball of energy that’s brightness never dims.

because of this, he tries to and needs to keep himself occupied and be kept occupied every second of every day.

it’s sometimes playing with his fingers or your own, which peter prefers because he gets to hold your hand. other times, it’s tapping his favorite pink glitter pen relentlessly against the kitchen table while he conjures up homework answers.

aunt may isn’t very fond of that one.

this time, it’s constantly shuffling about the couch in the name of finding comfort.

peter starts off with an arm around your shoulders and a content grin on his face. you two agreed on mean girls for the first movie of your marathon, your head resting against peter’s chest as the tv steals your attention.

a few minutes in, peter decides he feels like being held rather than holding you. he sneaks his way down your body, lets himself nudge your thighs to wordlessly communicate what he wants. you of course oblige and switch positions accordingly.

peter lays his head in your lap, taking the opportunity to stare up at you instead of at the screen.

he finds himself shifting around again not too much later. now laying on the couch’s armrest on his side, he kicks his feet into your lap where his head just was.

you’re becoming slightly annoyed with his fidgeting. his explanations of sorry, just trying to get comfortable and innocent smiles are what stop you from complaining.

“that’s strike three, parker,” you joke, eyes leaving the movie to fix on him. peter crosses his arms over his chest. “i dunno what you’re talking about, y/l/n,” he insists. “i haven’t done anything remotely strike-worthy so far this evening.”

flicking his sock clad foot, you mutter your response. “debatable.” peter dismisses you with a huff. “whatever. c’mere… i miss you.” he makes grabby hands for you, like the big baby he is.

it’s quite endearing, though.

“i’m right here, pete,” you laugh out and return your gaze to mean girls. “and yet, you’re so far,” peter counters. “come gimme cuddles.”

you sigh lightheartedly, your ever so clingy boyfriend still reaching out for you. a smirk pulls at your lips.

“well, there’s an offer i can’t refuse.”

peter adjusts so he’s sitting criss cross, bouncing excitedly in his spot. his chocolate brown curls fall in all directions, form being swallowed by an oversized stark industries hoodie that he keeps having to roll up the sleeves of.

he looks so soft and snuggly in anticipation of your cuddle session. you can’t believe you were ever annoyed at him.

slightly annoyed.

he’s so eager that when you scoot the tiniest bit towards him, he literally pulls you into his lap. peter’s arms hug you around your lower back, you laughing quietly as he peppers a trail of kisses from your cheek to the side of your neck.

the movie long forgotten about, you wind your arms around his neck and tilt your chin up.

“pete?” you breathe out. peter pecks your cheek once more, then your other, beaming. “yeah, babe?” he wonders. with a half serious half teasing glare, you wonder, “are you comfy now?”

peter ponders your question, and from the skeptical furrowing of his eyebrows and biting of his lip, you have your answer. he’s about to make you regret asking.

it seems that as soon as you settle, peter gets antsy.

“uh, actually…” he strokes his thumb along the underside of your chin, smiling apologetically. “you mind if we lie down? ‘m kinda tired.” there it is. you roll your eyes. “how could you not be? you’ve been playing musical chairs all night.”

your words earn a chuckle from peter, though they’re at his expense. “this’ll be the last round, promise,” peter swears and seals the deal with a kiss to your chin, which is currently grasped between his fingers.

you know it won’t be. the game goes on forever with peter, unless you end it yourself.

“damn right, bug boy. move another inch after this and you can consider your cuddle privileges revoked,” you grumble, getting off of peter’s lap. he stares at you in pure horror, gasping. “you wouldn’t…” “i would,” you correct him.

not aiming to test that theory, peter quickly fumbles around and lays flat against the cushions. he wills himself to be stiff as a board. you seem satisfied with that, climbing on top of him with your face hovering above his.

peter sets his hands on your hips, grip strong. he closes the space between you both with a short kiss. you reciprocate and deepen it, turning short to long as your parted lips slot with his. his tongue darts out, already skimming over your bottom lip for more access.

you hum into his mouth and allow his tongue to slide in. peter kisses you so tenderly as he rubs circles on your hips, your fingers tangling in his locks simultaneously. you weave them up to his roots, using your nails to gently scratch at his scalp just the way he likes. he breaks the kiss to let out a noise close to a moan.

“that- that… oh, god yeah,” peter praises, his eyes fluttering closed. you’re amused at how easily pleased he is. “don’t cream your pants yet, pete. i’m just getting started,” you purr. peter squeezes your hips in response. “feels better than an orgasm, babe. i’m serious, too,” he murmurs.

you continue your handiwork in his hair and lean in for another kiss. peter merely pecks your lips before jerking away.

“wait, hold that thought,” he exhales a breathy laugh. “i gotta pee.”

he has to be kidding. again with this?

“oh no, you don’t,” you deadpan, pushing against his shoulders to hold him down. “oh yes, i do,” peter retorts. “let me go, y/n/n.”

peter could definitely slither out from underneath you if he truly wanted to. he has super strength, so the might of his teenage girlfriend doesn’t quite compare.

pinning him in place, you straddle his waist. “nope, you’re gonna stay. i’m not giving you a choice in the matter.” peter attempts to pry you off of him, but you won’t budge. “y/n, my bladder is gonna explode-“

he cuts himself off with a giggle when your lips begin to attack him. you kiss down the bridge of his nose lightly, peck each freckle dotting his skin, and the amount of them is infinite. peter’s fit of giggles continues as you smooch that pretty face of his, his cheeks dusted pink and hands coming up to support you by your sides.

he’s always been a little insecure about his freckles. they don’t suit him, there are too many of them, blah blah blah. you obviously couldn’t disagree more. you think they’re sick.

you’d once even told him they look like thousands of tiny stars, and peter does love stars. he also loves the kisses you tend to randomly surprise him with to remind him to appreciate his freckles the same way you do.

“okay, okay! i’ll stay!” peter concedes, you ruffling his hair and pressing a final kiss to the tip of his nose. he grins despite himself, and secretly wishes you wouldn’t stop. “but, if my kidneys fail… it’s on you.”

you pat his chest definitively.

“good thing you’re a fast healer.”

#peter parker #peter parker fluff #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker fic #peter parker smut #peter parker au #tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #tom holland imagine #tom holland fic #tom holland fanfiction

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nightowlfandom · 3 years

Text

Kanato Sakamaki- I’m Sadistic For You

FINALLY SOMEONE REQUESTS DIABOLIK LOVERS CONTENT AAAAHHH THANK YOU BESTIE! I GOT YOUR OTHER ONE AND I’M DOING IT TOO!

CHECKOUT MY MASTERLIST HERE!!

So ANON ASKS

For Kanato from DL ( I haven’t seen much done for him and it makes me sad because he’s a favorite ). (: I could Lowkey do some more if you’re not super bogged down I had another idea BUT I ALREADY SUBMITED ANOTHER BEFORE THIS SO IM NOT GONNA OVERWHELM YOU LOL but- anyway Fee free to be as nsfw with my prompts (if you do them) as you want. I dont have any triggers so- writing them super accurate and sadistic won’t bother me :3

Bruh....Jesus is my helmet...but NOT TODAY let’s fucking go! Okay readers, you heard, they aint got no triggers. So if you do...move it along.

52- “You can’t call me cute!”

80- “Shut up! I’m not blushing!”

31-“You need to be taught a lesson…”

81- “You look so...inviting all tied up.”

84- “What’s the word I’m looking for?....Pet!”

Also in this you and Yui are BFFs because she isn’t some cold hearted bitch (homegirl trips over oxygen, plus I love her lol)

I was legit about to have him spit in your mouth....I’m so shameful...maybe next time.

Leggo!

I’m turning into a Yandere account and I am totally okay with that.

...

“You know living here isn’t that bad.” you mused to Yui. “When no one is talking.”

Your friend laughed as she cut up some carrots. Yui turned to look at you as she prepare to peel some potatoes. “So living here is terrible every day other than right now?” she replied.

You couldn’t help but burst out laughing. She wasn’t wrong.

You and Yui were making dinner for the house. After a ambush that landed everyone injured except you and her (thankfully). You had offered to make soup and stew for everyone. They were all in their respective rooms healing while you had prepared everything.

“They really fought hard today, I thought Kanato was about to rip that vampires jaw off. He’s really protective of you, Y/N.” she winked. “I think he likes you more than he lets on.”

Kanato and you had a very strange relationship. He hated you, but he didn’t HATE you. No one could lay a finger on you, no one could even look at you, even if he said he didn’t care. Reiji tried to and Kanato almost murdered him.

“He then told me that Teddy said I was ugly.” you reminded her flatly. “Yeah he so cares.” you snorted.

“Maybe he has trouble telling you his feelings”

“I wish everyone was as optimistic as you.” you shook your head. “Looks like the soup is finished.”

“I’m just saying Y/N, just think about it.”

...

You only had one bowl of soup left to deliver, to Kanato’s room. You grumbled as you stood outside the door.

“Kanato? It’s me.” you knocked on the door. “I’m coming in okay?”

Before you could wait for an answer you opened the door and walked in with the cart.

Kanato was laying on his bed when you entered, groaning in what you assumed was boredom.

“Teddy, tell Y/N that I don’t want whatever she made.” Kanato turned away from you. The scars he had suffered on his back said it all. All for you...

Your recalled the terror in your voice as you had screamed for help as the rogue vampire wrapped his claws around your leg. Kanato’s name was the first to escape your lips as you had tried to crawl away to Yui. You remembered reaching out to Kanato with your strongest hand, begging him to save you.

The look in his eyes was feral as he screamed your name too, grabbing you hand and pulling you to him. You were sobbing into his chest, clutching onto him for dear life for a good ten seconds before Yui replaced him, hugging you tightly in her small arms too. Before you knew it, the rogue’s head had been thrown through a window...

...

“Y/N, Look at me! You’re safe now...you’re safe with me...”

...

“Teddy, could you please tell Kanato that while his pouting is very adorable, it won’t get him out of this?”

“Don’t call me cute! You can’t do that.” Kanato glared at you through hooded eyes. “If I wasn’t so weak I’d-”

“Well let me take care of you.” you cut him off, taking the bowl to him. “For me?”

Kanato paused, his glare softening.

“You must be in love with me if you’re so insistent on me getting better.” he grumbled, sitting up. “Y/N is in love with me Teddy!”

“Kanato.” you felt your face heat up violently. “Don’t say things like that.” you groaned.

“It’s blushing teddy, how cute!”

Kanato’s use of the word ‘it’ wasn’t new to you. In fact when he wasn’t calling you names, chasing you around with forks pretending to stab you, or worse, it was denoting you to objects.

“H-hey! I am not blushing!” you pouted. “My face just looks that way.” you lied. “S-shut up.” you grumbled.

“And what if I don’t feel like it?” he challenged, knowing you wouldn’t say a word back. You were kind of like Yui. You wouldn’t dare challenge any of the Sakamaki brothers. It was a death sentence in every sense of the word.

“Kanato, I just want you to feel better.” you looked down at your feet.

“There’s one thing you can do.” Kanato used his strength to stand to his feet. Despite his looks, he was tall, and under that cute exterior was a mean and feral beast. He staggered over to you, a sick smile on his face. That couldn’t be good, not by a long shot.

“And what exactly would that be?” you asked. You couldn’t look at him. You didn’t wanna know what he was planning. You were positive that it wasn’t gonna end well either.

“Get on your knees.”

“My knees?” you repeated. “Why do you want me to-”

“Now Y/N.” he spoke over you. You felt his hand on your shoulder. “I don’t like repeating myself.” his nails dug into your skin, causing your knees to wobble under the pain. “On. Your. Knees!”

Your feet gave out, practically sending you crashing down to the floor. You looked like a dog, on your hands and knees. You appeared weak and pathetic.

You found it in yourself to look up at Kanato. Teddy was perched on the bed, ‘watching’ you two. You felt his fingertips creep under your chin.

“Aww...” he smiled. “You’re like a little...What’s the word I’m looking for...PET!. It’s cute.” He caressed the side of your face. “Too bad I kill all my pets...they can’t handle me...can you handle me, Pet?”

“Yes, Kanato.” you found yourself saying. You felt like you didn’t have a choice...

and you loved every second of it.

“Bullying you has made me regain my strength! Isn’t this wonderful?” he wrapped one of his hands around your neck. “You’re so fun to torment” he laughed.

“K-kanato.” you coughed.

“Is it hard to breath. Y/N?” he asked sinisterly, that crazed smile gracing his lips. His words were terrifying although his actions said otherwise. He loosened his grip on your throat, allowing air to flow more freely. It was those small things that made you think he didn’t hate you as much as he loved to preach.

“Y/N...when that vampire came...I thought I was gonna lose you for good this time” he said sadly, allowing his arm to return to his side. “I thought I had-...that you were gonna die.”

“You saved me though.” you replied. Kanato knelt down to your level, still slightly above you.

“Yeah...because if anyone is gonna break you, it’s gonna be me.”

“I care about you a lot, Kanato.” you finally said it. “I like you too much.” you exposed yourself. “I want you stay by your side.” you said pathetically. “Even if you hate me.”

Before you could say another word, Kanato claimed your lips in a kiss. He held the sides of your face in his hands. It was the first time he had ever kissed you. He hummed thoughtfully, pushing you down to the floor so you were laying on your back. He crawled over you, not breaking the kiss.

“K-kanato.” you whimpered.

“You need to be taught a lesson. If your gonna be my girlfri- I mean pet, you’ll have to learn.” he kissed down your neck.

Suddenly, Kanato ripped the seam of your jeans all the way up your left leg, leaving it completely exposed to the air.

“Oh look, your clothes are messed up, guess we’ll have to take them off.” he smirked. In another swift motion, your pants were torn to shreds. The fabric fell in a circle around you both.

“Teddy look! Y/N is wearing such cute panties.” he cackled maniacally. “Her naughty place is leaking.”

You trembled, waiting for him to do whatever it was he was planning.

“I heard blood tastes better when it’s from your naughty place.” he ran his tongue along the top row of his teeth. “Y/N” he moaned, running his index finger along your clothed heat. “You smelled so much better here...I just want to- ungh.”

He suddenly drove his fangs into your right thigh. You gasped, arching your back. He violently grabbed your legs, holding them down. His tongue lashed against your freshly made wound.

You could hear him whimpering, cursing under his breath.

Kanato would deny it with his life, but everything about you was like a drug to you. Tasting your blood was even sweeter than every dessert he’s ever tasted. Feeling you whimper and plea for him did things to him that would make a sailor blush.

Forget Yui, forget his brothers, forget it all.

“Fuh-” Kanato couldn’t take it anymore. He couldn’t stop himself from ripping off your panties and driving his tongue into your most sensitive parts. Hearing you moan for him, cry for him.

The rumors were right, vampires were godly lovers. It was like Kanato knew what you wanted and where. He lashed his tongue against your heat, grabbing your legs.

“Wrap your legs around my head,” he demanded. “Not like it’s gonna kill me.” he laughed manically. “

Knock knock

“Y/N, are you in there?” Yui’s small voice caused you to panic a little. As you tried to get up, Kanato pushed you right back down, growling into your pussy,

“FUCK!” you whined, making it very obvious what you two were up to. “Kanato, I can’t-”

“Then don’t.” he grunted, not ceasing his movements. “Cum, cum for me.”

“K-KAANAAA!” you cried as you came. You thrashed and writhed under his touch, but he didn’t stop. His tongue never stopped moving. “fuh- fuck! Kanato, t-too much!”

“I said cum for me, I didn’t say I’d stop.” he thrust his fingers into you to add insult to injury. “You’re so fun to fuck with!” he spat.

“Kanato!” you sobbed. You couldn’t stop moving, you couldn’t stop thrashing. Th epleasure had gotten to you so much, you were drooling.

He finally withdrew his mouth from you, smiling evilly at the mess he left.

Kanato had grabbed one of his ties that had left on the floor and bound your wrists together.

“You look so inviting tied up for me...” he shuddered as he bit his lip. He licked his fingers clean of your blood and juices. “Good thing the night is young...because I’m not done with you.”

...

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wornoutmouse · 3 years

Text

Fun fact: demon slayer starts in 1912 and ends in 1927(or at least that's when the Tashio era ends). Using that math Tanjiro (as long as he kept his health good) would very well be alive today at the ripe age of like 78 if my math is correct since he started as 13 in the series. (My math probably wrong asf)

Power imbalance, power bottom reader, knife play, blood but not blood play...

He hated you.

Your very being irked him more than anything he'd ever experienced in all his centuries of living. You were clumsy, boisterous, and played that arrogant music all throughout your home while walking around half naked. Well in Muzan's opinion you were half naked, he couldn't even begin to describe his disbelief at the trend of exposing skin.

It didn't help that you had that insignificant filth running through your veins. At first he was unsure, after all this was a completely different country than Japan, not to mention your darker skin and coiled hair. But no, he could smell and recognise the Kamado blood running through your veins just as strongly as it had run through all your ancestors.

Completely undiluted.

At the very beginning when you first moved in, you came to his home. Knocking aggressively on his front door already getting off to the wrong start. When he opened it, you slipped past him and walked into his living room barely even saying hello as you put poorly decorated sugar cookies on his obsidian coffee table. "This is a nice place you got here Mj."

Muzan's eyes twitched, that joke had long since gotten old since he moved to America.

Now that you were closer he could definitely smell, the century old stench of rivaling bloodlust simmered just below your onyx skin. At any moment he expected you to attack him in some way or form. "Anyways I'm here to say hello neighbor, my name is Y/n and I'm your new best friend!"

Your happy attitude also agitated him to no end. Even though the knowledge of demons had dwindled down to only a few select families, even basic humans were wary of him as their baser instincts made them aware of his dangerous origins. This fact had long since forced Muzan to only prey on the elderly to survive. You had stayed a bit longer babbling about some nonsense that Muzan never acknowledged as he watched you from a good distance.

"You know you really got to add more to your wardrobe than 1963 suits." You walked from the back of his home, an area that he didn't even notice you wandered to. Finally getting bored, you open his door bidding your farewells.

Just before leaving you stop and with a cheeky grin say, "If you ever need anything just come on over. We Kamado's are known for our kindness."

Since then he'd been on edge around you. The point of relocating was for him to keep a low profile but now it seems he'd have to come face to face with an old nemesis reborn.

Muzan snapped out of his thoughts with a flinch as he pierced his hand with his nail. He watches the dark blood well up from the wound and drip down his wrist. In the end this world had long since lost its hostility dwindling the average human incapable of basic combat. Giving you were no doubt a great descendant, Muzan failed to see you as a true threat.

But one can never be too sure

🥢🥢🥢🥢🥢🥢🥢🥢🥢🥢🥢🥢🥢🥢🥢🥢🥢

You heard a knock on your door, soft and hesitant. "I don't think I'm expecting company." You checked your watch and peered out of a nearby window. It was at least 8 at night, you were braless wearing sweats with a red T-Shirt and on your way to bed. In the back of your mind you visualize your two grand-uncles Inosuke and Zenitsu coming over to make you spectate their fights. For two old dudes they still had enough strength in them to do hip breaking nonsense.

You open the door shocked to see your next door neighbor standing before you. For once he wasn't wearing a suit that cost more than your house. His attire was still expensively dressed but in a more casual sense, that being a black dress shirt and slacks. His sleeves were rolled up displaying his pale skin. "Can I come in?" A dazzling smile you had never seen before practically blinds you as he walks past you into your home.

When Muzan walks in his eyes immediately dart to the clear as day Nichirin Blade sword displayed recklessly on your living room wall above your couch. "You like it?" A hand on his shoulder makes him jump, "Got it from my grandpa, he says it's really special but I feel like he's exaggerating. You know how old people are." Muzan shakes out of his stupor. "I don't quite understand what you mean by that, however I do know that it's much more wise to listen to your elders than ignoring…..It could save your life."

Muzan replicates you and puts a hand on your shoulder gently squeezing. This was it, he'd go in for the kill and it would be over, the amount of blood he'd pump into you would be enough to watch you meet a satisfying end of combustion completely untraceable if the police were to get involved. How he wishes he'd be there when your poor grandfather walks along your remains splattered on every surface in your living room. Unable to do a thing as he's finally in his last stretch of life.

The beauty.

Muzan's finger only twitches in the slightest before pain sparks from his own neck. "The thought of you coming into my own home unprovoked and at night no less, was the most obvious sign one could ask more." You had his hand gripped so tight your veins popped while your other hand held a small pocket knife that burned brighter than any Nichirin sword he'd ever encountered. He didn't understand, he was quick enough to kill even the best of the ancient Hiroshima. So how did a little foreign girl like you get the upper hand?

It was embarrassing and almost laughable if any of his pillars were alive to tell the tale.

You press the blade harder before bringing your other hand to caress Muzan's cheek, "Did you think I'd be just an ignorant descendant of an infamous hero?" You clicked your teeth disappointingly. "How naive, you've really become lazy after all these millennia huh?" You walk forward, pushing Muzan back with seductive strength. He allows you to push him into your couch, I say allow because at any time he could have stopped you.

Muzan is most definitely not holding me at gunpoint right now.

The knife never wavers even as you climb into Muzan's lap, pressing it even closer against his jugular. "You do know getting beheaded will not kill me, and I doubt this petty little kitchen knife will get the job done in the first place." Your lips draw into a smirk and you press the knife closer as you trail it down his chest, "That may be true but it's gonna take one hell of a time for you to grow back." Your hand jerks down, popping his shirt buttons open.

Muzan watches with interest, your eyes light up as more skin becomes exposed. The tones of your dark skin contrast strikingly as you caress his pectoral with the tips of your fingers. "For a 1,000 year old grandpa you look decent." Still threatening his life with your blade, you kiss him. It's deep and carnal. Your lustful desires being made known as you grind in his lap. The flesh of your ass snuggly hotdogs the forming outline of his cock. "I've always wanted to be with a demon. You've had to of become a real freak after living this long!"

When you pull away Muzan's thin lips are pink and a bit swollen. He is out of breath despite needing none, "You have a lot of nerve for a mere human." With your free hand you loosen the belt of his slacks, only standing to pull them off, pleased when Muzan voluntarily raises his hips to aid you.

Don't get him wrong, he was still planning on killing you and ending your wretched bloodline once and for all, he just needed his mind to clear itself. Your scent, your confidence, strung him along like a puppet. His hands grip onto your ass cheeks like a lifeline. Molding them between his fingers, even giving them a shake through your sweats. His nails elongate and puncture the thick fabric as if it was nothing more than a spider web.

Your sweats are tugged off completely leaving your lower half nude. Muzan moves his hands to hold your ass again but your blade politely makes itself known. You are out of breath and clearly flustered. "Watch yourself, demon, I'm the one calling the shots, don't forget that." Muzan bites his tongue with sharp glare. He raises his hands in surrender, "Of course."

Muzan can feel your wetness against his leg and it's driving him insane. "Hey…" red eyes refocus on yours, "You ain't got any diseases do you? And you can't get me pregnant right?" Muzan smirks hands enclosing around your ass despite your protest. "I can, however it will cost a lot more than doing it once." The odds didn't seem in your favor but you were in no position to stand down and grab a condom and Muzan knew it.

You curve the blade towards his chin, "If you are lying and give me some ancient unknown disease or I find out you have superman sperm, I will kill you." Muzan links his lips, "Wasn't that the plan from the beginning or have you had a moment of level headedness?" Your wrist is quick and precise, cutting a thin slash along his jawline., not enough to scar and it barely even bled, but the threat was clear.

You grab Muzan's dick and use your thumb to attack the underside with fast strokes. Said man doesn't react outwardly, the only sign being his eyelids lowering by a fraction. "Were you always this well endowed or did you adjust this part too?" Muzan was not amused by your insinuation. Deciding to once again display the true power imbalance this situation had, he loops his arms underneath your large thighs and lifts you just enough to thrust his cock against your hole.

From there he let's go, making you plop down on his length, making you yelp and allowing him to lean back with a relaxed sigh. You were so warm and tight. Now even though I explained what had happened with great detail, keep in mind that in reality it all happened within a fraction of a second.

Your large and in charge persona was cracking. You gripped Muzan's sides tightly as your pussy spasmed around his girth. "F-Fuck it's too….." you trail off not wanting to give Muzan the credit he was truly due.

It takes a few moments for you to get your bearings all the while Muzan and his dangerous jaw swayed in the crevice of your neck. A viper playing with its prey. The blade is back against his neck once again making his cock twitch. If he were human this would be a dangerous feat. Your grip never slacked nor lessened against his neck, slicing into a growing wound that dropped dark blood down his chest and to his abdomen.

His dick stretched your pussy and made it weap on each downstroke. Muzan's hands grip onto the cheeks of your ass with gritted teeth. Your insides gripped him ever so slightly. Sucking him back in as if he belonged there. He felt used and it felt good. His black ringlets stuck to his face from sweat and his red eyes grew in intensity.

He couldn't see much of your body, hell he could barely even touch. In the back of his mind humorous thoughts such as how he knew Tanjiro would lose his sanity if he knew his granddaughter was being bedded by the man he despised. But the more you bounced, the more you squeezed, the deeper you cut into his neck proved that you were truly the one in charge.

"Oh God you're so deep!" Your deep almond eyes shut themselves with pleasure. Muzan could feel your legs shaking with exertion at the same rhythm your pussy twitched. His balls felt tight after having no action in over a dozen years. "F-Faster." He has no care for your blade, only wanting to cum and feel the sweet ecstasy he knew your creamed pussy would provide. "Come on human, go faster." Muzan locks lips with you, gaze hardened and intent on proving some sort of point.

Tossing the knife you wrap your arms around his neck pulling his head closer. Red eyes target brown ones as his hands take a stronger grip on your ass. He uses his strength to bounce you. The sound of his balls slapping against the curve of your ass is just as disgusting as it is sexy. Your nipples rub against his through your tank-top making you both moan. The feeling blood stains your shirt making you shiver from the cool wetness

The couch you rest on bangs against the wall behind you the faster you both go. Muzan's feet are planted firmly in the ground, his fangs further elongated. He looks feral and it is in this moment where you get a glimpse of the horror many people felt when he took their lives. "Focus little Kamado, you wouldn't want to disappoint me now would you?"

Muzan's hips meet yours, spreading the tempo. Your juices coat his lap before finally you tense up completely into a cramp inducing stance as Muzan impaled you on his cock one last time. "Ahh.." Muzan empties himself within you with a relieved sigh.

Maybe the Kamado bloodline could go on.

#blackreader #black y/n #demon slayer smut #muzan x reader #anime smut #muzan smut #muzan x black reader #demon slayer x black reader

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fatuilady · 3 years

Text

— 𝐜𝐫𝐲 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐭. (NSFW)

✦ word count : 1.7𝐤

✦ feat : 𝐆𝐍 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 , [𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧 𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐜𝐭] 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐞

✦ cw : 𝐝𝐨𝐦 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 , 𝐦𝐢𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐫𝐬 , 𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐬𝐦 𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐚𝐥 , 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐩𝐬 , 𝐝𝐚𝐜𝐫𝐲𝐩𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐚 , 𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐝 𝐝𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

𝖎𝖓 𝖜𝖍𝖎𝖈𝖍 :

— a certain fatui member is insistent that those of his level of importance don't have time to spare to waste on crying. little did he know, his rival intended to take him up on his statement all with the intent to conclude just exactly how much it takes to make a harbinger cry.

'Harbingers don't cry. It's below somebody of my position.'

The fatui's most valued redhead wore his confidence through his infamous, upturned smirk. He held his relaxed arms knotted together in definite security, crossed against his chest as he lifted his chin to further assert his prior statement. Though he spoke in a self-assured tonality, cockiness resonated in his ultimatum.

It was surely said to coax a remark from you, it was too obviously laced with brimming arrogance to not be some form of verbal mouse trap. It was amusing, how he attempted to retain his mirage of false strength.

'Is that so?'

You pursed your lips, allowing him to add to his curiously delusive ideology. His impudence was mildly beguiled and for the first instance in the whole of your passive-aggressive rivalry, his nerve began to agitate every one of yours. Challenging him with a simple three-part chuckle, you observed him as he shifted his posture. Just how much would it take to change his thesis?

'Tears come from weakness, something that I refuse to display.'

On it's own, it was a rather insensitive statement, considering he was by no means unshakeable. You both knew very well that he was going to contradict himself strongly in due time.

He was going to eat those words.

And he was going to like it.

You tied each finger into the auburn wefts atop his head, stray hints of frustration collecting together as he writhes, shifting and squirming. It was something you had discovered in the moment: he was incredibly hair sensitive. The way your nails dug into his tender scalp, pulling on every fibre sent electrical pulses through his skin.

Tugging sharply, you craned his head to the left. From such stark force, he stumbled, both on his feet and on a choked out groan. It was laughable, how quickly the tables turned at your hands.

'Harbingers don't cry?'

His previously smirking lip now quivered as you projected your words right into his ear. Admittedly, he made his statement with an absent mind. Would he have expected such a one-dimensional outlook would leave him back exposed, red-kneed as his rivalling other half forced each of his four limbs into the hardwood?

Would he have expected to warm up so easily to the situation?

No, but it was more likely than he thought.

You alleviated your grip on his hair, consequently dropping him onto his palms. He flinched once more as his forearms quaked, barely able to support the weight of your hefty boot on his lower back. He should have been thankful you blessed him with permission to keep his pants, however the elemental energy you emanated stung his bare back, torturing him as he shivered with anticipation.

'Pathetic, really.'

With utmost care, he peeked behind him through the space between his quivering forelimbs.

Childe's usual front, being the fatui's most infamous prodigy, didn't allow him to show any sign of submissiveness, however, what he saw flushed him with a feeling he'd never even considered before. It was one of desperation.

One of want.

One of need.

A critical shadow cut across your face, cast sinisterly over your newfound sadistic smile. It bore into him, made him feel queasy, weak at the joints. It was wrong for him to feel excitement prickle upon seeing you assert him in such a way. It was wrong for him to betray the very rules of his nation in the name of his own masochistic desire. It was wrong for him to want to brand the outlines of your sick face into his mind with a hot iron. It was wrong for him to indulge in the very actions he enjoyed inflicting on others.

Yet, it felt right to entertain them.

It felt right to submit and toss the coin to it's most opposite face.

It felt all too right to fall prey to his feral instincts.

'P-please...'

The address was barely audible in ordinary circumstances, but in a barren room, it was alarmingly loud. So loud that Childe couldn't recognise his own voice. It was subordinate, faltering and breaking apart with every syllable. The eleventh harbinger had never uttered such a word in his life; it was an address to a superior, something someone of his recognised status would never dream of choking out underneath someone he held such strong taunting against.

You caught ear of what he uttered, much to his controversial dismay. It was indeed a delight to hear on your part. Pressing your boot further into the base of his spine, you revelled in his weary whimpers. For such an accomplished warrior, he seemed particularly weak to human touch. Perhaps it was a double-edged blade, performing so well that no opponent could touch him also meant that in this irregular instance, he upheld the resistance of a flimsy piece of parchment when it came to withstanding another's force. Entertaining this now obvious forbidden fantasy of his, you unsheathed one of the two foils, a particular favourite from your personal arsenal, from the holsters on your back. It was thin, made rigid with elemental energy in the same way that he materialised his own blades.

They suited you well in previous duels, never once had they failed you against the tyranny of the Fatui, so it was unlikely they would betray you against an unarmed, unhelped and so clearly sexually frustrated opponent.

Such a weapon would not have intimidated him usually, in fact, he also knew how to use it perfectly well and precisely. This time, it struck a kind of taboo enjoyment within him. You performed much differently to him in the dance of battle: he was a jack of all trades, you were more concentrated as a master of one. As you leaned into him once more, you traced the charged edge over his shoulder blades, feeling the muscles underneath contract and tense under your fervorous guidance.

Your control was indeed as masterful as he expected, possibly even too much for him.

'What was that?' You mused, through an invasive grin.

He gasped, the last of his depleting reasoning was begging him to come to his senses. It was quickly fading away into mere electrical impulses that made him twitch with every subtle move. Sabre now pressed to his throat, he felt the power of your vision burn into his skin, adam's apple resting uncomfortably on top of the honing edge.

You were waiting impatiently for a response, minutes elapsed and you quickly discovered you would have to coax it out of him. Digging the blade in further, you forced him onto his knees just so he could avoid an accidental demise.

Truthfully, he wouldn't have minded going out this way. If it was to a more despised enemy, he'd turn his nose at even the thought, but with you, his mind wandered like a lost puppy.

'p-please, m-m...'

He seemed as though he was going to choke out another few syllables, but caught himself, or more likely, became tied up on his own tongue.

'I want that in words,'

'f-a-ah~ p-please, [NAME] I-I'll beg, I swe-swear-'

Before he could finish his statement, you disenchanted your foil, allowing it to lose its structure, falling into a long strand connected to a handle. With a careless flick, it coiled around his neck thrice, all whilst leaving an arm's length of cord, more than enough for you to tug on sharply. He jolted upwards, vocals breaking as he wailed.

'Then beg.'

Childe's eyes widened, the sheer cold was like lightning, superconducting across his skin. It felt euphoric, pinning and placing freezing, soothing pressure on each and every torn muscle. Brimming tears started to swell in his waterline.

How utterly humiliating.

'[N-NAME]...m-ma-' he took a moment to swallow back the saliva pooling in his mouth at the sultry thoughts beating him up below, 'm-make me cry.'

'Is that what you want, pretty boy?' He crumbled at the nickname.

'p-prove m~me wrong...'

And there was all the confirmation you needed.

Taking your chance to dual wield your two rapiers, you disenchanted the other and with one forceful swoop, lashed it right across his bare back.

The initial sound was one of pain, but in mutual desire, he melted into the succeeding throbbing, the stinging coaxing unholy sounds to tumble so effortlessly from his lips. He was very well already on his way to Cloud 9, mind spinning with wishful stars as his vision became blurred.

'youre so pretty when you cry,' you cooed, knowing his pants would be far beyond uncomfortable at this point. Another lash.

'f-gahh~ pl-plea-'

Again.

'It's- too- too much,' you leaned down to kiss his blushing earlobes, listening to him sob over his embarrassing request, 'I- n-need t-'

Again.

'Touch yourself? how crude.' Biting the handle of the cord around his neck, you used your now free hand to hook around the front waistband of his pants. 'Go ahead. That is, if you're so desperate to be vulgar.'

You traced the wicked serpents tongue over his back this time.

A thought quickly came to pass. Your vision trinket illuminated a gentle hue as you crystallised the surface in front of him. Puzzled, initially, he only realised it's purpose when he suddenly saw his reflection gaping back at him, scarlet faced with glazed eyes. You had made the surface reflective with elemental energy, all with the purpose of allowing him to see himself come undone at the seams.

'Are you going to begin? or are you to embarrassed to watch yourself?' Leaning into his other ear, you could feel the hot air from his panting, 'would you rather me drag you like a dog all the way back to Snezhnaya so the Tsaritsa can look upon you in this condition?'

The sounds of his muffled moans and wet slapping of raw skin started to fill the room. Just like that.

'I hope you intend to clean this mess you're making, Ajax, you're leaking all over the floor.'

You were more intent now just to watch him cradle himself to desperately over your mere presence alone, how could you resist disrupting him with occasional thrashing, causing him to jerk his hand harshly.

The eleventh harbinger was foaming at the mouth, growing more non-verbal with every shot you took at him like he was merely just a discarded hilichurl training dummy. It was a cocktail of eroticism, pleading whines, tortured whimpers and shameful cries all shaken up as one.

Childe wasn't usually one to complete his process so quickly, mostly saving the build up, so this was something new for him. He made eye contact with you through the makeshift mirror, the look in his eyes telling you he was about to pop. He had discarded his concern for volume long ago, keen to ride out the feeling under your stern supervision. He figured it was drawing to a close soon, so gave it his all.

You didn't like that.

One of your whips wrapped itself around his working hand, tugging it forcefully away from his work. For a brief moment, he had allowed himself to indulge himself to a point where he forgot who's mercy he was under.

'Ajax.'

You trailed your tongue across his salty cheek, the intoxicating taste of your victory turning the flavour sweet.

'Just who said that you could finish?'

It was a guarantee that you would make him cry about it.

This was a mistake on his part.

But boy, was he glad he made it.

#genshin impact #childe #childe genshin impact #tartaglia #sub childe #childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #genshin sub #dom!reader #childe smut #tartaglia smut

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desired-victim · 3 years

Note

Helloo! I wanted to request hisoka with corruption kink. Just write however you want to lolol i dont mind any freaky🏃

Ha *wipes sweat off forehead* I hope this hard work pays off. I put every ounce of effort in writing this 😮‍💨. I didn’t do any bullet points on this one but it does have about four thousand words! Please ignore the possible grammar mistakes, I do have trouble writing dialogue. I worked on yours all night long and I’m exhausted. My fingers sure are. I kept your request deeply in mind. You can see poor, little (Y/N)’s innocence melt right off her like ice cream ;). Anyway, here’s your request, my love 💕

I wanted to honor the divine feminine so you will see my appreciation for the female body below 👇

💕TW: The content below contains: degradation, domination kink, submission kink, dub con, threat of forced anal intercourse, pure smut, corruption kink, possible bad grammar, loss of virginity, dirty talk, cunnilingus, vaginal sex, corruption of innocence, Oh, and Hisoka is a TW itself.

Enjoy…

He’s tall.

God, he is so tall. Such long, strong legs - slender yet thick with muscle. Despite being erotically pleasant, his legs weren’t the best part of him. The best part of him was what your eyes followed. From his shins, to his knees, to his thighs, to his hips, to that beautifully sculpted torso of his, to his neck, and then you reached his eyes.

Those eyes. Those sharp, golden eyes of his.

His eyes unsettled most people. It was as though they could pierce your very soul, and see how weak and worthless you truly are. He's a predator - always keen, always aware, and always watching for a reason for you to be his next target.

Hisoka… how did you get those eyes?

She wondered how she caught his attention. He was the type of man to overlook girls like her. A blushing, doe eyed dolt, who could barely speak to strangers without stuttering a storm.

Why? Why would someone like Hisoka find her worthy of even being near him? Of being in his bed, of being by his side, of being between his legs. He is so very special, and I'm…

“My Little Slice, you look delightful when your down there~”

His voice shook her out of her thoughts. She looked at his teasing gaze and meekly lowered her sight to his lips. There, she saw them curl up into a grin. She tensed up and covered her naked chest with her arms. Just then, she realized how unbelievably exposed she was to his scrutiny.

“Oh, nervous now~,” he laughed out, sitting up from the headboard and closer to her face, “isn’t that sweet…”

More red than ever, she turned her face from Hisoka and leaned back. Instead of letting her move away, his hand wrapped around her wrist and thrusted her towards him. She yelped out as her cheek pressed against his hard chest, her face embarrassingly hotter than his cool skin. His chest rumbled as he let out a chuckle.

She put her hands against his chest and attempted to pull away, but his arm wrapped itself around her. She struggled to shove herself away and her efforts were all for nothing; he hadn’t moved an inch.

Perhaps it was foolish to pursue a 200th floor fighter. Where was her older brother to protect her now? He had lectured her beforehand about the dangerous people here and she laughed him off and teased him about being some sort of guard dog. Now, she needed him more than ever. She had never been in a situation like this before.

“No boys allowed, Y/N!” he usually shouted out, a vein practically popping out of his forehead. It almost seemed like he loved saying that as it was repeated over and over throughout her life.

All she wanted to do was explore a place she never ventured to. To seek the thrill that felt so curious and good, yet hidden like the inside of a flower that hasn't bloomed yet. A buzzing heartbeat that formed when she laid alone at night and gently ran her fingers up her skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps and shivers.

Please help me, B/N…

Her struggles came to an end as she huffed, breathlessly. Hisoka’s hand trailed down her shoulders to her waist and to her hips. His hand was met with the pleasant plumpness of her bottom. She squeaked out in shock as his hand roughly squeezed her ass and kneaded it like dough. A loud crack reverated across the room as he slapped it, leaving a red blur behind. She gasped and her face converted into an embarrassed cringe. Frustrated tears pricked in her eyes as her fingernails dug deeply into his skin.

Once again, she attempted to wiggle away. Instead of his arm wrapping around her shoulders once again, she was swept over and under him. He was hovering over her and there was no way to escape. Her previous attempts at fighting back were a failure, and she no longer wanted to fight, only to flee.

Her eyes shot out towards Hisoka’s face only to find him smiling down at her. His warm breath fanning her face and his hips between her thighs.

The glint in his eyes shook her to the core. His facial expression was teasing and playful, but his eyes told a completely different story. She’s seen that look on his face before. The same expression on his face as he killed his opponents. He looked like an apex predator who was about to break the neck of his prey with his jaws.

“You’ve never been fucked before, haven’t you?” he asked, his finger trailing down her cheek, rubbing off a tear she hadn’t noticed fell.

Her face scrunched up at his vulgar language.

“No, I’ve never been f-“ she paused, hesitating before quickly spitting out, “no, ive never been f… fucked before.” Another tear came out of her eye. She never cursed - She wasn’t allowed to.

Hisoka giggled, his smile twisting even further. He looked down at her precious expression and felt his arousal rise.

“You're utterly adorable, you know that? I almost feel a little bad about this. Almost. But you wanted to play, and don’t be a spoiled brat when the other player is better at the game than you.” He mocked, his sardonic gaze on her. It made her want to shrink into the mattress and never come out.

“Now, now,” he said, sitting up, “I’ll make it as comfortable as I can.”

He spread her thighs and examined her high waisted shorts. He grabbed the zipper at the top and unzipped it. Down and down it went, until her underwear was revealed to him.

“After all, the first cut into the cake has to be perfect.”

Her shorts were suddenly off her and on the ground. She was only in her underwear now, more exposed than ever. Most naked she’d been since that time she went to the beach. She’d gotten sunburnt that day. At least then she had a top, now her whole body was on display to him.

Hisoka hummed as he tugged his own bottoms off, revealing the thick length of his cock. His cock looked magnificent combined with the rest of his body. That sexy v-cut of his looked like two arrows directing me to look at his big dick, so large it almost dangled under its own weight. It held its own though, refusing to droop over.

How is that thing going to fit inside of me? she thought.

He spread her legs wide open and examined the thin material of her underwear as the form of her vulva showed through. The flimsy material was practically invisible.

Hisoka’s big hands grabbed her behind her knees, pushing her legs up while also spreading them even further. The bed squeaked out as Hisoka crawled on his knees over to her, placing himself over her.

Hisoka’s claws clenched themselves around her legs, indenting the soft flesh, “You have such a soft, innocent face,” he said, his face hovering over menacingly. “But I know a hungry little whore lies beneath the surface… let me feed that little whore~❤️.”

Hisoka let go of one of her legs and let it fall against the bed. Her loose leg was between his two thighs and her other leg was still being held. The top half of her body was still on the bed. Hisoka’s strength was maintained as he carried half of her body weight into the air.

He’s so strong… of course he is, that’s to be expected of a top floor fighter.

The bed let out a groan as Hisoka pushed himself onto her covered cunt, rubbing his dick between her labia majora. His cock stroked the sensitive heat over and over again, he could feel her hotness tightening and then softening as her pussy throbbed to the beat of her heartbeat. The head of his cock stroked her hard clit over and over again, the little bump riddled with sensitive nerves. Her underwear was sopping as her pussy leaked out sweet nectar. The tip of Hisoka’s cock was also leaking with precum, mixing in with her own sweetness and creating an erotic cocktail.

“Yes, don’t stop,” she begged. “Please don’t stop - I want to cum so bad. Please let me cum, please!”

Hisoka let out a breathy laugh. “If you want to cum so bad, you need to beg for it. Only good girls get to cum. Are you a good girl~?”

“Yes! I’m a good girl! I’m your good girl, Hisoka!”

“Aw, you're so cute when you beg. But I don’t think you're a good girl. No, I think you're a naughty, little slut. Little sluts only get to cum when they're being fucked.”

The sensitive head of Hisoka’s cock pulsated with pleasure as he rubbed it against the soaked underwear. If he kept doing it, he was going to cum way too fast. He couldn’t let that happen. Not before he stretched her virgin pussy with his cock. He’d be damned if he let himself orgasm before biting into her innocence.

His nails dug into her thigh as he pushed himself further into her, making sure there wasn’t an inch of space between their heats. He was going to blow and If he didn’t stop, he wasn’t gonna see that shocked expression of hers when came in her for the first time. The longer he waited, the better.

(Y/N)’s pussy clenched and her breathing sped up. She was going to cum.

I’m going to cum, I’m going to cum, I’m going to cum, I’m going to-

Hisoka pulled back.

“No!” She yelled, kicking her leg in frustration. She let out another yell as her leg didn’t even move an inch in Hisoka’s grip. His grip was too strong. There was no way she could force her way to freedom.

“I was so close!” she shouted, a tear threatening to fall from her eyes. “Why did you stop! I felt so good!”

Hisoka threw his head back and let out a loud, sadistic laugh.

“Haha, you're so cute when you're feisty! I’m glad I’m the first who gets to fuck you.”

He let go of her leg after getting over his giggling attack. She found herself embarrassed as she blew out strings of her own hair out of her own mouth.

As she was pulling strings of hair out of her mouth, she was suddenly pulled back onto the bed by Hisoka’s hands around her hips. She gulped as she saw Hisoka’s face hovering over her crotch.

The part of her underwear that directly covered over her cunt was a darker shade than the rest of her underwear from when they grounded against each other like animals in heat.

She watched nervously as he adjusted his position. She let out a whole body shiver as both of his thumbs opened her lips like a little book.

Hisoka licked the side of her cunt - not directly stimulating her but gently teasing her. While not directly pleasuring her, the motion relaxed her from her last intense session. A little between-the-main-courses snack, if you will.

She sat up on her elbows and watched as Hisoka lapped at both sides of her lips. She felt a swell of affection begin to grow in her chest as she watched Hisoka’s cheek press itself onto the inside of her thigh. She realized how bold she’s gotten since they began to play with each other. In such a short while, Hisoka had corrupted her - denting that once-perfect surface with his perverted nature. To think ten minutes ago she was so shy she could barely even curse. In such a short time, she’d cursed more than she had in a year. A pang of guilt filled her as she thought about how her older brother would react. But he wasn’t here, and he never had to know.

In her own thoughts, she didn’t notice Hisoka’s face twist into a mischievous smile. Her eyes widened in terror as she felt his tongue on her covered asshole.

“Hisoka!” She shouted out.

How can someone be so vulgar?

“Oh, I’m sorry, my Little Slice~. I just love it when your sweet, angelic face turns into one of horror. It turn me on so badly~❤️”

Hisoka only smiled and slid his tongue upwards towards her pussy. He pushed the tip of his tongue against the entrance of her vagina and wiggled it there. If it wasn’t for her underwear, his tongue would have been inside her pussy.

The nerves around her hole were ablaze and her legs were shaking - with fear, excitement or pleasure? Perhaps all three, she did not know. All she wanted was to be pounded by him; she didn’t care how big and thick he was (from what she saw earlier, his cock had to be as thick as her forearm). Though she was unexperienced and naive to the acts of sex, this feeling was primal and indispensable. She needed it, she needed it like a runner needs water.

His tongue dragged itself from her entrance to her clit.

“Yes, yes,” she moaned out and spread her legs wider without an ounce of shame.

It was overwhelming in the best way possible. It was the most electrifying thing she’d ever experienced and she never wanted it to end. She wanted to be there forever - in that limbo of titillation and erotic reality that was unlike anything she could recreate with her imagination.

Hisoka rapidly moved his tongue against her clit. She squealed out loud and attempted to move her hips but his hands grabbed her hips and pushed them to the bed and continued to flick her covered clit with his tongue.

She lifted herself up to her elbows and looked down at him. A hint of fear aroused in her as she made direct eye contact with him. She was so caught up in her own pleasure she didn’t realize how deeply she was looking into his eyes.

As she continued to lock her eyes with his, her pussy began to relax, getting ready to tighten and cum on his tongue. Her heavy breathing paused and she caught that expression in her eyes.

Then her panties were ripped in half and her bare cunt was revealed to him. In a split second, his entire tongue was inside of her.

She screamed as her virgin cunny squeezed itself around his long, wicked tongue. Hisoka laughed out and wiggled his tongue - messaging and caressing her inner walls as she cummed.

The wetness of her aroused cunt seeped out and dripped down to her asshole, to which Hisoka slurped up and continued his assault on her cunny again. He did this over and over again until I couldn’t handle it anymore. My hands tried to push him away but he didn’t even budge. It wasn’t until my legs began to kick out in panic did he pull away.

“Ah, ah,” she panted, body completely limp. Hisoka observed her body. Her soft stomach was gleaming with sweat and the inside of her thighs were also gleaming.

“You might be the sweetest candy I’ve had since I first tried Bungee Gum all those years ago. I knew the moment I popped it into my mouth it would never leave me, marking me with its sweet syrupy taste just like a Scarlet Letter. Would it be a bold thing to say that you're just like Bungee Gum? You get so pink when you're played with. The pink on your cheeks is almost the same shade as my favorite snack.”

Hisoka let out a sudden dramatic sigh that startled (Y/N) for a second. “Unfortunately, the company who used to make Bungee Gum went bankrupt so now I have to search far and wide just to get a taste. Luckily for me, something similar is always nearby for me to stretch and pull at.”

He paused, looking directly into (Y/N)’s eyes with his own yellow ones. “You are, my sweet little slice~”

Hisoka grabbed her ankles and slapped her legs together. The loud smack of her thighs' sudden connection reverated across the room.

Hisoka wrapped his big hand over both of her ankles and grabbed his cock, stroking back the foreskin to reveal the pink, sensitive tip and a pearl of precum forming. He placed the tip of his cock on her clit, rubbing it in little circles before sliding it down her slit until it reached her entrance at the very bottom. He felt tempted to slip it into her ass before deciding it wasn’t worth the screeching. Even though he could easily cover her mouth and sodomize her tight little ass, he couldn’t just jump into completely breaking her; It would be a better idea to slowly lower her into the fire. A slow burn would be ten times more satisfying.

Putting both of my legs onto one side of his shoulders, he used his weight to push his entire cock into her pussy until his ballsack was resting against her ass.

She hissed through her teeth and threw her head back. She was filled with his cock. So full. So, so full.

She was bursting with new sensations. A new type of pain, a new type of pleasure. It was unlike anything she’d ever felt yet so primal and familiar. It was an instinct she never realized she had.

Bending over her with her legs still on her shoulder, Hisoka connected their lips for the first time that night. She could taste her own saltiness on his lips. It wasn’t the type of kiss she’d seen on romance shows (the ones her brother decided were appropriate enough to watch). No, this kiss was the complete opposite of those. This kiss was rough, unlike anything else.

She felt a burst of bravery as she slipped her tongue out and shyly lapped at his bottom lip. Hisoka let out a sardonic chuckle.

“Feeling brave now, are we?”

(Y/N) yelped as Hisoka slid his entire tongue inside her mouth, licking every corner of her mouth. Nothing was left untouched.

After completely violating her mouth with his tongue, Hisoka pulled away, smiling down at her.

“Are you ready?” He whispered. (Y/N) let out a shuddering breath and nodded. She braced herself by meekly grabbing onto the shoulder that didn’t have her legs with one hand, the other gripping onto the sheets.

Hisoka pulled back until only the tip of his cock remained in her, then he slammed into her with great strength. Her breath completely left her body with the slam of his hips. His hips smashing against her buttocks made a filthy sound that made her want to cum. The plop, plop sound that her pussy was also doing things to her.

Hisoka grunted with every hard thrust. She fit him just like a glove. It was almost like she was made for him. While the male penis did not have as many nerve endings as female genitals, a man can augment his sensations and cause it to heighten by being caressed just right. By holding her against himself, fucking her in a salacious dance, the more sensation builds up in his penis just like when a woman’s clitoris is tapped just so…

The friction of his cock pulling on her inner walls before being pushed inside once again left (Y/N) in a concoction of emotions. First, complete and utter pleasure. As he slammed his cock into her, dopamine bursted in her mind like an explosion of drugs. Second, regret. If her brother ever found out, how would he react to his own little sister getting fucked by the murderous Magician, Hisoka? She knew he’d feel like all his work to keep her safe were a waste of time and energy. Like all those years of pampering and protecting went right down the drain. She couldn’t let him find out. And thirdly, a rebellious energy. She was tired of being locked down by her own innocence. She wanted to explore the world. There had to be more to this world than just what she knew. There had to be.

From head to toe, she felt a symphony of pleasure as she came. Her toes clenched until they cramped. But she didn’t care, the pleasure outweighed the pain. Her fingers dug into his shoulder. She was sure there would be a five fingered mark there the next day. It would be a reminder of his clawed reach and her deflowering.

She screeched out as Hisoka went faster, overwhelming her. She hadn’t even gotten over her orgasm before he began to thrust into her twice as hard. She could feel his cock rub itself against the entrance of her womb.

It was primal to push into her beautiful, soft female body and pull back, only to push himself back. He could feel himself building up the height of his pleasure. The more he pumped, the higher the tower built, just ready to topple over and leave a big mess.

He looked at her closer than ever. Watching as her breast bounced and her lips glowed from their mixed saliva. He saw her eyes as she looked up at him, red from crying in complete pleasure. Her appearance increased his desire to come.

“Ahhhh,” he moaned out, feeling his orgasm in his very bones. It was a sensation he was familiar with. After defeating a powerful enemy, he sometimes glowed with the aftertaste of their fight and his victory. This was very similar - yet so different. More intimate, of course. His prey was still alive and he was still inside their body.

(Y/N) closed her eyes in bliss as Hisoka’s cum finally rested inside of her. Her breathing slowed down and the blush on her cheeks faded into softer shades of pink. The sun was coming down. Its orange tones highlighted her sweaty body like a canvas. It almost seemed like she was a freshly painted portrait. Divine Feminine tamed at last.

Both of them laid on their backs, observing the plain ceiling. It was relaxing to lay down after such an exhausting task. All she wanted to do was shut her eyes and rest.

Rest, rest, rest…

My brother! His fight is over!

(Y/N) shot up from the bed, practically tripping over herself as she gathered her things - putting them on. She didn’t even notice her bra was inside-out. More shockingly, she didn’t even notice cum was dripping down her legs.

Hisoka watched amusingly from the sidelines at her scattering around the room.

(Y/N) scanned the room for one final time. She groaned as she saw her wet panties on the bed, right next to Hisoka. She jumped onto the bed and reached for her underwear. As she pulled back, Hisoka grabbed her wrist.

“Tell me, (Y/N), how would your older brother react to hearing about how I ruined his little sister's innocence? How I fucked her and she enjoyed every second of it? I bet he’d try to kill me~.”

(Y/N)’s mouth opened and closed, not a single word leaving her starstruck mouth. Her body was paralyzed with fear. She forgot who she was dealing with in her panic.

“What's the matter? You want to keep our little secret just between us two? Fine. However, come to my room tomorrow at the same time you did today and we’ll have some more fun. If not…”

She didn’t need to ask - She knew. She imagined the consequences in her mind, thinking about the outcome of her moment of weakness.

Hisoka wasn’t done with her; this was just the appetizer.

—-

“Hey, (Y/N), where were you during my fight? I didn’t see you in the crowd at all.”

“Oh, I was just getting some snacks.”

“Ah, alright. Next time just tell me beforehand. I wouldn’t want a stranger taking advantage of my little sister. Right, sis?”

“Haha, yeah…”

#hxh imagines #hxh headcanons #hxh hisoka #hxh x reader #hisoka morrow x reader #hisoka x reader #hisoka morow #hisoka #hisoka imagine #hunter x hunter #hisoka x y/n

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