#foods to avoid before blood test

[ajaiswal654321]

What Should I Eat to Get Accurate Blood Test Results? - Miles

Learn what you should eat to get good blood test results. Book an appointment with Miles Pharmacy for a blood test.

[oepionie]

— "HE'S THE OTHER MAN!" . the corpse groom

SYNOPSIS: A ghost groom has claimed MC as his unwilling bride. Unfortunately for him, she's already got a lover

⊹ [ c.w ] — violence, possessive behavior, malleus blows a fucking green laser down ramshackle, mentions of blood, yuu is poor but we alrdy knew that, papa crewel crumbs

⊹ [ w.c ] — 1.6k opening post with malleus! if this gets enough attention, I might do more :P

"You what?" Crewel seethed, eyes wide as an unsettling smile stretched across the red of his cheeks.

"Repeat that."

"I…I accidentally released that ghost from the spellbook," Grim sobbed, his glossy eyes reflecting both fear and guilt as he looked up at the imposing figure of the professor. "And he's taken my henchhuman as his bride!"

Oh, Great Sevens. Not again.

Crewel groaned, his hands reaching up to frantically rub at his burning eyes. The flickering candlelight cast erratic shadows across his face.

"Please, do tell. How in Wonderland did someone with your lackluster skills manage to—" The professor was abruptly cut off by a loud, almost obnoxious cry that echoed from the doorway. Turning sharply, Crewel saw Crowley hunched against the entrance frame, hysterically sobbing into his palms. Fat tears dripped beneath his ornate mask, glistening in the low light. "They grow up so fast! My dear child is already getting married!"

Crewel's eye twitched as he took in the scene: Grim shaking like a leaf, and Crowley, dramatically weeping, pathetically looking to him for a solution.

"Fools," Crewel snarled, striding out of the room as he fished his phone from his coat pocket. "If you two won't be of use, then I'll have to enlist the help of those mutts instead."

The day had started like any other in Ramshackle, but you certainly didn't expect it to end with a wedding. Surrounded by the ghostly residents of the dorm, you stood dressed in all white, a bouquet clutched in your hand. Curling in yourself, you sighed and rested your head in your hands, avoiding everyone's gazes which felt like icy needles on your skin.

Ramshackle's old lounge, with its worn-out floorboards and faded wallpaper, was the chosen venue for your ceremony. Whispers rustled through the gathering, carried on a faint breeze that stirred the dust motes in the dim light. Somewhere in the background, the somber notes of an organ piano echoed. You didn't even know you had a piano…

"Dear?"

Jumping with a shriek, you whipped your head around. A ghostly visage, bathed in a deathly pale blue glow, hovered inches from your face, an unnaturally wide grin stretched across their blue lips. Bony fingers gently traced up your cheeks, sending tingles down your spine.

With sunken eyes and high, sharp cheekbones, Elizan—a "visiting" friend of one of Ramshackle's ghosts—was truly a sight to behold. His complexion had a pallor that matched the moonlight filtering through the decrepit windows of the form. Wisps of long, flowing indigo hair framed his face, swept back as if caught in a breeze that only he could feel.

"You look wonderful," he cooed, pressing a featherlight kiss to your forehead, leaving your cheeks burning.

"Ah. Thank you," you stammered, averting your gaze and gently pulling away. You could hardly focus on the words being spoken to you, your mind spinning with the surrealness of it all.

"You look... Good as well," you forced out with a cough, tugging at your hair nervously. "But... Listen... I—"

Before you could finish, the door to the entrance slammed open, nearly breaking off the hinges with a sound that could wake the dead, sending cracks spider-webbing through the already dilapidated walls.

On the inside, you screamed louder than the hinges.

You had painstakingly patched up the door after Grim's recent screw-up—a feat that had tested your patience and carpentry skills to their limit. Unless you wanted to survive on a diet of stale canned food and cafeteria leftovers for another year, you couldn't afford any more repairs.

While you were busy mourning the loss of having decent meals, heaving and leaning against the door for support, your friends called out your name in a panic, their bleary and furious gazes zeroing in on your figure. Clad in white, you stood there, the perfect picture of a pretty blushing bride.

The uninvited guests didn't go unnoticed by your "groom," and in seconds, you were pulled into a suffocating grip. Elizan's usually serene demeanor shattered like fragile glass. His deathly pale features contorted into a snarl, veins pulsing ominously beneath translucent skin. His typically gentle eyes blazed with an unsettling fire, icy whites now narrowed and piercing.

"Mutt!" Crewel seethed, his foot slamming into the floor and shattering the newly installed tiles. Your soul nearly left your body as you screamed inside again. There go a thousand thaumarks…

"What in the Sevens is this!?" Crewel shrieked, running a gloved hand through his tousled hair. With sharp movements, he pointed a finger at Elizan. "I'll have you know I can have you arrested for trespassing, unlawful detention, and violating the sanctity of this academy!"

"How... How dare you? Barging into this sacred ceremony—Who even are you?!" Elizan snapped back, his arms coiling tightly around your torso. The crowd erupted in a haze of shouts and muddled answers. Unable to understand anything, Elizan's intense gaze shifted and bore into yours, demanding answers. You gulped nervously, suddenly feeling small and vulnerable in his grasp.

"Who is he?! Who are they?!" he barked like a dog, flashing his sharp fangs at you.

"Uh… That's my professor—uh, Crewel," you stammered, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart. "And those are… They're my… friends?" Your gaze flickered to the group of men who had entered, their expressions ranging from confusion to anger.

Elizan's wide eyes now filled with shock, white orbs glossed over with luminescent blue tears. He pushed you away as if you had burnt him, recoiling from your touch as though it pained him physically.

"You know other men?!" the ghost cried out, his hands clenching into fists, his midnight blue hair cascading wildly around his face like a tempestuous sea. The tortured cries of the groom echoed through the room, sending a shiver down your spine as you awkwardly shifted on your feet, feeling like a character caught in an soap drama.

"…Yes?" you replied, unsure.

"How could you do this to me?!" He sobbed, a dark shadow covering his face. "Running off on an affair the DAY of our marriage?!"

"Well, that's a rather dramatic accusation—" you started, but Elizan shook his head in anguish.

"Answer me! Do you have another man?!" His voice shook the room, and you took a few cautious steps back.

"Elizan, please," you uttered gently, your eyes darting nervously toward one of the men in the room.

Your lover didn't meet your gaze; instead, his eyes were locked onto the ghost, a storm of emotions brewing beneath his features. As you jumped down from the makeshift podium, you shot an apologetic frown at the ghost, hoping to diffuse the escalating situation. "Don't you understand? You're the other man."

"No! You're married to me!" Elizan shrieked, lunging forward in a frenzy, his nails clawing at the air as if trying to grasp something intangible. "Whoever he is—He's the other man!"

MALLEUS DRACONIA

"Whoever he is—He's the other man!"

Lilia raised an eyebrow with a chuckle, his form reclined against a fogged-up window of the room. The weather was gloomy and stormy, the skies tinted green outside, casting an eerie glow over the scene. The window pane, streaked with raindrops and mist, blurred the view of the turbulent skies beyond. Lilia hummed a tune under his breath, a calm figure amidst the brewing storm.

With a sidelong glance, his eyes locked onto Malleus, whose entire figure shook with a barely contained wrath that threatened to engulf the very air around him. The young prince's chest heaved in violent, choked breaths as smoke wisped from his mouth and nose—tendrils of flames flickering amidst the swirling dust and ash.

A deafening crack tore through the air as a vivid surge of green emerald lightning erupted from the heavens, descending upon the roof of the venue with explosive force. The blast of energy painted the sky with a blinding flash of green as it crashed into the building, sending broken glass and wood raining down upon the venue.

Cursing, Elizan moved you both aside, a large chunk of debris hurtling past, narrowly missing your startled form. As more debris crashed down, he shielded you with an outstretched arm, a shimmering barrier briefly forming to deflect a particularly large piece of wood.

"Spectral pest," Malleus seethed, his eyes aglow with an eerie green hue as his nails elongated into sharp claws. With a click of his tongue, he raised his hands, summoning thorns that spiraled towards Elizan, ensnaring the ghost in their sharp embrace. Simultaneously, from the floorboards below, vines emerged like serpents, their tendrils gently but firmly pulling you away from Elizan's protective embrace and guiding you into the safety of Malleus's arms.

"How—?! Ngh!" Elizan writhed against the thorny vines. The prickly tendrils twisted around him like serpents, their sharp points digging into his ghostly flesh.

Malleus paid no mind to the struggling spirit, keeping his gaze fixed on you as he checked for any signs of harm. His expression softened with relief upon finding you unscathed, albeit a bit dusty.

"Beloved," he murmured, his voice a soothing balm amidst the lingering chaos. His gloved hand moved delicately, sweeping away the clinging dust from your shoulders and arms. Pressing a tender kiss to your forehead, his lips lingered there briefly, conveying a warmth that contrasted starkly with the raw power he had displayed moments ago.

"Are you alright?"

Blinking up at him with wide eyes and frazzled hair shooting up in every direction, you nodded dumbly. Turning away from him, you nearly gasped aloud to see the room in shambles, debris scattered everywhere, and the eerie green glow of energy still lingering in the air. The ghostly residents were in a state of panic, their translucent forms flickering as they moved frantically.

"My dorm," you whimpered, your mind racing as you calculated the cost of the damage.

With a chuckle, Malleus adjusted his grip on you, his muscles flexing as he gently set you down. Your legs felt shaky as you tried to steady yourself.

"I will handle the cost of repair, my dearest," Malleus assured you, bending down to your height, his voice dropping to a whisper. Green eyes bore into yours, strands of his midnight hair falling over his face. "You will not need to worry about such things once we are formally betrothed."

You froze, your face suddenly warming and burning.

"What?!"

Malleus reached out, gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering against your cheek, claws dragging across your supple cheeks. "Yes, my dear," he murmured, chest rumbling as his lips curved into a sharp smile. "You heard me correctly."

"I… I don't know what to say," you whispered, feeling dizzy with emotion.

"Will you consider it?" he asked softly, a faint hint of a smirk playing on his lips. "Please?"

Caught in the depth of his gaze, you felt your resolve melting away. "I-I guess?" you breathed, your voice trembling. "I'll… consider it."

A smug smile spread across his face, and he tenderly pressed his lips against yours. "That's all I ask, my dearest."

After ensuring you were alright one last time, Malleus redirected his focus to Elizan. With a flick of his wrist, the thorns under his control tightened around the ghost. Elizan shrieked and thrashed about, his translucent form writhing in pain as the thorns dug deeper.

"Do try to exercise some restraint, my boy," Lilia drawled, tapping his sharp fingers idly against his crossed arms. "We do not want Ramshackle to be bathed in blood. It would be very unsanitary."

not too sure if i am continuing but feel free to suggest some peepl bookies

[ckret2]

Chapter 64 of human Bill Cipher being 50% the prisoner & 50% the weird guest of the Mystery Shack:

Soos makes a deeply significant moral decision. To redecorate!

If you're seeing this picture, it's because I either didn't have enough time to draw a better one before the queue spat out this chapter, or I decided that nothing else I could draw would be half as funny.

####

Whenever Soos faced something difficult, he talked to Abuelita. And Bill was nothing if not something difficult.

Soos laid out the situation to her in the living room as she watched her telenovelas—she didn't mind the distraction, she far preferred real life drama over anything they put on TV. He told her about the confiscated canes, the daily injuries, the bargaining for food, the threat of forced showers, the bruises and burns and blood Bill said nothing about. He told her about Bill's door trick and how he'd only used it to talk to a teen about life and tuck a kid into bed. Once he'd told Abuelita all his thoughts, she nodded slowly, eyes still fixed to the TV screen; and for the moment, said nothing.

The doctor on TV confirmed the tearful new mother's suspicions that her husband had cheated (DNA tests confirmed the baby was another woman's), and Abuelita muted the show as it went to a commercial break. Soos waited as she collected her thoughts to render her judgment.

"I have been talking to Mr. Cipher for the last month or so. He keeps me company while I cook so I do not poison him again," she said. "I think he is ruthless, manipulative, and self-centered."

Soos winced, but nodded. "That's true."

Abuelita went on, "I like him. He is self-confident. He's blunt in a way you only get when you're old and cynical. I think he is a bad person; but, many bad people are good company."

"That's also true." Soos nodded again thoughtfully. Like whenever a comic book had a young idealistic superhero team up with an old jaded ex-villain who played by his own rules, and they ended up best friends, in spite of their glaring ethical and political differences.

"But, more importantly than whether he is a good person or a bad person," Abuelita said, "he is a person. And if you do not like a person, there are three ways you can deal with him." She counted off on her fingers, "You can kill him; you can avoid him; or you can set your feelings aside, and treat him with decency. Yes, get rid of the people who are bad for you—but no matter how terrible a person is, you must treat him like a person."

Soos's eyes lit up. "Oh, like with grandpa!"

Abuelita nodded slowly. "Yes. Just like grandpa."

"Yeah but—what if treating him decently is, you know... dangerous? Like if he uses any privileges we give him to do bad stuff? The Pines think he will. And I think he might be secretly talking to his cultists or whatever? Who miiight wanna destroy the world? But what if they can't destroy the world actually, and if I tell about the people he's talking to, he gets treated even worse..."

"Without his devil powers, he couldn't destroy a bookclub," Abuelita said. "But, if he is so dangerous, are you going to kill him?"

"No. I actually don't think we can anymore?"

"Are you going to avoid him?"

Soos let out a heavy sigh. "I can't as long as he lives here."

Abuelita shrugged, as if to say there you have it. "You are a good, kind man, mijo. I am sure you will figure out the right thing to do."

####

He took Melody out for lunch. They went through a drive-thru so they could park and talk privately in the truck.

She took a firmer stance on it than Abuelita. "I do not want to be stuck with Bill forever," she said. "I could put up with it this long because I thought the Pines would get rid of him as soon as possible! Now that he's staying here indefinitely...?" She shook her head. "I really don't like it, Soos."

Soos wasn't surprised. "Do... you think they should have 'gotten rid' of him?"

Melody paused, then shook her head again. "This whole thing is such a bizarre situation. Like, I can get why it makes sense to execute the guy that can end the world, but... I just don't think that's a decision two random guys with a big gun should be allowed to make," she said. "Honestly? I think we should call some federal agency and put him in jail somewhere. You know I've been iffy on Ford's 'only we can contain Bill' thing from the start."

"Yeah. I know." Soos agreed with Ford—he was the Bill expert, he would know—but he couldn't say Melody was wrong, either.

"Our wedding's scheduled for the end of summer," Melody said. "And... I'm sorry, Soos, but I just can't live under the same roof as the guy that turned me into a statue. We'll still get married—"

"—Oh, phew, almost had a heart attack there—"

"—pff, sorry. But if Bill's still in the shack after the summer, then... then I'll keep staying with my aunt, or we could move into your old house and just visit the shack for work, or something... but I can't move into the shack permanently until he moves out."

"Okay. I accept that." Even if the rest of them had sorta gotten used to living with Bill, Soos thought not wanting to live with a former torturer/conqueror/dictator was a pretty reasonable boundary. "I dunno what we'll do long-term just yet, but—we'll decide on something before the wedding."

Melody let out a long, nervous sigh. "Okay," she said. "Okay. Thanks, Soos." She reached across the truck's center console.

Soos took her hand. "But, how do you think we should handle Bill until then?"

Melody stared out the window at the gray sky. The rain had dried up before dawn, but the sky was still hazy. "If we keep guarding him ourselves instead of getting law enforcement involved... personally? I wouldn't give him any kind of special treatment at all. He tried to end the world! He stuck the whole town in a throne! He can just keep sleeping on the floor and being miserable, and I'd be fine with it."

Soos winced. "I see."

Melody squeezed his hand. "But—the fact that you're kinder than that is one of the things I love about you. Even when the creep you're being kind to doesn't deserve it." She gave him a resigned smile. "Do whatever you feel is right."

He considered that. Then he nodded. "I will."

####

Bill kept Soos's Abuelita company while she cooked, and gossiped with her in Spanish better than Soos's about people Bill had never even met. Bill liked watching cartoons, sports where people got hurt, and weirdly intellectual movies Soos didn't get, and he heckled historical documentaries and the news. Bill was offended by white rice and had incredibly strong opinions about salsas for a guy who'd only started eating them a month ago. Bill hadn't taken his friendship bracelet off once since Mabel gave it to him. Bill might not have been a human; but he was a person.

It was high time they start treating him like one.

####

Soos came home late in the afternoon with his truck laden down with supplies. Stan's car was gone, and when Soos came in with an armload of wooden boards he didn't see anybody around except Abuelita, napping in the living room, and Dipper, laying on the living room floor watching TV. "Hey dude," Soos whispered. "Where's everybody else?"

Dipper whispered back, "Hey Soos. Stan and Ford are at McGucket's mansion." He didn't look up from the TV. He was watching a rerun of Ghost Harassers on mute. "Mabel's with Bill in the floor room. He's in a bad mood about something so they've been doing karaoke all day."

"Huh." Soos could faintly hear someone playing his electric piano. It sounded like it was on the organ setting. "I didn't know he plays piano."

"He's alright," Dipper said. "His singing's terrible, though."

Soos shuddered. He could imagine.

Well, at least it meant Bill was out of the way. Soos began his first of many trips upstairs.

####

"What's all this racket?" Stan trudged upstairs to inspect Soos's noises—and abruptly stopped at the top of the stairs as he almost ran into a wooden beam. "What the—?"

"Oh, hey Mr. Pines!" Soos hooked his hammer on his tool belt. He'd put up wall framing to section off the corner of the attic floor that included the window seat.

Stan circled around the framing, inspecting it in bafflement. "Soos, what the heck is this?"

"So, remember at the beginning of summer, when I said that me and Melody were thinking about putting in a gaming room-slash-guest room in the attic? And Ford said not to bother until Bill was gone because he wouldn't be here long enough for me to finish? Welp! Sounds like he's gonna be here long enough for me to finish now! So I thought, hey, might as well, right? No reason not to!" He shrugged. "By the way, do you think I should put the door in front of the stairs, or on the long side of the room opposite the window? If it's in front of the stairs, you can just walk right in the room when you come up, and we'd be able to put a big screen on the long wall; but when you're walking out of the room it'd be really easy to forget the stairs are there and fall, and uh, we already have enough of a problem with that—"

Stan finally got his dropped jaw working again. "But this is where the demon sleeps! Where are we supposed to put him now?!"

"Oh, it's fine! Bill can keep sleeping in here. I'll put up a curtain instead of a door for now. This way the room's ready for gaming once Bill's gone." Soos planted his hands on his hips and surveyed his handiwork with pride.

"Are you crazy? You're giving Bill his own room?! No way! He could do anything in private. We can't trust him with that—"

"Listen." Soos gave Stan a serious look. "Mr. Pines, I respect you, and I love you like the dad I never had except technically I do have a dad but he's off being a deadbeat in Florida or something so he doesn't count."

He pointed at the floor. "But this is my house now. My name might not be on the deed, but my butt is in the master bedroom! And nobody under my roof is living like—like—like some kind of starving hobo sleeping on a bench under a newspaper, you know what I'm talking about? The Mystery Shack is a happy place! Where people come to see dreams come true and have their imaginations expanded! And I won't see it turned into some sad one-man prison!"

Stan stared at Soos, speechless.

"So." Soos took a deep breath. "With all due respect—I'm building a gaming room, and it'll have walls, and Bill gets to sleep in it. Because he's a person! And we're gonna treat him like one!"

Stan slowly looked from Soos to the wall framing, to the boxes of supplies he'd bought for the room and pushed against a wall to wait—to the pathetic couch cushion bed still sitting on the floor in front of the window. "All right. That's—that's fine. I'll let Ford know."

Soos's shoulders relaxed. "Thanks, Mr. Pines."

Stan clapped a hand on Soos's shoulder; looked for a moment like he wanted to say something; then just shook his head and said instead, "Knock off the hammering before the kids go to bed, all right?"

"No problem! I've gotta set up some furniture and stuff in here anyway." He got back to work as Stan went downstairs.

####

Soos paused his work when he overheard Bill's voice: "Hey Stanford. Figured out the kitchen situation yet?"

Soos had to strain to hear Ford (jeez, Bill was loud) as he said, "We haven't had a chance yet. For now, we can at least leave one of the counter cabinets open."

"Huh." It didn't sound like an impressed huh. "And will this open cabinet have any of the foods you put in the cabinet to hide from me? Or just more of the junk I've already been scavenging."

Ford was silent long enough to provide the answer.

"Right."

"I went by the grocery store," Ford offered. "I got avocados."

"Uh huh."

"And several pepper varieties."

"Ooh." Bill sounded intrigued in spite of himself.

"And protein drinks. They're nutritious, at least," Ford said. "But—I know that's not adequate. Stan and I will have something permanent figured out by the end of the week."

"I guess it's fine as an emergency measure," Bill said, "but you know how the phrase goes! Give a triangle a protein drink, and it'll eat for a day. Teach a triangle to open the fridge, and it'll eat for the rest of its life. If you lift that curse..."

"We'll talk. But don't get your hopes up. Neither of us likes the thought of giving you the power to come in our bedroom and smother us in our sleep the next time we have an argument."

"Fine." Bill's voice had hardened again. "You've got to the end of the week. But don't forget! If I don't like your offer, I don't have to take it! You can't keep me in this rickety barn anymore."

"I haven't forgotten."

The conversation seemed to be over and Soos didn't hear anyone coming up the stairs. He got back to work.

He felt good. He was doing the right thing.

####

When Mabel came up to bed, she stared in confusion at the modified attic floor, squealed in excitement when she realized what she was looking at, surprised Soos with a hug, and gushed about how great it was; and then she let Soos know Dipper and Ford were out tonight investigating weird stuff and went on to bed herself.

The first notification Soos had that Bill had come upstairs was a flat, offended, "What."

"Oh, hey!" Soos ducked out of the opening he'd left for the doorway—which he'd ultimately decided to put straight across from the window, to let a little light back into the attic. (He'd have to add more lighting in the main attic now that the window was blocked off.) Bill was standing at the corner of the new room, surveying the work with an expression of deep suspicion.

Soos said, "I was just getting started on this gaming room Melody and me wanted to put in—it's okay though, you can keep using it, we'll just turn it into a gaming room, uhhh... lllater. Whenever, it's cool!"

Bill turned his suspicious look on Soos; but when Soos gestured for Bill to follow him into the room, he reluctantly followed.

"Yeah, I got up the framing," Soos said, "but I couldn't get to the drywall today, so I just stapled up some tarps to be walls for now. But, look!" He gestured grandly. "I brought up the old orange sofa and chaise thingy that used to be in Abuelita's room! They've been in storage for like a year. I bet we could sit, like, six people on it for game nights. It turns out the sofa's a daybed, so we can use it as an extra guest bed for visitors, we do not have enough beds for visitors in the shack, haha. And, check it—" Soos flipped up the lid on a chest he'd placed in front of the right end of the sofa like a footrest. "I put in one of those top-down chest fridges for gaming snacks! It uh, the top of it swings up, that makes it a lid instead of a door, right? Sooo I guess you can use it too, right? You can just, put whatever you want on the weekly grocery list, and we'll put it in here. Oh, and!" He pointed at the ancient TV console table he'd hauled up from the cellar, "I set up a hot plate here, too! So you can cook stuff in the attic! For—for normal legitimate gaming room purposes."

Bill's gaze followed where Soos pointed, from the ancient orange sofa to the fridge chest to the hot plate. He didn't say anything. His expression was completely unreadable.

Soos swallowed. "Oh, and, by the way, speaking of home improvements, I took out the doorknob on the main bathroom, and put in one of those, like, little slidy dealies like public bathroom stalls? Plus I gave the door those swinging hinges—like the kind on saloon doors in the movies, o-or, say, the door into the gift shop—"

Bill whipped around to face Soos.

Soos jumped. He laughed nervously and tried to remember what point he was making. "S-so, um... there's no latch now, so it doesn't latch, which means there's no way to accidentally get locked in—or out, of the bathroom, and... and I don't actually know how much of that you understood, due to the whole curse thing? Just forget everything I just said, I guess, the important thing is you can use that bathroom without asking someone else now! Cool, right?"

He had to turn away from Bill's intense gaze, pointing back at the gaming room's doorway. "Anyway since the room isn't finished yet and you're probably gonna use it for a while, I hung up a curtain instead of a door. And I added that cool zodiac spell blanket thing Mabel gave me inside the curtain! Since you said you liked it so much when you first got here. And like... having it in our room kinda creeps Melody out, I think it might be giving her nightmares? So I thought you might like it better. Anyway I've still gotta do some other stuff, like add power outlets in here, and air conditioning, and... a-and..." He petered out weakly.

Bill was giving Soos the most venomous look he'd ever seen. 

"Sure. Terrific." Bill crossed his arms, seething. "I've slept on the floor, I can cope with sleeping in the middle of a construction zone too. No big deal! I'll make do."

"Oh," Soos said. "Uh... if it bothers you, I could try to get the walls finished tomorrow? Shack's closed tomorrow too, so, I was already planning to keep—"

Teeth grit, Bill snarled, "Don't put yourself out on my behalf."

Soos froze. "Oookay! Uh... well, I'll be getting ready for bed if you need... yeah, no, you—you probably don't need anything. Bye." He ducked out into the attic, letting out a whoosh of a sigh as soon as the curtain swung shut behind him.

Bill had looked like he was two seconds from ripping out Soos's throat. Why? Had he liked sleeping on the floor? He'd never seemed like he had. Maybe he'd preferred the attic's open flooring? Maybe he hated extremely 70's orange upholstery? Was this a mistake...?

Bill watched through the tarp until Soos was down the stairs. Then he lunged over the sofa, hanging over the back by his waist, to reach the attic window seat. He groped for the corner of the seat cushion where he'd hidden Journal 4.

He sighed in relief when he felt the familiar rectangular block in the cushion. He pulled it free: there was Journal 4, along with his two stubby crayons. As well as two marker pens, black and red, with a sticky note wrapped around them that said, "Thought these might be useful, dude!"

Bill's hands trembled with fury.

####

Soos was brushing his teeth when someone pounded on the bathroom door, making him drop his brush. The door swung open a couple of inches; Soos heard Bill mutter a confused, "What?" before it swung shut again.

Soos opened the door. "Bill? What's..."

Bill's face was completely flushed. It was hauntingly reminiscent of the look he'd had last year right before trying to murder Soos and the kids in Stan's mind. His rage had shot past "apoplectic" and landed on "apocalyptic." Soos understood how Pompeii had felt when the rumbling began. He took a few steps back.

Bill stalked into the bathroom.

He slapped the red pen down on the counter.

And, avoiding eye contact, he muttered, "Fine-tip yellow highlighter would be better. If you've got it."

"Oh," Soos said. "Sure, I... I think I have some skinny highlighters in my office. Just... lemme finish brushing my teeth."

####

Bill leaned in the office doorway, arms crossed tight, waiting. As Soos rummaged through his desk supplies, back to the door, he got the uneasy feeling that maybe Bill had lured him here to stab him in the back or something. He seemed mad enough. And the office was narrow; if Bill came up right behind him, there'd be nowhere for Soos to dodge...

When he found a new highlighter and turned around, Bill was glowering inches behind him.

Soos jumped. "Dude! You freaked me out."

Bill didn't condescend to respond. He just snatched the highlighter out of Soos's hand and stormed from the room. A moment later, Soos could hear him stomping up the stairs (and stumbling on one step. Soos really needed to figure out how to make the stairs more safe). 

For the life of him, Soos didn't know how he'd offended Bill.

####

The contraband supplies Bill had hidden behind a loose board in the wall still appeared to be undisturbed. He could only hope Soos hadn't found them during his snooping. For tonight, he could hide Journal 4 there; tomorrow he'd have to find a new, more secure hiding spot that kept it close enough to where Bill slept.

He turned around the hanging zodiac blanket and curtain so Bill's watchful triangular face was guarding the new attic hallway rather than staring into the room.

He surveyed his atrocious new sofa. If he'd known he would be plagued with this thing in the future, he would have found a way to make Ford get rid of it thirty years ago. Would Ford have thrown it out if his blessed Muse had told him it looked hideous? Maybe, but that would've put a ding in Bill's benevolent image. He could've said the sofa would lead Ford to doom? No, too implausible. Ford had always wanted a nice set of leather furniture; maybe if Bill had claimed the cost of leather furniture was about to skyrocket, and if Ford ever wanted to build his dream sophisticated gentleman's den then he should buy as soon as possible—maybe sell his current sofa to recoup costs and free up space... Yeah, Ford would've eaten that up, he'd have been so grateful Bill was thoughtful enough to care about his silly little life dreams and look out for his financial future. He shoulda done that. Hindsight.

So. What did he have here? A daybed; personal fridge; mini-stove; walls (tarp); two pillows; throw blanket; two markers; a lamp (unplugged); a clock radio (unplugged); a low console table with two shelves, onto which Soos had emptied the contents of Bill's cardboard box of clothes; and an implicit promise to keep a pile of secrets.

How humiliating.

He considered sleeping on the bare floor in protest; but, his back still hurt. Once again, subject to the tyranny of an organic body. He sighed, pulled his bedsheet from the console table, and curled up on the sofa.

The moment he lay down, a scent soaked into the seat cushion made his heart leap into his throat. He was sure he could smell home. Familiar and comforting and right—and for a moment the evidence of his other six senses didn't matter: he had his power back, he was in his kingdom, and all was right with the world. It took a moment to figure out what about the scent had so strongly disoriented him: he was smelling the atmosphere of the Nightmare Realm.

And then took another moment to work out that it wasn't really the Nightmare Realm, but a very similar scent—sulfurous, organic, burning. Burnt hair.

The cushion still smelled like Ford.

Bill groaned in frustration, rolled off the sofa, and flopped to the floor.

After permitting himself a moment of rage at the injustices of the multiverse, Bill crawled up onto the chaise lounge on the left end of the sofa, avoiding the part of the sofa where Ford used to sleep.

The chaise was smaller than his floor cushion bed used to be; but he'd make do.

####

(I know we're all busy going insane over the website but i'd love a comment when y'all read this chapter lol)

[dcxdpdabbles]

Hello 👋 if requests are open do you think we can get another of The Summoned Demon? I've never seen a take on Danny being misunderstood and speaking a different language after a summoning and I'm really excited to see where you wanna take this. If not don't worry about it I have a vivid imagination hahaha

Take care of yourself man, this is also your mandatory water and food break ❤️

Danny runs for what feels like hours but is probably only a few minutes, attempting to find the exit of the caves. This would be easier if he could go ghost, but for some reason, his powers were disrupted when he tried to change into Phantom back in the cell.

He didn't know how, but the weird lights had messed with his core. It was almost like an invisible hook had attached itself to his navel. The thing yanked his power into the floor and walls, causing them to explode.

Thankfully, when the strange writing had vanished, a bit of his strength had returned, allowing him to tear through the stone bars. He couldn't go ghost, but at least some of his powers were accessible.

He had super strength, night vision (which would have been really helpful the day he was kidnapped!), and a few energy beams. It could be a better skill set, but if needs must. If only his Phantom stamina could transfer over.

Right now, he was using Fenton Stamina. There was a reason he was failing P.E. It showed how he was gasping for air, kneeling by one of the stone walls.

"Must...huff...find...exit....huff huff....escape!" Danny pants, attempting to crawl forward. "Must....check with a doctor about possible asthma...leg cramp! leg cramp!"

It wasn't going well.

Danny grips the meat of his calf, curling into a tight ball and silently screaming at it. The pain is annoyingly rippling across his whole body, causing his muscles to tense to the point he can only sit there and wait for it to go away.

All the while, he was mentally swearing up a storm.

After a few minutes, the muscles relax enough for him to feel some relief. Slowly unclenching his hands- afraid that if he got too quickly, the pain would return- Danny stretches out his leg. The ache is a distant echo as he slumps against the stone.

"I'm going to die in here," He whimpers. "I'm going to die from a kidnapping cult that thought it was a great idea to wait after my math test to take me."

While Danny wallows in misery, two glowing figures flout out of a nearby wall. A woman who looks to be wearing an outfit straight from the pilgrim's age and a man who may have once been a gentleman in the early ninety-thousands.

Danny's eyes widen at the blood staining the woman's head and dress. It's evident from the crack that runs along the right side of her skull. The man, meanwhile, looks more normal if it is not for the way one of his legs is twisted sickeningly.

"This one is young, " says the woman, shaking her head in pity. "It looks like he hurt his leg."

"I know how that feels," the man sighs, flouting until he is mere inches from Danny's face. "It doesn't seem he's been down here for long. Maybe there is hope someone will find him before the starvation hits."

"What do you mean starvation!?" Danny yelps. The two glowing people flinch.

The man gapes at Danny. "You can see us!?"

"Yeah? You're ghosts, right? I'm part ghost on my mother's side." Danny jokes, only seeing the woman cross herself before doing a slight hop and pointing at him with clear disgust.

"Witch!" She stretches, dragging out the syllables. He a bit impressed by how she puts her whole chest into that yell. Hell, he's even a little envious with how low she got her voice too.

"Not now, Mary," The man hisses at her. He reaches to touch Danny, but the boy avoids the contact, afraid of being overshadowed. That earns him a smile that seems oddly approving. "It's nice to meet you, lad. My name is Harold McConnell; I was an explorer attempting to map out Gotham's caves when I was separated from my crew. I broke my leg in the dark and starved to death. This is Mary, no last name. She and her family were moving from different American colonies when they passed over Gotham, and their carriage fell when the ground gave way. She died upon impact."

Dang, okay. Harold is oddly forward. Danny knows most ghosts are well aware of the specter's unwritten rules: Never bring up another death or share yours until a deep bond has been made.

A bit flustered Danny placed a hand on his chest, ensuring his fingers were spread so that they know he was a friendly ghost. He was not after their haunt or territory. "I'm Danny Fenton. Yesterday I was kidnapped by a cult from my classroom. They had me in warehouse then in a stone cell in a near by cave I escaped them but ended up gettng lost."

Marry lowered her hand, eyes wide. "A cult brought you down here?"

"Yeah, and I'm afraid they will find me," Danny mutters, looking over his shoulder. He can't see or hear anyone, but that does little to reassure him.

Harold's face tightens. "There are many monsters in this city."

"We can show you the way out," Mary offers, flying closer. Danny does his best not to stare at her gruesome features. It would be vulgar. "Does being half ghost- or a witch- make it possible for us to carry you?"

Danny blinks. "I think so, but I can walk-"

"Nonsense," Harold grunts, reaching out and lifting Danny from the floor. He throws him over his shoulder like he was picking up a flour sack. Danny squeaks. "Goodness, I forgot how it felt to hold something. I miss this."

Danny starts to protest, but Harold merely bounces him with a laugh, twisting around where Mary is flouting. "Onward!"

Mary smiles, floating alongside them. "We can go through the west caves to where my skeleton is. There is an opening that should lead to the center of Gotham's suburbs."

"Good idea, Mary," Harold compliments, flying right behind her at a much faster speed than Danny's running. "Listen, lad, we can't leave the blasted caves, but we can stare through openings. The suburbs are the safest place for you to pop out of."

Considering that his only other option is a mad group of cultists, a kiddy pool of blood, or a full ghost status from being lost in the caves, Danny doesn't mind.

He is saddened that they are anchor ghosts, though he suspected as much from the way neither had noticed his Infinite Realms mannerism. It means they are doomed to only wander the areas of their death, forever trapped in their sudden and abrupt demise.

"Thank you for helping me," He says, staring down at his hands. He can see the ground past him back, aware of the way Harold's muscular arms wrap around him without any warmth but not lacking in kindness. "I wish I could take you with me."

"That's a sweet thought, little one witch, but it's alright." Mary says, "We've come to terms with our fate. We even found love."

Danny peaks at her, noticing how adoring she is regarding the ghost, and she can't help but smile. "You two are together?"

"Aye. Mary comforted me in my final hours." Harold responds in a voice as fond and adoring as Mary's: "She was my reward for how I perished."

How romantic.

"I hope I find love like yours," Danny tells them just as they round a few corners and come to a deep drop. The remains of a carriage and five skeletons rest at the very bottom, making him heartache for the fact she had likely been alone with their bodies for centuries.

Mentally, he makes a pack to come back for the bodies and give them a proper burial—once he has his powers, of course.

"I pray that you do," Mary says, keeping her gaze away from the pit. She points upwards to a whole in the cave's ceiling, a few streaks of light peaking through. "Up there, my love."

Harold obediently flies upwards, twisting Danny so the boy's back is to his chest and his hands are supporting him on his bum. Danny's face turns red. "Sorry, lad, but something is covering the exit. I can not touch it, but you should be able to. Kick it until it breaks. It should only be a few layers of grass."

Danny coughs. "I'll try my best."

He kicks upwards, pressing himself into Harold so he has more leverage for throwing his legs upwards. They make contact with a heavy thump, his super strength giving him an edge.

"Donkey kicks, lad!" Harold shouts, "Both legs, nice and even."

He pulls his legs back again, putting more strength into his second kick. It shakes the ground above him as bits of dirt fall through, and the light streaks grow. Danny's legs go through once, twice, and on the third kick.

Danny cheers as the ground above him collapses, falling into the pit below. It's a reasonable-sized hole, just big enough that he will be able to squeeze through, but thankfully, the rest of the ceiling seems sturdy enough that he won't accidentally cause a sinkhole.

"Good job!" Mary cheers, clapping her hands. Harold lets out a deep and joyish laugh, helping Danny straight up by holding his waist and lifting him up through the hole.

He struggles to keep Danny upright when Mary swoops in, lacing her fingers and supporting Danny's feet. Her added assistance allows the ghosts to push him upwards, away from the darkness and into the light.

Danny rises from the ground with a laugh so cheerful he doesn't think he's ever been this happy to see sunlight, even when it blinds him.

It takes a couple moments to adjust his eyesight, stepping out of the ghosts' hold onto solid ground, but he can smell the sweet grass below his feet. He hears the tender psss of a meat on a girl. The alluring aroma of hotdogs-

Wait a minute.

Danny's eyes finally come into focus, and he stares into the faces of a surprise family just about to sit down for a BBQ. His eyes find the face of a very familiar teenage boy looking increasingly horrified by the second.

"Hey, you're the cult pants guy!" Danny shouts at him, twisting around to look down at Harold and Mary. "One of the cult sacrifices is here! I think he escaped, too!"

"Solitary!" Harold yells back, "You have more strength in numbers!"

"I don't know how he can help me since last time I couldn't understand his language- oh! Er, hello?" Danny looks down to where the teenager is once again, clinging to his feet, babbling in his fast-paced language. He presses his face against Danny's leg, rubbing himself there, and the Halfa is quick to try to push him away. "Dude! Dude! Personal space!"

"My word!" Mary calls up, scandalized. "Danny, will you force this young one into being your bride?"

"What!? No! Wait—" Danny looks back at the scene where Mary is once again making that same disgusted face while Harold is offering him a thumbs up and an eyebrow wiggle. "You can understand him!?"

"Yes, can you not?" Harold responds.

"Not even a single word. Would you mind translating for me?"

"I can let you know what he is saying, but I'm afraid the living won't be able to hear us." Marry cautions, sounding strangely apologetic and relieved in the same tone. "He's attempting to bargain for his family's lives in exchange for being your bride."

"Why would he assume I even want their lives or him!?" Danny yelps, finally untangling himself from the teenager and putting in some much-needed details. He makes a x with his arms, hissing when the other guy makes a move to follow him.

"Hard to say. He's not making a lot of sense- it's just pleas for a bargain.," Harold shouts, speaking louder now that Danny has moved away from the hole's edge. "It is best to put some distance between you and him."

"But what about you?"

"Don't worry about us; we've been here long enough. Escape while you can and be safe!" Mary yells over the cries of the rest of the family, who seem to have finally snapped out of their daze.

Danny looked at the two adults, the one pre-teen and a crying five-year-old, and decided he did not want to stick around for more screaming in a language he could not understand. "Thank you for everything you've done for me, Harold, Mary!"

"You're welcome!"

"It was a pleasure lad!"

Quick as a whip, Danny twists on his heel, racing for the fence and leaping over it. He's suddenly grateful for all the times he would sneak into Tucker's house as he clears over the wood in one smooth tug up and over, hitting the ground running.

He ignores the cries of the other humans behind him as he sprints down the surprisingly lovely suburban street.

___________________________________________________________

Jack Roux's hands shake as the demon disappears from view. He thought Batman had a handle on the cult and was free. But obviously, that wasn't the case.

When the ground first started to thump, he thought their garden had a mole or something, only to have his blood turn to ice when the ground gave way. Rising from the ground was the very demon that he had seen only two days ago.

His mother quickly ran to his side, wrapping Jack in her arms, sobbing uncontrollably. His dad stood in front of him, likely wanting to be a shield between Jack and the demon. His little siblings crowed around crying in fright.

It had come back for him, even though he had assumed it was kind and likely was going to go after the others.

If I had been alone, Jack thinks, thankfully his father's quick thinking and fast-paced prayers had scared the thing away in time, I would have been taken again.

It's a bone-chilling thought.

[lazycats-stuff]

What about Batfam x male reader where the reader was actually the first child Bruce adopted and he was the practice child. He hated growing io because Bruce had really no idea what to do and then the other kids came along and now Bruce kinda understood what to do. He hates family time because he never felt like family, he was just some doll the others could practice on so later they wouldn't make mistakes. And i imagine at some point they snap. I feel like what if Damian brought over Jon for dinner and Jon was like "oh I thought Dick's the oldest, you never told me about (reader)" and reader just slams down their fist and goes to their room. At this point the rest of the family try to comfort them but the reader only screams about how they never were a son or bother, they were only a practice doll for them to use and then throw away

This has angst written all over it... Ah. Angst train it seems... Also, I think I changed the end a bit, but that's fine...

Summary: (Y/N) was nothing but a test child for Bruce. He finally lets them have it

Warnings: angst, resentment, author sucks at angst, but hey, I tried, yelling, mentions of anxiety, the fam is trying, (Y/N) is mad beyond belief, implications of child neglect... If you can call it child neglect.

(Y/N) (L/N) was the oldest member of the Wayne family and the first child that Bruce had adopted. (Y/N) didn't have a good life at all before he met Bruce. (Y/N) could also argue that Bruce didn't treat him well as well, since being emotionally unavailable is not a good trait to have when you have children.

As the years went by, he hated growing up in the manor and with Bruce. He had food, a roof over his head and some sort of education. But that wasn't enough. The feeling of resentment that (Y/N) had has only grown as the years went by.

The feeling of being a test to Bruce, to see what he need to improve made his blood boil. He was a test pancake for Bruce and some sort of feedback to Bruce. It made (Y/N) mad beyond. Bruce could have gotten his shit straight when he started to have him as his legal child.

(Y/N) wished that he could forget everything about Bruce. About the family too. Even before Dick came, resentment building up in him nearly exploded. Looking back, he should have exploded on Bruce and Dick... Maybe even punch them. Maybe he should have done it.

When Dick came, (Y/N) saw signs that Bruce was improving, but he didn't show that to (Y/N). Years went by and Damian came. To say that Damian pretended that (Y/N) didn't exist is an understatement. (Y/N) tried to get closer to Damian, but Damian always pushed him away. (Y/N) took the signs and gave up, sadness and anger boiling inside of him. But he did observe Damian and Dick. In matter of a few days, they were close.

Dick did it without even trying.

So, (Y/N) has decided to alienate himself from the family, at least until he gets enough money to leave. Thankfully, the resentment towards Bruce and the rest of the family made him even put everything he had in school, even though no one cared about it. He had straight As and he was on his way to go to college that was far away from here. He knows that he can do it.

Even as Tim and Jason came, (Y/N) tried to be close to them, but none of them cared. None. (Y/N)'s solace became his own room and would avoid the family at all costs until it was time to eat where he had to step out. That only solidified the fact that he was going to leave as soon as possible.

Either way, he just had to alienate himself and move out. Then, everyone in the house would be happy.

However, everything would turn on its head when Damian would bring his boyfriend Jon over to meet the family and by default (Y/N). If only (Y/N) knew what would happen.

Dinner rolled around and came down to eat. He didn't expect to see Jon, but was nice to introduce himself to Jon, trying to be nice and just get this stupid dinner over with. He put some food on his plate and just ate in silence while everyone else talked.

He listened to bits and pieces and just stayed silent. He finished his plate quickly and pushed it away and sipped at his water, just being polite and getting ready to leave back at his room.

" Damian, you didn't tell me anything about (Y/N)... I thought that Dick was oldest of the brothers. " Jon said and (Y/N) froze.

Damian didn't tell Jon about him...

(Y/N)'s anger boiled over and he slammed his fist into the table before standing up quickly, knocking the chair over. Everyone got startled at the actions and watched in silence as (Y/N) left the dining room.

After a few seconds they all jumped into action, trying to stop (Y/N) to comfort him. (Y/N) slammed the door of his room shut, locking to make sure no one could enter, before he broke down on his bed. He hugged his pillow and sobbed into it.

It shouldn't hurt like this. He should have been stronger than this. Not cry over them.

" (Y/N), please open the door. " Bruce said through the door.

" Please, we just want to talk. " Dick added and (Y/N) snapped at that, anger boiling over once again.

" Talk?! TALK?! Stop acting like you care! " (Y/N) yelled at the top of his lungs.

" We do care. " Jason started.

" You don't give a single flying damn about me! I was never a son or a brother to anyone! I was only a test toy to Bruce so he could see what he could fucking improve! I was never a fucking brother either! Damian fucking proved it! " (Y/N) yelled at the top of his lungs, tears streaming down his face.

Everyone stayed silent and (Y/N) sobbed his heart out. Damian swallowed hardly, realizing what he did and how that hurt (Y/N) deeply. Maybe he shouldn't have...

Everyone glanced at each other. They stayed silent as they listened to (Y/N)'s sobs. Just how much pain did they brought up onto him?

" (Y/N), look- " Bruce started and (Y/N) screamed again.

" Don't you dare care right now! I'm moving out in a few days anyway and I don't need your pity or apology! " (Y/N) yelled, trying to wipe the never ending stream of tears.

" Moving out?! " Bruce yelled, eyes wide in shock. He know he has no right to tell (Y/N) what to do, but something flared up in Bruce. " No, you're not moving out! You are going to stay put because we have to solve this problem! "

" Are you shitting me Bruce?! Work things out?! "

" I'm not shitting you! I have to make things right with you! You are my son too! " Bruce yelled through the door.

" I don't give a single damn about any of you! "

Bruce took a deep breath, trying not to explode. He knows he has no right to be angry, but (Y/N) was still his son. " (Y/N), I am your dad and we will solve this problem. "

" We won't solves shit Bruce! "

" (Y/N), please, " Tim started, but (Y/N) cut him off. " Shut up Tim! "

Tim bit the inside of his cheek and stepped back.

" (Y/N), " Jason started, " You need to calm down, you'll give yourself a heart attack. "

(Y/N) wanted to scream even more, but he felt like he was going to die from this situation.

" Shut up, all of you! "

Now Dick started. " (Y/N), we may have been bad brothers- "

" May have?! You were- No, you are the worst brothers! " (Y/N) yelled and clenched his fists as he started facing around the room.

Dick sighed and stepped back. At the moment, everyone knew that (Y/N) talking to them without yelling at them and more importantly, he needed to calm down first.

But with how much anger and resentment there is, it is going to take a while.

" Lets leave (Y/N) alone for a while. He needs to be alone for now. " Bruce said and gently moved everyone away from (Y/N)'s doors, who was inside, trying to breathe more normally. He felt like he was going to jump out of his skin in the next few moments. He calmed down after a while, but he was still anxious beyond belief.

Unfortunately, the threat of moving out is just a threat and not a promise. (Y/N) sighed as he sat down on his bed. It was a stupid move to say that while he didn't have everything secure yet. Stupid.

(Y/N) went to the bathroom and washed his face and drank some water, to soothe his soon to be sore throat. It won't be nice to talk in a few hours.

Either way, it's better than leaving this room in order to face his siblings and dad. No, they are just roommates here, until (Y/N) can move out and just finally cut them out of his life.

[akazzzaa]

Demons getting hungry during sex

DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT! MDNI

Summary - you and the demons are having sex, but they feel hungry. Being so close to you and being inside a human it testing the waters. Muzan, kokushibo, douma

Genre- Smut// Angst// Non -con // slight necrophilia// Blood// Gore// Eating human flesh// loss of limbs

Warnings- DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT!

Muzan

Muzan controls his hunger by consuming human blood and flesh regularly. This helps him maintain his strength and suppress the intense craving for human flesh that demons typically experience. As he has lived for over 1,000 years, his hunger is well controlled and he can hide his appetite very well. But when he’s busy, he’ll forget to eat sometimes. Truth is, he hates needing to eat, avoiding the sun and demon slayers, or just anything that threatens his existence and makes him seem ‘human’ or ‘weak’ makes him angry. If he doesn’t eat, he’ll become weak. That’s the last thing he needs to be.

He wasn’t thinking about food. He wasn’t hungry at all. But as he kept kissing you, he felt his hunger come. He tried to push it back and it worked well until he entered you.

His hips snap and his dick hits your cervix, making you yelp in pain, you look up to him pissed off and then that was quickly replaced with fear.

Muzan looked gone. His skin got paler somehow, his eyes were crazy. Was he sweating?

Muzan looked down on you. Really looked down on you. In that moment all he saw was a livestock. Not a partner. Not someone he saw value, trust and respect in. Not his love. His body was pulsating with a strange mix of warmth and tension. The hunger clawed at him, a reminder of the insatiable cravings that defined his existence.

You look up to him, your lover, the man who saved you and protected you was not there. That was a demon, you realised in that moment that you were looking death in the eye.

Muzan struggled to suppress the primal desire within. He leaned in to kiss you neck, and took a bite.

Blood sprayed everywhere and you trash and scream under him, he caged you and he suddenly weigh twice his size. He thrusted in you, feeling your wall convulse around him he groaned into your neck as you started fading in and out, pledging for him to stop. He didn’t want you to die, he just had a moment of weakness and needed some food. You understand right? Maybe not cause you’re human. Maybe he’ll make you understand.

Just as your heart was slowing down and as your breathing was stopping, he stuck a finger into your throat, “ may we be together for eternity”

Your neck heals slowly, you’re a weak demon for now. Your eyes open up and you lunge at him.

Kokushibo

Kokushibo controls his hunger by practicing restraint and discipline. He deals whith hunger a lot cause he’s fussy with his food. He only likes to eat strong humans. Weak humans will make you weak. You are what you eat. And he respects Akaza for this reason. Akaza only eats stronger men. No women. But kokushibo is fine with eating women, as long as they are worth it. He’ll kill anyone or anything with no regret. But will only eat the best protein he can get. You notice kokushibo meditating a lot, and they are all for different reasons.

When he enters you in this state, he’s pretty calm about it normally.

You notice his breath faltered. All his eyes rolled back. His hand clench. That’s never happened before. You were sat ontop of him, so you had control over this.

Right?

As soon as you tried to pull yourself away he flipped you over and pushed your head into the dirt, his hand squeezed your hips and pulled them up to meet him again. Kokushibo, leaned close to you to suck on your earlobe and bites it off. He swallowed without thinking.

As soon as you realised, you screamed and he got off you.

You say there with both hands covering where your ear was. “W-what have you done to me!?”

He has disfigured you now and there is no way you would forgive him.

Douma

It started with him licking at your skin, and slowly making his way down till he reached your heat. The smell of your sex made him drool and he looked up to you while his hands where caressing your skin. You where so caught up in the feeling of being touched and worshiped that you didn't even feel his teeth nibble on you. He does this a lot anyway so its not much of a concern to you.

Douma was high. He was so busy with dealing with his followers that he hasn't really been looking after himself. To be licking and sucking the juices out directly from an organ had him shaking with hunger. As delicious as your pussy is, its not enough. He moves his mouth to your inner thigh while he fingers you.

As soon as he takes a bite of your thigh his fingers grew sharper and cut you on the inside making you kick his face, the force pushing him back. Douma was sat on his knees, his errection jumping in his pants as he looks right through you, blood covering his mouth. '' What the- Have you lost your mind!?'' Your thighs squeeze together from the pain of having your inside stabbed. Douma looks at you with a sad look, ''I'm hungry, I'm sure you understand right? You wont let me starve?''

Only then did you feel the weight of his words when he crawled to you, His fangs covered in your blood. You knew he was a demon but this? He promised you would be safe.

[inkonparchment]

there's a man in the woods | Leon Kennedy

Leon Kennedy x f!Reader

summary: everything changes when you find a man beaten, bruised and bleeding half to death in the woods.

word count: 4.1k

warnings: horror imagery. unsettling themes. mentions/description of blood, organs, guns. canon-typical violence. injuries. slow burn. eventual romance. hurt/comfort. plot armour goes crazy. language.

a/n: lets get intooo ittttt!! happy reading my dears.

series masterlist

Chapter 4

The nightmares don’t come now, less due to a secure state of mind and more due to a lack of sleep. Sleep avoids you or rather you avoid it, instead spending your nights in lucid intervals, deadbolts secure on your door, rifle next to your bed with your back firm against the headboard. Luna keeps you calm, her presence dissuading you from taking laps around the room, wringing your hands in worry as your brain comes up with a million strategies to leap out of the window in your room, should your guest try something.

Leon. His voice echoes in your brain, sending shivers down your back. You test it in the privacy of your room, the syllables rolling out on your tongue, whispered in the dead of the night, the feel of it foreign when it escapes your lips. You don’t use it for him, relying on the noise of your boots and the clearing of your throat whenever you venture into the room he occupies, a tray gripped in your hands laden with food.

He doesn’t talk much, you notice. Eyes glassy and staring at a spot on the ceiling whenever you find him awake. He doesn’t acknowledge when you enter and set his food on the side table. You imagine he dreads your presence, struggling to eat whatever you offer him, maybe wondering if you’re slowly poisoning him. Maybe you are; you just don’t know it yet.

But he always says thank you, muttering it softly under his breath, eyes still stuck on the ceiling when you come back to retrieve the empty dishes, licked clean down to their bone. It always catches you off guard, feet staggering against the matted rug, the pounding of your heart intensifying. It almost sounds genuine.

The sleeplessness adds to your growing anxiety, throwing kindling into the flames of your unease. Sweaty palms accompany you when you stand in the kitchen, the unmistakable shake present upon filling up Luna’s food bowl. The sunlight filtering in through the windows, intensifies the pounding in your headache, the shrill sound growing louder in your ears. So you firmly keep them pulled close, plunging the entire cabin in a shroud of darkness.

And then you sit, back in the same spot you sat vigil over him, rifle in your hands and Luna by your side. You barely move an inch, watching him intently and it seems he barely moves either, staring up for an indefinite number time before he succumbs to deep slumber, taking notice of the fall of his chest. You barely blink, afraid that he will disappear if you do or worse appear suddenly in front of you as though materializing out of thin air, leaving you with no time to react.

Sweat dribbles down your forehead, swatting away the droplets with the back of your hands. Suddenly you find yourself thinking about his stitches, his wounds and his leg. You chew the inside of your cheeks. He can’t- shouldn’t be just lying idle; he needs to move around. You’re not sure if he’ll be too keen on your advice, your voice disappearing in presence. But you feel the need to, you didn’t want to have to end up having your efforts be wasted. It would have been easier to leave him in the woods but you had fought against every instinct in your body to tend to him. You weren’t about to stop just because he was no better than a living corpse in your cabin.

And you tell him as such when you come to take away the dishes for his dinner.

You linger, bolting your feet to the floor after he whispers his thanks. You bite the inside of your cheeks, fighting the urge to leave.

You clear your throat. “You need to move around – walk or something.”

Your words echo in the room, bouncing off the walls as his face remains unchanged. You continue.

“And you should clean yourself up too. There’s uh that door behind me is a bathroom. At least clean yourself with a towel. Lying in that blood and grime can’t be-”

“No spare clothes,” He interrupts you bluntly, looking anywhere but at you.

You bite your lip, grazing the skin harshly. The ringing in your eyes grows more loud, eyelids dragging down in exhaustion, your brain a muddle as you try and think of a solution. Minutes tick by in silence. And you remember, remember how there was a stack of clothing greeting you in the wardrobe upstairs when you had first arrived. It didn’t look like it was for you; t-shirts, flannels and jeans obviously too big for your size.

It should have raised questions in your head. Whose were they? Had someone else occupied this cabin before you? If so, where were they now? Maybe you should have asked him, and maybe you would have if exhaustion hadn’t seeped into your very fiber, if your cheeks hadn’t hollowed out from starvation, if the sensation of the sun on your skin hadn’t felt heavy, if it didn’t feel foreign to breathe in air that settled in comfortably in your lungs, looking at the soft sheets of the upstairs bed with awe.

You give your head a little shake, pulling yourself out of your memories. You didn’t throw out those clothes, folding them neatly into the bottom most drawer, barely ever been touched again. “I’ll bring some down for you.”

Silence again. Except for the little voice behind your brain, urging you to speak again like a nagging mother.

Your grip tightens on the tray, “You still need to move around.”

“It hurts.” His voice is blunt again. But the curtness in his tone cuts through you.

“Doesn’t matter. If you want to heal quicker, then you need to.”

He finally turns his head, eyes falling on your standing form. The suddenness of his motion makes your stomach lurch in surprise. His matted hair is still stuck to his forehead, the gleam in his eyes snuffed out but returning at a leisurely pace. This is the first time you notice his features twisted in emotion. Confusion, you would have to guess. The downturn of his lips, the furrow in his eyebrows and deepened lines appearing on his forehead. You feel heavy under his gaze, turmoil swimming in his eyes, feeling the flood of it sweep you away. It is unyielding, freezing and unnerving.

You avert your eyes, taking a few steps back. “I’ll bring them to you.”

The tray clatters loudly on the counter, nausea washing up your skin. You close your eyes and take deep breaths hoping to stop the spinning, vision watering when you open them again. You swipe the sweat off once more and walk up the stairs, palm grazing the cool wood of the railing. You tug at the bottom drawer of your dresser unveiling untouched clothes. You were right finding t-shirts, flannels and jeans neatly tucked away. Scooping them all in your arms, you stare at the empty compartment. It looks hollow, dust specking the sides adding to the lifelessness of it, purposeless all of a sudden. You kick it shut with a loud noise.

Leon hasn’t moved an inch from how you left him, Luna attentive at the threshold. You give her head a comforting pat and put the clothes down on the only empty chair of the room. A firm pat on top of the pile too. You wonder if you should tell him again but you halt, restraining yourself. He must notice you come and go, watchful from the corner of his eyes, aware of his surroundings despite evidence against the notion.

So you turn around, make to leave but are stopped when you faintly hear his thanks again. You look at him over your shoulder and he’s already watching you. The storm in his eyes has quelled leaving behind thick clouds of turmoil. But you see the rays of genuine gratitude peek through it. And it scares you to be looked at like that, no matter how minimal the gentleness in his gaze is. Feels odd, misplaced and undeserving. You pull your lips in a thin line and almost scamper away, back to your post like a loyal watch guard.

You don’t remember falling asleep, barely even registering the dimming light outside of your curtains as the sun sets. Time seems to pass by you these past days, slipping through the cracks of your fingers like fine sand. Sleep, however, is a generous term for how you spend the night. Once again teetering on the edge of unconsciousness, every creek and crackle echoing in the night jumps you awake.  

Finally deciding you’ve had enough, you stretch in your seat and begin moving around on autopilot. You clear away the dishes, washing them under the tepid water of your sink, scrubbing them harder than you need to. You glance through the window above the sink, watching as the horizons began to lighten. The birds start to chirp, their sweet melodies filling the air.

You watch as a canary bird flutters to come stand on your porch railing, occupying the same spot as the raven had. It’s bright yellow coat feels alien against the dullness of the woods in the background. It practically dances as it hops from one end to the other, fluffing its feathers before it puts on a show for you. Its hypnotizing almost, its lullabies making you forget the pinching sensation just behind your eyes, the warmth of the running water easing the stiffness in your shoulders.

You wonder where it’s come from, not recalling having seen many canary birds in the time you have lived here. Maybe this one strayed off from its flock, earning itself the misfortune of ending up at your doorstep. You frown, hoping its bright coat doesn’t attract the big birds, waiting hidden away in the leaves to pounce at any moment. You wonder if you should bring it in, hiding it away from the predators. The canary bird stretches out its wings and within the blink of an eye it has disappeared, flying into the open sky until it is a dot in the distance.

The hairs on the back of your neck feel electrified, standing on edge. You need to get out, go for a walk, smell the grass and dirt again. The air inside suddenly feels too suffocating. You wipe the clean dishes, quickly put together food for Leon and leave the tray next to his bed, not sparing his sleeping form a fleeting glance. You pull on your jacket, shoulder the rifle and almost slam out of the front door, jogging down the steps with Luna hot on your heels.

It’s like the world is anew, the softness of the wet ground a welcome sensation as your footsteps carve out a path in the grass of the morning dew. The cool air wraps you in its embrace, greeting like an old friend. You stand on the edge of the woods, the trees towering over you in their greatness, their expanse stretching out for miles.

There is a certain calm today, very distinct from the day you had found Leon. The walk feels cathartic, the air lighter and devoid of hostility. The small branches crackle and pop under the sole of your boots, pushing away all thoughts occupying your mind as you delve deeper. Luna seems to be at ease as well, a light wag in her tail as she excitedly chases away the squirrels and rabbits before bouncing back to your side.

Your skin no longer drips from perspiration as you stray from your usual path. Curiosity seems to appear out of nowhere, guiding you with a gentle hand as you find yourself retracing your steps. If the man won’t tell you anything then maybe you can find something at the scene that will answer some immediate questions.

When you reach the spot, you almost do a double take. If you hadn’t found him then there would nothing to indicate otherwise that he had been there at all. It’s devoid of any signs of his presence, shuddering when you remember how he had been all consuming. It’s all washed away now, you guess, new grass sprouting at the base of the roots from where they emerge out from the ground. You circle around the tree, fingers tracing the bark, eyes scanning everywhere for a clue but coming up empty.

You walk out in circles, trying to gauge a radius of your self-imposed investigation, Luna watching you with curiosity. Nothing. You try to take note of any recent footprints, any recently broken branches or disturbed shrubbery but there is nothing. No search parties, you conclude, the simmering in your stomach easing away. You pinch the bridge of your nose, leaning heavily against one tree, snapping away few leaves from a low branch with your spare hand.

It’s almost tempting to escape to the spring nearby, desperate to hear the gurgling of the water and feel the gentle flow of the water under your palms. You barely remember the sweet taste of the water, reminiscing the fresh pile of strawberries you would eat sitting near it. The loud gushing noise draining out everything and the spray of water on your face a welcome respite.

You shake your head. Sometime later, you bite your lip, maybe when he’s gone. You start the walk back, the muscles in your legs thankful for the trip, waking up from their stiffness. You feel yourself zoning out, feet finding their own path back when suddenly your feet get caught against a sturdy branch, almost sending you face first to the ground.

The string of curse words that leave your mouth would put anyone to shame if they heard you. You look back in anger, finding the culprit lying peacefully on the muddy floor. It seems like it broke off from a tree during the storm. You go back to it, leaning and wrapping your hand around it’s girth. It’s steady under your grip, no creaking or groaning as you set one side of it on the ground. It comes up to your waist and you lean your full weight against it, testing its strength. It doesn’t give away, holding you up firmly. You hum to yourself, contemplating bringing it back with you, whittling it down with your knife, freeing it of any splinters. It would make a decent walking stick.

That is all the justification you need to bring it back with you, hitting the ground with every alternate step. You spot the cabin from a distance, sighing and deciding to look away in the direction of the coop. You spot a few heads bobbing about in the small open space you have left for your chickens. You tug on the haphazardly fixed metal fencing, satisfied that it doesn’t give away, reasoning that it doesn’t need an immediate fix. So you leave it, rounding to the little storage unit that’s a few steps away.

Cobwebs and mouldy air greets you when you open the door, flicking away the tangled webs from your face, shuddering in disgust. You reach for the tool box, settling for a hunting knife. You unsheathe it, glaring at your reflection in the blade. You hate who looks back, exhaustion even more apparent in your face. You look no better than a walking corpse. You sheathe it again and close the door firmly behind you.

You kick out the old tree stump, nudging it closer to the chicken coop before setting down on it, rifle now next to your feet. Luna takes her place beside you. And you begin to whittle, peeling back the layers of darkened exposed wood to reveal the pale, untouched surface underneath. You don’t know what you’re doing, letting instinct guide you. You hope taking off the top most layer and smoothing down the surface would be enough.

The sun begins to ascend while you work, shining down upon you as it chases away the cold bite of the morning air. You take your jacket off after a while, arms exposed to warmth, working quietly against the wood. You run your hands up and down the branch, checking for splinters before trying to smooth down the area. And you get lost into it, the repetition of the movements burning a slow ache in your arms but you welcome it. Scrape, smooth, scrape, smooth. You don’t even notice time passing.

By the time you finish, the sun in high up, glaring down in its whole glory. You bring up the makeshift walking stick to your eye level, inspecting for any imperfections. You put it on the ground and use it to stand up, taking a lap around with it to ensure its sturdy enough. Satisfied with your work, you grab your belongings from the ground and make your way back inside. After letting Luna in, you shut the door, silence falling over you like an uncomfortable weight save for Luna’s paws on the floor and the rustling of your jacket when you hang it up.

Clutching the staff firm in your grip, you cross the living room towards the open door of the guest room, leaving the rifle outside. The tray you had set with food and water is now empty, dishes piled up neatly on top of each other. The stack of clothes remains untouched, a low sigh escaping from your lips. You’ll encourage him again when he wakes up. Setting the stick next to the bed, you snatch up the tray and walk out.

Feeling sticky from working under the sun, you crave the cool pelting of water droplets against your skin. You leave the tray in the same spot as last night and move upstairs to your room. Deadbolts go back in their place, the rifle finding its home next to the door as you peel off your clothes and make a beeline for the shower. You twist the knob and feel your shoulders relax when the gush of water rains down your body, washing away the day from you. You scrub in soap against your skin, this time more gentle, pointedly still not looking at your reflection. Pointless when you know what to expect.

Soap suds washed away, you step out, quickly clothing your exposed skin. And you sit on the foot of your bed, the sheets soft under your touch, not caring about the water dripping on them. The sunlight pouring in through the window slowly fades away, dimming until there is nothing, falling backwards onto the mattress, body forcing you to rest.

No nightmares grace you again, taking pity on your exhausted form, vowing to return later. But the whispers of your name begins to grow louder in your ears, closing in on you until it feels like someone has pressed their lips against the shell of your ear.

You jolt awake, scrambling to your feet, hand swatting against the ear. Blood pumps furiously through your veins as you finally come to. The sun is now long gone, the sliver of moon dancing in the sky outside. Your throat feels dry, hand wiping the drool escaping from your lips.

You’re not sure how long you were passed out for, hands a little weak for wear when you undo the lock and head downstairs. Luna is happy to see you, wagging her tail in greeting as you walk into the kitchen and down a whole glass of water. The last few droplets dribble out from the corner of your lips when you notice the soft hue coming from the guest room.

You knead the skin on your forehead, eyeing the spot where you keep the first aid kit. You needed to check his wounds, change his dressings. Snatching your kit, you cautiously begin to walk towards the room.

You freeze in the threshold. Leon is sitting up on his bed, propped up by the pillows behind his back and staring fixatedly out of the window. The pile of clothes from the chair has disappeared, a new grey coloured material stretched across his chest. His face is without any grime now, hair falling smoothly across his face instead of the previously matted form on his forehead. There’s more colour in his cheeks, hands neatly folded over the blanket that’s laid out over his legs.

He notices you standing there soon enough, head turning and eyes meeting yours in silence. It feels like someone’s plunged an ice stake through your chest, the sudden intensity in his gaze catching you off guard. For a brief moment, you’re unsure of what to say or do, your mind reeling at the sight of him looking almost human again.

You avert your gaze to the kit in your hands, grateful for its presence. You hold it up awkwardly for him to see, voice coming out steady than you expected, “Need to check your wounds.”

His eyes flicker to the kit in your hand, replying with a mundane “Okay” but you’re not sure if there’s a difference in his tone this time when he speaks to you, almost seemingly devoid of tension and apprehension.

You swallow harshly, inching closer to him, Luna softly padding in behind you and building your resolve to approach him. It’s strange to see him like this – clad in clean clothes and aware of his surroundings, a very different picture from the broken man you had dragged into your cabin that fateful night.

Leon stays still as you approach, eyes unwavering from your form as you settle the kit down on the bed and drag the chair to his bedside, careful not to knock down the makeshift walking cane. You can feel his eyes burn a hole through your hands as you set out your equipment before turning to him.

“I’m going to need you to lift your shirt up,” You instruct, the professional tone bleeding into your voice.

Curiosity, you think, is in his eyes when he wordlessly tosses away the blanket and grabs the edge of his shirt, tugging it up to his chest. Your eyes remain fixated on his abdomen, careful not to stray and focus only on his bandaged wounds. You carefully peel away the old bandages, the smell of soap rife in your nose and begin to work.

It’s quiet for a while, Luna on guard duty, you working tenaciously on his wound and Leon watching your careful ministrations. It’s after you shift to his second injury that he breaks the silence.

“Are you a doctor?” He inquires, voice soft.

Your eyes flicker to his face for a moment, slack and devoid of any real emotion. You shift in your seat. “Of sorts.”

“What does that mean?”

You shrug, “Means I’m your only option, so it doesn’t matter.”

Silence again.

“How long have you lived here?”

“Long enough.”

Leon scoffs, “That’s not an answer.”

You pause, lifting your chin to look him directly in the eye. “Doesn’t feel nice does it?”

His expression hardens, “Need to make sure you’re not planning on killing me.”

It’s your turn to scoff, turning back to tending to his wounds, removing the bandage from him a little harshly, “That’s supposed to be my line.”

“What does that mean?” He echoes his words from before.

You still your hands, “It’s not every day I find banged up men in my woods outside. If you think you’re in a situation right now, I suggest you open your eyes and realize I’m in just as much deep shit as you.” You resume your movements, “Plus it would be a waste to kill you now. All that food I’ve wasted on you. And it would be such a pain to drag you out of my house again. Nearly killed my back.”

“You carried me in?” His voice tinged with disbelief.

“Well, it’s not like you floated inside.”

He waits a beat and then says, “I’m not going to hurt you.”

The softness of Leon’s tone nearly singes off the neurons in your brain, his candor so vivid, almost as though he was placing his heart out on his sleeve. You can’t bring yourself to look at him, focusing on the threading of his new bandage. You can only bring yourself to hum in response, gathering and packing your things quickly, unable to check the wound on his thigh this time.

A foreign sensation floods your entire being, soaking you from head to toe the more you linger in his presence. The suddenness of your motion nearly knocks the chair away, eyes focused on a single spot on the floor as you gesture towards the door, “Get some rest. I’ll check in on you later.”

And just before you can leave, you hear it again but this time it doesn’t come as a whisper. It comes as a declaration, loud and engulfing, warming the room in a way your hearth never has, making you falter in your steps.

“Thank you.”

well well well. we seem to be getting somewhere huh? i wonder where tho

[heartfullofleeches]

Sooo uh is it too early to ask for nsfw hcs of carnis?

(I think enough time has passed... Mainly because I've finally got enough written)

Carnis - Yan Lab Experiment NSFW Hcs

• As mentioned in previous posts, Carnis has yet to experience a lot in the human world - sexual urges being yet another. As their bond with Reader grows that starts to change. Their body feels.. strange when their caretaker does certain things. Calls them cute pet names, strokes their ears or face - even just a smile gets their stomach twisted into knots and tension between their legs. It feels good to touch that area, but so wrong to them at the same time. They've always been told their body is just a tool for others - they shouldn't get to feel this way, especially when all they can think about is Reader's hands in place of theirs. It's dirty - wrong, but it feels so good.

They start to wonder if Reader has these same desire. The thought of helping them through it makes them happy.

• Carnis priorities your satisfaction over all, and more importantly theirs. They feel as though they aren't worth the effort and sees your pleasure as their own. With how inexperienced they are, you'll have to teach them a thing or two, but Carnis is willing to do whatever they can to make you happy. Their preferred method is laying back in bed and allowing you to ride their tongue/cock to your heart's content. They like if you use their mouth more since they wouldn't be able to last long inside you and feels guilty if they finish before you.

• Huge oral fixation + very touchy/clingy, but afraid to do both. Wants to touch and lick all over you, but restrains themselves unless given the command. Could spend hours with their head between your legs and still want for longer. If you give them permission to touch you, Carnis' hands will not leave your body. Gropes at your chest, thighs, and whatever you'll allow. Develops a habit of doing this in their sleep which they'll be none the wiser to unless mentioned. You'll know when they're about to cum when they lock fingers with yours or push through their anxiousness to kiss you without asking first.

This fixation works in reverse as well. Despite their years of testing, Carnis' body is very sensitive to certain touches. Kissing on their neck, chest or thighs makes them putty in your hands. Their nipples are especially tender and gripping their horns while they're going down on you will make them see stars. Liked being bitten whether it's enough to draw blood or just a little love bite. Avoids looking in mirrors if you leave hickies because the sight alone gets them aroused.

• Becomes increasingly vocal as they get more comfortable in bed. At first it's tiny whimpers and pants for more, but as they get used to things and you they can't keep their mouth shut. Begs to be touched more, for you to never leave them. Declares their love for you until their voice is raw. If your walls are thin might be best to invest in some sound proofing if you don't want noise complaints from neighbors.

• Sucker for praise and affection. Just wants to be your good boy/pet and to know you really mean it when you say it. Head pats, cutesy pet names, maybe a pretty collar or outfit if you're feeling generous. Carnis would wear anything you threw at them if you said they looked absolutely adorable in it.

• Another way Carnis gets over their aversion to self pleasure is by cumming in the meals they make for you. Long as it can benefit you, Carnis push through most things even the self hatred and guilt of watching you undress or sniffing your clothes and touching themselves because of it. If you mention the food being good, it'll clear them of all negative thoughts towards masturbating and lead to more dishes made with the same special ingredient. Cums on your pillows or clothes as a way to mark you as theirs, but only when they're about to wash them afterwards.

• If you have a dildo/fleshlight they will throw it out unless you use it on them. They're the only toy you need.

• Always looking for new things to try online. Drags you over to the computer to get your approval before buying a new collar or to show you a new position they'd like to try. Missionary is their favorite because they like seeing your face, but they're always open to try other things for you.

• Cuddling/Aftercare is a must. Carnis enjoys a nice bath and snuggling into bed with you, but just laying in your arms straight after is fine with them too. Run your fingers through their hair or just speak softly to them and they'll be out like a light. Thanks you for staying with them and allowing them to love you every minute before they fall asleep. Hugs you tighter if you so much as breath differently and will not let go until they wake up.

[liliannadelaphinehartifelt]

Alastor - [ DEVOTION Pt. 8 ]

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I forgot to mention this in an earlier post, but I sincerely believe the human Alastor had a size kink. There, I said it. Also, this story initially has 15 chapters. I might cut it down to 13, depending on your opinions of the next part I post. WE HAVE OFFICIALLY RETURNED TO THE SMUT PORTION OF THE BOOK YAY ;)

WARNINGS: [ MDNI ] + [ NSFW ] + [ SMUT ] + [ BLOOD AND GORE ] + [ DESCRIPTION OF A MURDER ]

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"Alastor!…" you purred into the crook of his neck, face flushed deep shades of red, and your breaths coming short. His were controlled in contrast, smooth against the shell of your ear as he held you down harder, bruising your soft hips without a care as to how you'd feel seeing the imprints he left later, but you wouldn't have him treat you any other way.

It's what you came to him for more often than not, paying a special visit to his beloved station on the premise of delivering your hardworking husband lunch -or dinner if it happened to be a day he stayed late, and not a soul in the building suspected you had any other motives besides that.

Alastor never turned your visits down. He expected them frequently and became increasingly addicted to having you locked in a room with him for a mere forty minutes or less just for the treat you never failed to gift him.

The basket of food you brought always ended up untouched, completely forgotten the second he slammed the studio door shut behind you and locked it for good measure.

Today was no different than those instances.

You came waltzing into the building, dressed as lovely as ever, and politely greeting every employee who recognized you. A few never failed to give you generous compliments, plainly buttering their boss's wife for high praise and often hoping to get you to conversate about him.

Alastor was methodically mysterious, divulging nothing about himself to anyone outside his immediate circle, which intrigued many outsiders.

Knowing this, you avoided long, invasive conversations with passing bystanders, heading straight to the station building's top floor with a coy smile hidden under the brim of a fashionable hat.

You found Alastor in the same room each time, a designated space for him and him alone. It was a large recording studio, complete with any and every equipment a radio host might need, including an area for rest.

The area was a simple, separated from the recording table he always sat at, but highly particular in arrangement. He only resided there on your visits, enjoying the lush velvet-backed sofa, red chestnut wood coffee table, and expansive floor rug out of pure selfishness for your undivided attention.

You'd knock on the heavy lead door, listening for his signature sign-off phrase into the mic, then the sharp click of his leather shoes as he stalked to the door, and then a crisp clack of the lock being undone. Alastor peers down at you over his glasses, an unforgettable lustful look in his eyes as you raise your head to showcase a ginger smile and big bright eyes. You try not to giggle, seeing him visibly stiffen when you stare at him innocently, testing how long he'll last before dragging you into the room with him.

He holds out for a mere ten seconds a record in your book- before snatching you out of the hall with a quickness that almost makes you trip over your own feet. Alastor anticipates your clumsiness without batting an eye, gently razing you off the floor with one arm before turning and kicking the door shut. "Al!.." you laugh in slight disbelief as he locks the door without a word, spinning on his heel towards his personal lounge area.

You spot the proud grin on his face soon enough, blushing hard as he sets you down on the sofa with ease. "You're late, ma chere," he drawls, eyes lowering to the basket you set in the middle of the table, a habit of routine. You frown a little, setting your hat next to it, letting your curled hair fall freely before giving him an apologetic smile.

"The twins went down for a nap a little later than usual, honey. You'll forgive me this once, yes?.." your lashes flutter, a slight pout on your lips drawing his attention, and the practiced expression renders his scolding useless.

It was no secret to you that your motherly side affected Alastor. If anything, he made it evident by the apparent increase in his appetite for you. Ever since your heart-to-heart months ago, he hadn't been able to keep his hands off you.

You feared at the rate he was going, you'd be pregnant again sooner rather than later.

It wasn't an outcome you would complain about if it did occur, but it was a worrying prospect nonetheless.

Alastor eyed you for a moment longer, eyes on fire, as you patted the empty spot next to him for him to sit. "Let's not waste the time we have left. I've missed you dearly, Al. It's really not fair you stay away so long…" The twinge of sadness in your tone wasn't at all practiced. It was an evident emphasis on the truth and one he couldn't ignore.

He sat down at your request, gaze softening as you grinned at him cheekily, reaching over to cup his face and kiss him tenderly, but as you tried to pull back and speak, he held your chin to keep you close. "Missed me? I'm not sure I believe that, sweetheart.." he peered at your lips, swiping his thumb over the bottom one and quickly pushing it into your mouth without warning. You flinched a bit, not expecting him to be so direct, but slowly coming to enjoy it as your body relaxed and your tongue began to swirl his intruding digit.

Alastor pushed further, allowing you to suck as much as you pleased while his fingers held your chin up, drool dripping beginning to drip down your chin as a result. Your eyes slid shut in bliss, your body warming with desire, and your mind going blank as he pressed his thumb down on your tongue. His grave laughter tickled your ears, the eerie drag of its deepness reeling you in, hypnotizing you with little effort.

"Come to me, my little doe," Alastor beckoned you with a satisfied huff, slipping his thumb from your warm mouth and leaning back into the sofa to fully relax as you fell onto his lap. Your dress shifted high, leaving little to his imagination and showcasing the lace stockings and matching garters you had on.

One look at your thighs in such thin fabric made his eye twitch out of amusement.

You smiled sheepishly as he inhaled sharply through his nose, his head rearing back and a tight smile on his face. "What'd I tell you about doing this, ma chere?" His question was rhetorical, nearly a guttural growl you'd grown to love, especially when his accent peaked with it, "Mmm, I dunno. Must've slipped my mind…." You cocked your head at him, dawning a curious expression as he chuckled wryly, "I see…" he mutters more to himself than you, head lifting slowly and his hands finding the strap of your garters at the same time.

"Tell me, darling…" he inches in closer, admitting a thinly veiled threat as your eyes lock with his and your hands scratch at the fabric of his dress pants. "…am I going to have to rip every single one of these to shreds for you to remember not to wear them around me?" You jolt when he emphasizes his words by snapping the band of your garters against your skin. Hard.

"N-no sir!.." you whine, hips rolling down on his crotch for much-needed friction, and what little relief it brings only lasts for a second before his hands halt you with a grip on your waist.

"Mmm, I don't think so, little doe. You want to be touched badly, so give me a reason." Alastor drank in your desperate expression, adrenaline rushing his veins when tears welled up in your pretty eyes and a defeated whimper left your panting mouth. “Whatever you want…I’ll do it…” you give in without a fight, nails digging into his thighs as his eyes lit up with triumph.

"Such an obedient little thing today, aren't we? Maybe you have missed me…" he snickered, glancing down at your covered thighs again before voicing his request. "Strip. And I'll see if you are worth my time today. Go on.."

He nudged you off his lap with one lift of his knee, careful not to make you fall back on the table as he did so, and once you stood up steadily, he rested back on the couch. You took him in then, the slight wave of his curls beginning to fall over his eyes from the heat of the room, his skin a deeper caramel from the springtime sun that'd been shining on New Orleans, and those swirling hazel irises glinting just for you.

If the devil ever came topside, you were sure he'd have a bone to pick with Alastor based on his looks alone.

Alastor also studied you, maintaining his patience as you reached behind to unzip your dress, but he shook his head at the action. You stopped, eyeing him curiously, "What-"

"Start lower," he instructed nonchalantly, gaze lowering on your body as he took his glasses off and set his teeth on the end of them. You wanted to crumble right then, seeing his pearly whites nip at the metal, stare deathly cold, and his jaw clenched in anticipation.

"Fine.." you mumble, perching yourself on the coffee table's edge to obediently strip your stockings off first. Alastor watched intently, un-afraid to smile more expansive as the thin fabric slipped off your smooth skin, never looking away as you moved on to the garters. The hem of your dress had no purpose left, merely a thin wall between your core and his hungry stare. You tried not to get shy as you snapped the second strap off your thigh, tossing it at him playfully, but as per usual, Alastor caught it with ease.

"Don't be a brat, ma chere.." he mused, a warning you barely headed while standing to your feet again to slip your dress off. You threw that clothing at him next, knowing he'd catch it, and giggled triumphantly when he did. Your joy was cut short as he pulled your bare body back onto his lap after tossing the dress across the room.

A shiver touched you as the fine linens he wore brushed against your skin, calm and somewhat soothing. The only thing more distracting than him being fully clothed was the evident rock-hard tent your cunt was forced to press down on.

Alastor groaned quietly as you rolled your hips down gently, sighing out his name loudly in gratitude before wrapping your arms around his neck. "Wasn't lying when I said I missed you.." you whimpered against his lips, chasing them for a kiss he refused to give until you pressed onto his crotch again.

"Still don't believe you," he grunted, stubborn as ever, and you smiled into the next heated kiss. Dragging the messy exchange out intended to render his argumentative tongue useless, and your goal seemed to be reached as you parted moments later. A thin string of saliva connected your lips, breaking as you gave a kitten lick at the corner of his mouth. Alastor cursed quietly at the shameless gesture, finding his resolve again when you threw a bold smirk his way.

"Believe me now, Monsieur Hartifelt," your French cadence earned an unconscious jolt of his hips, an almost uncanny natural reaction he couldn't help hearing you taunt him most subtly. “I've had enough of that mouth of yours, darlin'." The shreds of his polished persona vanished entirely at the words, his glasses tossed to the side, and the now free hand coming to grasp your jaw as the other reached to unbuckle his belt.

You blush heavily as he keeps your face near his, not allowing you to watch as he removes his painfully hard cock from the confines of his pants. It throbs against your mound, twitching when you moan quietly from the sensation, proudly desperate for it.

Desperate for him.

Alastor observed the gentle plead in your expression, merely smirking back at you and lifting an expectant brow. "Manners, ma chere…" His implication made you restless, willing to do anything he asked to get what you wanted, so you did as he told.

"Please…fuck me. Please…" you whispered, embarrassed beyond comprehension but very pleased with yourself nonetheless as Alastor slid his length between your folds for its slick before resting his tip right at your entrance. You raised your hips just right, finally able to glance down as Alastor shifted his hold on your face to your waist, using the new grip to slide you down on his cock with ease.

Your mouth hung open in awe as he slipped inside your gummy walls, a stinging stretch lingering with every inch he forced you to take, "Slow…Alastor…please slow down…" you croaked softly in his ear, shaking violently in his grip as he ignored you and continued to ease himself into you at his own pace.

"You can take it…Darling, you've done it before," he groaned rather loudly, hooking an arm around your waist, bearing your cunt onto him with tender force. Your stomach flipped as he hit your womb spot-on, brushing your sweet spot at the very same time, but the precise strike was followed by a harsher one, which left you restless for more.

"Al-Alastor!…" you barely shrieked in delight, slumping forward into his broad torso as he bounced you up and down his length. "Not so loud, dear," he scolded you absentmindedly, kissing the corner of your mouth as it gaped open to let out obscene noises. "Sorry.." you whimpered, mind a blur with every rut of his hips and nerves on fire as his cock delved in and out of your drooling slit.

"No need to apologize, ma chere… if the whole world must hear you scream, I'd rather they hear my name…" Alastor rambled on with an edge to his voice, eyes sliding closed while your hands coursed through his dark curls for a sense of comfort as he pounded into you.

Butterflies swirled in your stomach with his every thrust, multiplying whenever he groaned and never ceasing as the sparks of pleasure built under your skin. You tugged the strands of his hair, face rose red, eyes bright and watery, and spit sliding from your open mouth as he leaned his head back to get a good view of you…

"My darling wife…does it feel that good, hm? You can't even speak, sweetheart. That's fine��you look and sound just as lovely even without your wits…" he flashed a coy smirk, admiring the slight roll of your eyes as he gave a mainly driven thrust to your cunt.

Your walls instinctively contacted, begging for another aggressive strike, and Alastor obliged as a grateful groan slipped from his chest. "Atta girl… can't get enough, can you?" He laughs in your ear, breath hitching as his cock twitches for a nearing release and the knot in your core spiraling tighter at the feeling.

You nod frantically, moans reaching a higher octave, scarcely muffled by his skin as you hide your face in the crook of his neck. “Alastor…wanna come… ’m gonna- mmm…” you reached a hand to claw at his back, all your strength leaving your body as it reacted to his without your direct control. He let your hips move without his assistance, content with you matching the pace he set and on the verge of blanking out himself the closer you brought him.

Alastor planted his feet firmly, hands on your waist, frame tense as you leaned back a bit, resting your hands on his knees for support as you rode him of your own volition.

He smiled at the glint of your ruby-encrusted wedding band, fit snugly on your ring finger, an explicit claim of your existence. A claim you had on him as well.

It wasn't common for you to have this much control during sex, not for this long either, so you took the opportunity with an eagerness he found endearing. The view you got of your dear husband was something truly divine, a near fucked out expression on his usually cheery face, hazel eyes now a dark amber, hair too messy to be considered an honest mistake on your part, and his focus pinned to you.

The cockiest smirk inched its way onto his lips when he noticed you staring; your time to have the upper hand was promptly cut short as he jolted suddenly, the forceful shift causing your hands to slip and be pinned behind your back by one of his.

You didn't dare to argue as he stared into your dazed glare, having nothing to do but sit there and be at his complete mercy. It was worth it, coating his cock with your slick, your thighs trembling from the jabs of pleasure he inflicted and the utterly brutal precision he used to bruise your cervix until a delirious cry tumbled from your mouth.

All of it… you happily endure just to be close to him.

Your high hit like a tidal wave, unforgiving and driven further by his continuous thrusts upwards into your cunt. "Al…Alastor, please, I've had….en-"You gave up trying to speak, out of breath, as you slumped forward into his chest, basking in the overstimulation he caused. The fever of his pace faltered then, body giving way to its urges as your walls continually suffocated him.

Thick strings of cum covered your walls, gently filling you to the brim, and neatly stuffed inside until he softened enough to move away.

Alastor chuckled as you whined defiantly, feeling him pull out so briskly. "A little longer," you plead, showing him practiced puppy dog eyes, hoping to get extra attention, but he simply placed a chaste kiss on your glistening forehead. "My break is nearly over, darling. I'll have to be on air soon, and I would like to enjoy the food you made beforehand."

You sighed dramatically, ignoring the lazy smile he threw your way as he straightened himself out and searched for his glasses. You found them before he did, smiling wide as he watched you prick them from the couch and place them on his face, "Next time, I won't bring you lunch then." Your empty threat amused him but did nothing to change his mind.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, mademoiselle. Then a bite to eat before you head home, yes?"

"Well, if you insist," You stood, playfully rolling your eyes as he followed suit, towering over you and planting a kiss on your nose as a silent apology.

"Smile, darling. You're never fully dressed without one."

————- ————— ———— ————

“You are a lifesaver, Rosie,” you thank the grinning blonde as she gathers her belongings from the front door’s side table, ready to make her way back home from an afternoon of watching over Adonis and Antionette while you were out running errands -or rather paying Alastor a much-deserved visit at work. You swallowed thickly, remembering exactly what conspired between you and your husband less than thirty minutes after you arrived at the station. Luckily, your cheeks didn't heat up, and your expression remained fixed as Rosie piped up after slipping her day gloves on.

“Oh, it's no problem, dear! They are my god niece and nephew, after all, and I could never say no to you or Al..” she giggled softly as you smiled shyly, still unable to be discreet about your adoration for the older man even if she'd mentioned his name. Indeed, you had eyes for no one else, but he and Rosie could hardly blame you for it.

“Besides,” she smirked, reaching for the door as you stared at her curiously, “…I’m sure you both enjoy the rare quality time together more often now that the twins are so lively..” Her emphasis on ‘quality time’ stuns you for a moment, the blush you'd successfully surpassed now blooming on your face, “Well…I suppose it is nice to see him without interruptions.”

She laughed softly, seeing your flustered reaction morph into gentle offensiveness. You could beat her teasing, but you must still justify your obsession with Alastor.

“Mmm, I would assume so, dear. Now, I'll be on my way and as always phone me if you need my help, oui?” Rosie chimed, waiting for you to nod in understanding before she waltzed out the door and began her walk back to her own home. You watched from the entry window as she crossed the lush front garden lawn, turning to wave at you one last time before passing through the gate and disappearing around the corner.

You sat there for a moment longer, profoundly thinking about the events of your day, mainly reminiscing on the time you spent with Alastor only an hour ago. The intimacy that so easily turned into having a quiet conversational lunch with him in his studio. It brought a smile to your face, your love for him, making the world feel light under your feet, and the hard times you thought would never end becoming a distant memory.

Your thoughts were halted as familiar crying sounded from upstairs, a normal noise you expected to hear so late in the evening and one you happily went towards. As you entered their nursery, the twins were wide awake, a lovely, cozy room Alastor had meticulously designed himself. You had some say in the decor, but most of the work was done by him, which meant there was a shelf full of classical books, a radio set on the highest ledge, and a few handmade dolls his mother had gifted you occupying the other empty spots on the lower shelves. Other gifts you revived from the guests at Rosie’s party were neatly stacked in one corner of the room. A rocking chair faced the windows that let in the soft breeze and warm sunlight, their business situated right next to it, and a wardrobe full of clothes placed on the adjacent wall.

Alastor had taken his time with the room, putting in the effort for his children that you suspected his father had lacked for him when he was a child. Your husband would never admit such a dedication out loud, very guarded about the subject of his father even if he were long dead, but you never pried at the matter. You'd allow him to talk about it whenever he was ready, simply appreciative of his commitment to the twins and generally pleased with his strive to be a better father than his own.

“Are my loves already awake?” you cooed at the whining infants, leaning over their bassinets to admire them up close. Adonis took on Alastors features without a doubt. Not a soul could say that wasn't his son, and his mother had proudly proclaimed her grandson to be her son's spitting image any time the comparison was made.

Antionette, on the other hand, favored you the most. Alastor was taken with her from the start, bonding with the smaller version of you almost instantly. She always seemed content in her father���s arms, staring at him like the sun, moon, and stars rolled up into one man. She took on not only your features but also your love for Alastor.

They were your darlings, the combination of you and Alastor that kept your heart light.

You took another eminent to admire them before starting their evening routine. A quick feeding, changing, and playtime, all while listening to Alastor’s nightly broadcast through the nursery’s radio. For an hour, his voice blanketed the room, cutting in and out between records of newly released jazz, which was all the more comforting for you.

It wasn’t long before the twins doxed back to sleep, their father’s voice carrying the gentle static, making it easier for them to drift off. You hummed to the following melody aired as you put each infant to bed, placing a chaste kiss on their heads before switching off the radio and wandering back downstairs.

Alastor would be home soon, and you had a few tasks to finish before dinner time rolled around…

The house was aglow with shades of orange and purple light, the setting sun casting a claiming tint over each room you migrated to, completing mundane adjustments as the clock ticked on.

You were nearly finished organizing the desk in his study when a quick rap of knocking sounded from the front door. You glanced at the fireplace clock, noting it was 8 in the evening, which was far too late for any visitor you might’ve been expecting. “Who could it be at this hour?..” you mumbled, leaving Alastor’s now clean study to find out who exactly was at your front door.

The knocking started again as you waltzed closer to open it, almost offensively loud this time, and you grimaced at the potential of such noise waking the twins from their sleep.

You unlocked the door and opened it swiftly, holding back a glare as the culprit came into your view, but the restraint you had momentarily slipped seeing a familiar face staring back at you.

Oh…..

You didn’t care to see her, especially outside of the binds of social events, but here she was at your doorstep.

“Catherine Lafayette…”

The brunette grinned as you murmured her name, obnoxiously sweet persona shining through her bothersome high-pitched greeting.

“Long time no see, Y/n! Can’t believe I finally caught you at home!..”

You were tempted to roll your eyes at her, well aware she was the neighborhood's resident overbearing HOA president, wife of the police chief, and your childhood annoyance.

Her father had been a long-time partner with your own, so you were forced to have elongated play dates with her and the brat of a little sister that trailed her heels. You would’ve loved to have a nice word for her, but from the start of your acquaintance, she was a raging bully, entitled, and morbidly unaware of her debilitating company.

You managed to avoid her after marrying Alastor and moving into the neighborhood, only having to endure her loud mouth on occasion at public events, and for a year, that seemed to suffice.

Unfortunately, Catherine had a knack for sticking her nose where it did not belong, and it just so happened that she lodged it in your business.

“It has been a while. Is there something you need at this late hour? A cup of sugar or a pint of milk-“

You politely offered everyday items of exchange, wanting to get her out of your face as soon as humanely possible, but she merely giggled loudly and threw her hands up in dismissal.

“Oh, no, hun! I came over to give you the Garrison Gala invitations in person! You know it’s coming up real soon!” She reached into her clutch purse, taking her pick of freshly sealed cardstock envelopes before holding two out for you to take.

You stared at her outstretched hand, not believing that was the only reason she’d stopped by, “That’s sweet of you, Catherine, but don’t we usually get those in our mail?..” She seemed slightly taken aback by your blunt observation, used to hearing your soft-spoken voice complying with others rather than questioning them, but you weren’t the girls she’d tormented in the past.

You’d changed…and it was brazenly obvious.

Catherine’s smile shifted to a closed smirk, bright red lipstick forming a thin line as you eyed her up and down, “Me and Von thought it’d be a nice change to hand them out in person this year. He thinks it’ll excite more people about donating to the city’s cause this year..”

You didn’t believe a word out of her mouth, not fond of her husband either, who your father had once offered your hand to during Alastor’s absence from Louisiana. Thankfully, Von never got the chance to have your hand in marriage; Alastor promptly swooped in to slip a ring on your finger quicker than he could blink, so Von settled for Catherine.

You knew she harbored a little more hatred for you because of that fact but would never admit it out loud, too proud of being the police chief's wife and too stubborn to concede that you were her husband's original pick.

With a small smile of triumph, you plucked the invitations from her hand, ready to thank and bid her goodbye, but she cut in right before you could.

“Mind if I stay for a minute. I’ve been running around the neighborhood all day, and you are my last stop. I’ve been wanting to catch up with you for a while now..” she grinned, appropriately smug, as her explanation gave you no room for refusal, and you wished to god that simply slamming the door in her face would make her disappear for good.

However, that would be rude, and in a town like New Orleans, being crude to another -especially if you were a significant idol's partner- did not bode well for public perception. You were sure she’d rant to anyone who listened that you’d refused to host her.

So, you reluctantly nodded with a stiff smile, agreeing to suffer her company for a bit longer. “Why don’t you come on in then? I just finished making a pot of hot chocolate…”

Catherine hummed, clearly pleased with herself as you led the way inside the house, having to remind yourself that slamming the door shut might wake the twins but dreaming of doing it out of anger, seeing the slight woman eye your home's interior.

As if she had an authority on your taste in home design…

God, Alastor, please come home soon so I can get rid of this harping bitch…

————— —————— —————- ————

Catherine's short visit was anything but…

When you led her into the dining room, she was already rambling about some rumor she had picked up from another housewife down the street. You tried to seem interested or at least flattered to have her talking your ear off with nonsense, but as she grabbed on while sitting at the table, you couldn't wait for her to get to the point.

You were starting to wish Rosie had stayed a bit longer. She surely would've put her foot down with Catherine, who is famously not a fan of her, and she would have been a better boundary setter, too. Unfortunately, as always, you were too lovely and could only nod with an empty smile as the woman ranted.

She hadn't changed once since your childhood together, speaking highly of herself only, bragging about nearly everything, and topping all her vanity off with the guise of a pleasant personality. It was tiring to see and even more exhausting to listen to.

After the longest two minutes of your life, you cut into her following sentence to avoid another five full of slanderous gossip. “Why don't I go pour us a cup of hot chocolate? All this talking can make us women very thirsty.”

Your covered insult hit a nerve for Catherine, her red lips pulling into a proper grin as you stood to do just as you said. You had intended to hear an answer from her, content to listen to her clear her throat in gratefulness or iteration…you aren't entirely sure of her intention, having walked into the kitchen already when she did speak back up.

“How are the twins doin'? I hear it was a tough feat for you to have em…”

Your eye twitched as you turned from the table, agitated that she asked something so personal but unable to muster the energy to avoid answering it.

The truth was it did take a toll on you physically and mentally. You’d never want to go through it again….not shortly anyway.

You highly doubted Alastor would want another child so soon, either.

However, expressing any of your negative thoughts to Catherine would only turn into her spouting the information to every other homemaker in town, so you settled on telling her a white lie. At the same time, you prepared the cups of sweet melted chocolate.

“It…was certainly an experience. I’ve always wanted children of my own, and I’m glad to have them. Alastor is a wonderful father, too…”

You said the last partly quietly, smiling softly at the memory of Alastor playing with your children whenever he had free time. Still, your reminder was cut short as Catherine’s snotty laughter sounded from the dining room.

You stopped what you were doing, perplexed and a little angry.

Had she found something you said funny?..

“I’m sorry….was something I said amusing?..” Catherine stopped laughing as your soft voice carried from the kitchen, a little sharper than usual and a hint of annoyance.

She smirked wide, finally satisfied with your state, “Oh, no, honey. I can’t imagine all of yours being any good with children. He was always strange when we were kids, and I could’ve sworn Von caught him beating another boy half to death just for speaking about his skin…He is a mixed breed, so I never understood why he got offended by someone pointing it out…”

Her careless description of Alastor had you fuming immediately and instantaneous anger rushing your veins like liquid fire. Still, you swallowed the vile words you wanted to spit out and continued to listen to her.

“Ya know, that reminds me…Von did mention a suspicion he had about your husband recently. Something to do with the Bayou Butcher….”

Catherine grinned, hearing you stop all movement in the kitchen, feeling proud of herself for startling you and eager to pry some helpful information from you on behalf of her unsuspecting husband.

The pace of your heart slowed drastically as her statement hung in the air. Nonexistent bells began to ring in your head as the world seemed to tilt on its side, and your chest felt stuffed with anxiety.

She knew- no…her husband knew something…was on to Alastor…which could only mean….

You blinked slowly, feeling eerily calm as the realization dawned on you, but the need to panic was so far away you’d failed to touch it.

“Oh? Why would Von ever think that? Alastor is always at the station and is a kind, sweet, and hardworking man. I find it hard to believe he’d even hurt a fly..” your tone was almost too light, too carefree, but you kept a calm demeanor while finishing up the cups of hot chocolate.

Catherine grimaced where she sat, rolling her eyes at your attempt to act unbothered, “You and I both know your husbands’ always had a few screws loose, Y/n. Even your father knew, so don’t act so clueless, dear. I’m only trying to give you a heads up before push comes to shove…” She held back a snicker at her insincerity, holding nothing but a grudge against you and your oh-so-perfect life with Alastor…

One she wished to have with Von but couldn’t since his obsession with work and justice ranked higher than loving her.

You had a doting husband who balanced life well and cared for you, your children, and his career.

You had endless avenues of income, a good background, an even better public perception, and a well-educated mindset that you could easily use to get any profession available.

You had it all, and the first chance she’d get to strip it all away from you, she vowed to take it.

Holding the information regarding Alastor’s name possibly being involved with cannibalistic murder cases was a perfect opportunity to do so.

You smiled, finding it funny that Catherine could be so bold, underestimate you, and try again to bully you into her shadow…ten years later and in your home of all places.

“I suppose you’re right, Catherine…” You grinned, re-entering the dining room with lively steps, setting her cup down, then your own, but hesitated to take your seat as she sipped her drink with a pleased hum.

“Aren’t you gonna join me,” she peered up at you expectantly, confident that you’d comply with her every demand, but you shook your head with a slightly surprised expression. “Oh, do forgive me. I forgot to plate the fresh beignets for us. I’ll be right back..”

You waltzed out of the room, ignoring the eye roll she gave you in response and completely disregarding the platter of freshly baked pastries set on your kitchen counter to open up the knife drawer instead.

Alastor…forgive me…

You felt a tear fall down your cheek as the sturdy black handle slid into your hand, cold but light as a feather. Your senses felt elevated, your heart a steady drum despite the fear clouding your thoughts, and yet the calm you felt was bordering natural as you turned to pick up the plate of beignets swiftly.

The warmth of the plate was comforting, a feeling you focused on as you glided back into the dining room with a kind smile plastered on your face. Catherine gave a fabricated smile of gratitude as you neared her, ready to grab a sweet treat. You set the platter in front of her from the side, but as she reached for one, you fisted a hand in her as tightly as possible.

Before the woman had a chance to tell in surprise or spout out another offensive remark, you revealed the knife behind your back, letting it glint in the dining room’s chandelier light right before her terrified eyes and quickly lowering it to slit her throat in one swift drag of your hand.

Catherine gulped; a horrendous sound of blood clogging her airway filled your ears, and the sight of it pooling from the wound she had caused was equally horrific.

But you couldn’t bring yourself to be afraid or even muster an ounce of guilt or despair.

All you felt was relief, joy, and a twinge of happiness seeing the life leave her eyes.

A smile graced your face as she finally went limp, head hanging low in your hand as you dropped the blood-stained knife onto the red tablecloth runner.

“You know it’s rude to make a mess at a host’s dinner table, Catherine…and threaten my family too..” Your grip on her head loosened, letting the body part slump.

You sighed, seeing her lifeless body folded over your freshly waxed dinner table, her blood beginning to trickle off its sides and onto the art deco-style tiled floor.

Thank god it was tile…

After a moment of silence, your mind drifted back to reality, packed to the brim with an array of emotions, but none as the guilt you felt now seeing the mess you’d made.

You’d never wanted to hurt anything or anyone in your life…

Let alone kill someone…

Yet, you had done just that to protect your family…to protect Alastor.

It felt…good.

Right even, but the guilt ate away at you as more of Catherine’s blood pooled on the floor.

Alastor…forgive me, please…

Your heart rate quickened at the thought of him seeing what you’d done, how he’d react to your gruesome actions, and what he’d have to say about it.

You knew him to be a killer, but him seeing you as one?…

That…felt terrifying to imagine…

It felt worse that your guilt stemmed from the possibility of Alastor finding you standing over a dead body with blood on your hands rather than feeling bad about killing her…

You glanced at Catherine, trying to feel remorseful but only able to think one thing.

The bitch had it coming…

Ding Dong Ding…

The clock’s chiming startled you out of your daze, signaling the time had drifted to 9 in the evening, which left you thirty minutes before Alastor arrived home.

“Fuck…”

You whispered, feeling a bit rushed as you peeled Catherine’s body off the table, gently laying it on the ground to attempt pulling it towards the basement through the kitchen.

Her weight had doubled without oxygen in her body, and you groaned in defeat when you could only drag her two feet from the table.

How in the world does he do things like this so effortlessly?…

With a sigh, you gave up on the task, sinking to your knees beside the body with a frown. You tried to think of other alternatives, quick fixes to the enormous problem, but your mind couldn’t compute any suitable solution.

Not one that could be done by the time Alastor unlocked the front door…

“Click”

xxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxxx xxx

Von = Human Vox … I know he's from a different time, but in this story, he will be one of the main antagonists…sue me.

TAGS ❤️: @rapturenyx @michi-keinz @shealizxx @nissrinina @destinyisastar @bubblegumheartsy @sailorsmouth @aestheticgals-blog @rameisa @ellesette @gasiacos @marvelgirl123 @dinosaur-crime-scene @mo-0-o

[ BONUS CONTENT + ]

[xxventiswindblumexx]

𓁹Let Me Breed You𓁹

──────⊹⊱✫⊰⊹──────

-You help the Adaptus from dying in the snow and in return he wants to make you his mate-

Yandere!Xiao x afab reader

⚠Warnings⚠:Non-Con, force breeding, breeding kink, predator and prey dynamics, feral Xiao, injured Xiao, Blood, Yandere themes.

It was a cold morning in Liyue, snow scattered the ground of the region as most chose to stay home and enjoy the snow day, however you couldnt, you're a studying nurse who needed to test out some herbs and well these special herbs you're looking for only grow in the cold areas, so hoping to avoid a trip to Dragonspine with this newfound snow day you hoped to find the herb. The weather had turned for the worst, becoming even more bitter and cold, it made you feel like you were being eaten alive even if it wasn't all that bad. Just as you're about to give up your search you noticed something in the distance, squinting you realized it's... a person! They're laying in the snow, unmoving.

You quickly made your way to them to see it was the famous Adaptus Xiao, he was bloodied and unconscious.

Quickly you reached down to feel his neck, faint but he still had a pulse. So you used all your strength to pick up the Adeptus and carry him to your cabin nearby, tending to his wounds, luckily with him not being human he would heal rather fast with the help of your care.

After a few days of treatment and healing you had healed all of his injuries, thankfully not enough to leave permanent scars or be any trouble, but he will get better now, hopefully.

That's how it all started, how the lonely Adaptus Xiao found a new fascination, before now he didn't really have any relationships, any care for humans other then his usual duty to protect them. But then you came along and everything changed, you brought him joy when nothing else could. You helped him become what he wants and wanted is to find love again, he wants someone to take care of him, someone to treat his wounds and tell him everything will be okay. It's like there was never anything wrong with him, even when he didn't want to accept these feelings, he knew they where true.

Of course after a few months you suggested he should probably get back to his usual dutys now that he's healed but to come back occasionally to chat, it's true he was fine now but.. he didn't want to leave, he didn't want to be away for even a moment but complied for now, these strange feelings only becoming more complicated for the poor Adapti as he's trying to figure them out.

Obsession, a simple word that his once innocent love became, even with his duties he made time to watch over you, stalking from a distance and keeping himself hidden. He didn't know what to say to you, even with these feelings he was still very socially awkward so he opted to just watch for now.

But you never notice, no one did because he's very good at staying inconspicuous, and you never notice him because he can always blend into the background, especially when he needs to.

And thats how things continue, for a while, over a span of a year he would watch you become the nurse you wanted to be, getting your license. However that's a problem, you wanted to be a travelling nurse, he couldn't have you leaving, he already killed so many men who attempted to swoon you, sent you so many gifts that seemed strange for toy. Most being parts of the enemies he killed that day, to show he could fight for you, sometimes being food, to show he can provide for you and even once the head of a guy that was being overly flirty to you, to show he can protect you. However he never put who sent the presents, he assumed you would know, unknowingly you're freaking out from such strange gifts.

However now isn't the time for him to send gifts, he has to act. Though with his now clouded judgement and twisted thinking he learned humans don't generally leave partners if they have offsprings, he could do that, then you wouldn't leave, you couldn't.

So he decided a gentle approach first, appeared before your home for the first time in over a year since you parted ways, well as far as you knew. Of course not knowing he was responsible for all the strange occurrences around you, you where relieved to see him, even hugging him.

"Xiao! I'm so glad you're back!" You felt so protected with him around, afraid of the stalker you knew Xiao could protect you.

His face reddening some as he hesitated but held you close, almost not letting go. You let him in as you spoke, at first it was of simple things, about what has been up to what you been doing and so on. It seemed pleasant until he out of the blue tackled you to your futon, blushing hard as you looked up at him "X-Xiao whats-"

"Let me breed you"

a simple demand to him yet such a strong one for you, he just shows up after a year demanding such.. a huge thing.

"Xiao! Y-You can't just ask someone that-"

"Why? I've shown my love, I've shown my capabilities, just submit to me like a good mate won't you? " His eyes no longer held the same shy sweet look but rather an empty coldness you could only describe as pure lust. He was staring at you, waiting for you to respond to him. He looked hungry, almost predatory, yet you struggled against him, you even managed to push him off and run for the door, escaping out while he was confused at first but took it as a game of predator and prey, assuming you wanted him to catch you first.

He was soon chasing you outside your house with his mask on, you ran as fast as you could, you ended up hiding in a small cave area. Breathing heavily as you tried to catch your breath, it was all so clear, he was the one doing all this, it made sense, he would be the only one able to pull it all off.

You needed to get help, to find someone, maybe even get Zhongli to hel-

"Found you" his voice spoke from behind you, before you could react he already had you pinned down onto the ground, panting from your sudden exertion. You couldn't move, you were stuck as much by fear as by his hold on you. "Xiao please-"

"Please what?" His eyes held no warmth anymore as he leaned in to whisper "Will you agree to let me mate you? To make us one forever?"

You shook your head as your heart sank to the ground, tears forming in the corner of your eyes from your fear. "No."

He froze for a moment before, he looked hurt for a second but brushed it aside. "Don't worry, you'll learn to love me as I am eventually, right?" His eyes held a cold look yet he didn't need your response, he would make you love him.

He held your wrists above your head with one hand as he kissed you harshly, his lips where cold as his other hand felt your clothes body, as if to admire how well you looked in your outfit before ripping it from you. You screamed as he did so, unable to stop yourself as his lips moved to attack your exposed body, biting and kissing every part of your body as you writhed against him, he gripped you harder and rougher each second as he devoured you with his mouth and teeth. You soon felt two of his fingers shove themselves into your hole, stretching and preparing you, you closed your eyes and cried out in pain as you felt his finger stretch inside of you. A loud cry left your mouth as you felt the pain, your eyes wide open as tears continued to stream down your cheeks.

Suddenly he pulled out, leaving you gasping as the feeling of emptiness began to take over your whole body. You hated how your body betrayed you so, reacting to his touches like this. Before long you felt his cock slam into you, forcing himself further inside you making sure to keep most of his weight against you to keep you from wiggling away. Soon you saw stars as he slammed into you, his thrusts never failing to push himself as deep as he could, letting out animalistic growls as held you close to him, feeling his breath hitch some, his cock twitching inside as he continues his harsh pace. The next sound you heard was your own scream as his cum filled your womb and poured over your sensitive opening and out your body, coating you both in sticky white fluid and the smell was sickeningly sweet. As his cum dripped down you felt so tired, so exhausted. Barely able to keep your eyes open as he looked down at you, seemingly proud of the mess he made of you. "this will do nicely, there shouldn't be any reason you wouldn't bare my offspring" laying along side you on the cold ground, huddling you close to him. "I promise you I will always protect you and give you everything you crave" as he nuzzled your neck before finally falling asleep in your arms.

You remained silent as you felt your consciousness slip, the last thing you saw before you succumbed to sleep was the warm body next to yours holding you close as his breathing calmed and eventually slowed down until it turned quiet.

[justhereforxreaders]

The Prince and the Dragon Rider - Part Two: Tempest

Jacaerys Velaryon x dragon rider!reader

Summary: Princess Rhaenyra leads you across the fortress of Dragonstone to reunite with your dragon but the journey becomes more complicated as the night goes on.

Warnings: mentions of blood

soundtrack

part one: the oath

part three: the dawn

part four: the test

part five: precipice

part six: pieces and players

part seven: the rift

The night you left the Pentosi coast, you had no idea what kind of life waited for you across the Narrow Sea but you knew it would be far better than the one you were leaving behind.

More than half of your lifetime and the whole of your dragon's had been spent on the run or hidden away in seaside caves. The known world held many dangers especially for a child. You learned far too quickly however, that your greatest danger was starvation. With no coin to your name and little strength to hunt, you were forced to travel along the coast, learning to fish for both you and your dragon. She had acquired such a taste for fish that even after she had taken flight, she still favored fish over livestock, choosing to scavenge upon fishing vessels.

Once she had grown too large to poach stealthily, she learned to dive below the water for larger prey, hunting what was drawn in by those same fishing boats. Even with this new hunting strategy, sightings of her dark shape beneath the surface could not be avoided, causing the two of you to travel with constant caution and haste.

When the cliffs of Dragonstone first became visible on the horizon, the setting sun was disappearing behind it, making it glow orange. After a full days ride over the sea, you had assumed it was another stop on your journey. Until you saw the dragons flying overhead.

Just their silhouettes upon the darkening sky was enough cause for alarm but your dragon showed no sign of distress at the appearance of her kin. She merely dove down to fly just above the dark waves. Her black scales with sporadic streaks of white were the perfect camouflage for the choppy twilight sea. After circling the island and exploring various coves, she landed in the water, you still clinging to her neck. She gave you a quick moment to prepare a deep breath before diving below the surface.

The salt water stung your eyes as you tried to track where she was taking you but with the sunlight quickly fading, there was no hope of distinguishing your surroundings. Giving up the vain effort, you closed your eyes tight, pressing your face to the back of her head to help you concentrate on holding your breath. Just as you were about to reach your limit, she breaks the surface of a pool within a large cavern. You gasp for air and she swims to the rocky ledge of your new home.

You now find yourself on the polar opposite of your cave; sitting on a plush bed, being served hot food, within the walls of the castle of Dragonstone. Even before setting out west from Asshai, nothing you had ever experienced was as luxurious as these modest commodities.

As you take one last bite of your meal, Princess Rhaenyra stands from her seat at the window and walks towards you.

"Are you ready to go?" She says with the slightest hint of annoyance.

The Princess had offered to take you to the dragonmont to reunite with your dragon after showing you to your chambers within the servants quarters. Though she began to mirror a similar level of exhaustion as your own, she insisted on escorting you herself, seeming very intent on laying eyes on your dragon.

You nod, mouth still full of food, and rise to meet her at the door.

Due to the lateness of the hour, the walk to the dragonmont is mostly silent. Footsteps on stone and the crackle of the torches held by the two kingsguard that escort you are the only sounds that fill the air. When your party approaches the massive doors carved into the mountain, you are met by a trio of people dressed in simple robes that block the path forward.

The Princess exchanges words with the leader of the three in that same foreign tongue as in the throne room. Though the words are completely indecipherable to you, their tone gives you cause to shuffle awkwardly. Both participants gesture towards you throughout the conversation, only furthering your discomfort. They thankfully come to some agreement and move aside for you to enter. All three robed figures watch you pass by with scrutiny before returning to their posts guarding the entrance.

Lacking the courage to endure another unfriendly face, you drop your head, lifting your gaze only enough to follow the hem of the Princess's gown that just barely grazes the ground behind her. It isn't until you pass through an archway and the temperature suddenly drops that you look up to see you have entered a large cave with a platform jutting out into the darkness. The lightning outside can be seen through a large opening to the far left of the platform. It is only after a bright flash from the storm that a dark shape is illuminated at the end of the stone formation.

The kingsguard draw their blades but Rhaenyra orders them to stand down. After her command echoes throughout the vast cavern, a voice calls out from the edge.

"Mother?" It asks, before uttering, "Dracarys."

You are relieved to find familiar sight of Vermax's green scales shimmering by the firelight he emits up into the empty air above. And just below the young green dragon, now fully illuminated by his fire, stands his rider. You take an involuntary step in the Prince's direction but are quickly stopped in your tracks by the authoritative voice of Rhaenyra.

"Jacaerys!" The Princess scolds, "What are you doing here?!"

Vermax takes flight from the ledge and retreats into the abyss while Jace makes his way towards the torch light. Once his is a few short paces away, he takes notice of your face and lets out a quiet gasp before sprinting to your side. When within arms reach, he moves seemingly to embrace you but becomes aware of the curious eyes that surround the two of you. He quickly adjusts his arm to place it on your shoulder instead.

"I am glad to see you," he gives your shoulder a gentle squeeze and leans down ever so slightly to make eye contact with you. His eyebrows knit together and his face becomes serious, trying to communicate a question you can’t quite perceive before he continues, "What are you doing here?"

Inadvertently repeating the same question his mother just asked of him. She steps toward the two of you to repeat her inquiry once more but you speak before she can form the words.

"We were told Tempest was here," your voice now heavy with dread.

"She was," Jace says quickly, trying to soothe your worry, "just briefly but she was here and did not appear to be injured."

"Where has she gone?" The Princess interjects.

Jace tears his gaze from you to answer his mother but his hand lingers on your shoulder.

"I don't know. She left in quite a hurry though so l assumed she went back..." he trails off, turning back to you, unsure of how much you have revealed to his mother. You nod, encouraging him to continue. "I think she went back to their cave to look for y/n."

"How far away are we from the stairs?" You ask hastily.

"The garden is on the other side of the castle grounds but the path should be clear enough to make it there quickly," Jacaerys assures you.

The pair of you turn to Princess Rhaenyra, who quirks a brow and Jace removes his hand from your shoulder.

"Let us make haste then," she declares as she walks towards the exit, cutting right between the Prince and yourself.

Jace opens his mouth to say something to you when Rhaenyra stops suddenly and calls over her shoulder,

"Jacaerys," she turns to the side, back facing you, "walk with me."

She begins walking and Jace gives you an apologetic glance before falling into step beside his mother. You spare one more hopeful look towards the shadows, listening closely for the beat of Tempest's wings, but to no avail. The kingsguard meant to be following behind the party lets out a quiet cough and gestures towards the others. You stride quickly to catch up to them and the kingsguard follows in suit. As you approach, you hear Rhaenyra begin speaking to her son.

"You're meant to be resting," she reprimands, almost playfully, "How did you get down here?"

"I snuck out while the guards changed," he chuckles, "They weren't exactly vigilant when they were told by the maesters I was deep asleep."

The Princess shakes her head and lets out a soft snicker.

"Oh," he jests, "as if you never snuck out to the dragonpit in the middle of the night."

A smile forms on your face as you watch the imposing mask of the Princess melt away as she laughs with her son. Jace had told you many stories of his family, the love he felt for them evident as he shared with you. Witnessing it firsthand, however, was even more heartwarming.

As the company draws near to the exit, a fourth figure now stands among the guards you had encountered on the way in. The figure stands facing away but turns as your footfalls grow louder.

"I wondered where everyone had disappeared to," murmurs the unmistakable voice of Daemon Targaryen. "I worried the little thief might have escaped with hostages."

Jace makes to charge forward but is halted my his mother's arm shooting out in front of him. The mask returns to Rhaenyra's face.

"Daemon," she admonishes, "this is y/n. They have sworn fealty to our house and will do so again in front of the council on the morrow." She lets her words hang in the air for a moment before continuing, "We are escorting them to their camp to make an introduction to their dragon if you wish to join us."

She strolls past him with Jacaerys in tow, leaving the two of you face to face once more. You watch him carefully as you stand rooted to the ground.

"Y/n," Rhaenyra calls without stopping her stride, "let us hurry if we are to achieve a reasonable amount of sleep before the sun greets us."

“After you,” Daemon smirks and gestures for you to walk ahead.

You nod and give him a wide berth as you trot up behind Rhaenyra and Jacaerys, letting out a quiet sigh once the Prince Consort is a comfortable distance away. Jace quickly peeks at you from the corner of his eye but continues forward without a word.

You are led along winding passages and corridors, losing all sense of direction until you pass through a large doorway and enter the open air. The ground still wet from the torrential rain but the clouds finally receding over the sea. As you enter the overgrown remnants of Aegon's garden you hear a faint cry emanating from below.

Jace looks back at you and reaches for a torch off the column nearby. He uses the fire from the kingsguard's torch to ignite his own before stepping forward to take the lead.

"This way," he commands and treks into the weeds.

The cry grows louder and your pace quickens, passing Rhaenyra and the kingsguard. The Prince leads you to a collection of black stone dragons at the edge of the garden. He stops next to one whose wings have been lost to the elements and hands the torch to you. As the others approach, he uncovers a distressed wooden hatch from beneath the tangled vines and throws it open to reveal a narrow stairway carved into the stone below.

With the door wide open, the cries echo from inside and without a second thought, you sprint down into the void. Jace calls after you and a perplexed commotion erupts as you leave them behind but your only thought is on reaching Tempest as fast as your legs can carry you.

With the speed you descend the spiral staircase, the torch struggles to stay lit. Its wavering light scarcely enough to illuminate your feet, which causes you to crumple to the ground when the stairs come to an abrupt end. The torch is thrown from your hand during the fall and finally fizzles out, leaving you in darkness.

Your hands and knees ache as you stand to regain your bearings and a warmth slowly spreads down your shins. Although you have traveled this path from the bottom of the stairs to your camp often enough with Jace, you know that a journey in the dark will likely lead to further injuries. Another cry from Tempest rings out from within the vast cavern and you wince. Despite the agonizing need to reach her as quick as possible, you steel yourself with a breath and wait for the others to catch up.

Thankfully, they wasted little time in following after you and after only a couple quiet moments the passage behind you is filled with the gentle glow of torchlight. Daemon and Jacaerys emerge first followed closely by Rhaenyra and only one of the kingsguard. The other likely standing guard atop the spiral steps. Jace breaks from Daemon and approaches you as you turn to face them.

“Y/n!” He calls, noticing the blood beginning to seep through your trousers, “What happened?”

“I just lost my footing,” you admit sheepishly, reaching down to pick up the extinguished torch and handing it back to Jace.

He spies the abrasions across your palms and offers you the same discreet look of concern from the dragonmont. You quickly hide your hands behind your back as Daemon saunters up to the two of you. He eyes you suspiciously before glancing around the small chamber.

“How did you find this place?” He questions as Rhaenyra steps forward to join the three of you.

“Luke and I discovered this staircase while running through the garden,” Jace answers on your behalf, “I didn’t explore any further into the cave until I saw y/n and Tempest dive below the water near the cliffs just outside.”

Rhaenyra and Daemon look back to you with curiosity until a roar from Tempest brings their attention towards the dark path ahead. The Princess turns to the remaining kingsguard and orders him to stand guard at the base of the steps. Daemon’s gaze returns to you however, a spark of recognition alight in his eyes.

Jace ignites his torch once again and steps between Daemon and you.

“Shall we?” He says to you with a smile as he turns his back to his great uncle, gesturing for you to walk beside him.

Rhaenyra steps into line behind the two of you, once again leaving Daemon at the rear. Tempest’s deafening roars leave little room for conversation as you and your friend expertly guide your guests down the dark stone path. The torchlight glitters atop various pools along the path, revealing the vast expanse of catacombs and caverns below their home. After rounding a corner the path funnels into a narrow crevice, only wide enough for a single person at a time. Your dragon’s cries now shaking the walls with their volume.

You and Jace face each other and he nods once.

“Go on ahead, we’ll be right behind you,” he assures with a small smile.

You return the smile and charge forward through the passage calling Tempest’s name. Her cries come to a stop when she hears your voice and the moment you stumble into the large chamber, you are met with her massive snout which you fall on top of in a tearful embrace.

She gently lifts you away from the wall and sets you down beside your belongings, rumbling beneath your weight.

“You’re alright,” you run your hands across her scales, “we’re alright.”

You slide off her nose and wipe the tears from your eyes just as Jace emerges from the crack in the far wall. Tempest turns and chirps at the familiar face but moves quickly to investigate when Rhaenyra and Daemon enter. A low grumble emits from her chest as she looks over the two newcomers. You run to stand between them but Rhaenyra speaks before you reach the other side.

“Lykiri, Tempest, lykiri.” Her tone is soothing but you can see uncertainty in the Princess’s eyes. She extends a hand into the open air between them.

Tempest lets out a huff and takes a deep breath, watching the Princess carefully with her golden eyes. You run up to the side of her large head and offer a reassuring touch but she continues to stare down the pair.

“Easy,” you coo, “these are our friends.”

You eye Daemon as the last word leaves your mouth, who is too entranced to notice. Tempest inches closer to allow Rhaenyra’s hand to touch her nose. Jacaerys reaches out to places his hand over his mother’s and Tempest closes her eyes. She pulls away and moves to her resting place near your camp, seemingly content with her investigation.

“I thought you said she hatched eight years ago,” Daemon continues to watch Tempest as she perches near the water’s edge, “how is she this large?”

“I don’t know,” you answer honestly, following his gaze, “I didn’t know she was considered so until I came here and met Vermax.”

“It’s possible she grew quickly to adapt during your journey.” Jace offers, slightly defensive, “She has flown leagues farther than Vermax or Syrax for that matter.”

Rhaenyra turns to you and places a hand on your shoulder.

“She’s beautiful,” she says earnestly.

Her compliment takes you off guard.

“Thank you, Princess.” You reply, your heart swelling with pride.

“We are lucky to have the both of you in our service.”

Your face drops as you are reminded of the oath you will swear before the lords come sunrise. The Princess eyes you carefully and you breathe deeply before meeting her gaze.

“The honor is mine.” You say with a bow, filling your words with as much enthusiasm as you can muster.

Seeing the unease in your face as you bow, she moves her hand to hold your chin.

“You are to be a dragonrider of House Targaryen, a title we have not bestowed upon anyone outside our own family. But my son believes you are worthy of it.”

You break the Princess’s gaze to find Jace’s eyes at the mention of him, only to find them already trained on your face. You are only able to meet his eyes for a moment before Rhaenyra brings your attention back to her with a stroke of her thumb across your jaw.

“I hope one day to share his confidence.” She releases your face, allowing you stand upright and she continues, looking around your meager camp, “Regardless, you shall be shown the same hospitality as the other members of our staff.”

You nod, speaking with more confidence, “I am grateful for the opportunity to earn your trust.”

“Gather your things and lets away.” The Princess commands turning towards the pathway back to the surface with Daemon and Jacaerys in tow.

You are struck with a sudden sadness as you look back to Tempest and your belongings scattered around the only place you have called home for more than one night in over eight years.

“May I…” you call after Rhaenyra before she disappears through the narrow gap, “may I fly Tempest to the dragonmont? I cannot bear to leave her down here alone.”

“As you wish,” she grants, a surprising softness to her voice, “I shall send a kingsguard to meet you at the entrance.”

You smile with another small bow, sneaking one more glance in Jace’s direction before wading into the water. The salt stinging at the wounds on your knees and hands.

“Tempest,” you murmur and she leaps up to join you.

You swim to meet her in the deep pool and climb up to your perch behind her head.

“Until the morning,” you call over your shoulder at the trio upon the rocky shore, and they watch you and your dragon dive below the sea, leaving this cave together for the last time.

[munson-blurbs]

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries

Day 3 of TUI-Mas

Warnings: pregnancy, morning sickness/vomiting, food aversions, fatigue, some angst sprinkled in for ~flavor~

WC: 1.2k

Divider credit to @saradika

March 1999

Oatmeal: a delicious, nutritious breakfast food that has been a staple in your diet since you were a child. It hasn’t done anything wrong. 

Until now. 

The scents of brown sugar and cinnamon always perk you up in the morning; at least, as much as anything can without containing copious amounts of caffeine. Today; however, they waft past your nose and have you hurtling towards the bathroom. 

Eddie runs in from the bedroom, his jeans button still unfastened where he’d abandoned getting dressed for work. “S’okay,” he murmurs, rubbing your back as you empty the contents of your stomach into the toilet. Your cheeks blaze with the rush of blood to your face and the shame from being in such a vulnerable position. 

You spit the last of it into the bowl and grab a handful of toilet paper to wipe your lips, taking a moment to collect yourself before slowly standing up. Eddie places a warm washcloth in your palm; you hadn’t even heard the faucet running over the pounding in your ears.

“Thanks,” you mumble, pressing the damp cloth to your forehead and taking a deep, shaky breath. This isn’t your first bout of morning sickness–that happened about a week after you received your positive test result–and it likely won’t be the last. Still, you’re surprised at how quickly your husband has adapted to this relatively new routine. 

He kisses your scalp, nimble fingers fixing his pants button and buckling his belt. “Are you sure you wanna go to work today?” he asks, concern pinching his brows as he takes in your exhausted form.

You nod slowly, determined to stop the room from spinning. “I already took off twice last week.” 

“So?”

“So,” you explain with a sigh, “I don’t want to use up all of my sick days in the first trimester. Not when I’ll have more doctor appointments as I get farther along.” Not to mention the fact that people have started questioning your absences, and you’re not ready to tell anyone the reason just yet. “Besides, I woke up feeling okay; I didn’t throw up until I smelled the oatmeal.” Your insides lurch at the mere mention of the food, and you find yourself hovering over the bowl once more.

Eddie hums knowingly as he runs the washcloth under the water again and wrings it out with a twist of his hands. “Uh-huh. And what if one of your students happens to talk about oat–”

“Don’t say it!” you cut him off as forcefully as you can, fighting your buckling knees as you steady yourself. 

He relents, exasperatedly pivoting back to the bedroom to finish getting dressed. There’s little sense in arguing with you, especially with a nosy little boy eating breakfast in the kitchen not even twenty feet away. As far as Harris knew, you’d just been battling a stomach bug, and you and Eddie were both grateful that he hadn’t questioned it further. His response was telling you a…charming story about how his friend Charlie ate three bags of Hot Cheetos before promptly vomiting all over the cafeteria table; an anecdote that did nothing to quell your nausea.

You pull yourself together enough to make it to work. The queasiness subsides as the minutes tick on, though you take your lunch break in your car to avoid any smells in the faculty lounge that could inadvertently trigger another bout of sickness. You half-heartedly go through the motions of story time and arts and crafts, silently promising your students that you’ll have more enthusiasm once your second trimester begins.

By the time you arrive back home and trudge through the door, you may as well be dragging sandbags from your ankles. Exhaustion hits you without warning, your eyelids heavier with each passing second. You drop your keys on the side table and glance over at the clock hanging on the wall. The larger hand has barely ticked past the “6,” which means you have just under a half hour until you have to leave and pick up Harris from his after-school art program.

You don’t even make it to your bedroom, heaving your body onto the couch with a grunt; the stiff pillows have never been more comfortable. The last thought that crosses your fatigued mind is that you can’t sleep for long. If you lay down for a moment…set an alarm for fifteen minutes…

You’re awoken not of your own accord, but by the sound of the apartment door squeaking, the knob thwacking against the wall as though it’s being flung open.

“Thank God you’re okay.” It comes out in one breath, Eddie’s relief palpable as soon as he sees that you’re alive and breathing. 

Still groggy with sleep, you push yourself onto your elbows, squinting at the influx of light from the hallway. Why wouldn’t you be okay? You were just taking a nap; it’s only been…an hour and a half?

“Shit, shit, shit!” You scramble to your feet, not even cognizant of the fact that you’re swearing in front of Harris. You take in his tear-stained face, comprehending his thought process before he can even say it aloud. “Har, I’m so sorry. I swear, I didn’t forget about you. I’ve just been really sleepy–”

“Har, can you go to your room for a sec?” Eddie keeps his voice even and controlled, but you can still sense the frustration simmering beneath. He puts his hands on his son’s shoulders and gives a tense squeeze, and Harris nods and somberly obeys. 

Your misty eyes meet your husband’s gaze, his jaw steeled as you fumble to explain yourself. “Eddie, it was a total accident! I…I needed to rest…I didn’t think I’d sleep this long…” 

He shakes his head, arms dejectedly hanging by his sides. “I asked you not to go to work,” he says softly, teeth digging into his lower lip. “It’s not because I think you’re weak or incapable or anything like that. You just need to take care of yourself.” His voice drops to an even quieter whisper as he walks closer to you, caressing your cheek. “You’re growing our baby, Sweetheart. That’s a pretty big deal.”

“I know,” you murmur, tears leaking from your eyes. “I’m not good at slowing down.” You can usually push yourself to your limits with minimal consequences, but it seems like those days are behind you. 

Eddie tilts your chin so you’re looking directly at him. His expression isn’t as hard; a faint smirk of understanding graces his lips. “And I love how driven you are. But your mission for the next nine months—should you choose to accept it—is to incubate Baby Munson.”

“Incubate?” You wrinkle your nose as his phrasing. 

“Incubate,” he affirms with a kiss to your nose. “Now, why don’t you go check on Harris, and I’ll start dinner.” His hand rests on the small of your back. “I was just gonna roast some chicken breasts, if that works for you?” It’s a quick and easy dinner that you have once a week. 

But it looks like it might be off the menu for a bit; your eyes bulge and your palm flies to your mouth as soon as you imagine the varying textures of meat and skin. 

“On second thought,” Eddie mutters, plucking a Surfer Boy pamphlet from the kitchen drawer, “maybe we’ll do pizza tonight.”

--

[changetyre]

HE MADE ME FEEL DIRTY (DR3) Ⓢ Ⓦ

SUMMARY: Work has been hell for you ever since your breakup with your ex boyfriend. His fragile masculinity making him want to shout out to the world it was all your fault and no one should want to come close to you. (Daniel Ricciardo x Reader)

WARNINGS: STDs, toxic relationships, insecurities, cheating, terribly written soft smut. This one is also a little on the longer side ;) and also not proofread ;(

A/N: First time I write a longer story on here ;) lmk if you like it.

It all started when your boyfriend had slowly become more and more distant from you. You hadn't been dating that long but there was a moment everything changed and from then you couldn't even remember the last time you were even intimate with him, having to satisfy yourself with toys and your own hands for the past 2 months.

He came home one day furious and you didn't understand why but to be honest this was the most interaction you'd had with him in a while. He shoved past you, ignoring your questions before he started packing his clothes.

"What are you doing? What happened?!" You shouted for the umpteenth time.

"What happened is that I had to take a blood test at work today and it came back positive for an STD! This is all your fault!" He yelled.

It took you a second to truly comprehend what he'd said. You had been forced to take the blood test as well but yours came back clean so you knew that only meant one thing but why was he blaming you?

Several people found out. The gossip spread like wildfire in a team like that. But he had a plan, he was so embarrassed by his results and everyone found out that he started blaming you, amongst his friends he called you a whore, and he claimed you cheated on him and that was the reason he caught it, victimizing himself and placing the blame entirely on you.

Work was hell after that, people eyed you, judge you, and all of a sudden people treated you like you were highly contagious, avoiding you, even those who claimed to be your friends.

So when one day one of your co-workers, some would even claim the most important one, approached you and starts talking to you, you were completely startled and taken aback as was everyone else around you.

Daniel Ricciardo just a few days after his first day in office had opted for making conversation with you.

"I'm Daniel." He extended his hand out to you in the cafeteria. You looked down at his hand hesitating, you could feel everyone's gaze on you and it was like the whole building went silent as they witnessed the interaction.

"y/n." You took his hand. You had to admit it made you feel uncomfortable not because of him but because you'd been deprived of touch and attention for so long that it felt wrong.

"Do you mind if I sit with you?" He then asked as he grabbed some food for himself.

"Uhm, are you sure?" You were still hesitant. Why was he doing this? Surely he'd heard what everyone said about you.

But Daniel wasn't afraid of what people thought, he knew exactly what it felt like to have everyone treat you like the ugly duckling.

During your first interaction, you only gave short and quick replies to him not being used to the attention for so long but also not wanting him to ruin his own reputation by talking to you. To be fair you'd lost so much trust in people a part of you felt like it was all a joke.

But as days, turn to weeks and weeks turn to months and Daniel keeps talking to you every day you grow close, and it's only long after that you realize how real your friendship is.

Daniel never gives up talking to you, he hasn't admitted it to you yet but he finds you gorgeous, funny, and interesting.

You were eating lunch at the paddock one afternoon when your mind began spiraling once again and you finally built up the courage to ask Daniel what you'd been wanting to do since the first day he spoke to you. "Danny, why do you talk to me?"

"What?" Daniel was confused by your question.

"C, mon you're not blind, you can see you're the only person in this team who talks to me. And I know you've heard the rumors so why do you talk to me?" you set your fork down and looked at him waiting for an answer.

He set his cutlery down too. "I have heard the rumors." he began.

You looked down, embarrassment consuming you despite the fact that you knew your innocence.

"But I don't give a shit." he shrugged. "For all I care, it's all bullshit, and even if it wasn't I don't care. You're kind, compassionate, funny, gorgeous, and incredible and that's all that matters to me."

You didn't expect Daniel's reply and you felt overwhelmed. "I-" You were speechless.

"Listen I don't know what happened. But I'm ready to listen whenever you want to tell me." Daniel had reached over grabbing your hand across the table.

You weren't sure why but his words made you emotional. Someone was finally willing to listen after so long. You felt tears begin to prickle in your eyes.

"I'm sorry I have to go." You got up wiping your eye quickly before Daniel could notice before you practically ran way from him.

But Daniel noticed. He saw the way your words got caught in your throat and he saw the way you wiped the tears from your eyes but this only prompted him to seek you out more.

___

You stood under the shower letting the water fall over you. You were stuck in your thoughts about what Daniel had said this afternoon. No one had spoken to you like that in a long time and you'd almost forgotten what it felt like to have someone care.

You were snapped out of your thoughts when you heard knocking at your hotel room door. You shut off the water listening out, maybe the knocking wasn't on your door. But then there it was again, louder and more persistent.

You stepped out of the shower and quickly wrapped a towel around yourself. You walked to your hotel door and opened it slightly peaking your head around.

"Daniel?" You weren't exactly sure why you were surprised to see him, it wasn't unusual for him to come visit you at your hotel room or vice versa but given your last conversation you thought he might want to avoid you for a while.

He looked like he had something on his mind and this was confirmed when he opened the door wide pushing past you.

"Look y/n I'm sorry if I said something that I shouldn't have before and I know I said that I would give you time to tell me your story whenever you felt ready but..."

Daniel stopped himself once he saw you hugging your chest trying to cover yourself up as much as you could.

"Oh..." you didn't miss the way his eyes scanned your body. "I'm sorry I didn't know-" He turned around facing away from you.

Although you knew he did it out of respect you weren't able to push away the thought that he turned away out of repulsion. You rushed into the bathroom and pulled on a bathrobe around your body.

"Daniel, what are you doing here?" You finally spoke signaling for him that he could turn around.

He turned around and you saw his eyes scan your body once more, you almost thought you could see a look of disappointment in his eyes which only made you more conscious. Was he expecting you to be fully dressed?

"I didn't mean to push earlier." he spoke finally looking into your eyes. "But I care about you and I've tried to be patient but I can't hide it anymore-" he took a pause.

Nerves filled your stomach. Nothing positive realistically came to mind. "It's okay- I understand you wanna get away from me..." you began, your voice shaky

"Wait what?" Daniel asked confused.

"You stuck with me longer than most people do, but I get it he talked to you, you believed him, and I don't blame you because-" You avoided his eyes

"Hey hey stop what are you talking about-" Daniel walked closer and grabbed your face between his hands gently. "Why would you think that." He wiped his thumbs under your eyes making you realize you had started crying.

"He talked to you? He told you I cheated? Told you I gave him an STD and I'm a who-"

"Shhh." He interrupted you before you could finish. "stop that." Daniel pulled you into his chest. "Don't say that, whatever he said I don't care for it, I only care for you." He reassured you. He held you tightly but once you realized you were only in your bathrobe you started feeling self-conscious once more.

It only sunk in now, coming to realize how being treated dirty for so long has made you feel dirty in your head, you’re scared of people touching you, Daniel touching you despite knowing you never did anything wrong in the first place. Your ex, he made you feel dirty.

You pull away and Daniel notices the sudden shift in your attitude, the way you pull your robe a little closer to yourself, almost as if you were trying to hide in it.

"Why do you do that?" This time Daniel decided not to keep quiet.

"Do what?" You weren't actually sure what he meant.

"Why do you hide from me?" He asked again.

Your eyes snapped up to his, not having been confronted about this ever. "I don't know what-"

"Don't do that." Daniel said sternly but not aggressively.

You just stared at him, you could tell he wasn't going to let this know, he'd come here with a mission and you had a strong feeling it had to do with making you open up.

"I feel disgusting." Your voice broke. "He made me feel so dirty, and gross and people have avoided me so much, they've avoided touching me for so long that it doesn't feel okay anymore, like....like I'm not allowed to be touched anymore," you revealed.

Daniel wondered if you could hear his heart shatter in his chest if you could see the way his chest tightened at hearing your words. The mix of anger and hurt about what someone had done to you, someone so beautiful and pure as you. He wanted nothing but to wrap you in his arms and whisper sweet words to you until he could make you see the woman he saw.

"Let me touch you," Daniel whispered, softly as if not trying to scare you away.

As much as your body screamed to be touched by him you couldn't shake off the discomfort your mind caused. "Daniel I-"

"Please." He pleaded, stepping closer but not reaching out to you yet. "Please let me show you how wrong you are, let me be the one to help you put back what he broke and make you art with my hands."

You just looked at him again, his words were enough to cause all sorts of emotions to flutter in you. And despite your mind telling you to run your heart and body fought harder, giving him a small nod.

Daniel walked closer reaching out to scoop your face in his hands once again. He didn't miss the way your breath hitched and your eyebrows furrowed slightly at the contact.

He was so gentle, stroking your cheeks before his other hands slowly made their way around you pulling you closer to him by your waist.

Your face was so close to his, the closest it had been to another person in what felt like forever it half excited you and half scared you.

"You're so beautiful," Daniel whispered to you before he closed the gap between the both of you planting his lips on yours.

You let out a moan as soon as he began moving his lips, it almost embarrassed you and you would've pulled away if it wasn't for Daniel's hand sliding to the back of your neck and pulling you closer.

For Daniel, it was hard, not because of anything you imagined but because he had been so desperate for this for so long, wanting nothing but to be able to feel you, to taste you and it was almost embarrassing for him how quickly he got turned on by that simple moan that it became evident in his pants.

He began planting kisses across your jaw and down your neck. "Look at what you do to me," He whispered.

You looked down and saw what he was talking about and the smirk that appeared on your lips made you realize the boost of confidence this gave you.

This was enough for you to feel okay with reaching out to Daniel, intertwining your fingers in his curls, and gripping his shirt to pull him closer to you.

"Please make me feel good." You pulled Daniel back up to face you and your words not only took him by surprise but you too.

Daniel wasted no time scooping you in his arms as he walked further into your hotel room and placed you in the center of the bed.

In a quick motion, he removed his shirt chucking it across the room. Your mouth watered at the sight of Daniel's sculpted body that you couldn't help but reach out to feel his body with your own fingers, tracing the squares down his body.

Daniel let out of grown that made the space between your legs tingle. "Don't be such a tease." he leaned down to continue his trail of kisses down your neck.

You giggled but it was soon replaced by a big sigh as Daniel's finger slipped under the collar of the robe pushing it to the side as he began kissing down your collarbone and further and further down.

He got up once again to remove his pants which had now become painfully tight around his legs leaving only his boxers.

"Here." He went to undo the knot that held the robe together but not before looking into your eyes for approval.

Once again your mind tried talking you out of it but you had never felt so sure of anything in your life and you knew you'd be okay, he'd take care of you so once again you gave him a nod of approval.

Daniel pulled the lace that held the robe together and undid it. He then pushed the two sides of the robe apart presenting you completely bare to him. Daniel didn't stop until the robe was completely off you and it joined the rest of his clothes on the ground.

Your arms and hands instinctively went across your body trying to cover yourself.

"Don't hide." Daniel reminded you gently prying your hands off yourself and gently pining them beside you by intertwining his fingers with yours and keeping them in place down on the bed.

He didn't give your mind time to wonder much longer as he continued his mission of kissing your entire body occasionally licking stripes on the way down that had your mind in a haze.

"You ready?" Daniel asked.

And you looked up to realize he was now in between your legs. Once again nodding Daniel continued.

He licked a stripe across your folds which made your chest rise.

"Daniel please-" You begged feeling no shame this time at the desperation in your voice.

"shh, I'll take care of you." he whispered causing his breath to hit your now most sensitive area. Goosebumps filled your entire body.

But he did, he laid another lick along your folds before diving deeper, sucking on your bud for a few seconds before licking it in all sort of directions.

You were a moaning mess above him, squeezing his hands tightly which were still intertwined with yours. You felt Daniel release on of your hands before you felt it grab one of your breasts and he began to flick your nipple with caused an overwhelming sensation across your body.

"Dan....I...I can'-t" you physically couldn't form a sentence, your entire body was consumed in pleasure.

"Yes, you can baby just let go." Daniel could feel the way your pussy twitched on his lips and he knew you were close.

"Oh my...I'm gonna-" You weren't even able to finish before you had let out a guttural moan, your back arching off the bed as your legs shivered from the first orgasm you'd had in way too long, you were sure not even your ex had ever given you an orgasm like this one in your entire relationship.

Once you were coming down from your high Daniel was already above you and in front of you placing soft kisses on your cheek and jaw. "You okay?" He asked with so much care in his voice.

You laughed. You knew you must have looked dazed but the adoration in his eyes was hard to miss which caused you to blush. "Yeah. More than okay." You admitted.

Daniel laid beside you but his body was still turned to yours.

"I want more." you realized Daniel was willing to submit his own pleasure just so you would feel comfortable, so you wouldn't feel pushed but your body ached to feel more of him.

"You don't have to, we can take it slow." Daniel stroked your hair back reassuring you.

"No Daniel, please." You leaned closer to him, your legs crossing with his and you could feel his hard member against your leg. "Please fuck me," you whispered against his lips.

Daniel thought he couldn't get turned on even more but after hearing your words he couldn't hold back anymore. He brought you closer into a deep sloppy kiss, tongues fighting for dominance.

He angled your leg up and over his waist, as he slotted himself between you, he lined himself up with you and luckily you were wet enough that he knew you didn't need lube.

But as soon as you felt his tip close to you those insecurities rose again. "Daniel you don't have a condom." You pointed out, you didn't actually need him to wear one but you wanted to make sure he realized what he was doing.

"I trust you." He looked straight into your eyes as he said so. "But if you want me to put one on I can.

It was hard to believe someone could be so kind to you, it was hard to believe someone could care so much about what you thought after being treated the opposite for so long. You shook your head.

You nodded once again for the night. "Keep going." You voiced.

Daniel brought you into a kiss again before pushing in trying to distract your mind from the sting you would feel. He was slow making sure your walls adjusted to him inch by inch listening to your moans as indications to keep going until he was fully in you.

He waited for your signal to move.

"Fuck me, Daniel." You sighed against his chest.

He began thrusting slowly, hearing your sighs of pleasure, watching and feeling the way you scratched his back and chest in pleasure.

"You like that baby?" He knew you did, he could hear and feel you did but he still wanted to hear it straight from you.

"Yeah." You moaned. "Please faster." you begged.

Daniel propped himself up on his arm before slowly turning you around so he was over you, making sure not to pull out at any point. Once you were on your back he leaned his arms on either side of your head and began thrusting into you deeper and faster.

"Oh, sh*t." You cursed as the pleasure only intensified.

"Ah, baby I'm gonna cum." Daniel moaned, the new angle proving too much for him.

"Me too." You confessed. "Sh*t."

Daniel tried to hold on until you finished so that he could continue and luckily he was able to.

"I'm cumming!" You announced and he could see the way your body shivered under him, feeling you clench around him which was making it almost impossible for him to hold on, after he could tell your orgasm was done he pulled out.

He was ready to cum on your stomach but was completely taken aback when you quickly sat up pulling him closer and into your mouth.

As soon as your lips touched his dick he came inside your mouth, grunting at each spurt that pulsed out of his member watching you take all of it in your mouth.

"Fuck that's hot." He groaned at the last drips that came out of him, watching you lick his tip clean before swallowing.

"Yum." You licked your lips clean with a smile on your face.

"Fuck I love you," Daniel spoke before collapsing beside you.

"What?" You propped yourself up on your elbows to face him.

"What?" Daniel was confused.

"What did you say?" your heart was beating fast again and it wasn't just because of the amazing sex you'd just had.

"Oh." Daniel's eyes widened realizing the words that had come out of his mouth. "Oh, sh*t that wasn't supposed to happen like that."

"Wait, do you mean it?" You sat up this time.

Daniel joined you sitting up and leaning against the headboard. Daniel couldn't help but smile at your incredulity of his words despite everything you'd just done. He pulled you onto his lap.

"Of course I mean it. I love you and I've been trying to find a way to tell you for a while now." He confessed. "And this wasn't the way I planned it, it was definitely more romantic." he laughed.

You were in disbelief, overwhelmed by all the emotions that flooded your mind and body. You couldn't find the words to reply to Daniel, to let him know the way he made you feel so you simply leaned forward and kissed him. It wasn't sloppy, it wasn't deep but it was soft and slow as if you were communicating everything to him through it.

You pulled away needing to breathe. "I love you." you finally whispered back. "I love you so much." You watched the way his lips curled into a smile.

"Thank you for trusting me." He hugged you into his chest.

"Thank you for believing me." You thanked him back finding warmth and safety against his chest.

Yes, despite the fact that you finally felt loved again, you once again felt comfortable within yourself you knew one thing. You wanted no one else in the world to touch you or to look at you this way again except for Daniel.

[atomoxxetine]

"Pernicious Present" Pt.1

Feyd Rautha x Suk Doctor! Reader

Summary: The greatest gift from Emperor Shaddam to House Harkonnen is a ticking time bomb wrapped neatly in a ribbon. Warning: Death, Blood, Torture part 2 (I've never read Dune. This is written based purely on the movie and a quick search.) "What a dull knife," you comment. Feyd has just slashed through his servants moments ago. "Since when did I allow you to speak?" The Na-Baron growls as he sharply turns to face your display of intrusive thoughts. It would be a death wish to anger him right after he had exhibited his rage. But to you, it is just another move in your scheme.

You know that Feyd doesn't have the power to kill you, not yet. All the tears you had wept and sweat you had shed through the Suk School were not wasted. The position: Baron Vladimir Harkonnen's personal Suk Doctor is what keeps your head on your shoulders. Reminiscing, the road to this status has been nothing like a flowery path. The school was hellish, and the exam was arduous, but nothing came close to gaining the Baron's trust.

Since you were sent to Giedi Prime as a gift from the Imperial, Baron Harkonnen had suspected you greatly. His Highness has started to view you in a better light when you dedicated yourself to cease the epidemic in Geidi Prime. There was a terrible spread of the black plague, stemming from rotten corpses to grass to trees to livestock. All had come to a stop because of your findings. Burning the dead with flame has been a custom ever since. It was clear that you possessed the qualities of intelligence, diligence, and efficiency. But what remained in the dark was your trustworthiness. So, he put you to the test by making you screen his food to detect any trace of malice, hoping your true nature would be revealed. The first few feasts were fine, intended to lower your guard. He then made Feyd bring out Safran Şerbeti. The cordial was undoubtedly spiked with venom as instructed by the Baron. The Baron suggested that you could waive the inspection of the gift brought by his nephew, as he wished to avoid straining the connection by revealing any distrust. But just from the sniff, you could tell that the drink was laced. You whispered to the Baron, 'Please do not take this drink, my lord.' Lord Harkonnen chuckled loudly. He beamed, 'Are you suspecting my heir? You must be out of your mind.' The Na-Baron added, 'Is this one of your dog's little tricks, uncle?' Feyd quirked to the Baron. 'Do you want to savor my uncle's exquisite food that much?' Feyd mocked with a baby voice. 'Don't touch that goblet, I beg of you,' you pleaded, ignoring Feyd's scoffing. The Baron shrugged you off, stretching his hand to fetch the golden liquid. You frantically snatched the chalice. 'Ha! Even your tail is wagging! This dog really wants to have a taste!' Feyd rubbed the salt to your wound. 'You left me no choice, my lord,' you surrendered. 'I will prove it to you that the lovely nephew of yours meant to take your life.' You drowned the whole goblet in one go. Consciousness left your body as the grail rolled on the floor. The world of black and white turned to a muddy grey. The Baron clapped, impressed by your devotion. You cleared all the rightful skepticism by putting your life before his and saving him. Once the Baron's trust was secured, your plan began.

[pickingupmymercedes]

Show me you care - Lewis Hamilton (NSFW)

SMUT - NSFW

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

warnings: unprotected sexual activities (p in v), brat Lewis

Also, wrap it before you tap it

wordcount: <1k

a/n: So, an anon send an ask to @a-moment-captured and it gave me ideas. I didn't really write Lewis as classic anger-ish pissed off, but as closed-off/ brat-ish frustated, hope that's okay. It's also a short one.

Wrote it in one go, so not really proofread

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

EXPLICIT CONTENT UNDER, -18 DO NOT INTERACT.

______________________________________________________________

Their laughs in the background irked you at all the wrong places, the banter, the photos, online comments they kept checking and laughing at made your blood boil. The whole weekend was frustrating, and sure they were trying to make the air less dense for everyone’s sake, but still, how unbothered the three of them acted was annoying to you.

“Hm… would you guys mind going to that food stall by the hospitality to get me a bowl of something? I could really use some food to get through this thing.” Your voice almost cracking mid-way through, eyes barely looking up from the computer as you reviewed the debrief that would make its way to the amg board back in Germany, your writing relaying how bad the weekend had gone, again.

“Sure… the usual?” Daniel asked already halfway through the door with a chatty Miles attached to him as you nodded and mouthed a thank you, looking back to the screen right after.

“Just write double dnf” Lewis’ voice full of sarcasm echoed in the dark and empty rooms of the almost empty garage.

“Okay, I’m done with the bullshit remarks. That’s not you… not anymore.” You closed the notebook in your laps, annoyance clear in your voice as you approached him seated at the sofa.

“What?!” A testing tone to his voice, he knew what you were talking about and it was almost as if he wanted you to bring it up. You sighted exasperatingly as you reach for his hand.

“Show me you care, Lewis.” Your eyes burned into his, daring him to avoid your demand, to show how the situation truly affected him.

“You don’t want that, love” His pupils got more dilated by the second, his breath hitching in his throat.

“I’m asking you to, show me how much you want this, because I know you do”

He flipped you around in a swift move, his breath now on your neck as one of his hands found their way to your throat while the other pulled you into his chest, his lips finding their way around the uncovered parts of your shoulders.

“I need this last win as much as I need to have you, right now”

The hoarse of his voice while his fingers fiddled with the bottom of your pants made the room grow muffed around you both, his lips leaving ghost like touches after they had left that spot. His heavy breathing mesmerizing as he found his way around your and his pants.

His hand circling around your panties until he put them to the side, his finger on your clit and entrance, your spine curving back almost on its own to feel his radiating warmth.

“You’re always so wet, so needy” He didn’t give you any warning when his dick first stretched you – or maybe he did but you didn’t really listen, too lost in his smell and the feel of his body, only really realizing he had you bent over when you felt the fabric under your stretched arms.

His member reaching painfully slow inside you as he kept going in until he bottomed. Your walls itched for any sort of movement but he kept a tight hold of your hips as you collapsed forwards to the sofa, his hands holding you by the waist as his face contorted in pleasure.

When he finally moved his pace was relentless, each thrust went deep enough to hit your cervix, each time you failed to suppress the moan that left your mouth. Your mind a delicious blank as the only thing that computed was how good he felt around your walls and that his grips on your waist was sure to leave marks.

It wasn’t long before his rhythm faltered, his knees almost buckling as his orgasm hit, holding up just enough to circle your clit for a few moments until you too exploded. Your vision going blank for a while, the only feeling was of his arms holding your back to his chest as his throat left a guttural moan when he pulled out from you.

“Don’t hide from me. I know you care” Your arms reached to his face when you turned into his embrace, his eyes softer now but with a tinge of hurt. His lips went to your forehead, a softness in how he held and moved in striking contrast to his grasp just a few minutes before, his arms engulfing you into his arms in the small sofa of the room.

His friends’ laughter got closer by the second until the lock on the door tried to turn while you and Lewis amusedly heard them call out for you two.

“Shh, let them wonder where we’re at.” He whispered by your head, kissing your head just as his arms held you down.

______________________________________________________________

TAGLIST - @saturnssunflower @xoscar03 @chocolatediplomatdreamerzonk

If you’d like to be added to my taglist you can leave a comment or send me a dm/ask.

[niki-phoria]

‧₊˚✩ chishiya, arisu, and kuina's habits they get from dating you

warnings: ooc chishiya, mentions of blood, not exactly canon divergent but i kinda expanded on canon (??), kuina's mom being sick

a/n: most of these probably should've been full fics but i want to write more reactions so here we are

gn reader (no pronouns used)

requests open !! read my rules first

‧₊˚✩ chishiya

word count 411 jack of hearts chishiya >>>

playing with your hands

you pull the chair back, sliding into the seat next to chishiya. he’s sure to sit between you and niragi, leaning back in the seat. arisu stands awkwardly at the edge of the room. his gaze remains focused on the only person he’s seen before - chishiya. 

chishiya raises his hand, waving at him similarly to the way he did in ‘tag.’ ann, mira, and kuzuryu sit on the other side of the table. aguni shifts across from kuzuryu, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms over his chest. finally, hatter stands at the head of the table. he dramatically raises his arms.

“welcome beach executives,” he bellows before glancing over at arisu. “and potential executive.” he sighs, pushing his hair back and sitting down in the chair. “we are here to debate whether or not a new executive should be instated.” 

next to you, chishiya subtly pulls his left hand from his pocket, reaching over to grab yours. it’s not an uncommon reaction, especially since you’ve become more comfortable in your relationship. he almost does it unconsciously as he casually intertwines your fingers together before stuffing your hands back into his pocket. 

the meeting drones on around you. their voices all blend together as you impatiently wait for the meeting to conclude. after a few minutes of arguing, hatter stands once again. “it’s decided. arisu will be tested, and if he passes, the beach will gain a new executive. this meeting is concluded.” he walks to the door before glancing over his shoulder. “arisu, i’d like to speak to you more. do join me.”  

you ignore arisu’s nervous look as you follow chishiya out of the room. both of you slip through the various different passageways further into the beach. he leads you to his makeshift workshop, only letting go of your hand to begin working on yet another kerosene bomb. 

you lean back against the table as you watch him tinker away. once complete, he slowly feeds the mess of wires into the metal soda can. he passes it to you, hands holding yours for a second longer than necessary. you smile, setting it aside on the table. “you always do that.” 

chishiya raises an eyebrow. “do what?” 

“hold my hand.” he doesn’t react, instead looking away as he glances for another can. but the light flush on his ears is enough confirmation for you. he’s always searching for you, even when you’re standing right next to him. 

always thinking of you

word count 456

the rest of the players crowd around into groups, forming little cliques. they nervously glance around at the other players when they aren’t taking turns turning around and exposing their symbol, relying on the trust of the group to be truthful. 

you observe them from your place at a table in the cafeteria, silently watching. this is nothing new for chishiya - picking up on the little details about people is how he’s been able to survive in the borderland for so long. but as the games become increasingly difficult and your situation becomes more dire, you find yourself replicating his mannerisms. 

chishiya glances over his shoulder at you momentarily before refocusing on the wall of snacks before him. it’s all junk food, but junk is better than nothing. you probably won’t be able to eat much while trying to complete the rest of the games and avoiding the king of spades, he reasons. 

a woman stands at the edge of the shelves, watching him. he reaches out to grab a packet of cookies, opening the bag and taking a bite of one. he glances over at her before nonchalantly raising the packet. “you should try them,” he says. “they’re the best ones.” the woman doesn’t respond. instead, she simply slips back behind the shelf to where her group is. 

despite chishiya’s insistence about his personal choice being the best cookies, he pauses when something catches his eye. this bag is a deep blue. it’s wrapped in plastic instead of the paper he holds against his chest. they’re vanilla. from the look alone he can tell that he won’t enjoy the artificial sweetness, but something makes him take a packet before he goes to find you. they’re your favorite. 

chishiya silently sits down next to you, placing his packet of cookies on the seat beside him. you subtly move closer so your shoulders brush, leaning over to see what he picked. “i didn’t take you for the cookie type.” 

“it’s good to know i can still surprise you, then.” his initial hesitance of which snack to choose immediately disappears as your face lights up when he slides the blue packet to you. 

“i didn’t know they had these!” chishiya is unable to fully suppress his smile, allowing his lips to curl upwards slightly. “thank you.” 

“i thought you would like them.” 

“you know me so well,” you hum, opening the packet before holding out one for him. “want one?” 

chishiya was right when he thought that he wouldn’t enjoy the artificial taste of the vanilla. but when you smile up at him, happily eating another, he realizes he’d be content to eat overly sweet cookies for the rest of his life - as long as it’s with you.

‧₊˚✩ arisu

constantly talking about you (pre-borderland au)

word count 425

“hey, check this out!” chota takes a packet of ramen from the shelf, holding it up. arisu squints, stepping forwards to read the words. the packaging is pink, decorated with a picture of the noodles and… strawberry? 

karube reaches out to grab it, reading the words. “strawberry shortcake ramen?” he reads, raising an eyebrow at chota. “seriously?” 

“why not?” chota shrugs, returning to look through the various options. 

“sure, man,” karube chuckles. “whatever you want.” 

arisu smiles, shaking his head. he picks out a bowl of instant ramen, tucking it in between his arm and holding it against his chest to cook later. from the corner of his eye, a different packet catches his eye. it’s spicy - spicier than he would normally eat. but it’s perfect for you. he doesn’t realize the small smile unconsciously spreading across his face as he imagines the scene. 

going home to you after a day spent with chota and karube, pulling out the noodles, dancing around the kitchen together as you let them overcook on the stove, you teasing him as he tries to eat them and then has to desperately drink milk to soothe his burning mouth. 

he’s brought back to reality when karube places a hand on his shoulder. he leans in with a raised eyebrow, kneeling down to be eye level with him. “are you crazy?” he teases, gesturing to the packet in arisu’s hand. “we all know you can’t eat that.” 

“y/n will like it,” he says. he doesn’t notice the shared glance between chota and karube. 

“wow, man, you’re whipped.” chota comments. 

“seriously, i didn’t think it would get worse than that time he left in the middle of a match because y/n wanted to cuddle,” karube laughs. 

arisu purses his lips, unable to deny their teasing. he knows he’s whipped, or a simp, or a dumb lovestruck fool, or whatever else people want to call him - but he doesn’t care. going home to you, kissing under your kitchen lights, falling asleep to a bad sitcom wrapped in your arms, it’s all worth it. 

so instead of denying it or putting the ramen back, he lets them joke as he follows them to the register. he pays extra for the second packet before rejoining karube and chota by the window of the convenience store. “hey,” karube leans over to pat his shoulder. “in all seriousness, we’re glad you found someone like y/n. we’re proud of you.”

arisu smiles, refocusing on the bowl of instant ramen in front of him. “thank you.” 

trusts you with his life

word count 701 got a little carried away whoops

usagi’s hand stays firmly on the boy’s shoulder, subtly standing in front of him. “don’t worry,” she whispers when she kneels down next to him. “i’ll protect you.” he nods a little before she stands up. 

“we need to go,” you whisper. arisu nods, grabbing your hand as you follow usagi through the structure and up the stairs. other players chasing each other echo along the metal. arisu’s grip on your hand remains tight. he’s nervous- you can tell. he glances at you every now and then, pulling you through the different structures.

“queen’s turn ends. player’s turn begins.” the announcement chimes. you pant, leaning back against the metal. arisu never lets go of your hand, leaning down on his knees to catch his breath. 

“we need to find the other players,” usagi says. “if we can convince them to help us then we can win this.” you nod, squeezing arisu’s hand. “let’s split up. we’ll find more people that way.” 

“meet back here at every round.” arisu says. you note the area, before forcing yourself up, running off in search of the other players. 

arisu curses as you follow him up the winding metal structures. it’s a dead end.you look down over the edge, and then over his shoulder. a chain hangs down from somewhere above. “you need to grab onto that chain,” you point. arisu looks at what you’re pointing at before looking back at you. 

“are you crazy?” 

“look, there’s nowhere else to go!” he seems unconvinced, looking down at the ground below. you reach over to hold his face in your hands, turning him to face you. “do you trust me?” 

arisu nods immediately. “of course i do.” 

“then i need you to grab onto the chain and swing. i’ll catch you, i promise.” he glances back at the chain before nodding. 

“okay.” 

the queen catches up to you seconds later, smirking as she pants. “looks like your luck has finally run out.” you push arisu behind you, standing between them. 

“i wouldn’t call it luck.” she narrows her eyes at you, stepping closer. “arisu, now!” 

he jumps off of the edge of the structure, grabbing onto the chain. you push the queen away, putting distance between yourself and her. you grab arisu when he swings back, helping him down from the chain as you begin running again. 

once you’re sure you’ve lost the queen in the maze of her game, you give yourself a few minutes to relax. arisu leans back against the wall, panting. “thank you,” he whispers. you reach over to grab his hand, nodding.

you lean back against the metal railing for support. “this is the final round for the players,” the announcement chimes. “after this round, the game will end.” a man wearing a bike helmet nods at you before running off towards the left. you take his cue to go right, running  to the area where you agreed to meet up with arisu and usagi, finding them already there. usagi pats your shoulder as you lean up to look up at arisu. 

“there’s only two more players on the queen’s team,” she pants. “we can do this.” you nod, running through in search of any other players. you press the button on a man’s back, sending him to the ground from the shock. “sorry,” you whisper, kneeling down next to him to make sure he’s okay. you lean over the edge of the structure again, reading the scoreboard. 19 players vs. 01 queen. you let out a relieved sigh, making your way over to the area where you first entered the game. 

a few other players are already there, standing around and watching the time tick down. the boy rushes over to your side, standing next to you. you place a hand on his shoulder, watching the timer. “it’ll be okay,” you whisper. he nods, eyes glued to the screen. 

arisu rushes over to your side, quickly followed by usagi. he immediately pulls you into a quick hug. you wrap your arms around his shoulders, keeping him close to you. “y/n,” he sighs. “i’m glad you’re okay.” 

“me too,” you pant. he presses a quick kiss against your temple. 

‧₊˚✩ kuina

doing everything for two

kuina sets the pot over the makeshift stove she created, using the fire to heat the water. a box of noodles sits beside her as she waits for it to boil. the store is almost eerily quiet, the flickering overhead lights being the only other source of noise. 

word count 532 there are literally NO kuina gifs and it makes me so sad ://

she pulls her knees up to her chest as she waits. when the water becomes uninteresting, she finds herself staring at the picture she took from the wall of her mother’s hospital room. she remembers that day clearly, valuing it as one of the most important moments of her life. she was younger when her mother had first been diagnosed. she nervously clutched the straps of her bag as the nurse guided her to the room, leaving them alone in the room. she remembers how her mother had gasped, eyes welling with tears before she wrapped her into a hug for the first time in years, whispering about how she was a beautiful young woman. 

kuina remembers calling you in her car immediately afterwards, happy tears rolling down her cheeks. she remembers the excitement in your voice as she told you the good news and the taste of the noodles you surprised her with when she arrived home. that was the night she fell in love with you. 

she sighs, refocusing on the pot of water. it’s boiling now. she slowly pours the noodles in, stirring them around with a pair of wooden chopsticks she found in the hospital’s cafeteria. it’s only once they finish cooking and she fishes them out of the pot that she realizes she has too much food just for herself. she made enough for two. enough for you.

she curses the tears that build in her eyes. the hope of you being alive fades with each day, let alone being able to find you. a noise at the doors of the store startles her. her body stiffens, anxiously peeking behind a shelf to see who’s there. 

the breath escapes her lungs when she does. bloodied, dirty, and standing on shaky knees, you stand there. you lean against the wall to catch your breath. kuina clambers to her feet, rushing over to you. “y/n?” 

your eyes blink open at the mention of your name. your voice is breathless when you speak. “kuina?” 

she runs to you, wrapping you into a hug. you’re quick to reciprocate, hiding your face into her shoulder. “i was so worried about you,” she whispers, pulling away enough to brush the hair out of your face. “how did you find me?” 

“i figured you would go to the hospital. when you weren’t there, i thought i would check the grocery store next.” kuina doesn’t notice the tears rolling down her cheeks until your hand brushes one away. “don’t cry, baby, i’m here.” 

she smiles through the tears, nodding. “are you hurt?” 

you shake your head. “i’m alright.” 

kuina traces her hand along your jawline. she can’t wait any longer, pressing her lips against yours in a sweet kiss. you smile when she pulls away. “i made food. it’s your favorite.” 

you press another peck against her lips, pulling her a little closer again. “thank you.”

always touching you

“hi,” you smile, lowering your head into a quick bow. they’re quick to reciprocate. “i’m l/n y/n.” 

word count 527

“y/n,” kuina smiles, reaching out to grab your hand as you sit down beside her. there are two people sitting on the beach chair across from her. you recognize them as being the beach’s newest recruits. 

“usagi yazuha,” the woman smiles. her hair is short, cut into a chin length bob. her forehead bangs frame her face nicely. she’s wearing a peach jacket and black biker shorts. 

“arisu ryoehi.” his hair is longer than hers. he’s wearing a white t-shirt and blue swim trunks. they both look uncomfortable surrounded by the frenzy of drunk beach members. 

“don’t worry,” kuina chuckles. “we don’t bite. there are drinks pretty much everywhere, and drugs, if you’re into that.” 

“which games have you played?” you ask. 

they detail how they first met during tag before meeting up again in a club game. kuina grows even closer to you through the course of the night as you laugh and joke around with your newfound friends. her arm interlinks with yours, body leaning into your side. 

in the mix of shared drinks and laughter, she eventually ends up on your lap. you wrap your arm around her waist, both to hold her up as she leans against you and to keep her warm. you’re all too familiar of how cold the beach gets during the night, especially when your girlfriend is only wearing a bikini. 

the night continues on, party raging around you. usagi had decided to find a room in the hotel once the ocean breeze became less of a slight annoyance and more of an unrelenting wind. the night continues to blur as kuina and arisu continue drinking and joking around together. 

“you two are cute together,” arisu’s words slur together as he smiles at you. kuina reciprocates, taking another small sip of her beer. 

“so are you two,” she smiles. 

“ah, we’re not dating,” he sighs. 

“really?” she cocks her head at him. “you should ask her out. she totally likes you!” 

arisu nods to himself, contemplating. “maybe i will.” 

“babe,” you whisper, running your hand against her side. “it’s getting late. we should head to bed.” 

“you’re right,” she hums, finishing off the rest of her beer. 

“i should probably get some sleep too.” arisu nods. 

“the rooms are all unlocked. just pick one that’s empty. we don’t really keep track of room numbers or anything.” kuina wraps her arm around your shoulder, leaning into your chest. 

“thanks,” arisu smiles. “it was nice meeting you guys.” 

“you too!” kuina clings to you as you lift her body, carrying her away from the pool and into your shared room. you use your elbow to open the door before setting her body down on the bed. you set a bottle of water on the table beside her and prepare a trash can just in case before sliding underneath the covers beside her. “i love you,” she smiles, moving to lay on your chest. you pull the blanket up over her body, rubbing your hand against her back. 

“i love you too.”