#dark souls x reader

[linkwho1]

you’re telling me dark souls a VERY famous game BARELY has any fanfics..?? This is absolute insanity I did not simp for men in armor to only watch them from afar YOU NEED TO START WORKING THOSE IN THE FANDOM

[knihil]

𝔅𝔯𝔬𝔨𝔢𝔫 𝔟𝔶 𝔞 ℭ𝔞𝔭𝔯𝔞 𝔇𝔢𝔪𝔬𝔫.

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༒︎ CONTENT WARNING ༒︎ : noncon, grimdark world, physical violence

Tags: sub fem!reader, dom!capra demon, monster fucking, monster cock, deflowerment, penetration through clothes, slapping, mindbreak, stomach bulge, folded like a pretzel, breeding, creampie, pinned down, size difference, breast play

Two demons felled, a pair of gargoyles slain, and one Bell of Awakening rung. You never expected to make it this far on your journey, to have the makings of such an unlikely heroine. Nor did you expect for confidence to be the end of you...

Escaping the undead asylum and killing the stray demon that guarded its exit had proved to be far simpler than expected. Just the same, besting the Taurus demon on the bridge and felling the two gargoyles that stood guard over the first Bell of Awakening were tasks that were insurmountable only in your imagination. Time was beginning to prove that, in all truth, that knight from Astora who'd freed you from your cell was speaking the truth. You very well might be the Chosen Undead.

But before your fate is to be revealed, you still have one last bell to ring, one found opposite of the first. According to the words spoken to you by the crestfallen knight during your stay at Firelink Shrine, the second bell should be down, far, far below. If his dispassionate guidance is to be trusted, then the path you're set upon will culminate at the base of Blighttown. Steeling yourself for what's to come, you stand from the bonfire of the parish, abandoning the quaint respite it offered you, and make your way towards the lower section of the undead burg. Your thoughts wander to possibilities of what trials might lie in wait for you past the depths, what the path to a lost and sunless civilization might be like.

Your armored footsteps against the stone beneath are the only things that accompany your silent journey. Their staccato rhytm offers just enough white noise for you to lose yourself within your mind, your legs carrying your absentminded body past the steps that lead lower and lower. Hollows, deamons, gargoyles... You've slain all of these monstrosities with more finesse than you thought was within your abilities and while each encounter has proven to be more challenging than the last, you've never once failed to persevere towards victory.

It's almost as if some form of divine intervention is guiding you, as if the threads of fate themselves are in your favor. The thought that everything might be a stroke of luck, a string of events chained together by nothing more than mere causality enters your mind for a moment. They don't linger for long, however. Heroes are often found in the most unlikely of places, no? Who's to say you're not the one who'll manage to restore light to the darkening world of Lordran-

Clumsily, you feel yourself bump into something firm yet cloudy in texture. It snaps you from your thoughts and as you shake your head, returning to reality, you're faced by an imposing door of fog. The familiar sight proves to be confusing at first, prompting a quick turn on your heels to survey the area behind. As your eyes scan the town of the lower burg, you realize just how profoundly nestled you were within your thoughts. So much so, that it's only now that you realize you walked the entire way to the lower burg without even feeling it.

As your surprise fades, it becomes far easier to notice the dilapidated state of things in this part of the settlement. Houses have been reduced to their base structures, the wooden beams that once held the walls now as readily apparent as the bones on a malnourished dog. Speaking of which, the rotten remains of animals and people lie slumped over the rim of a well in the center of town. More corpses adorn the surrounding walls, and the stench that permeates the surrounding air serves as the final touch to complete the macabre sight.

Whatever caused this must lie beyond the fog...

For a split moment, you feel the claws of fear begin to scratch at your heart. However, they retract as soon as they tease to sink in. You recall your previous achievements and with renewed vigor, step through the murky veil that separates you from the next demon you'll slay.

Immediately, you're met by its four glowing red eyes. They examine your shorter frame from above, scanning over your form as the creature's veiny hands fist around the hilt of the two oversized cleavers it wields. He's almost entirely bare, clad in nothing more than a loincloth that's been dirtied with stains which have no doubt come from his previous victims. The rest of his muscled physique is left entirely unclothed, the verdigris skin that's stretched taught around its musculature accented by nothing more than bulging veins and a layer of grime. A huff escapes from the goat-like skull the hellspawn wears for a head and your grip instinctively tightens around your own blade.

The demon is imposing. Everything about it hints at something primal, suggesting that its true nature must be far more animal than anything you've faced thus far. Still, you find yourself surprisingly unafraid. Even as the ten foot tall butcher hunches over in preparation to leap at you, confidence is the only thing you feel. And, as the hint of a smirk begins to tug at the corner of your mouth, you realize that you're not afraid.

You are ready.

Channeling the vigor bestowed upon you by your faith in the Prophecy of the Chosen Undead, you leap forward into battle. The hellspawn matches your temper and unleashes a slash with its two cleavers, attempting to split you in two from shoulder to waist. Instinctively, you dodge the attack by a narrow margin, hoping that it will grant you enough time to deliver a riposte.

It's a maneuver that you immediately realize won't work on this fiend. His swings carry such force that the air he cleaves through sends ripples that buffet and unbalance you. You stumble backwards for a moment before regaining your footing and propping the point of your sword forward from a middle guard, hoping to keep the creature at bay as he readies his next move. Two symmetrical swings from either side, a scissor like motion that aims to sever your head clean off your shoulders. The only thing you can think of doing is to throw yourself onto the dirt beneath.

Your sloppily roll to avoid his killing blow and use the momentum to swiftly rise and turn on your heel to face him. As your vision spins around, you find that he's already closed the distance, both of his cleavers raised skyward. Your eyes widen and your heart skips a beat as the sun itself is eclipsed by his towering presence. Almost paralyzed by fear, you shakily raise the flat of your blade in hopes of producing a block or a parry, anything that might save you from certain death.

Its cleavers, powered by the coiling muscles in the demon's arms drop all the way down and through your defenses. Your sword shatters along with your courage. The jagged tip of its weapons crack your breastplate in two, the force of the impact knocking the stability out of your legs. They buckle under the weight of your defeat and your eyes cast a thousand yard glance onto the fragments of steel that lay on the ground.

Before you're even afforded a moment to contemplate your defeat, to process the promise of death that looms over you, you're lifted onto the air. The shock frees you from your trance as the demon hoists you up by the back of your head. "Unhand me! Let go, demon!" You pair your words with a series of kicks and punches aimed at the butcher's torso, but they amount to nothing. You realize now why the creature is so comfortable with wearing nothing in the way of armor.

Even if you had managed to land a strike, it's almost certain that it would have barely scratched the thick hide of its muscles. You feel the familiar claws of fear sink fully into your heart as your pleading eyes lock onto his. They're nothing more than glowing orbs of primal instinct. You've never seen hellfire before, but you're sure that it must glow with the same intensity as this beast's gaze. Your silent pleas for mercy go unanswered as the creature slams you into the ground.

Your body seizes up in terror, your hands clasping around the thick forearm that pins you down. Its eyes roam over you once more and you begin to wonder why it hasn't yet killed you. It's almost as if it is toying with you, waiting for the perfect moment to-

Your heart sinks as you realize where his eyes are directed. The crack in your armor has left one of your breasts exposed to him, the supple flesh peeking through the metal like treasure through a hidden chest. Both of you freeze for a moment. Time seems to stand still as panic begins to take you over, your mind rationalizing the very real possibility that this thing might actually want your body.

The demon's response comes only in the form of his loincloth parting like a curtain to reveal his arousal. Its meat is the most imposing thing you've ever seen. A cock the same length as your forearm, colored the same sickly greyish-hue as the rest of the creature, and decorated with rippling veins that pulse in tandem with the rest of the shaft they coil around. "No... Stop, I-"

You're not even allowed to finish your pathetic plea as the demon's hands clench around the seams of the crack in your armor. You could swear he is barely exerting any force as he finishes splitting sway the obsolete remains of your cuirass. A series of hungry huffs escape from the demon as his calloused mitts palm your now exposed flesh.

You're frozen by the overwhelming feeling of being toyed with by something so much stronger than you, so invincible. Shivers of fear travel down your spine as its cracked fingernails chip against your hardened nipples, grazing and leaving red trails against the rest of your flesh. Your breath comes as a series of ragged and shallow inhales and exhales, your chest rising and falling rapidly. Your eyes, meanwhile, remain locked onto his cock.

It stands proudly over your entire midsection as the creature continues to explore your tits. It's a childish hope, the thought that you might be able to keep its hungry sex away if you simply stare at it long enough. But that hope is swiftly shattered as his hands clasp around your waist and suddenly, both of your hips are in line.

Your heart races against your chest, beating against the inside of your ribcage as you tremble in fear of what's to come. You shake your head, a feeble attempt to deny the reality of what's about to occur as the head of his cock touches your still clothed sex. "Stop! Don't you dare- MMPH!"

Your wail is muffled by his hand, the demon's calloused palm caressed by your breath as he impales you with a single thrust. The seams of your pants part under the force of his hips, and your walls follow suit. You're stretched impossibly to accommodate the butcher's cock. A primal huff erupts from him, delight flowering in his chest as his brutish cock defiles your once virgin hole. Meanwhile, you writhe in a mixture of pain, shock and... Pleasure?

You're not even afforded a moment to process the conflicting emotions as the beast begins to unsheathe its phallic sword from your core. You attempt to draw a breath of relief as you find yourself being emptied, only to taste the musk from his palm. Panic takes hold of your once courageous heart, your nostrils flaring as you writhe and struggle.

The only reward your thrashing yields is the release of your mouth, followed by a firm smack across your face. It's a dizzying strike, one that leaves your vision blurry and halts your feeble attempts at resistance. Dazed, you lie limp on the ground, barely registering the feeling of the demon's meaty hands wrapping themselves around your ankles. Your bones creak as your legs are craned all the way back until your ankles are resting by your head.

You barely feel the strain of your muscles and tendons being stretched past limits you never even dared to scratch the surface of. Your mind is a fog and the only thing that breaks you free from it is the feeling of his cock slamming back into your vulnerable hole. A bellowing roar erupts from the creature as he bottoms out within you, the thrust so forceful that it knocks the wind out of your lungs.

It's awful.

No, not the degradation or the feeling of being rendered helpless so completely. It's not even the searing pain of being skewered by such a massive length that it makes you sure your stomach is bulging. It's the fact that being ruined from the inside out by this thing feels...

Good.

As the demonic wall of muscle proceeds to jackhammer his cock into your soaking wet cunt, a cry of submission drips from your now parted lips. It's a pitiful thing, a sound so indecisive that it straddles the line of both a sob and a whimper. The creature seems to respond in full, growling possessively as it locks eyes with you.

Though words are beyond its capabilities, speech isn't necessary for it to communicate its thoughts. The mixture of his crimson gaze along with every plunge of his hips tells you everything you need to know. You belong to it now. The thought of being claimed reverberates throughout your entire being, echoing around within your skull as the demon marks you from the inside out.

With every wet slap that emanates from each meeting of your hips, every whorish moan that escapes from your widening mouth, you sink ever downward into a spiral of lust driven lunacy. The feeling of your insides molding around the brute's hot cock, your cunt clenching around every vein and ridge of his breeding pole; it's enough to drive you mad. How could such a thing exist? And how is it even possible that your body is accepting, let alone enjoying the feeling of being so thoroughly defiled?

It doesn't matter in the end, not when you feel his massive cock begin to twitch and throb within you. "A-are you going t-to...?" That's all you manage to squeak out before he answers you with one final thrust. It's searing hot. Not even the warmth of Estus can compare to the primal heat of the creature's cum. It's thick and Gods, there is so, so much-

"Ghhh-AaaAaaaAAAA!"

A scream rips from your throat as you cum from the feeling of being used as nothing more than a breeding tool. The feeling of being filled by cock, by cum, the feeling of being pinned and slapped and fucked and used within an inch of your life...It proves to be too much.

Your orgasm takes you, sending tremors and jolts across your well-used form as you spray your pleasure on the demon's cock. You let go completely. Your toes clench, your body trembles and your eyes roll back into your skull until your vision is swallowed by a darkness that clouds your senses.

You go limp as small jolts course throughout your broken form, timid reminders that you're still alive, though only barely. Everything begins to numb, the veil of unconsciousness suffocating you. What will become of you now? Will the creature dispose of you? Will you become a slave to its needs? As the last whispers of wakefulness leave you, only one thing becomes certain.

You were never meant to be the Chosen Undead.

[lumierexfics]

꒷꒥꒷꒥꒷₊˚✧ ﾟ.THE BAKERY IS OPEN. ﾟ✧˚₊꒷꒥꒷꒥꒷

Hello and welcome to my bakery! It seems that the post office is opening later but I seem to have extra ingredients and you must want to create something to pass the time. Let's bake a cake for your special person! [ ORDERS TAKEN : 6 OUT OF 14 ]

︶꒦꒷ What flavor of cake would they like? ꒷꒦︶

Chocolate, Vanilla, Apple, Expresso, Raspberry, Cherry, Carrot, Strawberry, Orange, Lemon, Cinnamon, Pumpkin, Sprinkles.

︶꒦꒷ What type of frosting would they like? ꒷꒦︶

: ̗̀➛ Vanilla frosting / No AU : ̗̀➛ Salted caramel frosting / Mermaid AU : ̗̀➛ Lemon-orange frosting / Victorian AU : ̗̀➛ Strawberry frosting / Cowboy AU : ̗̀➛ Coconut frosting / Pirate AU : ̗̀➛ Peppermint frosting / Reincarnation AU : ̗̀➛ Chocolate peanut butter frosting / Time travel AU : ̗̀➛ Blackberry frosting / Slasher AU : ̗̀➛ Expresso frosting / Assassin AU : ̗̀➛ White chocolate frosting / Nobility AU

︶꒦꒷ What type of decoration will be on the cake?꒷꒦︶

: ̗̀➛ Childhood friends to lovers / Frosted Frogs : ̗̀➛ Enemies to lovers / Shredded dark chocolate : ̗̀➛ Forbidden lovers / Edible flowers : ̗̀➛ Second chance / Edible glitter : ̗̀➛ Red String of fate / Candles : ̗̀➛ Established relationship / Wedding toppers

︶꒦꒷ What type of box do you think they would like?꒷꒦︶

: ̗̀➛ Pink / Fluff : ̗̀➛Blue / Angst LIMITED EDITION : ̗̀➛ White with red hearts / Smut [ ORDERS TAKEN 0 OUT OF 3 ]

When requesting the LIMITED EDITION BOXES, please do not request anything that involves bodily fluids, anything non-consensual.

Thank you for ordering and hopefully your special someone will enjoy the cake that you made for them!

[wxnheart]

May I please request some smutty headcanons for Yuria of Londor x reader and Queen Annalise x reader? I'm not sure how you feel about writing for these girlies but I thought I'd ask ❤️

𝐘𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐚 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐐𝐮𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐀𝐧𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐬��� 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖)

𝐘𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐚

Despite her machinations, Yuria can be submissive. For the right person. She IS quite submissive once you've gained her respect. You'd be forgiven for thinking otherwise.

There's a certain... earnest hitch in her voice whenever you two converse. Once you find out that she's quite the willing servant, oh gods...

Is a fantasist through and through. The thought of you commanding her is... pleasing. Makes her feel warm and heady between her lovely thighs.

Her biggest wish is to kneel before you, suppliant, yielding to your gentle yet authoritative commands.

Yuria wants you to see the way you make her feel, thighs trembling, wet with desire, as you command, soothe, and encourage her to work herself into a frenzy with deft fingers, an ecstasy she's never felt so ardently before.

Your name falls from her lips in soft, shaky whispers. Reverent. Like a prayer. And after she comes, you taste her essence on your lips. Your gaze never wavers and her body quivers with tremendous want.

You're left wanting and soon she is singing your praises again, this time with your head between her thighs.

𝐐𝐮𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐀𝐧𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐞

Whereas Yuria is your willing servant, with Annalise you're subject to her every desire and whim, and you want nothing more.

She suspected early on that you're more than willing to serve her and once you confess your attraction in so many words, well... under different circumstances, perhaps she would've made you her consort but you're just as precious as her dear subject.

Knows that you want nothing more than to touch and ravish her and to hear her praises. How beautiful your desire is but alas, keep your distance. She is your Queen. Kneel.

However, she'll also play on your desire for touch as well. What is that, dearest, you're aroused? Well, what are you going to do about it? Oh... you want to show her?

Annalise will honor this request. And so you show her what she does to you, what she could do to you, what you WANT her to do to you.

How beautiful of you. How... bestial. And improper. Unbecoming. Be gone. Will dismiss you from her sight and leave you to your own pleasures. Frustrated in more ways than one, you've no choice but to honor her request. You satiate your craving as you fantasize about your Queen coming undone in your arms.

And Annalise, forever regal and resplendent, awaits your return. And this game, this push and pull, it begins anew...

[junowritings]

Masterlist ♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

♡Match-ups

Twisted wonderland

♡Malleus being MC's bridesmaid for her wedding

♡Ruggie with Male!MC affected by love potion after attempted poisoning gone wrong

♡Jamil and Kalim react to MC/Yuu overblotting

♡Magical girl MC (chap 1-4 reactions)

♡Amnesiac MC/Yuu with no memory of their life before NRC (chap 1-4) + Pomefiore, Ignihyde & Diasomnia

♡Dorm leader's seeing MC/Yuu's plushie collection

♡Neige meeting MC/Yuu at VDC

♡Riddle, Floyd, Leona + Idia finding MC dancing and singing to a spanish love song

♡Dorm leaders being carried princess style

♡Dorm leaders having a crush on shy serious reader who's lively when alone or with people they trust

♡Past Vigilante!MC

♡KalimXreader - carpet ride drabble

♡AceXreader - sleepy cuddler drabble

♡MC protecting them in a fight - Ruggie+Azul+Deuce Riddle+Vil+Lilia Leona+Jamil

♡Floyd with crush who can't tell Platonic from Romantic

Baldur's Gate 3

♡Haarlep, Dammon, Rolan + Zevlor with a crush who can't tell Platonic from Romantic

♡ Romanced Astarion with goody-goody Tav who steals the potion from Araj for him

♡ Astarion, Gale, Halsin + Rolan with Tav transforming into a dragon to save them from death (Tav had no idea)

♡Raphael who is fond of a mortal that someone else claims is 'theirs'

♡Bg3 companions meeting Tav's brother

Soulsborne series

♡Solaire relationship hcs

Fictif series

♡Nicky fluff drabble

♡Sergio with a hyperactive MC

[zevexsii]

Hi!! Just found your blog and I see you write for Dark Souls! And all you write is so so good, you have such great skills! 💕 Can u do some Artorias headcanons with a female S/O? sfw and nsfw, if possible.

• She fights with a greatsword, is not as tall as him but she isn't human, is an extrovert (but not THAT extrovert), brunette and she has a cat. She also gets sick/hurt quite frequently but she doesn't really care about it. And wants to hadle everything by her own out of habit, to take care of people.

I don't know if this is useful for you but it's what I got!! Thank you so so much.

you are entirely too sweet, nonnie <3 i was running low on nsfw ideas, so i cut that section, but i appreciate your patience.

artorias x reader hcs - cut for length, no cws

artorias is an absolute jackass. he has redeeming qualities, but they're a little hard to come by. first of all, he's cocky. he's good at what he does, and he knows it. artorias hasn't survived this long because of pure luck- he works hard to stay where he is. because of his cockiness, he comes off as not only full of himself, but also full of horseshit. since he earned his station, artorias throws his weight around a fair bit. only to mess with those he outranks, but it still makes him a jerk. these qualities don't magically go away when he's interested in someone. as a matter of fact, they only get worse. artorias' incredibly thoughtful courtship attempts include inviting you to watch him spar, inviting you to watch him drink, and inviting you to his bed. what a charmer. in this relationship, you're holding the other end of the metaphorical child leash. shockingly enough, artorias is a little pathetic when it comes to direct romance. communication is going to be a bit of a struggle in the beginning, especially if you like to beat around the emotional bush. you'll never beat him at filling space with empty conversation, though. whether you're pre-established relationship or deep into a loving marriage, artorias will always pay special attention to you out of a group. he'll find a way to make something as simple as a compliment into a tirade. your unwillingness to let your body recover from illesses and injuries frustrates artorias to no end. of course he expected something would happen to you if he wasn't around- that's just how far his head is stuck up his own ass. it doesn't matter that you're inhuman, either. all of artorias' bratty behavior is rooted in the fear that one day, inevitably, he will lose everything. his only coping method is to get better; stronger, faster, smarter. you name it, artorias will have trained in it. of course, none of that will save him, but it's worth a try, right? artorias really tried to get along with your cat, he swears up and down he did. your cat, on the other hand, hates his guts. there was not a mutual attempt. artorias is also very allergic to your feline friend, but he'll try his absolute hardest to hide it. turns out, artorias isn't great at stifling sneezes or pretending not to have a runny nose. go figure.

[wintrsss]

.ೃ࿐ INTRODUCTION

this is a redo my rules/ intro, so if this seems similar, that's why. lots has changed so feel free to reread. ^^

Helloo, I’m wintrsss, and welcome to my blog! I’ll be writing my own little ideas/scenarios for the character’s below, but if you’d like to personally request something, go ahead and request it through my ask box! (Requests are also really appreciated.)

Constructive criticism is much obliged! Let me know if there’s anything I can improve on and I’ll try my hardest to do so!

If at any time something I make contains spoilers, I will try to mark it as such.

I tend to get busy for random periods of time, so please understand.

.ೃ࿐ REQUEST GUIDELINES

what's stated below can be subject to change. if you have any questions, let me know!

(TMTL: too many to list. I'll probably accept most characters requested, if it's not an absurd amount, but don't be surprised if I don't write for someone!)

(Inc. dlc: includes characters in the DLC(s) of the game. Npc's, bosses, etc)

(+: this means that the person mentioned before and after this sign go hand in hand; character x reader x character)

I CURRENTLY WRITE FOR— death stranding (sam p. bridges, higgs monaghan, cliff unger), dark souls 1-3 (TMTL, Inc. dlc), elden ring (TMTL, Inc. dlc), bloodborne (TMTL, Inc. dlc), lies of p (pinocchio, alidoro, romeo), demons souls (ostrava, yurt, garl vinland + maiden astraea), sekiro: shadows die twice (wolf, genichiro, isshin, emma, owl), witch hat atelier (qifrey, olruggio, easthies, beldaruit, utowin, hieheart)

I WILL ACCEPT— headcanons, fluff, yandere, poly.

I WONT ACCEPT— character x character, character x oc, minor x adult, full-on fics, mental illnesses/ disorders towards the reader (I don’t have much knowledge on this topic and don’t want to write them wrong and offend anyone!), any vague requests like (can you do [character] x reader hcs?) so please be specific on what you want!

.ೃ࿐ MASTERLISTS

—death stranding

[cryptidpvppy]

no one gets it but... he was my childhood crush and theres no content for him. NONE.

[iguessigotta]

lorian 19

Intimate Moments prompts #19 - reassuring touches check my pinned post for available characters i hope headcanons are ok! i realized while writing this that my Lorian and Reader are like mirrors of each other. i'd love to play around with that some more

your (much smaller) hands on either side of his face

his (much larger) hand engulfing your hip

when you unconsciously scoot towards him in your sleep

when he curls himself tighter around your body, careful not to wake you

leaning your full weight against his side

him leaning a fraction of his weight against you in response

your hands combing through his hair, his head resting heavy in your lap

when he wakes up - he wasn't aware he fell asleep - to you tucking flowers into the intricate mass of braids you'd done while he'd slept

when he scoops you off the floor, pulling you into his arms and laughing at your surprised yelp before you melt into him

[multifandomhellhole]

What was the gwyndolin fanfiction you lost?? I know a few sites to try and find old fanfictions :v

Uh so like i said it was NSFW so bare with me here but I'll try and summarize it

So essentially reader is a knight devoted to Gwyndolin and they slowly win over his favor through time of battles in which at some point they are told to go bathe in a healing bath to clean up their wounds and remove fatigue. In This bath they start m*sturbating and obviously gwyndolin can read minds so he basically shows up. Instead of being killed gwyndolin does a one time thing of helping us with his snakes turned into tentacles. After he helps us then it's back to normal but for a whole week that's all we can think about in the fic. Literally that's all I got for memory 😭😭 BIT IT WAS SUPER CHARACTER ACCURATE

[lxvvie]

And last but not least, Yuria, please? No rush on any of these!

headcanon about a sexcapade they may have had

Mm. Let's just say that, like her sister, she hasn't been privy to a memorable experience.

write about how they flirt (if they even do)

Yuria is not much of a flirter, though if you count submissiveness as flirting, then... 👀

what turns them on?

Power. Not for power's sake, but the representation of her beliefs, best reflected in the Ashen One, spurs her attraction.

what kind of kisser are they?

If she were to kiss, it is light and teasing. Demure? Fleeting, perhaps?

any other random nsfw headcanon that comes to mind.

Oh, without a doubt, Yuria is a voyeur.

[terrablerequests]

New request blog!

For X-Reader prompts

I'm completely new to writing Xreader so whatever character I'm writing for you is going to sound a little OOC. I do however plan to make up for this by being open to writing anything. ANYTHING!

There is only one person writing for this blog and I am only doing it for fun, requests will take time since I will only write in my free time so be patient.

Primarily reader x character but I am willing to do character x character for certain series. You can also request multiple characters from different series in the same ask.

I will ALWAYS be receiving asks.

Dm if you are unsure about your ask.

Here is what I write for:

Pocky and Rocky (ANY CHARACTER/ENEMY/NPC): #POCKY_POST

Paladins: champions of the realm (champions only, no skins for the time being.): #PALA_POST

Dark souls 1,2,3 (ANY CHARACTER/ENEMY/NPC):

Elden ring (ANY CHARACTER/ENEMY/BOSS):

One step from eden (ANY CHARACTER/ENEMY/NPC): #OSFE_POST

Team fortress 2 (mercs and enemies only): #TF2_POST

Touhou (Anyone including pc98): #2HU_POST

Slay the spire (ANY CHARACTER/ENEMY/BOSS):

Code vein (ANY CHARACTER/ENEMY/BOSS): #VEIN_POST

Fire Emblem (Only engage for now, once I finish shadow dragon I'll add it to the list): #EMBLEM_POST

Will add more later.

Here's how I'll write them:

Headcannons

One-shot (will add this after i do a few requests and get comfortable enough with writing.)

Here's the setups for requests:

SFW

AUs and scenarios (such as Yandere!character)

Platonic asks are allowed.

NSFW

Smut

Basic fetish content

[speed-world]

Hey, I got this idea from watching some Dark Souls lore videos, so can I request a HC of beast cookies being beaten by a chosen Undead reader.

Plot: when the Beast cookies went on a rampage The Witches knew they had to stop them but the cookie were too powerful to do so so they decided to work together to bake a new cookie, a cookie that can weaken them to a point that they can be in prison, a cookie that can come back from the dead as much as possible until the deed is done, they call them the Chosen Undead Cookie

Sworn Purpose

The Five Beasts. The primordial Cookies created by the Witches as emissaries of the Godly Creators; that fell from grace due to their Absolute power corrupting them completely. The Witches couldn’t bear to see their creations promised as saviors turned apostles of evil, and so they punished the Beasts by sealing them away in Beast-Yeast. At least…that was what should have happened.

The Beasts rebelled, refusing to go quiet into the night. They broke free from their shackles and dominated the lands of Beast-Yeast without challenge. The Witches refused to give up however, and would go deeply into a period of heavy trials and error in baking something …greater. They combined their magic to create a Cookie that could complete the task they failed too. A Cookie that would never rest until they sealed these Beasts, even if the Cookie was crumbled. A Cookie that will rise and rise again, as if freshly baked out of the oven, to complete their assigned life purpose. As the Witches spent numerous days and nights creating this Cookie, they’d mix so many flavors into to them that the Cookie was ultimately nameless to the Witches. When finally completed, passerby Cookies knew them only by a couple of names: Y/N Cookie, or their more known, and more appropriate moniker…Chosen Undead Cookie.

It was never easy completing your task, but you never once questioned it or the Witches. They told you all the features and names of the Beasts, that you must do whatever it takes to seal them away, and you followed as such.

During your first attempt, you could barely make a move against a jester before being crumbled in a mess of crumbs and jam. The last thing you heard was the jester laughing before you reawakened in a different location.

One of the many blessings you had received from the Witches was that you could communicate with and hear them. You could hear some the Witches applaud you for your efforts, and others express their apologies for what you must suffer through. It didn’t faze you though, you had a God-given purpose, and you’d curse at yourself if you never finished it. Maybe one day…you could live a fairly normal life, but it won’t happen until your job is done.

“Oh~? Pfffttt AHAHAHAHAHA~~!! Oh this is priceless, you’re still kicking huh? I mean, what attempt is this, number….59? 100? Isn’t this tiring to you buddy~?”

“Silence, jester. I am not tired, not one bit. I have been assigned this duty by the Witches, and I refuse to stop until you Beasts are sealed away…”

You stared at him with the same neutral yet angry expression that you almost always have. He upsets you, just as the other Beasts. And, like him, they will be sealed by your hand sooner or later.

“Really now…? How many times have you said that? And yet the result is still the same! I’ll give you credit though, you’re getting closer each time!! But all that means is that I’m improving myself to make sure you continue to be the failure you are!!”

“Am I the failure, Shadow Milk Cookie? You were meant to be a savior, a hero to all Cookiekind until the end of days, but you failed at your duty. Don’t tell me, are you jealous that I’m favored and know how to follow simple instruction? Does it upset you that I’m succeeding in the role you failed to fulfill?”

“Tch…didja learn to talk all smart while you were in between the states of dying and living? Those Witches can BURN IN THE OVEN, AND YOU’LL JOIN THEM YOU MISERABLE PUPPET!!!”

“….I’m assuming you’re done wasting your breath away now? I’m glad you’ll be the first I seal, your voice annoys me…”

You readied yourself again for the umpteenth time, and stared holes into Shadow Milk Cookie. “You are the miserable one here, jester…” You muttered to yourself, before clashing with the jester once more.

————————————————————————

The cold steps of the Ivory Pagoda are all too familiar for you now. The aroma of the incense, the reflective gold of the tiles, all of it was practically burned in your memory as you approached the Master of the Ivory Pagoda yet again. Of course, you couldn’t meet the Master without seeing the guardian of Ivory Pagoda as well.

“Oh, Master, look who’s back again~! You must really enjoy witnessing the truth that my Master has to show the world! At this point, you’re the most frequent visitor here to the pagoda, maybe you’d want to stay here for the rest of your life~? It’s not like your immortality is doing you any favors being the Witches’s pawn~…”

You ignored the mocking comments of Cloud Haetae Cookie. They’re not what you’re here for anyways, so they can berate you all they want, it won’t take your attention away from your mission. You walked past the haetae and stared up at the Beast, who didn’t even open her eyes to you.

“One day, you will come to see how pointless your mission truly is. Again and again, you challenge my truth and power, and again and again, you fail to understand that you’ll never succeed…”

“That is where your arrogance has mislead you, Mystic Flour Cookie. You insist on yourself so much that you fail to grasp the reality around you. More and more, I grow resistant to your power, and I keep parts of my flavor in spite of being turned to flour. One day, you will come to realize that the madness you speak of will never be heard as you’ll spend your days sealed away as you deserve.”

Mystic Flour Cookie doesn’t bother responding to you. She only waves her hand, uttering the phrase you’ve heard numerous times now: “Return to Flour…”. Your words were true: you were still maintaining your flavor and everything else about you, and only small crumbs were being taken away, albeit incredibly slowly. Then you lounged at her, slashing at her with your blade….and you cut her. Jam leaked out of her thigh from the gash you made. Although your magic and control over the chains and Witch’s fork specialized for sealing the Beasts weren’t strong enough yet, you were making fast progress.

Cloud Haetae Cookie was shocked, but Mystic Flour appeared unfazed as usual. But one thing was abundantly clear, you were improving. Even if you didn’t seal her during this time, you would overcome her powers and seal her away, even if you were crumbled to flour in the process. Mystic Flour will be sealed, just like the other Beasts, and you’ll rise and rise again until your deed is done and all of the Beasts are sealed away.

————————————————————————

Hellish blazing embers and the ruins of forests are the most recognizable sight you know. Whenever you hear the fires crackling, you know that you’re close to Burning Spice Cookie. Burning Spice stares daggers into you just as you stare a hole back.

“You again, eh? How many times are we going to do the same song and dance until you’ve crumbled for good? Those damned Witches must have spent days, perhaps weeks trying to perfect a herald to defeat us, and your failure of an existence is all they have to show for their efforts. It would be funny, if it weren’t so sad and true…”

“I’ll keep coming back as many times as needed until you—“

“Yeah yeah, until us Beasts are sealed away. You’re a broken record at this point, and it’s really beginning to annoy the Hell out of me…. Then again, you do have your uses for being a toy, free for me to play with and break whenever I feel like it. So c’mon, let’s not waste words and entertain me, Chosen fool~…”

You smirked at Burning Spice; at least you two could agree on something, that being words are useless at this point. You steeled yourself and gripped your sword tightly, and Burning Spice did the same with that giant axe in hand. All you need to do is seal away Burning Spice, and even if you crumbled in the process, it will be done.

————————————————————————

The skies were an incredibly dark shade of pink, and you’ve slowly grown to hate it when the skies were like this. Mainly because you knew who it was that was around, and Witches did Eternal Sugar Cookie, wielding the power of Sloth, utterly piss you off.

All Eternal Sugar did was yawn on top of the cloud she rested on, and looked at you haphazardly with her hand resting on her cheek*

*Yaaaaaaawwwwnn* “Ahh, who’re you again? You always come here for ah…some mission from the Witch’s I think? Can’t you bother anyone else with your nonsense, I have a lot of better things to do than waste my precious energy on you agaaaaiinn…”

The tone in Eternal Sugar’s voice and manner is what really bothered you the most. Although it was fitting of the Sloth power she held, she just couldn’t care less about you or whatever inhumane actions she did to others. Granted, you weren’t much for words yourself, the most you talk is when dealing with the annoyance is Shadow Milk Cookie, so at least with Eternal Sugar you can get right to the point without any hesitation.

“At least you know what I’m here for, Beast…I’ll gladly make sure you’ve suffered in the last moments of your recreation…”

“Mhmmm, sure thing. Just hurry up and crumble already so you can bother someone else when you resurrect, please~….

Without waiting anymore, you charged at the lackadaisical Beast. Thankfully, the more you do this the more stronger and better you’re getting. Because the sooner you seal away Eternal Sugar, the better. Not just for the Witch’s and Cookiekind, but for the sake of your own mind.

————————————————————————

The eerie silence of the area you stepped into would be enough to scare any being beyond belief. It was dark, quiet, perfectly becoming the scene any scared children would have when fearing the dark. Only this was no dream, is was the brutal reality of a vicious Beast that you could never seem to get an upper hand against.

Silent Salt Cookie was just standing there, sword in hand as always. Out of all the Beasts, Silent Salt doesn’t do anything else now except wait for you. Silent Salt knows of your ability to keep coming back to life after dying and knew sooner or later you’d be back.

The quietness from you and Silent Salt was loud and easy to understand. You weren’t much for words yourself, no need to start now with a quiet Cookie. You both knew each other well enough, understanding the other’s goal in mind as you both nodded and readied your swords yet again. The area soon became loud with the sounds of clashing swords in a struggle of life and death.

Until your mission is fulfilled, until the Beasts are sealed away and no longer a threat to Cookiekind, then you will be raised from the dead. Retaining your mixture of flavors, knowledge and power, and using all of them against the foul Beasts that defiled their roles as promised saviors. Until the deed is done…

[lumierexfics]

-> Valentine's Day event

[wxnheart]

𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - 𝐅!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐒𝐮𝐛!𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐫 𝐎𝐫𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐢𝐧

Dragonslayer Ornstein whose poise and intimidating nature masks a rather... submissive side.

Dragonslayer Ornstein who keeps mum about the dynamics of your relationship and would rather the rest of Anor Londo make assumptions. And assumptions they make.

Dragonslayer Ornstein who, thanks to you, has found out that he quite likes it when you take control and... and you command him. Oh gods...

Dragonslayer Ornstein who is the picture of corrupted delight as your every caress turns him into a needy whore. Gods he needed this. It took the stress off an otherwise demanding job.

Dragonslayer Ornstein who loves it when you frustrate him by making him beg. You've been edging him for the better part of about ten minutes now and the fun hasn't even started yet.

Dragonslayer Ornstein who is so beautiful in his wanting. He thinks it so unseemly and unbecoming of his status when he becomes lost in the pleasure, eyes hazy and whimpers and groans falling from his lips. Duties and status be damned but you'll do everything in your power to draw more pleasure from him.

Dragonslayer Ornstein who bites his lip to keep from screaming (and letting all of Anor Londo hear him) as you grasp his hair and keep him in place as you savagely fuck him. He didn't know he enjoyed your ministrations until he buried his head between your legs and you rode your orgasm out on his face.

Dragonslayer Ornstein who whimpers when you grab his head and make him look at you as he's about to cum. And he's such a good obedient knight for you. You always make him come hard.

Dragonslayer Ornstein who yearns for more even as he's spent and overstimulated and you indulge him. You indulge him every time.

Just Dragonslaying things...

[a-spes]

| PRETTY FACES, DARK SOULS - Chapter one (4,382 words).

| Summary - you rob the wrong person and she makes sure that you pay your debts, willingly or not.

| Tags & warnings - Minors DNI, Dark CEO!Natasha Romanoff x fem!Reader, just fluff for the moment, slight angst (if you squint), mentions of sex.

| MOODBOARD — ✧ — MASTERLIST — ✧ — TO SAY SOMETHING

| Part one. Part two. Part three.

Your eyes meet their reflection in the mirror, looking for the slightest detail that isn’t right but, if you were seeking for imperfections, you are unable to find any.

Everything was perfect, and even you were struggling to recognize your face, you would have probably fallen into your own trap and that thought satisfies you. It took you several hours locked up in that dingy room to achieve this result, but you have no regrets as you are eventually able to look at your disguise.

No one would have guessed that you were the one hiding behind that mask that changed every feature of your face.

No one knows you enough to be able to notice the smallest details in your attitude that were giving hints about your true identity. You were sure that no one would notice the way you are moving your head when being disturbed by something or your hand constantly running in the skin of your hands. There are a lot of small habits you tried to suppress, but it was in vain, every of your persona inevitably ended up having a part of you in them.

Despite the dust covering the mirror, you can admire every feature of who you are going to be tonight: Lydia Golvorezova. She looks like an angel and it’s not only because her hair is so blonde that it looks white or because of her porcelain skin and innocent eyes that makes her look like a doll, but mainly because she is stunning. There is something unreal in her beauty that gives the impression that she couldn’t possibly be human. 

This name was never yours, but it fits perfectly the person you could see in the mirror right now. It was perfect to embody the innocence and naivety you were reading in her eyes, it was perfect to give the feeling of power and fragility at the same time. 

The way you have done your makeup only adds to the effect. In appearance, it is something really simple, but the truth is that it took you hours to get that result as you wanted to look as perfect and young as possible. 

It is not that you are old, only being an adult for a few years now, but you figured out that the younger you look, the easier things are. Most of the people you are going to meet tonight have a preference for girls that haven't been broken by life yet, for the ones that haven't harsh features accompanied by a cold gaze: they like what is easy to manipulate.

They are desperate to feel powerful and it’s becoming pitiful, even ridiculous. 

When you entered the toilets of the gas station, hours ago, nobody paid attention to you because you were blending in perfectly with your surroundings. It is that you are not as interesting as Lydia Golvorezova, nor as rich. No one ever notices the young girl with stained clothes, they even avoid her gaze at all cost, scared she would ask for money — if only they knew that she is the same person than the one they can’t take their eyes off now.

If you’ve arrived discreetly, you can’t say the same thing when you leave the room. You could feel the gaze of the few customers that were here on your back, but the worst is probably the cashier’s one. You have to clear your throat as a reminder that you are waiting so that her gaze would stop wandering for a little too long where it shouldn’t be, even for a brief moment. 

While she is scanning your articles with obvious embarrassment, you can’t help but smile. You love the way she avoids your gaze, the way her cheeks are flushed and how her voice is only a whisper when she tells you how much you owe. The poor thing probably fears that you would snap at her for such an offense, but honestly you were just enjoying the situation.

You love it when they fall that easily in the trap you set for them. 

Tonight, to match your makeup, you decided to wear a black dress that you bought just for the event. Your back is bare and it reveals enough of your chest to catch the attention without being vulgar: it’s right at the frontier between what’s elegant and what’s indecent, and that’s why it’s the perfect choice.

You wish you could keep it, but even the money you’re stealing isn’t enough for you to afford such things: you need it to buy things that are essential to your life, and no matter how pretty you're in that dress, you could survive without it.  

Again, the story between the luxurious dress you choose and you is going to be nothing more than a one night thing. It will be returned tomorrow, as soon as the store opens — you didn’t even take the price tag off. But you’re hopeful that, one day, you will be able to purchase that kind of clothes for real, that you will be one of those people that shop without looking at the prices before they pay.

It always takes you so much time to prepare yourself because everything needs to be perfect. When your life is at stake, paying attention to every detail is the key, you can’t take the risk to be recognized, no one should be able to see behind the mask you decide to wear. 

So, when you get the confirmation that you’ve made the right choices, it is always a deep relief. You tried to gather as much information as you can on tonight's event and the people that are supposed to come, but in the end there is always a lot left to chance. You can spend as much time as you want preparing yourself for what’s coming, it’s impossible to predict everything.

You are not from the same world as them, you’re just pretending to be, and it doesn’t matter how many times you did it with success, you'll always be an outsider. There are so many rules that you don’t know that something as insignificant as a word or a look could be enough to give your identity away.

Hopefully, for the moment everything seems to go fine, the dress you choose was perfect for this evening, at the frontier between elegant and indecent, and no one seems to notice the intruder.  

A driver left you in front of the expensive hotel that hosts the event, and you barely had time to unbuckle your belt that a butler was already opening the door for you, helping you to get out of the car. You have to fight the urge to refuse the hand he is holding out to you, and take it with a smile on your face instead. You constantly need to remind yourself about where your place is tonight: at the top of the pyramid, among the ones that do nothing by themselves.

For someone like you, someone that has been on their own for most of their life, it’s weird to be assisted to this extent, and you hate it as much as the first time. This man complies to every of your demands because he fears you, and not because he wants to, let alone because he's paid for it — his salary probably not being enough for the evening he’s going to have. 

If only he knew your reality is closer to his than it’s from theirs, you thought as he walked you toward the entrance, but you can't share it with him. You have to play along, to pretend that you’re Lydia Golvorezova perfectly if you don’t want to ruin your plans, even if it includes being rude with a man for whom you have compassion.

Tonight, the butler didn’t get anything from you except a ridiculous penny that you gave him as if he should be grateful for it, as if this action was a symbol of infinite kindness — which he is going to do, thanking you a lot of time for that. The whole time, not a word has been exchanged, you would rather keep your voice for the ones that are worth the effort.

Just like the man that caught your eyes the moment you entered the luxurious hall, Clint Barton. You read an article about him a few days ago, he works as a bodyguard for heads of major companies, despite what one might think, his position makes him an influential and wealthy man, everything you are looking for tonight, so you didn’t hesitate much before making your way toward him. 

“Excuse me?” you asked, clearing your throat to get his attention, and you felt the glance of every man he was previously talking with on you, the sudden attention made you feel uncomfortable. “May I?” you added, accompanying your words by a small gesture of the hand toward the glasses of champagne he was standing in front of, feigning being so interested by those. 

“Oh, yeah, sure,” he said, immediately stepping aside so you could access the table. “I am sorry for that, miss .. ?” he added and you can’t help but grin at his attempt to learn your name - it was almost too easy.

You barely exchanged a few words, nothing out of the ordinary, but he was already crushing himself to fulfill your desires, already eager for more, and the way he is gazing at you leaves no doubts on the thoughts in his mind, something too indecent for a place like that one.

“Golvorezova, and you?” you replied, the false name slipping easily out of your mouth as you slip nimbly between him and the men he was previously talking to.

It is hard to not smile, to pretend that you didn't notice the way they are glancing at you, with anger and frustration, because you’ve just ruined their only chance to talk to him, too bad that you don’t care. Tonight, Barton is yours.

You don’t care more about the glasses of champagne than you do about these guys, it was just a way to get what you want. You’ve been fond of alcohol, you’ve seen how it changes people’s minds, taking control of their thoughts and bodies, and you would rather continue to use it to your advantage than becoming a victim of it. Even a sip of alcohol could be dangerous, and you would be stupid to drink while working, so you’re just pretending to enjoy the champagne.

“Barton,” he replied briefly, holding his hand out to you for you to shake - which you did with a faint smile on your lips.

“So, do you already know what you're going to bid on?” you asked, trying to pursue the conversation.

You both glance around for a few seconds, not a word is exchanged, just a shrug that underlines his boredom. Despite this party being marked as a charity event, most of the guests are here for other reasons: make an appearance, meet future associates, talk about business, show the world how rich and powerful they are, … there are many reasons for their presence, but none of them is disinterested. His answer is proof that he doesn't care about what’s for sale, maybe he doesn’t even know for whom the benefits are. He will drop an outrageous amount of money, just to pretend he did something good to help those people when he is the cause of their pain, people like you getting their lives destroyed by people like him. 

Tonight isn’t about charity, it's about power and influence. That’s why you’re always tense when attending those events, the stakes are bigger than they are for a private party, and so are the risks. Tonight, the whole world has its eyes on what’s happening in that hotel. If you make a mistake, everyone will know, because no one escapes the spotlight tonight, and you're no exception to the rule. 

“But, I think I’ve just found the most precious prize,” he said as his gaze came back to you, his smirk letting no doubt about the true meaning behind his words. Maybe if he was a bit more observant he would've noticed how your grip tightens on your glass.

You can’t help but smile, a sign he is going to misinterpret for sure, because behind it, it’s your disgust that’s hidden. He is probably something like twice your age, at least, and doesn’t seem to be interested in anything other than your body.

But the money is worth every sacrifice. 

You are about to give him the reply he probably waits to hear, but you are cut before you can even say one word. It is a feminine voice whose tone makes your blood run cold, and even though her words aren’t addressed to you, you feel like you’re the one that did something wrong.

“Does Laura know about your plans?” she asked, and from the way he glanced at her, you guess that she doesn’t.

You felt the woman’s hand on your shoulder before you could see her face. It is only when he left that she took his place, allowing you to meet her gaze. She is stunning, and contrary on you, she wasn’t just playing to be pretty, she truly was. 

“Men…,” she sighed as she looked at him walking away, but the truth is that he doesn’t really leave, you can still feel his gaze on you, even from the other side of the room. “I hope he didn't bother you? He can be a bit… inconsiderate sometimes, especially with the pretty girls,” she added, and you realize she is looking you up and down, her glance wandering a bit longer at the same places than the man’s one earlier. 

She is not better than him, you thought, maybe a few years younger than he is, but that’s all, they’re from the same world, you have to remind yourself when you realize you too were observing her for a bit too long.

On the outside, you’re still smiling, letting nothing appear on what’s disturbing your mind, but somehow having the feeling that she knows, and you only shake your head, letting her know that everything is fine.

“I don't think I’ve ever seen you …,” she added once she understood you wouldn't say anything, not letting you a chance to find an excuse to slip through her fingers.

Despite appearances, and how friendly the conversation seems to be, the atmosphere is tense between the two of you, it’s like a game has started ; which one is gonna find the other’s secret first? And she never loses a game. 

If she interrupted your conversation with Barton, it wasn’t to help you, but him. She doesn't care about his wife, Clint can cheat on her if he wants, it's none of her business as long as his problem doesn’t impact his work, and you look exactly like that kind of problem.

If there is something she cares about, it’s the raptors that get a little too close to her associates, especially the ones that would easily give off information about her business, and Clint may be good at his job, but he doesn’t know when to keep his mouth shut. 

She doesn't trust you, and one glance was enough for her to get to that statement. If it wasn’t for Clint, she wouldn’t even have talked to you, but she knows how naive he can be sometimes - and maybe this conversation will help her to point out the thing that bothers her about you, something she hasn’t figured out yet.

“It’s probably because it’s my first in the United States,” you replied, your voice dripping with false sympathy.

You don’t like the woman either, but at least you are hiding your thoughts, something she doesn’t even try to do. You are smiling at her, the expression on your face being so innocent that she questions her instincts, you don’t even seem to catch the threats behind her actions or the true meaning of her words — how someone that oblivious ended up attending such an event? Something she wouldn’t have thought if she was able to see the rage hidden behind your smile, the frustration, the hatred that is slowly growing, because every second spent with her reduces your chances of success.

She sent Barton away, but most importantly, she doesn’t seem to believe everything you say as he would have, and the way she hummed after your last answer gave you a feeling of danger, something is telling you to give up the mission, but you don’t. 

“I don’t think I know you either,” you replied, the words slipping from your mouth almost on their own. The conversation probably could have ended up here, if only you hadn't been so curious, if you didn’t genuinely want to learn more about the woman.

“Romanoff,” she eventually said, she seems about to add something else but hesitate for a few seconds before talking, deciding to keep the rough comment she was about to make for herself, “but you can call me Natasha, if you want,” she added, her tone softening to the surprise of you both. 

The last words fell from her lips on their own, and they felt like the right thing to say. Maybe it is the way you’re looking at her, with those innocent eyes and smile, that led her to let her guard down so easily. She is trying to find an explanation, but the only satisfying one that comes to her mind is that you are an angel, sent to charm her with that pretty face. 

An angel, that’s the word, the only one that’s strong enough to describe what she is seeing right now. From the way the dress follows your curves to the soft features of your face, everything is perfect in her eyes, and even if she tried to, she can’t find a single defect, any more than she is able to keep her suspicions.

She even feels guilty for the way she talked to you previously, her words had been so harsh when you seem to genuinely just want to talk with Barton, not even knowing her name, something unbelievable for someone from her world, someone used to always be a target for everyone, never a friend to anyone. 

But you are not from the same world as her, or Barton, she can tell just by looking into your eyes, and that’s the whole problem, because she has no idea how to evolve around someone of your kind, someone that doesn’t even know her name. Her reality is rough, a place where pity and kindness doesn’t exist, where everything is just about who’s the most powerful, it is a world without limits, without morals, and you are the complete opposite. 

You are looking like you are made of glass, and when she looks into your eyes, the only thing she sees is the innocence one can only find in the gaze of children. She can tell that you haven’t been broken by life yet, which is a miracle on this planet, and a part of her wants to protect you. She knows it is a selfish wish, because she wants to lock you in a golden cage, somewhere you would be safe and get everything you need, except your freedom. She would hate to see an angel being corrupted, not when they are so rare.  

“You can call me Lydia then,” you replied, surprised but satisfied by the turn the events took, maybe you still have a chance to complete the mission. You have no idea what changed her mind, and you don’t question it, but you notice that you somehow now have the woman wrapped around your little finger, and you barely did a thing.

“Lydia,” she repeated after you, as if she needed to say it to believe it, to be sure that you existed, and that you are not some sort of dream, “let me show you around then,” she added, coming back to reality, “the city has a lot of secrets, and I am sure you would appreciate at least some of them.”

Even if it sounds like a question, it is not. She is almost begging you to follow her, as if you would be the one doing a favor to her, when in reality it is the opposite. When you nod, a genuine smile appears on her face, she seems relieved, as if she feared that you could say no. You barely have time to say a word that her hand was already on your lower back, applying a light pressure to guide you outside.

Despite what you said earlier, you know exactly who Natasha Romanoff is, it would have been impossible to ignore her identity when her face is everywhere on the news and streets. However, apart from her name, you don’t know a lot about the woman. She is quite mysterious, always refusing interviews, never answering personal questions, and nothing can be found online, she is a ghost. 

All you know are the rumors that depict her as someone that gets everything she wants, and it’s no coincidence that she is now at the head of one of the richest companies on earth. She built her fortune from scratch, and some people say that if she was able to earn that much money so quickly, it’s because part of her business is illegal. However, there is no proof of that, and it’s probably just an idea her opponents are fueling in the hope that it will tarnish her reputation, and impact her business at the same time.

Perhaps you would have acted more prudently if you had those rumors in mind when talking to the woman, but those were forgotten the moment her hand found its way on your back, the way her thumb is brushing circles on your skin being so soft that you let your guard down. For once, maybe you’re going to enjoy the evening, and maybe you will come home feeling something that isn’t self-disgust.

Maybe she is a mean CEO, that would explain the rumors, but maybe life left her no choice, maybe she is a bit like you, a woman that tries her best to survive in this world. When you observe her face under the moonlight, it’s all you can think about.

✧ • ✧ • ✧ • ✧ • ✧

It is later that day, in the secret of her hotel room, that everything happened. Just as usual, you convinced your victim to make the night last a bit longer, and she brought you to that luxurious room where she is staying. It has been only the two of you, and you actually enjoyed the feeling of her hands on your skin. The praises she whispered in your ears when you were begging her, desperate for the release she denied you, is all you can think about as you are leaving the building the next morning.

The thought of the dirty things she did and told to you are enough to make you blush again, and you are surprised to realize that you’re already missing her presence. You chase those thoughts away, far from your mind, by telling yourself that it was just a play, something that needed to be done, and she will probably be quick to forget about your existence.

She probably used you as much as you did anyway, you noticed the way she looked at you as if you were a porcelain doll, something to possess, something to break. It was a one night thing for the both of you, and it’s probably better that way.

However, this morning, when you woke up, you were reluctant. You wanted to stay in bed, in the warmth of the bed forever, you almost left without stealing anything, feeling guilty to do that to the woman — it was easier when you were hating your victim. You would’ve probably left without taking anything if you didn’t need the money so badly, and you’re sure she won’t miss a few dollars.

By the time she notices you are gone, you are already far away. She was getting out of the bathroom, asking you what you would like for breakfast, and the silence that met her question made her realize that the room was empty, you left. 

She was standing in the middle of the room, wrapped in a towel, and her eyes were scanning the room with desperation. The only proof that last night was real are the memories of you beneath her, and a piece of paper on the bedside table. She immediately reached for it, but the paper didn’t say much, and the few words you wrote left a feeling of disappointment in her chest: “Sorry, I have to go, but thanks, the night was cool.” 

She doesn’t know what she was hoping for, but for sure she was hoping for more than that, maybe your number, or a promise to come back. It made her feel so silly, and she crumpled the paper before throwing it away, erasing the only evidence of your visit in her room.

Natasha would have liked to share one last moment with you, she thought about getting breakfast at that fancy restaurant across the street. She is thinking about how you would have enjoyed watching the sun rise over the city, as she is sitting here alone. She wished she had a chance to say goodbye to you, because maybe then she would’ve been able to get your number, or anything that would have allowed you to stay in touch, or maybe you didn’t want to. Perhaps you learned about the rumors, and that’s why you left so quickly this morning.

She has been here for maybe one hour when a waitress brings her the note. She was lost in her thoughts the whole time, and barely ate the expensive breakfast she ordered, but she couldn’t care less, money is not a problem when you are one of the richests people on that planet. But to her surprise, when she looks into her wallet, she finds it empty — you only left a few coins.

| MOODBOARD — ✧ — MASTERLIST — ✧ — TO SAY SOMETHING

| Part one. Part two. Part three.

| Tag list : no one atm, but if you're interested, let me know!