#hes a blue splatter on the floor
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(florida man voice) yoink!
#charlieâs art#i just think. that. tristamp knives wouldnât have stood a chance against trimax lr#do you get it. do you see my vision. itâs hilarious#gym bros when a real bear walks in:#big buff guy jumpscared by even bigger more buff guy#heâd last three seconds before getting tossed around like the jake gyllenhaal with a ferret gif#trigun stampede#trigun maximum#livio the double fang#razlo the tri punisher of death#millions knives#nai#razlo calls him one (1) petname disguised as a diminuative insult and hes gone#hes a blue splatter on the floor#i was so excited about writing my tags that i forgot to include#klr#knivio#razknives#iâm also starting to enjoy tripknives
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some people put charms around their house like the cross to ward away evil spirits⊠do you think pikero hangs bargain jeans to keep tuxam away but it only works for a little while until tuxam has gathered the courage to clean up
#Hangyon - âHi~ Hi~ An auspicious fairy has arrived⊠Here to grant those who see it luck!"#(Pikero who quietly hangs bargain jeans)#(I donât know where⊠The castle walls? His room?) (Wherever it is the place is ridiculously covered with jeans⊠Too many jeansâŠ)#(Abuzz with mess and confusion that thwarts good and bad men into utter stone.)#(Hangyon is momentarily shocked but quickly recovers his cheery self)#Pikero - âPiii~Kero⊠Might one ask what you might be doing~~?â#(Pikero who turns to Hangyon)#Pikero - âFortification.â#(He returns back to business. As if normal.)#(Hanging Bargain Jean after Bargain Jean.)#(On the walls. On the floors. Some idly hanging from light fixtures and taped to doors.) (Splattered naturally as paint meant for walls.)#(Hangyon attempts to make small talk out of Pikero but only receives short-answered responses almost akin to automation)#(If asked what Pikero was doing âFortificationâ would be the answer.) (And he would slowly return back to work.)#(Sometimes unbothered with answers. âYou know so why ask?â) (Not exactly what is said but implied)#Bargain Jeans Bargain Jeans Bargain Jeans#Walls Floors More And ForeverMore#(And Hangyon would say something like this: âAlas~ Narrative calls for the arrival of a new character because it might be obvious that weâr#(Something like that)#(Hangyon who peers from somewhere as Tuxam attempts to cross the bargain jean ridden place like water thatâs reached towards his waist)#(Heâs slowly making a path and pushing the bargain jeans around the floor with his ice cream stick)#(Curses beneath his breath out of confusion for âWHY!?â but he knows why just why take these measures in the first place)#(At this point Hangyon is watching like heâs a photographer for National Geographic and canât disturb the animals)#Oâ denim labyrinth in cursed beyond / covered you and all begone / blue is the sky and all painted things#/ rubbed between the feet was fabric and string / dreams innuendo the dystopia / I wore the little article through leg and arm#/ bargain is the life and jeans is the means#tuxam wakes up in a cold sweat#fragaria memories#fragmem#pikero#tuxam
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Ok so reader only know ghostface without the mask and one day catches him take off his mask during a kill and she says thatâs hot and he finds out she has a mask kink and maybe like predator prey with squirting ?
Heâs lucky sheâs into bad boys. Fluff to nsfw
make you mine
ETHAN LANDRY x fem!reader
nsfw content â pls scroll if uncomfortable!
summary: you have a study date with your crush and walk in on him wearing his silly ghostface robe
warnings: smut, p in v, blood, oral, light choking, creampie, sweet and mean ethan kinda, mask kink, ethan is our cute psycho bae
i hope you like it :) iâm sorry i didnât really know how to include predator prey
nsfw content below !!
it had been a few months since you met ethan. he was all youâve ever wantedâ sweet, caring, smart, and dorky. you were into all the same things, from star wars down to gaming. the only thing that wasnât identical between the two of you were your study habits.
you wouldnât say you were a troubled student, no, you were struggling student. you needed help, and whoâs better to help you then your hot crush who happens to be a straight A+ student?
you had talked it over with him the other day and you both agreed youâd come down to his dorm tonight for a study dateâ session. he said chad was with tara tonight so it would be just the two of you, ridding you of chads loud yelling. chad was nice, you loved him, but he could get quite a bit annoying when it comes to his gaming or sports shows.
so here you stood, knocking on ethanâs dorm door. silence is all that answered you. you were quite annoyed, you had been standing here for a few minutes now, staring at the wood in your face and waiting for it to open. but thus, no answer. worst part? you could hear the sound of someone walking around and moving things inside. ethan was home. was he ignoring you?
âethan?â you call out, now getting a little worried. there had been a killer on the loose recently, going by the name ghostface. his shrieking mouth and wide black eyes lingered in your head, for good and bad reasons you didnât wanna discuss. a voice whispered in your ear, telling you ethan was in trouble inside.
your hand found its way on the handle and slowly turned it, blinking in surprise when it opens with a small creak. it wasnât like ethan or chad to leave their door ever unlocked. odd.
you step in and immediately freeze at the sight of blood trails on the ground, splattered over the floor and leading to ethanâs room. you gulp nervously and quickly lock the door behind you, worriedly rushing to his kitchen to grab a knife before slowly walking towards his bedroom.
you peeked your head in, looking around the dark young adult room. he had a large bed in the corner of the room, with dozens of pillows and a plaid navy blue blanket, his clothes hanging on the edges. his desk was next to his bed, also working as his nightstand, with his gaming set up on the top. you loved his gaming set up, it was always fun to play on it or watch him play himself.
but it wasnât how messy his room was that had you gaping in shockâ no, it was the sight of him standing in the middle of the room with his back to you, black robe stained with bloody smears on his body, and a familiar mask in his hands. he was looking around the room in a rush, trying to change out of it quickly before you came, you assumed.
âethan?â you choked out, your voice pathetically small.
he jumps at the sound of your voice, immediately turning to face you. his eyes are wide, brown curls messy and his plump lips parted in surprise. horror takes over his expression as he gawks at you, holding the mask silently for a moment before shoving it behind his mask.
âwhat are you doing here?â he coughs awkwardly.
you gaze at him, blinking dumbly.
âwe.. had.. a study daâ session.â
â..right.â he gulps hard. he didnt forget, of course he didnât. he had been freaking out all week about having the perfect night with you. he was gonna play a movie and study with you and play some gamesâ not whatever the hell this is.
â..youâre.. the ghostface.â you mumble and step forward, shutting the door behind you. he blinks in surprise at your easiness and how you werenât on your knees crying. you were calm. collected. it freaked him out a little.
âyouâre not screaming and crying.â he comments, dark eyes staring you down as you finally step face to face with him. a small smile tugs at your lips, hands going to gently pull the mask from his hands to look over the white plastic now stained red.
âiâm just glad youâre okay,â you mumble, rubbing the blood smudge, âi saw the blood trail and assumed the worst.â you smile up at him. he shudders.
this was weird. you werenât scared at all. no, you were giving him bedroom eyes and showing your pretty little smile at him. he wants to scoop you up already.
âyou do realize iâm the ghostface, right?â he scoffs, one hand going to gently take your chin. his robe and bloody appearance gives him more confidence, letting him take ahold of your face to pull him closer. âthe same dude whoâs been trying to kill all our friends.â
he doesnât miss the way your cheeks burn up at his touch. a small grin appears on his face. he couldnât of fallen in love with a more perfect woman.
âas long as you donât hurt me.â you smile sheepishly and look him up and down, scanning his attire more clearly now that youâre up close. itâs slightly sparkly, the fabric glistening from his led lights.
âi would never hurt you.â he cooâs, gently rubbing his thumb against your porcelain skin. his gloves are thick but you can still feel his warmth against your skin, rubbing a small amount of blood onto your skin. he smiles at the contrast of your cute face with the blood stain.
your lips part by themselves as you look up at him, lashes batting. he takes one good look at your face and immediately knows what you want. one hand wraps around your small waist and the other tangles itself in your hair, pulling you against his lips with a small moan.
the kiss is gentle and slow, soft pants leaving the two of you between each kiss. your skin felt milky in his hands. you had imagined the two of you kissing many timesâ during your lunch break and when you had movie nights with the whole friend group, but you never imagined it like this.
with blood all over him, the ghostface mask in your hand and his rough hands gently scooping you up into his arms. his muscles have never been more prominent, making you cling tighter and let out a small moan into his lips. he groans at your soft little noise, pulling you closer and starting to walk you towards his bed.
with a soft thud your back hits the mattress, blinking up at him with a flushed expression and a smile creeping onto your lips. he begins to put his mask off to the side before you quickly catch his wrist, âwait, donât.â you say. he frowns down at you in surprise, brow raising up.
âdonât what?â he hums in amusement.
âkeep.. it.. on.â you mutter hesitantly.
oh, you were gonna be the death of him for sure. your cute little smile and big eyes blinking up at him innocently, as if you didnât just ask him to fuck you in his mask. he canât help but immediately smash his lips back onto yours, taking advantage of the last few seconds heâll be able to kiss you.
his hands are gentle with you but in a hurry as he tugs down your clothes, pulling down your bottoms and yanking your top off you. heâs trying be carefulâ but he canât wait any longer for your sweet taste.
âiâm gonna use my mouth on you and then iâll put the mask on, okay?â he whispers, glancing at you with pleading brown eyes. you nod meekly and part your thighs, watching as he lowers his head between them and presses a soft kiss to your folds. you let out a soft exhale at that, your hands going to tangle themselves in his soft hair. you make sure you donât accidentally pull his hair too hard.
his lips arenât very experienced when it comes to pleasing women but he tries his best, sucking at your clit while his gloved fingers prod at your hole, gently sliding in a finger and curling it up into your g-spot. the noise you make motivates him further, his sucking increasing in its pressure as he wiggles his finger.
âplease, just like that-â you gasp, your legs finding their way over his shoulders. your feet kick lightly against his muscular back, eyes fluttered shut in bliss and mouth agape with noises falling out like a broken record.
he hums, muffled by your pussy. the vibration makes you shiver and clench down on his fingers. he notices and decides to add in his second finger, giving your clit a few little nibbles to distract you from the stretch. you whine lewdly and he chuckles lightly.
a few more minutes are spent of him slowly building you up until you fall over the edge, moaning happily as he drives his thick fingers deeper and deeper until you cum on his fingers, some of it getting on his chin. his lower face glows with your essence, parting after a moment with a slow breath.
âso perfect for me.â his lips perk up, hands going to tug at your waist, pulling you further down the bed until your right under him. he kneels over you, grabbing his mask and pulling it back on. your reaction is immediate, cheeks flushing at the sight of the tall masked man, bloody mask and robe looming over your naked form.
ânever thought youâd be into this, doll.â he muses, feeling a switch in his personality with the confidence the mask gives him. his hands are quick to pull his robe aside, pulling his hard cock out from his sweatpants. it slaps against his abdomen with a soft squelch, the pre cum glistening with his tip throbbing red.
âgonna be a good girl and take this cock?â he asks gently, crawling over you.
âyes ghostface..â you giddily smile, grinning up at him as he presses your thighs to your chest and giving him access to your core. he smiles under his mask in approval, gently rubbing circles on your thighs, before pressing his head against your opening. he watches your face as he slowly inches it in, going deeper and deeper into your gummy walls, splitting you apart in his girth.
âfuck, feels sâgood ethan.â you say in an almost whiny tone, gawking at the stretch and how good it feels to have your best friend finally dick you down the way youâve been imagining for months. youâre rendered speechless as he impales you slowly and gently, relishing in how you moan so pretty.
âitâs ghostface to you, baby.â he corrected with a cocky tone. once the words leave his mouth, he delivers a harsh thrust into you, making you bite down and squeak. the stretch is barely there anymoreâ your wetness letting him easily make his home inside you.
âs-sorry, sorry, please ghostfaceââ you quickly replied, chest heaving up and down as he starts a pace. your mouth falls open as his fat head slams against your cervix, hands holding your thighs tightly down with an almost bruising grip. when you imagined finally having sex with him, you pictured gentle and slow love making, not this.
his shrieking expression stared down at you emotionlessly, the blood reminding you he had just murdered someone before pushing his cock inside you. their blood was all over the room, staining the floor and now your porcelain skin. and for some odd reason, your pussy clamped down on him harder at that.
âyouâreâ soâ so damn, tightââ he hisses lowly, a guttural groan coming from him. he harshly slams inside you, one of his hands going to wrap around your throat and squeeze. the choking catches you off guard, blinking up at him in distraught before whimpering pathetically.
he snickers at that. âsuch a god damn whore,â he laughs, squeezing your airway gently while thrusting harder and harder into your pussy. âmoaning like a slut while the blood of an innocent person gets all over them.â he huffs.
he pulls himself down, pressing his chest against your thighs. âmy slut, right?â he coos in an almost sweet tone, mocking you no doubt. you nod with a muffled cry, feeling your orgasm near once again. he could feel himself growing close to his climax as well, his cock throbbing intensely inside you.
âfuckâ fuck, gonna cum? gonna cum for me?â he gives your thigh a little swat before pressing his rough fingers against your clit, pinching and rubbing it harshly as you squeal. he doesnât let up on his pace at all, rather taking your choked up noises as more reason to go harder.
your nod is eager and messy, big watery eyes gazing up at his mask. your pussy was too tight and he could feel himself cumming already, his thrusts slowing down until he gives you one last little jerk of his hips. a soft sigh leaves him as your walls spasm around him tightly. his eyes widen in shock as you squirt all over his cock and robe, a gasp leaving the two of you.
itâs silence for a moment before he starts snickering, staring down at the mess you made of his robe. your cheeks turn red and you weakly sit up, blinking at him with dazed eyes and swollen lips. he could see the light mark his hand made around your neck, making him almost harden again.
âs-shut up, i didnât know i could do that!â you hiss defensively, blushing and squeezing your thighs shut. he laughs and shakes his head, pulling his mask off and shaking his curls free.
âdont worry about it baby, just lay back. lemme clean you up and then maybe we can do that studying.â he snorts. you roll your eyes and reluctantly lay back down, staring at him.
âare you, uh, actually ghostface?â your small question breaks the silence as he fixes you up. he scowls down at you.
âyeah, dumbass.â
#ghost face x reader#ghostface smut#ghostface#ethan landry x reader#ethan landry#ethan landry smut#scream#scream 6#scream x reader#jack champion
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Screening: Halloween (1978).
Pairing: Yandere!Gojo x Reader (JJK).
Word Count: 3.1k.
TW: No Curses!AU, Serial Killer AU, Non/Con, Fem!Reader, Character Death, Oral Sex, Unprotected Sex, Reader is Pregnant, Blood, Age Gap (Reader is 32, Gojo is 18), and No Actual Incest, But The Vibes Are There. Dead Dove: Do Not Eat.
There was a man in your kitchen.
Which, to be fair, youâd already known. Youâd only woken up because you heard something clattering on that side of your house, only gotten out of bed because the noise had gotten too loud to ignore. You figured your husband (as lovable as he was clumsy, unfortunately) had dropped something during a late-night water run and managed to hurt himself while cleaning it up, and knowing him, your pristine house would be in ruins if he tried to handle it himself. You didnât particularly care about the mess. It could wait until tomorrow â tonight, all you needed him to worry about was keeping your bed warm.
Exhausted and bleary-eyed, you didnât think to go back to bed when the noises stopped, didnât notice how eerily silent your home had grown in the absence of your husbandâs rustling. No possibility worse than a little broken glass ever crossed your mind, not until you reached the doorway, until your fickle attention caught on the dots of blood splattered across the perfectly white tiles of your floor; not very many and not very big, but still, more than you thought thereâd be. Your eyes followed them left until they grew into a trail, then a puddle, and then finally, your husband â lying on his side, crumpled against the nearest cabinet. You couldnât see where he was hurt. You couldnât see is he was breathing.
Blankly, you slumped against the doorframe, suddenly feeling both infinitely more awake and infinitely more dazed than you had the second prior. Almost involuntarily, you called out to him, only aware of the sound of your voice after itâd left your mouth. ââŠHiromi? Baby?â
âNot quite.â Your eyes shot up and through the unlit space. It seemed unthinkable that thereâd be someone else in the room, that thereâd be someone responsible for this, and yet, there he was, standing over what used to be your husband â dark stains painted across the material of his black hoodie, a knife still clutched in his right hand. The knife was set delicately onto the nearest countertop, his foot knocking into your husbandâs shoulder with a hollow, fleshy sound he stepped over him, and then, the murderer was in front of you, eyes too bright to be completely human prying into you through the darkness. âBut, you remember my name too, right?â
You didnât, but it came to you quickly. His stark white hair shouldâve been the first give-away, and yet, it took another second of staring into those horrible blue eyes to fully believe what you were looking at.
âSatoru?â
It couldnât have been. You knew it couldnât have been. Itâd been a decade since you last saw him â or, rather, since you last saw the starry-eyed eight-year-old whoâd cling to your waist and make you promise to teach him how to braid flower frowns after he was done with his daily lessons. This wasnât your Satoru. This was a grown man, covered in your husbandâs blood and holding his hands up in a show of faux-innocence as he approached you, a startlingly familiar smile already contorting his otherwise blank expression. You tried to take a step back, to retreat without turning away from him, but your heel caught on something wet and too terrible to name and you fell, landing with your back against the corridor wall. Your hands shot to your stomach instinctually, but Satoru didnât seem to notice, dropping to one knee in front of you. âOh no, did you hurt yourself?â And then, without ever letting his grin falter. âIâm sorry I made such a mess. I was just so happy to see you, and then someone else came to greet me, and I think I mightâve lost my temper. It used to happen a lot after youâd leave, tooââ
âPlease donât hurt me,â you cut in, breathless from the very first word. That, at least, got him to stop smiling.
âHurt you? Why would IâŠâ He spared a glance over his shoulder, then let out a bark of a laugh. âOh. No, no, Iâd never do that to you. Itâs justâHe was telling me to leave, and I knew youâd be so happy to see me, and I already apologized for the mess. You used to let me off the hook all the time, if I seemed sorry enough.â
He was right, you had. Youâd been young and optimistic, and his offenses had been limited to childish temper-tantrums and a few unkind comments made towards his more discipline-focused household staff. But, notably, heâd also been eight, and youâd been fired in less than a year, and heâd never killed anyone in front of you. God, this was bad. This was so, so, so bad. Hiromi was dead, and you were going to die next, and your baby wasâ
You couldnât let yourself think about that. It was all you could do to stop yourself from hyperventilating, to drag yourself out of an oncoming panic attack and back to the very real, very present threat in front of you. Satoru had already hurt someone. He could hurt you, too, even if he wasnât holding a weapon. You needed to call someone. Better yet, you needed to get away from him.
It took everything you had not to let your voice shake, to force your tongue to cooperate. You tried to remember what itâd been like to be an overconfident twenty-something taking care of a kid just a little too eager to soak in your praise, but abandoned the effort before you could make this any worse for yourself. âDoes⊠Does your family know where you are, âtoru?â
And, just like that, his smile was back in full force. Almost gleefully, he shook his head. âI donât think theyâve known for a while now, maâam.â
Fuck. That was right. You hadnât been fired â thereâd been a fire, or an accident, you couldnât remember the details. Youâd heard, months later, that Satoru had been the lone survivor, but you werenât sure what happened to him after that.
âIâm sorry, Satoru.â It was hard to feign sympathy when the love of your lifeâs body was still warm, but you managed. âBut, you still did something very, very wrong tonight, and I think we should call someone to help.â
âWell, we canât do that. Theyâd just take you away from me again.â You bit into the inside of your cheek. So he wasnât completely delusional, after all. âThatâs what my clan wanted to do. They said you were distracting me, and that youâd have to leave. I told them I didnât want you to, butâŠâ He paused, laughed. âI guess that doesnât matter, anymore.â
You opened your mouth, but Satoru didnât give you a chance to speak. Without warning, he surged forward, cupping your face in his hands, his smile taking on a manic lull. âI waited.â He sounded so proud of himself, like he expected you to congratulate him. âI couldâve come to you right away, but I was good, I waited. I knew I had to be a little older. I knew youâd always take care of me, but I had to be able to take care of you, too.â
Something heavy and sharp turned over in the pit of your stomach. ââŠI really donât need you to take care of anything, âtoru.â
âI know.â Impossibly, his eyes seemed to grow even brighter. âI want to, though. Because itâs what you did for me.â
And then, almost breathlessly, âBecause I love you.â
You were going to be sick.
You didnât know what to say. Even if you had, you wouldnât have been able to spit it out, not with your teeth grit and your throat filled with cotton. Pathetically, you tried to push him away, to stand up, but Satoru only cooed and took your attempts at resistance as a sign to move on, to move forward. You felt his arms snake around your waist only half a second before you felt him straighten against you â pushing himself to his feet and pulling you into a sort-of bridal carry, not unlike something your husband wouldâve done when he was feeling sappily romantic, which he almost always was.
Satoruâs embrace was too unwelcome to be romantic, though, too stiff to be comfortable, and worst of all, too tight to fight against as he made his way through your now-barren home. He didnât ask you for directions or try any doors. Rather, almost too confidently, he found his way to the master bedroom, the door still ajar from when youâd stumbled through it minutes prior. Unceremoniously, eagerly, you were dropped onto the center of your bed and before you had time to get away, Satoru was on top of you; a knee by your hip, a hand by your head, his mouth on yours. His teeth scrapped across your lips and clashed against yours, his tongue forcing its way down your throat as he let out a wavering, pitchy moan against your mouth. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you thought that Satoru wasnât a very good kisser, then felt repulsed at yourself. That wasnât something you were supposed to know. Not about Satoru.
He really had been such a sweet kid. Itâd been years since the last time you thought about him, but it wouldâve been hard to forget how heâd pouted when you told him homework came before sweets, how his eyes lit up the first time whenever you managed to convince his caretakers that heâd earned a fieldtrip, even if youâd never taken him anywhere more exciting than the local aquarium. Youâd never planned to spend the rest of your life filling-in for his perpetually absent parents, but your heart had broken just a little when one of the familyâs maids let you know that sheâd overheard future plans to let you go. Heâd gotten too attached, sheâd said. Heâs been calling you âmomâ.
âŠ
Maybe you shouldnât have been so surprised. It wasnât like this was ever going to end well for either of you.
When Satoru broke away, it was only to pull his hoodie and shirt over his head with all the grace and all the care of an overeager teenager, too desperate to get back to the act at-hand to think about impressing you. He moved to kiss you, again, but you managed to catch him by the shoulders, to hold him off just long enough to find your voice. âWait, Satoru.â He didnât, but he dropped lower, his mouth falling to your neck, then your collarbone. You felt his hand graze over your thigh, and were suddenly aware that youâd gone to bed in an oversized shirt and nothing else. âYou donât really want to do this, youâre just confused. You should take a second to catch your breath, andââ You cut yourself off with a pained hiss as his teeth dug into the upper curve of your breast. You couldnât bring yourself to wonder whether or not itâd leave a mark. âAndâ Stop.â
This time, you were forceful enough for him to glance towards your face, his eyes just barely visibly through his disheveled hair. Talking felt like choking down gravel, but you managed. âWe canât,â you said, offering your best attempt at a sympathetic frown. âIâm pregnant, âtoru.â
It was true, as little as you wanted Satoru to be the first person you told. You werenât far enough along to be showing, but his gaze immediately fell to your stomach. You counted the seconds as he stared at you, the gears turning in his head. Finally, he pulled away, his expression taking on a dream-like quality.
âYouâre so perfect,â he sighed, suddenly dazed. âMy mamaâs gonna be a real mommy.â
âMhm.â You didnât try to smile back. If you pushed your limits any further, the strain mayâve gotten to you before Satoru did. âSo, you understand why you have to leave, donât you?â
âCanât do that, pretty girl.â He ducked lower, his hands shifting to your waist. You tried to sit up, and he let you, too preoccupied settling into the space between your open legs. âSomeoneâs gotta be there to watch you extra close, now.â
And yet, watching didnât seem to be what he had in mind.
The heat of it struck you first; damp and smothering, like steam or humidity or the feeling of water in your lungs, drowning you from the inside out. He ate you out as messily as heâd kissed you; never content to be lapping at your entrance or suckling on your clit when he could be attempting to do both. His broad tongue drew aimless patterns over your cunt, fucking into your pussy with every other stroke while the bridge of his nose ground into your clit, leaving no part of you untainted, unscathed. You tried to ignore him and, when that failed, to pretend that it was Hiromi between your legs, but you couldnât spin straw into gold. Your husband had always been lovingly playful in bed, prone to pressing open-mouthed kisses into the inside of your thighs, to drawing out the letters of his name into your clit as his long, talented fingers split you open. Satoruâs fingers were too busy groping at your hips to be good for anything else, and he couldnât seem to pull himself away from pussy for much of anything, let alone something as unimportant as âcareâ or âtendernessâ. You could feel his teeth ghost over your skin, his saliva pooling at the apex of your thighs, and worst of all, you could feel yourself growing warmer, your core growing tighter, your self-control waning as you fought against the urge to buck into his mouth.
Your hands balled at the sheets underneath you, your eyes soon clenched shut in an effort to convince yourself that this wasnât happening, that you werenât here, that this wouldnât end with you cumming into the mouth of the man whoâd killed your husband, of the overgrown child who youâd once considered yourself responsible for. Tears burnt at the corners of your eyes, but if Satoru noticed your distress, he was determined to play obvious to the bitter end; only whining into your cunt as you clenched around his tongue. It was the reverberation that ultimately sealed your fate; as unintentional on his part as it was unwilling on yours. That was where your commonalities ended, though. While you sobbed and thrashed through your orgasm, Satoru basked in it, curling his tongue against the convulsing walls of your cunt, drinking down every moment of your agony.
By the time he pulled away, you were too spent to be relieved â cold exhaustion flooding into the gaps that reprieve shouldâve filled. Even that was stripped away from you, eventually, with only the effort it took him to straighten his back, to spread your legs around his waist, to free his leaking cock from his jeans â a visibly damp spot now staining the dark material. You tried to scramble back, to roll over, but Satoru caught you by the hip with one hand while the other pressed the head of his cock to your entrance, the ghost of contact alone hot enough to burn. âW-Wait,â you tried, before things got as bad as they possibly could. âSatoru, the babyââ
âI know,â he cut in, flashing you a reassuring smile. âIâll be careful. I promise, nothingâs gonna hurt you or my little brother ever again.â
You wanted to scream. You mightâve, if he hadnât chosen that moment to push into you, only stopping when his hips pressed into yours and he couldnât possibly make this any worse.
The physical sensation mightâve been bearable, on its own. You already knew you were never going to recover mentally, but Hiromi was thicker with a more pronounced curve, even if Satoru probably beat him for length by an inch or so. If itâd just been the physicality, the dizziness heat, the nauseating stretch from your cunt to your core, but you mightâve been able to deal with it, but Satoru was so damn loud â disassociating wouldâve been too difficult to warrant the effort, if not out-right impossible. He whined as he rutted into you, slotting his just chest against yours and burying his face in your neck, his tongue running mindless over the side of your throat. âIâI thought about practicing,â he muttered, forcing himself to speak between raspy groans and hitched whimpers. âI tried to, because I knew youâd be sâso good at this, but I couldnât do it, not if it wasnât for you, orââ You felt him twitch inside of you, and everything seemed to turn to static. When you came back to yourself, he was still ranting, still rambling senseless into your jugular vein. ââI love you. You were always so pretty, and nice, and I love you. I love you. I love you.â
He repeated that same senseless mantra until the words began to slur and crack. You didnât want to touch him, but his pelvic bone scraped over your clit and you lashed out on instinct â your fingers soon tangled in his hair, your nails biting into his scalp. Satoruâs whimpers were immediately replaced by full-bodied moans only slightly stifled by your skin. Numbly, you were aware that similar (albeit, much more pained) noises were falling past your own lips, that your pussy was soaking in the stimulation your conscious mind rejected, but you could only bring yourself to acknowledge what that meant as your second orgasm crested, as you let what you could only distantly acknowledge as pleasure wash over you. Satoru followed in-suit a few seconds later, making no attempt to pull out as something searing and thick and awful flooded into.
You supposed you shouldâve been thankful that he couldnât get you pregnant. Maybe youâd find the energy for gratitude, later on.
Satoru never really pulled away. He only drew back, allowing for enough distance been you and him to smile, to kiss your forehead â the same way youâd kissed his, when he shared his never-ending supply of candy or scraped his knee. He lingered there, nuzzling against you, one of his hands drifting to your stomach and settling there.
âI missed you,â he muttered, with a shallow sigh. And then, for the hundredth time, âI love you.â
Had you not been able to feel every last inch of his wide, fanged grin biting into you, you mightâve actually believed it was true.
#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere x you#yandere imagines#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen imagines#yandere jujutsu kaisen#yandere jjk#jjk x reader#jjk imagines#yandere gojo satoru#gojo satou x reader
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hayloft
a/n: soâŠ. i watched twistersâŠâŠâŠâŠ
summary:Â âso what youâre saying is that you just came in here seeking shelter from the rain?â a smirk dazzled his features, âout of every shed and every other barn you passed on your way back to the house, you conveniently chose this one which I just so happen to still be in from when you poked your head in earlier,â his gaze briefly dipped down to your soaked through, and now sheer, t-shirt.
warnings:Â farmhand!tyler owens x farmer's daughter!reader, smut, farmer au, secret relationship, established relationship, bull rider!tyler, rain, sex on a hayloft, kissing, dirty talk, oral, facesitting, manhandling, impact play, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, wrote this in the middle of the night oops, click here for the prequel to this story
word count: 1673
⌠gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here âœ
masterlist | join my taglist
Rain splattered against the barn door as you fought to tug it closed, droplets whipped your face until the very last second when you finally managed to latch it shut.Â
âHey,â a deep timbre crackled from behind you, causing you to whirl around.Â
âOh, hi Tyler,â a smile couldnât help but creep up on your features as you spotted the painstakingly handsome farmhand, âwhat are you doing in here?âÂ
A chuckle then bubbled out of him as he leaned the long pitchfork in his grasp against a nearby wall.
âMy job, maâam.â
âOf course, right,â one of your hands shot up to wipe your wet face, though without much success as your palms too were completely drenched.Â
âBetter question is,â he took a step closer to where you stood, dripping onto the dusty barn floors, âwhat are you doing in here?âÂ
âOh, well, I was just coming home from a ride on Blue when the rain came pouring down, soââÂ
âSo what youâre saying is that you just came in here seeking shelter from the rain?â a smirk dazzled his features, âout of every shed and every other barn you passed on your way back to the house, you conveniently chose this one which I just so happen to still be in from when you poked your head in earlier,â his gaze briefly dipped down to your soaked through, and now sheer, t-shirt.
âHm,â you hummed through your smile, âyeah, that really is convenient,â neither denying nor affirming his accusation as you then teasingly twisted away from the close proximity his slow stride had created.
Catching the ladder that led up to the open hayloft, you slowly began to climb it.Â
âJust what are you doing now?â you heard from behind you.Â
âYou said you were working,â you glanced over your shoulder, successfully catching Tyler staring at your ass through your jean shorts, âso Iâm getting out of your hair.âÂ
âOh, is that what youâre doing?â
âThatâs right,â you reached the top and plopped yourself down on the planks, âIâm kind that way. So now, just go back to whatever you were doing, lifting heavy things or whatever,â you waved a vague hand down at him in hopes that he would put on a show for you and let you ogle the way his muscles flexed beneath his tight shirt.Â
But he didnât pick the pitchfork back up.Â
Instead, he simply blew out a soft chuckle, gazing up at you as a light shake found his head, staring up at your drenched visage just a moment longer before he began to climb the ladder as well.Â
A giggle rolled off your tongue as he reached the top, a gentle sound that he then swiftly smothered as he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours, still balanced on the ladder, clutching onto the sides as he reached you, sitting cross-legged on the floor before him.Â
âYouâre unbelievable, you know that?âÂ
âMe?â you tilted your lips out of his reach, âI am an angel. Iâve never done anything wrong in my life,â a grin accompanied your jest.Â
As he climbed the rest of the way up onto the loft, you didnât shift away to make room for him, only leaned back on your forearms as he blissfully crawled to settle above you.Â
When you raised yourself up to kiss him once more, you only got to taste him for but a moment, only shyly managing to sink your fingers into the hem of his shirt, before he denied you of any more.Â
âI swear to god, itâs like you want your daddy to catch us with the way you keep throwing yourself at me.â
Letting out a light-hearted scoff, you said, âexcuse me? First of all, itâs raining and even if it wasnât, heâs not coming down here, not this time of day, and second of all, talk about yourself, sir,â you hooked your legs up and over the small of his back, âyouâre the one always stealing kisses from me even when you know heâs around,â you counted, âoh, also that one time in the tool shed? It doesnât matter that you covered my mouth, he for sure knew something was going on in there,â Tylerâs smile only brightened at the recollection, âand donât even get me started on the way youâre always looking at me.â
âHow do I look at you?âÂ
âYou know howâŠâ you laughed, melting under his gaze, âyouâre doing it right now.âÂ
âOh, am I?â he acted as if it wasnât completely on purpose how his eyes undressed you, âIâm sorry, I hadnât noticed.âÂ
Leaning down to capture your lips once more, a light squeak then escaped your lungs as he suddenly rolled over onto his back, onto a low pile of loose hay, dragging you along with him.
But as your body rested atop his, completely plastered against one another as his broad hands took their time raking down your curves, a soft chuckle rumbled in his chest and vibrated against your tongue.Â
âOh my god, youâre so fucking wet,â he laughed, playfully giving the drenched denim clinging to your ass a swift tap.Â
Pushing yourself up a bit more, you spotted the splotchy stamp youâd transferred all down Tylerâs front.Â
âYeah well, I was just caught in the rain, what do you want me to do?âÂ
âIt really did get you good, didnât it?â you felt his hands shift and nimbly undo your shorts.
âMhm,â you nodded, blinking down at him as he yanked your soaked shorts down and tossed them off to the side, onto a hay bale.Â
âYou mind if I check something real quick?â he playfully asked, scooping his grasp down to curve securely around the plush of your bottom.Â
âNot at all,â you smiled before a sharp yelp then suddenly erupted out of you.
Tyler knew he could toss you around like a ragdoll, a skill of his he wasnât at all shy to lean into, especially now as he yanked you closer, all the way up his frame till he settled you just above his face.
âTyler!â you laughed, squirming lightly as he pulled you further down against him, letting his nose nuzzle against the sliver of your underwear before he placed a sloppy kiss against them.Â
With his wide palms still glued to your butt, a few of his fingers stretched out to catch the hem of your panties and tug them to the side, granting himself the full access he desired.Â
As he began to eagerly lap you up, he briefly murmured against you, âyeah, you really are completely soaked,â conjuring a hazy laugh to rip through you as your head tipped back at the pleasure.Â
Teasing your little clit till your thighs began to shake on either side of his face, you felt his hands briefly migrate up your back and guide you to collapse entirely above him, bending you forward and letting your forearms land in a soft pile of hay for support.Â
His strong arms then scooped back down to your ass, blanketing them around your hips as he brought you even closer to him, evidently not that desperate to let himself breathe any time soon as your all-consuming presence above him was the one and only thing he desired.Â
With the way that he devoured you whole, not long passed till you were cumming all over his face, whimpering and trembling against his unyielding efforts. You barely let yourself catch your breath before you crawled back down his form, lazily kissing the taste of you off of his tongue as you worked at freeing his hard cock that strained in his jeans.
Your frame stayed plastered against his own after you sank down upon him, your tits in the soaked shirt smooshing against his chest. With your panties still clinging just off to the side of your cunt, you only let yourself shutter at the stretch a shy second before your trembly thighs raised you back up to find a slow rhythm.
âFuckâŠâ he groaned, tilting away from the breathless kiss, âride that cockâ, shit, youâre so good,â he nearly hissed at the way you rolled your hips, your silky walls clinging around his girth, âthatâs my girl.âÂ
âYeah, well I partly blame you for finally explaining to me how exactly it is you ride those crazy bulls,â you spoke about his daring side gig, âhow you stay on, tame them.â
âYeah,â an airy chuckle slipped out of his lungs, âyou might just give me a run for my money if I ever get you up on a real one.âÂ
âI thought thatâs what I was doing now,â you smirked down at him as you rocked your hips even further down against his, grinding the length of him dizzyingly deep inside of your pussy. The comment however also earned you a slap across the ass, causing the laugh hiding just behind your lips to finally break free, âhey, Iâm not wrong, you are an animal!â
Burying one of his hands into your hair, he uttered against your lips, âwell, if Iâm an animal, then youâre one too,â nearly growling as he held you close and let himself buck up into you, meeting your slow bouncing halfway, âweâre cut from the same cloth you and me.â
âYeah,â you moaned, digging your weak hands into his shirt and surely stretching the cotton out, âyou and meâŠâ
Tilting your head just far enough back so that he could catch sight of how your eyes began to roll in your skull, he groaned, âfuck, youâre so beautiful⊠so fucking perfect and warm, tight, fucking squeezing around me so good, and so fucking wetâŠâ a chuckle slipped out of you both at the double entendre, âyou messy girl⊠my messy little fucking girl⊠youâll never get to dry off if I have a say in the matter⊠let you stay just completely soaked for fucking ever and make it so easy for me to just do anything I wantâŠâ
© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubbleÂ
#leaâs writing#tyler owens x reader#tyler owens smut#tyler owens x you#tyler owens imagine#twisters smut#tyler owens x y/n#twisters x reader#tyler owens fluff#glen powell smut#twisters fanfic#tyler owens fic#glen powell x reader#twisters imagine#farmer!reader á°#farmhand!tyler owens#farmer!tyler owens#bull rider!tyler owens#cowboy!tyler owens
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soft s3x and grey sweats
pairing: miguel o'hara x f!gf!reader
warnings: smut, tooth rotting fluff, miguel wears grey sweatpants, soft and loving sex, domesticity, unprotected piv
summary: miguel ft. grey sweatpants
A gentle drizzle splatters on the windows of your bedroom, tapping its soft, irregular crystal drops onto the glass only to wake you from your blissful nap.
You had fallen asleep with your head on his chest, invaded by the warmth of his body next to yours, the fascinating feeling of being home with him. You couldn't ever dare to ask for more than that.
With a spine-bending stretch, you step out of the cosiness of the king-sized bed following the realisation of his absence. Leaping down the stairs, you seek the comfort of him being near you like a throat-gripping vice.
You hear the water running, occasionally overlapped by clattering, dishes clanking and drawers being pushed shut.
You step out into the hall of your open-concept kitchen, linen stockings preventing even the subtlest noises of your movements from reaching him through the ambiance.
Your weight on the wooden floor is merely a gust of wind as you sit yourself into the corner of the sofa in order to watch him from up close.
You hug your legs to your chest in an attempt to adapt to the temperature change of the room, your flimsy top and panties doing little in covering your middle.
He hasn't turned to you since you hopped off the stairway. Arrogance tugs at the furthest corner of your mind after having sneaked behind his hyper vigilance, completely unnoticed. You seize the opportunity to study him in the absence of his piercing gaze fixed upon you.
Your eyes linger over the expanse of his broad back, the navy blue, short-sleeved shirt creasing in thin, cascading lines over his shoulder blades as he shifts his weight to his right, bicep bulging when he stretches his hand up into a cupboard.
You're more than delighted to note the easiness with which he attains things normally out of your reach.
Not only once did you call for his help to get you something from any place higher above you, having him stand behind you when doing so, and without fail him making sure to push his groin up against your ass in the process, prompting you to bend just slightly forward onto the board or sink in front of you before the simplest request for aid turned into you, taking him against any surface around the house.
It became quite the signal after a while. Whenever he heard you, 'Miguel! Come here for a second, babyâ, his cock would fatten in advance at the sound of the command.
"Should've stayed upstairs, muñeca. I was making something for you." he snaps you out of your reverie, the sleepy raspiness in his voice deliciously running late over the last syllables of his remorseful disfavour.
While still not facing you, it turns out he was well-aware of your presence.
"Don't worry about it. I'll just watch." you excuse yourself, draping your midriff over the armrest, hands supporting your head on the soft cushions as you thaw at the sight of him cooking for you.
He returns to the kitchen island, his index finger mindlessly following the instructions he was mentally revising, before his eyes find you on the couch, scanning every patch of skin you have on display, as if sizing you up for his dessert.
He allows his vision to wash over your silky smooth thighs, your waistline that moulds into the hill of the pillows, the exact same way it moulds so erotically against him when he pistons his hips into yours.
With your pleading gaze inviting, thighs squeezed together in frustration, he is unsure of what to finish next, the pancakes, or you.
Your attention drops to the chubbed, prominent curve of his stiffening cock in his sweatpants, the shade of it nearly obscenely large, evident on the grey fabric. His hand slips down his crotch, lazily palming his dick through the material. You feel the heat pooling between your thighs, yearning growing unbearable.
"I have to let it rest. I'm all yours now." he suggests smugly, and part of you suspects that he had been needing to take you since you decided to flutter your eyes shut on the bed, arms coiled around his waist.
You shamelessly keep your eyes on target as he sets the dough bowl aside, approaching you with a heaviness in his pace that you know oh so well.
His dick twitches ever so slightly in his pants, hardening until its outline becomes lewdly evident, straining upwards into his pants in all its length and girth that ruptures you unforgivingly whenever he stuffs himself inside you.
Before he can even reach the sofa, your eager hands clutch his waist, feeling the rigid muscles underneath his shirt as you start planting gentle kisses down his abdomen, having him shudder at the contact even through the cotton fibre.
Your soft breasts meet his bulge in the process, offering nothing more than a few mere brushes that only rile him up more than he had hoped.
He drops his weight next to you on the cushions as the only way to avoid the urge to pull his cock out and shove it down your throat through your pretty, plush lips. He opts to rest his head back on the pillows, legs spread wide in front of him, taking up nearly all the space next to you.
Not a single moment is wasted before you take his cheeks in your hands, fingertips grazing his rough, barely visible stubble, pressing rushed, obsessive kisses all over his face.
You slide one leg over his, seeking the pressure of his broad, firm thigh to your clothed cunt.
His own hands are quick to grab your waist, pulling you flush against him, your chest flattened on his. His lips find yours through your loving pecks, deepening the kiss he caught you with, swiftly interrupted by a soft gasp of yours the second your ass meets his boner.
You teasingly lower yourself onto him gently, revelling in the feeling of the tip pressing harshly into the thin fabric of your panties.
Letting your hand travel down his firm chest, down his abdomen and over the sizable bulge in his sweatpants, you cup him through the material, applying just enough pressure to coax a groan out of his throat.
His wide thighs involuntarily flex on your sides and he twitches in your hand, a reminder of his force, his size in comparison to you, his ability to have you any time he wanted despite the position, despite your teasing.
His head leans back on the couch exposing his throat, eyes dazed out and fixed on the view of your breasts peeking from under your crop, visibly satisfied with the angle he found. Your boobs, round and soft, ever so inviting for him to knead in his large hands, he thinks.
Warm palms leave your hips to slide up your waist, disappearing under the cotton shirt, idly groping your chest.
You reel at the feeling of his rough, calloused hands on your smooth skin, touching and fondling in all the right places.
His knuckles protrude every now and then through the thin textile as he keeps massaging your breasts, feeling your pulse quicken with each deep breath you take.
Before you can even decide on your next move, you feel the blistering warmth of a splayed out hand on your back, propping you gently as he tilts you to the side, a familiar bow of such a dirty dance that has your thoughts melting out of your brain, your whole existential purpose being resumed to him alone in a matter of seconds.
He lays you down over the length of the couch with such care, such strength that has you submitting mindlessly, wrapping your frail arms around his neck. Legs up in the air, he has you just like he always does. Your blood boils through you, the ignition of nerves only he could ever cause.
He descends upon you, veiling your entire body in his, hands eagerly running over your body, playing you like an instrument that only sings for him, that only he can hold.
You sigh, taking in the scent of him, letting it invade your lungs like inhalants. The visceral musky cologne, with shades of a pine forest that had your thoughts run wild and senses sharpened.
Half lidded eyes accentuate his savagely, crimson irises and dilated pupils, the sheer sight of you under him never ceasing to rile him up bad enough to make him beg for your touch.
You squirm weakly; quickly enough he takes the hint and hooks his thumb around your panties, dragging them down your soft skin, impatience evident in his movements.
You feel the weight of his hard cock on your thigh, head going dizzy at the thought of its girth stretching you open, the thought of the pained groans that crawl out of his throat when he comes, his dick pulsating inside you.
He stills above you, eyes darting over your face, as if searching for something he had just remembered he was missing, a gaze condimented with adoration, curiosity, and a hesitancy you may only interpret as astonishment.
"No puedo creer que seas mĂa" (âCan't believe you're mine.â) he mutters, barely above a halted whisper, following the realisation of your rather perplexed demeanour when confronted with such antics. âMakes me think that maybe", he pauses, "pushing through all the shit in my life made me worthy of you.â, he confesses, vulnerable and wounded.
You've caught smudges of this view of his before, only not this categorical. In a way, you find it quite the most heartwarming yet peculiar thing there is to know about him. He seeks the comfort of believing that all the suffering he endured meant something, a sacrificial lamb for him to ultimately earn the limitless love of your embrace, your affections and unwavering devotion.
It wasnât pride that clawed at his memories of having conquered and survived when so many others didnât in the same circumstances he faced. It was relief, the relief of a man that swam the ocean to find paradise.
And there you were, silk-smooth, gentle hands cupping his face with such infatuation he did not think possible, looking up at him like there wasnât anything more beautiful in existence you would rather see.
His heart had inevitably melted into yours; now soldered together against all odds fate could bestow.
âI love you, Miguel. With or without your scars.â, you pull him into a reassuring, promise-sealing kiss, which he softly reciprocates, regaining his confidence and unyielding want.
His lips ghost over your jugular, relishing in the way your exhales halt in your throat, pausing in expectancy as his hot breath excites goosebumps over the satin skin of your exposed neck.
âI love you more.â he teases, lips latching onto your pulse point, lightly sucking hungry kisses down to the valley where your throat meets your shoulder.
Despite knowing how adamant you were about your own love being immeasurable, let alone any lesser than his, he took great joy in dramatically rivalling you on the matter, beclouding your fondness only to start a competition of who manages to sway the other with their words of pure worship and fidelity.
Whether there was another underlying reason for his racing I love you moreâs, you do not know. Maybe a reminiscence of his mistrustful, defensive nature, reflecting its last slither of bewilderment into a seemingly innocent insistence that he, indeed, loved you more than you loved him.
How could he not? You had no knowledge of the things he had to do for his job, what it truly meant to risk everything for someone, to risk your life for another.
And he prefers it this way, to have you shielded away from the horror of finding yourself in that situation, from the heartbreak of even imagining the circumstances in which you may decide to give your life for him in all your passion, let alone pondering upon the choice and place the verdict upon your declaration of love, weighing it down in all gravity and seriousness of the pledge. In the depths of his mind, he dreads it, hearing you say, âI love you, I would give my life for youâ, although he would do so for you without thinking twice.
He dreads knowing that his presence in your life could scar you so that you may have to die for him, that his soul alone could be stained in your blood, even only in hypothesis.
Therefore, he feels far more content thinking that you donât quite love him as much, thinking that you, as perfect as you are, would not suffer should anything happen to him. That your attachment to him will only ever bring you nothing but joy.
And oh how he brought you joy. Pure bliss and paradisiacal rapture. Even more so when he held you so dearly against him, painting you in doting kisses, marks of which linger on your skin long after heâs departed.
His warm, broad hand sails down over the plushy mound of your breast, indulging in a layover just to squeeze lightly. To drift below; its tender, round shape fitting in the junction between his thumb and index finger; his palm seemingly continuing its travel down your waist before returning unexpectedly, massaging your soft tit after a run down and up your waist, making the butterflies in your belly grow agitatedly.
The meagre shudders of your body underneath his unpredictable and exciting touch, the silent whines that die in your throat as he kisses down the crook of your neck have his cock twitching in his pants, beads of precum gathering on the flushed tip, staining the material. You feel the unmistakable length of it poke your thigh, hard and thick.
"Eres tan buena conmigo" (âYouâre so good to me.â) he breathes deeply, voice hoarse with restraint, lacing his words with a poised thread that wraps around your neck, earning him a fractured moan. âTell me what you want and Iâll give it to you.â
Grabbing onto his massive shoulders for support, delighted with the way his muscles ripple under your soft hands as he continues his attack on your most sensitive spots he knows so well, you press your leg tentatively into his hard-on, an unspoken, considerate request for him to cease the teasing and chase his own pleasure.
âI want youâ, you whisper breathily, finding your voice on the last word, accentuating the singularity of your need, the force with which you crave him, only him. âI love you, Miguel, I wanna make you happy.â you declare desperately, planting another suffocating kiss on his slightly agape lips, having him gasp softly into your mouth, a killer whale surfacing above the waterline for a superficial breath before diving back into the depths of the ocean.
He kisses you with such ardour, savouring the addictive taste of your delicate lips, slipping his tongue into your mouth like you hadnât seen each other for months, like one of those desperate days in which he has his way with you right after he returns from a bone-chilling mission throughout the multiverse.
After ending the kiss with an unnecessarily harsh smooch, he draws back, making you giggle through unrelenting panting. He scans your face, absorbing the image of you, in your most defenceless self, so full of what can only be adoration for him.
He takes in your half-lidded, love-struck eyes, the look he thinks not even the bestest of painters of the world could capture on canvas. The look he thinks would be perverted in blasphemy should it be, even in attempt, recreated on any portrait, any sculpture, any photograph.
He follows the line of your jaw that cascades sharply into the crook of your neck, the only safe place for him to lay his head at night, the place he reveres to place the sweetest of kisses upon, having you either laugh or melt in his arms.
His vision then lands on your sore lips, exhaling the very air he breathes, uttering the same words that echoed in his head out in the field; âI love you, truly, entirely and through my whole being. With my body, heart and soul, oh, I love you.â
He dips his head down your waist in reverence, leaving gentle pecks down the line of your stomach. In any other instance, you would giddily chuckle at his ministrations, a chuckle that would soon turn into a hearty burst of laughter, as he knew just the spots to touch and tickle and make you reel in retaliation when play-fighting on a particularly lazy Sunday evening.
However, now, there was no impulse to laugh. You watch him closely as he reaches the crease of your pelvic bone, looking up to meet your gaze.
You feel your face heat up at the sight of him, a strong hand wrapped around your thigh, the other holding your middle.
Satisfied with the moans he successfully drove out of you, breaths getting heavy at the thought of how wet you have to be by now, he sits up on his knees to hurriedly haul his shirt over his head.
His dick grows harder at the familiar picture of you, laid back on the sofa, eyes glazed with drunken want and the remembrance of his feverish touch on you.
Letting your hands roam his chest and firm abdomen while he disposes of the shirt, you curl your fingers into the waistband of his sweatpants and boxers, carefully dragging them down his bulky thighs, eyes widening as his cock springs upwards from the grey fabric, hitting his stomach before ever-so-slightly bending to the right under its generous weight.
You let yourself fall back into the cosy corner of the couch, parting your legs with lascivious speed while watching him stroke his now glistening cock, eyes trained on yours.
A vigorous, bulging forearm anchors next to your head, the other guiding himself inside you. His mountainous shoulders block any view of the room aside from him, and you obey the impulse to run your hands over his biceps, his pecs, his jaw.
You draw in a sharp breath at the contact of his fat tip on your wet folds, rubbing into the dampness at the entrance before breaching you.
You whimper softly, trying to adjust. No matter how many times you have sex, it always takes you time to adapt to his size, to fit him inside you to the hilt.
His forehead rests against yours as he pushes further in, a gentle hand coming to collect a few unruly strands of hair from your face. It stops to cup your fiery, rosy cheek, his thumb grazing your dainty skin protectively, soothingly, before his arm docks symmetrically to the other, beside your head to balance his weight on top of you.
Your tear-welled eyes flutter shut, the dip between your brows deepening and rising into an unspoken plea for a one-second pause. He stops, knowing of your struggles despite your fervent insistences that he may always bottom out regardless of your aches.
He cannot bring himself to cause you discomfort in any way, even under the greenlight of your sincere consent.
âI know, love, Iâm sorry.â, he pacifies you, and youâre overwhelmed by his attentive care, starting to rain messy, fatigued kisses over each patch of skin on his face within reach. He returns the gesture in earnest, covering your features in slow smooches.
It calms you, allowing him to push all the way inside your tight cunt, grunting into your temple as you tense around his shaft the moment his tip presses against your cervix.
A loud sigh that swiftly leaves your agape mouth tells him to proceed. His hips start gyrating languidly, his dick exits you only halfway, coated in your juices, before driving back in with a quiet squelch. You throw your head back on the pillows, legs coiled securely around his waist as he makes love to you, laying you onto a cloud of pleasure.
"Ugh, oh-," he groans, his voice deep and rugged, mirroring his own mind-numbing bliss, âyou feel so goodâ. With his head now leaned into your chest, his heavy breaths are hot on your skin, timed with the drive of his hips into yours.
He starts going faster, yet the force of his thrusts still soft. The second he finds the puffy nub of nerves that snaps firecrackers in your lower belly, you grab at the mattress, gasping and moaning weakly. Muted whines are put out in your throat as you close your mouth to swallow a kiss your body had craved to give him.
His shoulders flex under his weight as he picks up more speed, nearing his high and finding the rhythm you know only leads to those desperate grunts that have you coming only from their sound alone.
He pushes into his thrusts, rubbing the coarse hair above the base of his cock on your clit. Your back contorts and arches in response, gifting him an even more delicious angle for the precise rolls of his hips.
You choke on a pained scream that dissolves into your limbs as you come hard, your orgasm washing over you in drumming tidal waves, crashing onto you with every drive of his fat cock into your soft, drenched cunt.
"Oh-- ugh, yeah- so good," he groans into your rose, kiss-marked neck, seemingly taken aback by the force of his own euphoria, as if he had been expecting a gentle current of ecstasy as result of his intendedly soft and gentle session of lovemaking, instead being met a fierce jolt of elation. He stills, holding a breath from erupting out of his throat into a shaky moan.
The bridge of his nose is pressed perfectly into your neck, a sculpture-worthy puzzle of two souls sewn together. His hot palm seeks the feeling of your smooth skin, landing shy of your waist, holding you against him with the firmness of a man who heeds every longing you had ever voiced, who heeds the closeness you had always coveted as you rode the rapids of your orgasm.
The pressure hammers into you in aftershocks, hauling you back down in fading flutters, pulsing into your lower belly as he tenses, pushing his hips flush against your ass with one final blow, releasing into the warmth of your cunt.
You clench faintly at the feeling of his fat cock spasming and twitching inside you, catching on to the last gust of your high.
He groans in oversensitivity, pulling out before carefully placing his broad hand in between your thighs, tenderly cupping your dripping pussy to prevent his come from staining the peppered grey couch. You flinch at the contact, not having fully recovered from the stimulation.
He leans into you, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. You turn to him instinctively, unable to find your voice or enough strength in your arms to do anything but gaze up at him with the face he knew so well; the euphoria-painted face you grace him with when his love overflows your body, teeming into your watery eyes.
Sitting up, he unpacks a thin, white blanket from the opposite edge of the sofa, cocooning you into the clean, fresh fabric. You hum in comfort, struggling to chase the warmth of his arms as he tucks the edges of the material underneath the contour of your body.
âJust stay here for a bit.â, he whispers into your cheek, sending shivers down your spine. â Iâm almost done with your surprise.â
âYou want me to help?â you resort to a last-chance inquiry in hopes of finding an excuse to sit beside him for longer, even in the kitchen.
He knows youâre well-intended, but decides to better value the total credit of his courteous offering.
You will most certainly keep the stakes up and stubbornly get dinner ready for him on the very next occasion you find, so he might as well echo your stubbornness and finish his task alone, meeting great satisfaction in spoiling you with the opportunity your body has given him.
âNo te preocupes, (Don't worry.) Iâll manage.â
You dramatically reach for him with your extended arms as he heads towards the kitchen. He throws you a sympathetic smile before resuming his cooking, fully aware that a considerable part of him would have wanted nothing more than to rush back into your arms and spend the rest of the evening smothering you into his warm embrace, play fighting you into submitting to his self-indulgent caresses and kisses.
divider by @cafekitsune
spanish translations by @bookished đ€(tysm!!)
50% requested by @badbitchhour (ik u wanted a wedding night but my brain short-circuited when i tried to write it, it's still coming tho!!! meanwhile made the very soft and emotional lovemaking part til i get around it and start feeling it)
a/n: don't pick on me for the extremely creative! title i wanted to make shit clear from the start. (clickbaiting)
also smut authors try not to use the same words and phrases for every sex scene without using things like 'wand' and 'shaft' (challenge impossible)
#miguel o'hara#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o'hara smut#miguel oâhara x reader#miguel o'hara imagine#miguel ohara x reader#miguel ohara#atsv miguel#miguel o hara#miguel o'hara x reader one shot#miguel smut#miguel o'hara x you#miguel oâhara smut#miguel spiderverse#miguel spiderman#miguel x reader#spiderman 2009#spider man 2099#spiderman 2099#spiderman#spiderman 2099 x reader#across the spiderverse#spider verse
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Could I request how would Cater, Jamil, Rook and Idia react to their (s/o)âs overblot? :0
SUMMARY: your significant other, who has been part of an overblot before, has to witness you going through the exact same thing.
COMMENTS: hi so im experimenting with yuu overblotting and so. you and grim are fusing because i said so.
yk after writing this i realize i was absolutely inspired by delicious in dungeon. if you get it you get it.
Youâll have to forgive Cater if he blurts out some stupid slang or a joke as he watches ink consume your bodyâas he watches you fuse with Grim. The result is a terrifying monster, blue flames shooting out of your very human face, ink pouring out of your eyes and mouth and nose as Grim's claws grow sharper and his legs grow longer.
Heâs vaguely aware of Trey trying to get him out of there and Riddle throwing himself into a fight to attempt to disarm you and Grimâwhatever you have become. Cater isnât even sure if youâre separate anymore, but he hears your screams and the echoing growls of Grim, and the blue flames are searing his skin but he isnât budging.
He shoves Trey off of him and goes running towards you, heart pounding in his chest. He has to save you. He has to help you. His signature spell is activating and he doesnât even know heâs doing itâhe just knows he has to get you back, one way or another.
Jamil knows whatâs happening before anybody else. He can see the frustration at being treated the way you are, and he sees the way your hands shake. He tries to reach out but itâs not enough, and maybe it never would have been because heâs too late, and the air is hot with anger and longing for a home neither you nor Grim had.
You become one. He sees it and he can do nothing but watch as you sprout hairy arms and legs, claws tearing through your skin as blue flames shoot out from you. Ink spurts from your eyes and mouth, pouring onto the floor as you howl and wail. He can hear the echoing, pitched remnants of Grim in your voice as you charge, heading straight for the students. Jamil whips out his pen, pointing it in front of him and casting a barrier.
He needs to get everyone else out of here. He canât be the one to fight youâhe canât do that to you. His ears are ringing and only now is he aware of Kalim rapid firing questions at him but he doesnât have the time, he grabs Kalim and yells at him to leave, to get the Headmage, to get you help. You canât die on him. You just canât.
Rook thinks youâre beautiful. He always will, no matter what state you may find yourself in, no matter what form you may take. Thatâs part of the reason he stands there in awe, watching as you transform in front of his very eyes. Tears are rolling down his face as you scream out in pain, and his body reacts by running to you but someone is holding him back, his sobs mixing with you and Grimâs howls as you merge in a tornado of inky blackness.
People are screaming, someone is yelling that he needs to get out of there, he falls to his knees as your formâno, the form youâve taken, writhes and screeches on the ground. It sounds like nails on a chalkboard, it sounds like nightmares, it sounds like pain and suffering and like nothing will ever be okayâ
Two backs appear in his vision, a perfectly manicured hand shielding his vision from the sight. Rook looks up, eyes locking with Vilâs. Epel is beside him, pen at the ready. âCan you stand?â Vil asks, and anyone else wouldnât be able to hear the tenderness in his voice. Rook takes his hand and stands, breathing shakily as he stares at your form, vision blurry but locked onto youâheâs going to save you, no matter what.
Idiaâs hands are shaking as you scream. He needs to go to you, to make sure youâre okay but heâs petrified, feet tripping over nothing as he stumbles to your side. He reaches out for you but you shove him away, a sharp NO ripped from your throat. Idia swallows his tears as he whips out his tablet, sending an SOS message to STYX as a familiar black ink splatters to the ground at his feet.
You tried to protect him. It makes him feel so worthless but he gets through it, knowing this must have been how you felt when he overblotted. Why canât he do anything right? He went through the same thing and he canât do anything to help you. Isnât this his familyâs business? He should know what to do by now!
He doesnât leave from that spot, even when people are screaming at him to evacuate, even when STYX arrives to take you away, even when Ortho explains the situation to them because Idia canât talk. The only thing he manages to say, with eyes glued to the malformed shape youâve taken, is that he demands to be taken back with you to his home so he can oversee your treatment. He needs you to be better. He doesnât know what heâd do otherwise.
#auburn's fics <3#twst#twst wonderland#twisted wonderland#cater diamond#jamil viper#rook hunt#idia shroud#cater diamond x reader#jamil viper x reader#idia shroud x reader#cater diamond angst#jamil viper angst#rook hunt angst#idia shroud angst#twst angst#twisted wonderland angst
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Slashers! First meeting their S/O
Slashers! x gn!reader
Includes Michael Myers, Jason Voorhees, Thomas Hewitt, Vincent Sinclair
Requested? Yes
Warnings: beefy murder boyfriends, fluffy shit, pre-relationship stuff, love at first sight, mentions of murder/gore/malicious intentions, violence
Michael Myers
It was Halloween night, dark eyes through holes in a white, cast of a mask staring through the second story window of an old, decrepit house
A young boy skipping by as in a blue, capped superhero, an older couple strolling on the opposite street, arm in arm minding their own in the breezy night
Eyes cast downward as the sharp ring of a doorbell shot through the old bones of the house, glint of a butchers knife tight in the grasp of the man know silently making his way through the upper hall
âAre we even supposed to be going in here?â
âWho cares, itâs tradition to check out the Myers mansion, relaxâ
âI donât know, this feels wrong..â
Listening to what seemed to be two young adult, the shrill voice of one of them almost instantly striking the silent man with a headache
Michael watched from the shadows as the pair came into view, the louder of the two wearing her hair in tight pigtails, a cheerleader outfit splattered with what was obviously fake blood, a bad attempt at a murder victim
Ready to lumber from the darkness and strike down on the intruders, the man was struck to the spot he stood as you came into view, wearing another poorly, and clearly last minute, thrown on pirate costume
You were what he imagined when the perfect kill was dreamt, your face burned into his as your pictured screams of fear and pain died as did your fighting spirit, the knife once again tightened in his grip, knuckles turning a pale white, veins pulsing beneath taut skin
He wanted, no, needed to kill you
Even the thought alone send a bold chill of excitement through the otherwise lifeless body of his
âYou know what would be so funny-â
The girl in pigtails spoke as she flipped around the corner, the voice shrinking in her throat quickly morphing in a scream of terror as she bumped into the large, awaiting body of the infamous Michael Myers
Although her scream was also short lived as a rough hand was immediately around her throat, lifting her from her feet and slamming her back into the adjacent wall breath knocked from her body at the impact
His other hand rose, moonlight catching the long, silver blade as it was plunged deep into her stomach, twisting, turning as her throat gave up on its scream, another shriek caused the killers head to twist like an owl
There you stood, frozen in place with hands partly covering your mouth, eyes wide, not shaking, not running, just watching as the man before you brutalized your friend
But as your eyes caught each others in the dimly lit hallway, Michaels grasp on the now corpse released, body hitting the floor with a dull thud he didnt bother to pull the knife from its placed nestled between dead flesh, not even glancing down at it
Your hands slowly fell from your face, still not shaking, but clearly stressed with sweat as you wiped your hands on the fabric covering your thighs
âIâm, sorry for breaking inâ
Your voice was soft, careful but not disingenuous, Michael didnât know how to react, unable to look away or even move
His head tilted to the left, mask bunching at the bottom, he turned on his heel and made his exit through the rickety wooden door leading to the backyard, leaving the body, knife, and you alone in the corridor
As his walk through the brisk night air flooded under the neck of his mask, the killer could feel his normally emotionless face scrunch with confusion
If hearing you scream in fear wasnât what he thought he wanted from you, then what did he want from you?
He would have to investigate this sudden curiosity closely
Jason Voorhees
Jason was tirelessly indulging the day by sitting on the end of his cabins patio, watching the slow turn of various wild animals go by
There werenât any campers to keep him busy, nor screams and boisterous laughter of teens trying to get their rocks off on the property, just the hum of June bugs and trees swaying beneath the gentle breeze of warm weather
That was until a shrill yelp drilled into Jasonâs eardrums, bothered by the distraction from his day of calm, the man stood with shoulders squared, grabbing the awaiting machete perched against one of the patios wooden posts
Marching through the dense woods, his boots crushed leaves as he made he way to the noise from minutes earlier, hoping whoever it was was far gone
âOh my godâ
Of course they werenât though, of course whoever this was decided to stupidly wander onto private property, clearly posted in writing on multiple trees and wire fences
Although Jason hesitated when he heard something heâd never had the pleasure of catching
âYou poor thing, here I am breaking the law because of youâ
Peeking from behind the thick trunk of a large oak, Jason was surprised to see a stranger kneeling in the dirt, fingers and palms cut up with minor wounds as they attempted to unwind a helpless rabbit that seemed to have gotten itself rolled in loose barbed wire
Not minding to worry about yourself, you winced as another barb caught your finger, slicing the thin flesh there as the rabbit was freed, trotting away without a care in the world
âOkay, now which way did I come in from?â
You wondered aloud, turning on your heel to go back the direction you think you came from, hoping in get back on the hiking trail youâd left behind
Jason merely watched with confusion, no malice or really any thought behind his eyes other than the urge to, protect you, from what he wasnât sure
But he knew for certain, you werenât someone heâd be able to forget
Thomas Hewitt
Letâs get one thing straight, Thomas doesnât enjoy killing, him and his family was forced into it by Hoyt and his insatiable urge to feed and âcareâ for everyone
Most victims were easy to kill, treating him like a monster, screaming in his face curses and insults as they went out
Others he had a harder time with, the ones that just cry, plead with him for their life, promise they wonât tell the police if he lets them go
That being said, heâs never failed to kill, not once since heâs begun
That is until one summer day, when a knock at the door caught Luda Mae by surprise, wiping her wet hands on a dish towel and headed to the front door
Eyes narrowed, the older woman opened the door to reveal a young adult, you, standing there with a shy smile gracing your features, you held a pair of car keys in one hand, the other free to reach up and rub nervously at the back of your neck
âIâm sorry to bother you and, whoever else is home, but my car broke down a mile out, and Iâm unable to reach anyone on my cellâ
Luda Maes confusion turned to soft pity, a reserved grin taking over her lips as she moved to the left, a hand beckoning you in
âWell dear, thereâs a phone in the kitchen, if youâd like I can call the towns auto shop while you wait in the living roomâ
Although still shaken from being practically dropped in the middle of nowhere Texas, you made your way graciously inside, thanking the woman with kind praise as you did so
Taking a seat on one of the two sofas available, your ankles crossed as you stared down at one of the keychains dangling from your car keys
You could hear the woman in the kitchen shuffling around, although you werenât sure if you could hear anyone speaking to anyone on the phone
Curious, you slowly stood, palms sweaty as you now took a few steps from the living room, now able to hear Luda Mae speaking on the low to someone, then the sound of a corded phone clicking into its place on the wall
Heart slowing as you realized you were just being paranoid, you quickly turned on your heel to find your way back to the couch, although your trip was cut short by your feet crossing over one another, about to fall on your face when a two large hands steadied your shoulder
Gazing up, your breath caught in your throat at the absolute behemoth of a man now standing before you, a leather mask covering the bottom half of his face, thick brows furrowing as you simply continued to stare with wonder up at him
âThank youâ
Was all you could manage, voice catching as you realized your body was practically pressed up against his
âThere you are dear, oh look I see youâve met my youngest boy Tommyâ
Luda Mae spoke as she entered the room, knowing look on her face as she coyly added fuel to the current fire
Pulling yourself up right and out of Thomasâ grasp, your hot face was focused on the older woman in hopes the man wouldnât notice your sudden fluster
âUnfortunately our only truck is out with my other son, so I was thinking my boy here could be so kind as to walk you to the auto shop, youâll be safe with him, promiseâ
You didnât notice the way Thomasâ eyes followed you, too focused on thinking about being alone with a man as attractive as the one quietly standing beside you
âYouâre not worried are you?â
Luda seemed to test you, but it went right over your head as you shook your head no
âHe seems very reliableâ
You smiled up at Thomas, unable to catch the skip in his chest as you did so
Luda Mae could only grin at the sight, ready to call up Hoyt and tell him to leave this stranger alone, as she could see a future blooming before her eyes
Vincent Sinclair
Vincent wasnât one to leave his studio unless absolutely necessary, and even in those cases he didnât, it wasnât pleasant for the man
Until Bo brought home a guest, someone shaking and blindfolded as he manhandled the poor soul, although the stranger wasnât screaming nor fighting, it was as if theyâd completely given up, or knew it wouldnât help
Vincent watched silently as his brother forced you to the ground, your knees surely hurting as they made contact with the hard, concrete floor
âDo you know what happens to people that wander where they donât belong?â
Bo questioned menacingly, although he had a playful glint in his eye Vincent had never seen before
Silently creeping up behind his twin, the long haired man narrowed his eyes as he scanned what he could see in the dim, candle lit room of your face
The obvious old, dried tears that had found their way down your cheeks were still shining, creating lines over your soft skin
You looked to be carved of marble, painted with delicate strokes and framed with care, you were a work of art, and he hadnât even seen your eyes yet
Placing a deft hand on Boâs shoulder, the two exchanged looks, the shorter haired twin groaning in annoyance, although that look from before was still in his eye
Right as he was turning to take his leave, he leaned closer to Vincent, whispering to him as he passed
âI took one glance and knew youâd like them, guess I was rightâ
Then he was gone, foot steps disappearing as he left up the basement stairway
Vincent cautiously walked closer to you, noticing how you flinched back a bit when he made a move to pull your blindfold up, doing it slowly as to not startle you
Your watery eyes fell on his masked face, brows furrowing slightly as you glanced around the room
Vincentâs mouth soured at the idea that you were looking for Bo, of course you would be, what new comer in town wasnât, until
âIs that man from before gone?â
Youâd whispered, and if your sweet voice didnât send Vincent into a flutter of strange emotions, your next words at the nod of, âyesâ, Vincent gave you did
âGood, he scares meâ
He merely nodded, unsure of how to act
âIs he going to come back?â
Vincent shrugged
Your shifted so you were sitting, wincing at the ache in your legs, eyes nervous but no longer afraid, you looked to the silent man before you
âWill you, stay here if he comes back?â
Vincent had never been so quick to nod a, âyesâ
Sorry Iâve been gone for so long, but Iâm back now! Iâm working on what is currently in my requests but feel free to send in more!
^ me returning after being inactive for 6 months
#slasher#thomas hewitt#vincent sinclair#michael myers#slasher x reader#jason voorhees#slashers x reader insert#slashers x gn reader#slashers x reader#thomas hewitt fanfic#thomas hewitt x reader#jason voorhees x reader#Jason Voorhees fanfic#michael myers x reader#Michael Myers fanfic#vincent sinclair x reader#vincent sinclair fanfic
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This was supposed to be a short rambling and ended up turning into a mini fic lol. I know the tense shifts, I know it's sloppy lol
Anyway, Simon has a sweetheart who gets kidnapped and gets to meet "Ghost" for the first time.
The first time you meet Ghost, it's supposed to be carefully planned and controlled. After all, Simon was so worried about opening that part of himself up to you. To you, he was Simon. Soft, introverted, sweet, desperately trying to break a cycle of generational trauma. You had never met Ghost.
But, of course, nothing in Simon's life can go according to plan, and when you have people that mean something to you, they become weaknesses. So, when you get kidnapped by a Russian military company with the intel that you were important to Task Force-141? Ghost has already burnt down the world once, you're sure as hell that he would do it again for his love. So, when you meet Ghost, it isn't carefully rehersed and planned like Simon wanted. No.
Instead, you're terrified, bound, and gagged on a cold concrete floor wearing little more than your skivvies as tears stream down your face. Then, out of the blue, gunfire and shouting rings through the halls. Stealth be damned, as soon as their cover is blown, you know that Ghost will fight like a rabbit animal. He barges into your cell, tackling a man against the wall with a knife to his throat and a gun at his head.
Those eyes that had looked at you so softly and tenderly were completely unrecognizable when they were this wide and intense, wild with bloodlust. "Where is the girl?" He spits out in fluent Russian before his eyes catch sight of you.
'BANG'
A single bullet through the soldiers' skull, splattering Ghost with even more viscera and gray matter. Ghost doesn't even seem phased as he holsters his pistol and pulls away, letting the body drop with a sickening thud. He walks brazenly up to you, but pauses as he notices the way you frantically back yourself into the corner, trying desperately to stay away from this monster who had surely come to drag you from one hell to the next.
Then, he crouches down and outstretches a gentle hand to you, letting you come to him. He called your name so sweetly, and that was a voice you recognized. You tried to muffle out his name through the rag shoved into your mouth and tied around your head. That earned a low chuckle, a dangerous one that you hadn't heard before. "Not quite, love. Ghost. Now, let's get you home, eh?"
Ghost. The name echoed in your mind, bouncing around as you tried to remember where you had heard it before. Your eyes flicked over to the corpse splayed in the doorway of your cell, making you nearly vomit in your mouth before looking away. Ghost shifted closer, using the knife still in his hand to cut through the rough ropes binding you. "Bloody hell... idiots didn't even use chains, could have escaped right easy, you could of." Ghost muttered, mostly to himself. The words were terrifying to hear.
He reached to untie your gag next, a chuckle rumbling lowly in his chest as you flinch away. He gives you half a second to compose yourself before he unceremoniously rips the gag off of you and tosses it to the side. Red marks are etched into your cheeks where the gag had dug in, and the sight makes Ghost seeth. "Oh, love..." His words are soft, but his tone is enraged, as if those marks alone could start his new crusade.
"LT!" Blue eyes and a neatly groomed Warhawk pop into the door, stepping casually over the corpse as the new face made his way over to you. "This her, LT?" A thick Scottish accent was present, along with a bit of thinly veiled appreciation. "Off limits Johnny, this is her. This is my girl."
Whenever Simon called you his, it was soft and reverent, as if astonished that he could call someone so precious his. But when Ghost said it? It was commanding, possessive, and left no room for argument. You were his. And that thought was almost scary.
Ghost wasted no more time, scooping you up into his arms and making their way quickly through the facility you had only caught glances of while Ghost and Johnny talked in some military jargon you didn't understand.
That's when you noticed it.
Even though Ghost was holding you so tight and close, even though his touches seemed so rough and careless, even though he was splattered with all sorts of blood and viscera, you had none of it on you. Ghost had been so careful with his touches, with how he held you, determined not to stain and taint your delicate skin with the fuel to his fire, the essence of his soul. And that was quite possibly when you realized that 'Simon' and 'Ghost' were merely two sides of the same coin. And they were both yours as much as you were theirs. his.
#call of duty#ghost cod#cod x reader#cod mw2#cod mwii#cod#simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#simon ghost x reader#fanfiction#fanfic#x reader#x you#imagine#ramblings#drabble#i just think hes neat#lil split personality#lil unhealthy coping mechanism#lil skull boy#he's careful#because you're fragile#to him at least#Anyone played the âCall Of Thirstâ Demo?#it's super short#but omg#support
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You are Made to Greet them When they Return Home
Yandere! Forced marriage x fem! Reader head canons
Ft: Childe and Scaramouche
Synopsis: Your yanderes require the domestic pleasure of being greeted by their wife when they return home.
Word Cound: 1k
TW: yandere, obsessive themes, forced marriage, NSFW themes, mentions of previous abuse/punishment
Childe
âMaster Childe has arrived home,â a maid said after knocking gently on your bedroom door. A notice to anyone else, but a warning for you. A warning telling you to be your most joyful and happy self, to be ready for your husband that had a temper that could change like the flick of a light switch.
Your nicest dress hugged your body, a satin slip in his favorite shade of blue. It barely went past your plush thighs, something too cold for the typical Snezhnaya air, but perfect for the inside of the estate, which he kept warm for you.
Scurrying down the stairs, your heels clicked against the floor. No matter how many times you'd done this, your heart wouldn't cease beating like a drum. The fear and the worry all sat deep inside your chest and made you tremble, but you tried to not show it on your face.
Arriving at the door to the home, you stood there obediently, as you'd been told to do time and time before. You and a few of the house maids. And almost right on cue, it opened.
For the briefest moment while the door was open, you could hear the sound of the wind howling outside, like screams of the night. A little snow blew through the door, and tickled your toes, but it melted as quickly as it showed up. All that stood there now was him.
Snow covered his coat and frosted the tips of his orange hair, but he still had a beaming smile on his face, overjoyed to see you. âMy angel,â he said sweetly at the sight of you.
You were pulled into an embrace, his gloved hands still wet from the elements. He kissed your cheek, his cold red nose tickling you, and you tried not to notice the blood splatter near his neck that he didn't clean off. No matter how domestic he tried to make your life together seem, he could never truly hide what he did for work.
When he pulled away from the hug, you began to take off his cape. No maid was allowed to do this, as he said that undressing him was a job for his wife and his wife alone. It was a heavy, white piece of clothing, with black fur on the nape. He'd always smile at you as you undid the clasp, his height dwarfing over you to the point where you had to reach up to touch his neck.
âWas work okay todayâŠâ you gulped down saliva nervously as the cape fell into your hands, the weight of it making your arms sag just a bit. He had a questioning look on his face, raising his eyebrows while his smile began to falter ever so slightly. He wanted you to say the rest. âWas work okay today, m-my love?â you barely managed to force yourself to say those words. You could already feel the bile rising up from your stomach, but the content look on his face told you that he was happy regardless of how strained you sounded.
His large cape was handed to a maid to be cleaned and she ran off without word of orders. You weren't the only one scared of Childe in this house, you were just the one who had his attention.
You didn't even get the chance to completely turn and face him again before he was wrapping his arms around you and resting his body against you in a dramatic display of his fatigue.
âWork was tiresome!â He groaned while placing many unwanted kisses on your cheek and neck, âBut my beautiful wife will make it all better, won't you?â
Scaramouche
Such a beautiful, vibrantly colored kimono was nice for special occasions, but it only weighed you down in these instances. The multiple layers piled on top of each other were a pure sight for eyes, but absolute hell to wear. Especially for someone who wasn't native to Inazuma.
You struggled to drop to your knees in front of the door. It felt like all of these layers were swallowing you whole, and with one wrong move, you wouldnât be able to get up. Not without assistance at least.
The lighting outside illuminated his silhouette through the translucent white, paper of the sliding door and you hurried to make sure you were in position.
The second you heard it click and slide open, you bowed your head down before him. Your palms against the floor, thumbs in the shape of a triangle, and your forehead pressed against the ground. You'd practiced this position a million times before, with him studying your figure to make sure you got it right each and every time.
âWe welcome you home, my lord, Scaramouche,â you said with your head still angled towards the floor. He merely hummed at your greeting. A hum was good, it meant that you hadn't displeased him yet.
You were to stay in this position until he told you to rise. Some days he did it immediately, so that he could begin to kiss and undress you like an animal in heat. Other days, he would leave you there to see how long he could keep you on your knees before him. Those days were hell, the weight of the kimono made it feel as if you were suffocating, drenching yourself in sweat. But you knew better than to move an inch. Being crushed by heavy fabric was better than any punishment he'd given you before.
You could hear the sound of him shuffling, taking off his shoes and putting away his jacket, then finally, you heard the familiar jingles of him lifting his ornate hat off of his head, and handing it off to a maid who also stood beside you.
âYou may look upon me,â he ordered.
You rose up, but still stayed on your knees in front of him, finally meeting his gaze for the first time today, âGreetings, my lord. Did the day treat you alright?â
âMy day was the same as usual,â he muttered while stepping past you and up the stairs, âMeet me in the bedroom, and bring tea as well.â
When you heard the familiar click of the bedroom door closing, you breathed a sigh of relief. You'd made it through another moment with him, but still rose to your feet with hesitance. Making it through the greeting was the first part, now you'd have to manage in the bedroom.
#yandere genshin#genshin#genshin x reader#yandere genshin impact#yandere genshin x reader#yandere scaramouche x reader#yandere scaramouche#yandere childe x reader#yandere childe#x reader#yandere x reader
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Maniac: OT8!Stray Kids x Reader
genre: a/b/o au, omegaverse, medieval au, ot8 x reader, pack dynamics, afab!reader, smut and angst and fluff
summary: you're your pack's only omega - when your alphas are taken from you, you refuse to rest until you're reunited with them
A/N: i loved writing this so come get your food i hope u guys like it <33
tw: 18+, a lot of smut (p in v, bath sex, knots and all that a/b/o shit, mentions of breeding ofc, 1 accidental pass out, oral - m&f recieving, face fucking, so much cum oh god, crying during sex, bit of mxm at points, somno but not much, lots of praise, one instance of finger sucking, manhandling, overstimulation, a spank, no mentioned protection because sorry it's medieval times, back scratching and biting, creampie, reader basically gets run a train on, a few 3some type things, dw there is also soft smut, guys please pee after sex), gore, blood, death, fighting, evil creepy dude, mention of past trauma, swearing, mistreatment of omegas, half assed editing, porn plot 50-50 split i reckon
wc: 12.98k
The moment the heavy wooden door of the smithy splinters and gives way, you bolt upright. Minho is already out of bed, the sheets still warm from where he was lying beside you, and you catch the glint of steel in his hand as he stands by the window, peering out at the street below; Seungmin is gone, his side of the mattress cold. Your heart stutters, and you stiffen at the all too familiar musky scent that permeates the air, rising up from between the rickety floorboards.
âGoemul?â You ask.
Minho nods grimly. âWho else?â
âFuck. He wonât leave me alone, will he?â
âWe wonât let him anywhere near you,â he replies, voice low and full of anger.
You squeeze your eyes shut when Minho tucks an arm around your waist and presses you to him, pushing your nose into his neck; breathing in his scent - rain and sweet vanilla - you allow yourself a moment of comfort in his strong embrace before breaking away. A crash sounds below, and you grab your staff.
Jisung bursts in. You smell the fight on him before you see the bruising blooming across his face; thereâs adrenaline spiking his scent and blood splattered across his front - not his, you note with relief. Thereâs a wild look in his eyes, the same look you saw the first time Goemul came for you.
âHeâs back, and with more troops,â he gasps. âChan says - â
A chilling battle cry rings out, cutting him off.
Ice skitters down your spine. None of your pack are arrogant enough to have a signature war cry - thereâs only one person that could be. Minho visibly bristles, his fingers flexing on the hilt of his sword before he shoulders open the bedroom door and you hear his footsteps pound down the stairs. You move to follow, but Jisung grabs your wrist.
âChan says you have to go. You need to run.â
You scoff. âAbsolutely not. This is my pack.â
An edge enters Jisungâs voice. âAnd youâre our omega.â
You give him a look and he can see thereâs no way he can convince you - you sprint down the stairs, him hot on your heels. Immediately, the smell of the fight overwhelms you as your feet hit the floor: at least twenty other alphas versus your eight, and a few betas fighting amongst the enemy too. Face twisted fiercely and teeth bared, Hyunjin barrels by, slashing at a stocky, snarling alpha with a rusted sword. Itâs one of the ones Felix had scavenged for melting down, and you can see the wooden hilt is rotting.
Without hesitation, you raise your hand, and the attack runes painted there for an occasion just like this glow azure blue, so bright theyâre almost white, and the alpha collapses, his heart ruptured in his chest. Panting, Hyunjin glances up and gives you a nod before diving back into battle, aiding Jeongin with the two betas tag teaming him.
You thrust yourself into the melee, fighting with both a sword you snatch off a fallen knight and your runes and staff. Energy begins to flow from you, leaking from your soul each time you use your runes - youâre careful to rotate your usage of the different ones inscribed on your skin, making sure you donât tire a specific one, yet still you feel the itch of their overuse, and the knights pouring in arenât thinning.
You catch sight of Goemul through the grappling bodies, and a flash of pure fear rivets you to the spot despite yourself. Heâs locked in combat with Chan, but the spike in your scent catches both their attention, Goemulâs roar piercing through the sound of clashing blades. Chan hands seamlessly over to Changbin, and you feel his gaze pinpoint on you as he cuts through any attackers that try to stop him as he approaches.
You try to ignore his insistent stare, instead whacking one of the intruders over the head with your staff and forcefully bringing your knee up into his stomach. Chan is sweaty, his shoulders heaving from the fight, and guilt stings your chest - if it wasnât for you, Goemul and his pack wouldnât be here.
âI thought I told Jisung to tell you to run.â
His voice is rough, raspy no doubt from shouting orders to the boys, and nearly drowned out from the din of the fight, yet you hear him clearly, attuned to the sound of your pack leaderâs voice.
âI wanted to stay and fight. Itâs my fault, anyway.â
âThis is not your fault,â Chan snaps. âWe all knew Goemul would come after you.â
âAnd yet you took me in anyway,â you mutter.
He gives you a sharp look. âYou need to run. Weâre not going to last much longer. Weâre tired, and we werenât expecting it. We need you to break us out when they take us prisoner.â
You donât think about the other option, the option that doesnât include taking prisoners and includes death, instead breathing out an anxious: âWhat if I canât?â
âI know you can. I trust you, omega.â
Even in the midst of a fight, Chan knows what to say to put you at ease. He knows what is needed to look after his pack, and you know that he knows this, without doubt. You can see that your alphas are tiring, can see that this attack came as a surprise - Changbin is fighting with a hammer used for shaping swords, for fuckâs sake.
You swallow thickly. âI love you, Channie. Keep them safe, please. Keep yourself safe.â
Curtly, he nods. No promises. You turn on your heel and run.
Youâve been told all your life that omegas donât fight, that omegas arenât fierce. Omegas donât retaliate, and they take whatever theyâre given by their alphas without complaint.
Too bad thatâs all been proven official bullshit.
The night is hostile. Clouds scuttle across the sky, polluting the moonâs pure silver light, and the soggy leaves beneath your feet muffle your footsteps - itâs cold, dark, damp, but youâre kept warm by the hot fury that youâve been nursing since that night, knotted in a ball nestled right beside your heart.
Leaves are flattened beneath your boots. Wind weaves its way thinly through the tree trunks, singing lowly to itself. The stars are blotted from the sky, the moon a thin, faltering sliver. You walk onwards, staff sturdy against your palm.
Tonight is a perfect night for revenge.
Tonight youâre going to make sure Goemul leaves your pack alone for good, and tonight youâre going to make sure that youâre reunited with your alphas. It doesnât matter that youâre an omega - you will fight. You can fight.
Your staff is testament to that. So are the attack runes painted in practised calligraphy on both your hands, the black ink winding up your forearms - youâve added more since your alphas were taken from you, enough to extinguish the possibility of exhausting all of them. There are runes to boil a manâs brain in his skull, runes to explode his lungs even as he draws breath, runes made so you can protect your pack.
You are also half feral with the beginnings of your heat.
Blood rushes through your body, your heart pumping so hard in your chest you think it may punch through your ribs; your pupils are fully dilated, anticipating the fight. Thereâs a roaring in your ears, and intertwined in the thunderous, earsplitting noise of it is an insistent whisper: protect, protect, protect.
Thereâs no preventing this timing. Every second you spend without your pack, they could be hurting, bleeding, worse. All the preheat does is give you a vicious edge - the desperation of a cornered animal, the strength of one who has nothing else to lose.
You think this is what your ancestors must have felt, back when there were no cities, no castles made of rock, no swords or books, just the primal urge to hunt and fight and protect. You wonder if they smile down on you. You wonder if they slip silently across the narrow path before you, guiding you with ghostly hands, spurring you forward, closer to your pack, closer to the keep.
Closer to Goemul.
Once, he owned you. Owned you, because he does not believe omegas can belong - they can only be owned. You would spend nights curled on the stone floor, trying to rid yourself of his awful scent, nights where you would stare up at the pitiless rafters - even they smelt like him, wishing you were anywhere but where you were.
And then came Seungmin, carrying with him the scent of warm embers and freedom.
Somehow, here you are again, back on Goemulâs territory. You knew he wouldnât let you go easily; you are proof to those he crushes beneath his boot heels that there is an escape.
There are two knights posted outside the keepâs wide wooden doors - thankfully ones that wonât recognise you. Faintly, you can hear the sounds of a feast within, yellow light spilling out into the night. Overhead, the clouds coalesce, and something in the air sharpens - the first patter of rain hits the tree canopy, muting your footsteps as you step forward.
âHalt,â one of the guards commands. âState your purpose.â
âIâm just a blacksmith, sir,â you reply meekly. âLooking to sell my wares to the lord and his men.â
The other guard grunts, sending a nod to the one who spoke, and swings open a hatch set in the big doors, the hinges groaning in protest. Ducking your head, you step into the great hall: itâs a huge, cavernous room made of rough, dark granite with flaming sconces fixed to the walls and violent tapestries hung between them; itâs where Goemul receives his guests.
Just the sight of the place makes your stomach turn, but itâs the heavy stench of musk that forces you to hide the shaking of your hands in the folds of your cloak. The musk in Goemulâs scent is heavy and suffocating, like a dirty, soaked blanket dumped discourteously over oneâs head - nothing like Chanâs.
You glance around the hall. There are about three alphas to every omega in the room; the latter are interspersed throughout the former, either chained or collared - something that you remember all too well. Two lounge on the podium beneath Goemulâs chair, which is really more of a throne with its gaudy ornate carvings, their hands on him, their eyes brimming with fear.
You remember that, too.
And there, in the corner, you see them. Your nails dig into your palms. Your pack. Your pack. Crammed in a tiny cage, chained to a ring set in the wall, curled against each other. Nothing can hide the anger that rises in your scent when you see that Chan has pushed his way to the front, protecting his boys, bruises flowering across his face and neck and arms, dried blood smeared on his tattered shirt.
You know Goemul. You know that the cage is purpose built to hold prisoners used for entertainment.
Unmistakable now, fury soars on you, permeating the smell of the feast, permeating Goemulâs pungent musk.
Slowly, heads begin to turn. They donât recognise you - youâve masked your scent with runes scrawled down your collarbones and ringing your wrists, written over twice to hide the smell of your preheat. Still, they stare, with a sort of reluctant curiosity.
âA blacksmith, my lord,â one of the guards announces from behind you.
Goemul narrows his eyes, trying to see your face from the shadows of your hood. âWhat for?â
âLooking to sell her wares, she said.â
He guffaws, and the sound of laughter ripples through those sitting at the banqueting table even though they donât know whatâs amusing him. Slowly, he gets to his feet, the two omegas scrambling to give him space - you see the glint of a chain pulling tight, fixed to the base of the podium. The guard beside you shuffles his feet nervously. Somewhere within the darkened cage, you swear you see someone stir.
âWhat wares, guard?â
Gleefully, Goemul inhales like heâs feasting upon the guardâs fear as he realises you carry nothing, just the staff in your hand. You hear his muttered curse, the whoosh of air when he takes in a hurried breath, preparing to spill out apologies, not knowing how this has raised his lordâs wrath so intensely but knowing that he needs to beg and scrape if he wants to live.
âLeave.â
Goemulâs voice hasnât even finished ringing through the hall before the guard is tripping over himself to slam the hatch behind him, not waiting to see if his lord will withdraw his mercy. Slowly, Goemul settles back down on his throne, the omegas assuming their previous positions, their hands running over his legs as if to appease his anger.
You let your cowl fall back, revealing your features.
A murmur ripples through Goemulâs men.
He waits until theyâre quiet. Around the room, the omegas watch you with wide eyes - you know they recognise you, you know theyâre wondering why you would ever choose to return to this cursed place. Nearest to you, one jerks his head a little, as if to tell you to run.
âI knew youâd come crawling back, my omega,â he grins, smiling with too many teeth. âAlthough, I guess I do have something of yours, donât I?â
âI am not yours, Goemul,â you hiss.
Lightning flares outside, followed by a strident clap of thunder.
âYour pack is, though,â he chuckles. âWe had so much fun together, little omega. Channie and I are well acquainted now, since we had our nice pack leader to pack leader conversation.â
âYou keep his name out your mouth,â you snap.
âHe bled a lot, though,â Goemul muses, faking thoughtfulness. âI canât seem to understand why.â
His dark eyes bore into yours, waiting to see your response. You can tell that he knows his goading is getting to you - heâs smiling that infernal smile, the one that makes you want to peel his skin from his bones and force it down his throat with a dagger.
Outside, thunder growls, low and furious.
You raise your staff. âYou leave me no choice.â
Eyes locked on his, you bring it down. The oakwood hits the stone floor with a sound far louder than it should be, as if the very rock beneath your feet has split, rended apart down to the Earthâs very core. A muffled whoompf follows, and one by one, the torches in the sconces are snuffed out by an unseen force. Darkness descends.
All around, you sense scents spiking - they may be Goemulâs men, but they still feel fear; you doubt any of them have met someone who wields sorcery, let alone an omega. A hush falls over the hall, loaded with the anticipation before a fight.
âA little bit of shadow wonât scare us, omega,â Goemul calls.
You donât reply. Youâre busy stalking silently across the room, a key in your hand. It doesnât matter that itâs not the one from the ring on Goemulâs belt - itâs covered all over with unlocking runes moulded right into the metal, something you forged yourself.
Thereâs a tinge of wild anger in Goemulâs voice when he speaks again. âOmega?â
When you reach through the bars of the cage, a warm, calloused hand is already waiting. Now that youâre close, you can smell their individual scents, the hurt and the exhaustion on them. Your eyes have adjusted to the gloom just enough that you can see Felix curled against Changbin, and although theyâre both smiling proudly at you, eyes fierce, you can see the pain in their faces too. It sets bitter anger roiling within you, as deep and wrathful as the storm outside.
You know Goemul is listening. You hope he is, as the sound of a key in a lock and the clatter of chains rings out through the room. You hope he feels the control slipping through his desperate, clawing fingers as nervous whispers riffle through the great hall, as alphas reach for their swords, disbelieving that Goemul failed to make a single, lone omega submit to him.
And then, low and menacing and crystal clear, Chan growls.
You feel everyone in the hall freeze at the sound. There are no words to the deep rumble vibrating in his chest, just the white hot, primal fury of a leader whose pack has been hurt. Simply the tone of it roots half the men in the hall to the spot, the hairs on the backs of their necks rising, their palms slick with sweat as they stare wide eyed into the darkness.
âGoemul,â Chan snarls, stepping from the cage. âI swear I will not rest until you are dead.â
The last part comes out as a roar, and with it, chaos descends.
Before the echo of Chanâs voice has even died down, air whooshes past you - what must be Changbin and Minho shooting out of the cage. A strangled cry sounds as they finish off the closest two alphas, wrenching their swords from their belts to fight with. Someoneâs hand brushes your waist as the rest of your pack members swiftly exit the cage: Felix, by the gentle scent of violets that washes over you, and yet on it you can almost taste the yearning to fight.
Your alphas are not vengeful. Protective, however, is a different story, and as each of their unique scents spread out across the room, meeting Goemulâs alphas that slash out blindly with their swords blow for blow, you know each of them are thinking of what all of you have gone through under Goemulâs orders.
Above it all, Goemulâs battle cry rings out, but you donât flinch, donât bat an eyelash - youâre ready for him this time, fresh runes all over your skin. Your alphas may be injured, but theyâve been cooped up in a too small cage for almost a week and theyâre sure as hell fucking angry.
A feverish, clammy hand grabs your wrist. Hot air laced with the stink of ale puffs against your cheek. âWitch.â
You take a step forward, stabbing out with the butt of your staff and catching your attacker in the stomach. A throng of them have formed around you, angry and growling and still reeling that one omega has caused this much havoc, their movements uncoordinated and laced with more fear than any of them would ever admit.
Under the low illumination of the lightning strikes, you can just about see theyâve made a ring around you. Maybe they think that their numbers will prevail over your sorcery and theyâve got a quick kill, because some of them are smiling as if the fightâs already over. You almost feel sorry for them.
Almost.
As you strike out with your staff, you think of Chan, welcoming you into his pack, back when all you could do around alphas was flinch - patient, soft spoken Channie, bloodied by Goemul and his men from shielding the boys with his body, half conscious from the violence.
You think of Minho as you break a manâs nose, Minho who said little to begin with but would always be silently checking on you, making sure you were comfortable, leaving you an extra blanket in winter before he eventually slept by your side, his body warm against yours, currently with a split lip and cracked ribs.
You knock a manâs sword from his hand, catching it in your own, and think of Changbin, always there to make you smile and feel safe with his big arms and tight hugs, always acting tough but in truth all soft and gooey on the inside, his knuckles now bloodied and face twisted in pain.
While you cut down another alpha that runs at you, you think of Hyunjin, who calls you his muse, who crafts the most beautiful ornate daggers back at the smithy, and who gave you his favourite one with a sweet kiss on your forehead and a promise to never leave you, painted with bruises that spread wide over his back.
Your stolen blade clashes against an attackerâs as you think of Jisung, your Jisung who never fails to make you laugh, never fails to wrap his arms around you from behind when you need it most, beaten until he blacked out, his eyes almost swollen shut from the bruising.
The runes painted on your palms glow bright while you think of Felix, who baked you sweet treats and wiped your tears every day that they fell, who healed your soul with his sunshine smile, nose bloody and near broken from repeated blows.
Fatigue makes your arm tremble as you swing your sword, but you fight on, thinking of Seungmin, who was the first to find you, the first to plant the seed of hope, always the one who dispels your doubts with the sureness of his words, his head now bowed and teeth gritted to fight to keep down the cry that builds within him from the pain.
Your blade gets stuck between an alphaâs ribs, so you whirl your staff in your hands and think of Jeongin, sweet, sweet Jeongin who would hold your hand after the nightmares, whispering reassurances and holding you until you could fall asleep again, his big hands carding through your hair, bloodied and beaten for nothing but sport.
You fight, and as you do, you think of your alphas. You let the insistent whisper from before rise to become a roar, rise to drown out the sounds of the battle: protect, protect, protect. It burns like liquor as it rushes through your veins, and you find it strengthens you, even as the energy spills from you through the usage of your runes; it guides your blade, guides your staff, ensuring your strikes hit home.
And then, all of a sudden, no oneâs attacking you any more.
No one is running at you with swords, derisive words on their lips, no one is throwing punches at you or trying to sweep your legs out from under you so they can kick you when youâre down. You sway a little, half expecting someone to appear out of nowhere, but all the remaining alphas subservient to Goemul are fighting elsewhere or have fled - they werenât prepared, instead lulled into a false sense of safety within their own keep. Thereâs a ring of bodies slumped on the floor around you.
Something wrenches in your gut, twisting. A warning: your heat will be upon you soon - the longest you have left is a few hours. Sweat suddenly pricks at your body. You need to finish this, and quickly.
Chan blurs by, exchanging hurled punches and vicious kicks with Goemul. Youâre leaning against your staff for support, catching your breath, but as three alphas dive into the melee, clawing at Chanâs back and hauling him off Goemul, and as you spot the two omegas, still chained to the podium and cowering under a half collapsed table, unable to escape, you find you arenât really that tired after all.
Youâre on Goemul within seconds.
He grins. âHello again, my little omega - â
You punch him across the face. Hard. His head snaps to the side, and you grab his shirt, slamming him once, twice against the hard, unforgiving floor of his great hall, savage red fog hazing your vision, not letting up even when you feel the crunch of his nose beneath your knuckles.
âYouâre stupid, Goemul,â - you spit the name heâs created for himself - âfor underestimating omegas. You think youâre destined to lord over us all, when all you are is a fucking scared little pup clinging to control and power you donât deserve.â
Despite it all, he laughs, and blood glistens on his teeth. âYouâre driving yourself crazy, little omega. I can smell the heat on you - you canât kill me if your body needs my knot. All you need to do is to ask for it, sweet thing, and Iâll give it to you.â
Your grip on him falters, and he flips you, pinning you to the floor beneath him. Struggling against his grip, you thrash, your careful runes long forgotten, crimson rolling in like mist over the hills, and something wide and primal yawns open within you - your lips pull back, and you bare your teeth at him, pupils dilating as you lurch your head forward, snapping at his throat.
Goemul dodges just in time, holding you at arms length even as you claw at his face and neck. All you can hear is protect, protect, protect and the hidden voice beneath it saying kill him and end it, make him pay, do it for the pack, for your alphas.
His eyes widen. âYouâre a maniac.â
You look up, over his shoulder, past him, your laugh chilling. âYes.â
Impossibly, his eyes open further, bulging, and a low, strained gurgle sounds from deep in his throat. Trembling, one of his hands comes up to his chest, and he looks down, surprise and fear contorting his features as his finger gets sliced open on the tip of the blade protruding from between his collarbones.
Goemulâs eyes roll back, and his body slumps over you, deadweight. Dazed, you gaze up at Jeongin, admiring his handsome features, albeit splattered with gore from the fight and covered with a look of disgust as he places a foot on Goemulâs back and wrenches his sword out. It makes a wet, sucking sound as it goes, and your alpha dumps the sword on the floor in favour of heaving the cooling body off you and pulling you into his arms.
Mint and lavender, clean and fresh and soothing, rush at your senses as you take a deep breath in. Youâre clinging onto Jeongin so hard that it must be hurting him, but he doesnât seem to mind, holding you just as tightly to him, burying his face in your neck, his nose right against your scent gland as he just inhales.
Eventually, you jostle him, your senses coming back to you. You need to grab your staff; you can still fight, even though the ink of more than half of the writing on your hands and wrists has flaked off, the exhausted runes leaving light burns in their wake.
âWhereâs my staff?â You mumble, wriggling in his grip. âI can still - â
A hand smooths over your hair, someone coming up behind Jeongin so they can look you in the eyes from where youâre peeking over his shoulder, searching for the familiar oakwood. You blink. Itâs Minho, his eyes soft, hair a mess.
âItâs over, jagiya,â he murmurs. âYou donât have to fight any more. Weâre safe now.â
Eventually, his words echo in your head, beginning to register - over, safe now - and you go limp in Jeonginâs arms, burying your face in his shoulder and letting out a damp, shaky breath, hands fisting in his shirt. Your impending heat burns at your core, pulling you this way and that, but the nearness of your alphas grounds you, keeps you tethered to them.
You have just the presence to reach out to Minho, fingers brushing over his side as the healing runes written around the tops of your forearms flare to life, their glow different from the ones intended for attack - theyâre the orangey pink of a rising dawn, like tiny suns pulsating beneath your skin. They begin to burn, uncomfortably hot as you heal Minhoâs cracked ribs, then Felixâs nose and Hanâs swollen black eyes, followed by all the injuries of your alphas that you can with the energy you have spare.
Youâre panting by the end of it, drained. Youâve still neglected some of the less serious flesh wounds, but the well inside of you that was full to the brim with potency when you first entered the keep has run dry. If it werenât for your heat fast approaching, you might have more energy, but you donât, so thatâs what youâre forced to settle with as you close your eyes and try to stop yourself from wriggling too much in Jeonginâs grip.
âIâll take her,â someone says, and youâre being transferred into anotherâs arms.
Clean linen and cinnamon, crisp and familiar, crashes over you, and you nestle into Jisungâs arms, trying to absorb his body heat as he kisses your face - the urge to nest is beginning to grow stronger, now that the adrenaline from the fight is leaving your system, and heâs so warm.
Somewhere far away, you can hear Felixâs low, comforting voice as he talks to Goemulâs omegas, and Chanâs too, instructing them and pointing them towards the east wing of the keep - you know at some point, theyâll want to talk to you, but for now you rest your chin on Jisungâs shoulder, closing your eyes and leaning your weight against him. Some of them remain in the hall, putting the bodies in neat piles up against the wall to be buried later or tending to anyone with injuries.
âWeâre going to find somewhere for you to nest now, baby,â Jisung says into your hair. âHyunjinnie is going to take you while we look.â
Another set of arms wraps around you, lean and wiry and smelling like roses and grapefruit but mainly roses, achingly close, strong enough to make you want to cry. He nuzzles at your neck, his long hair tickling your face and collarbones. Part of you is singing, happy only now that youâre surrounded by your alphas, happy that -
Hyunjinâs tongue flicks over your scent gland.
You know he doesnât mean to set off anything - he does it a lot, just to calm you or show affection, but youâre teetering on the brink, hanging in the balance, and this is what tips you over. Just like that, your first wave of slick comes, and all of a sudden thereâs an insistent ache between your legs. You stiffen in his arms.
âAlpha,â you whine, voice small.
Around you, you hear rather than see the boys pause. No doubt their instincts are kicking in, already perked up at the heady spike in your scent, telling them to look after their omega and knot and  breed and give you pups. There are the other omegas in the room, too, but even they freeze, affected by the possessive twang rolling off each of your alphaâs scents.
Hyunjin shifts just a little against you, and you feel his hardening cock heavy against your hip. A gasp escapes you, and itâs like the sound of it jolts your alphas back up to the present, because theyâre moving again, hurrying, in a slight frenzy as they continue to help move the bodies and organise the rest of the omegas.
The fog of your heat is descending, and the rational part of you hates this timing - you need to look after your alphas, tend to their wounds that you couldnât heal, but the animal part of you clamours over it, making you squirm uncomfortably, pushing Hyunjin away as you spin around, searching for a place to nest. You breath comes out in gasps: you canât have your heat without a nest, but you donât know if there are rooms free, if -
A firm hand sweeps up your back, landing on the nape of your neck and holding it, not quite scruffing you but breaking through your rising panic, making you listen. The scent of cocoa and gentle musk overcomes you, and when you look up at Chan, his dark, authority filled eyes pinning you down, another round of slick gushes out of you, and he smiles a little at your response to him.
âPack leader,â you yip, ducking your head. âL - leader, alpha - â
âYouâre going to be okay,â Chan soothes. âYour alphas are here, okay? Weâre going to get you to the bed Changbin and Jisung have found for you so you can nest. Just hang in there, omega.â
âWhat about the other omegas?â You ask, struggling to meet his eyes.
âTheyâre in the other wing,â he replies, then preempts your next words. âWeâll find new packs for them; weâre not going to replace you, sweetheart. Just let your alphas take care of you, yeah?â
Gently, he takes your hand in his and rubs his thumb along the scent gland at your wrist. A quiet, needy noise tears itself from your throat, and suddenly your legs are buckling - Chan catches you and scoops you up, one hand cradling the back of your head as he carries you through the passages leading from the hall and into the guest wing.
Youâre lowered onto the softest mattress youâve ever felt. Itâs funny how all your time trapped in this keep, you never slept on anything but the cold stone floor - but now, your alphas are here, either still in the great hall, here with you or in what you understand is the bathroom next door, and Goemulâs dead, and youâre safe.
Chan kisses your crown and leaves you be for now as you hurriedly arrange the blankets. The bed is huge, wider than you are tall, yet you still crave your nest at home, items of clothing hoarded from your alphas tucked neatly amongst the bedding youâd padded it with - the sheets here are clean, but devoid of smell. It doesnât compare.
You sit back on your heels. âThe nest, itâs nowhere near good enough.â
Seungmin appears by your side, rubbing his thumb over the scent gland in your neck, his lips in your hair. âNo, omega, itâs perfect. Youâre perfect.â
The praise relaxes you, calms you, and you melt into his touch, leaning against him and pushing your face into his side, resting your cheek on his bare skin - like the others, heâd surrendered his shirt for your nest without complaint. His touch is feather light as he strokes your hair, and your eyelids droop a little.
Seungmin pecks your lips. âYou need to sleep now, before your heat fully hits. Weâll all be here when you wake up.â
He watches you lay down, perching on the mattress so you have an alpha close to you while you fall asleep. Yawning, you curl up close to him. This will be the last proper rest you get until the end of your heat.
You close your eyes, the scent of warm embers washing over you.
You wake up sweating.
The ache between your legs has spread upwards and outwards, and you curl into a ball from the pain of it, eyes blurry as you blindly reach your hands out, searching for an alpha. You can hear yourself babbling, begging for a knot, begging to be filled up, because theyâre all right there, curled up on the mattress, surrounding you, but theyâre all asleep, all eight of them leaving you here in heat on your own, without a knot, and you canât think beyond the need; youâre going to implode if someone doesnât -
Sure hands unfurl you, flipping you so youâre spread flat on the mattress. The weight of one of your alphas traps you in place, and you moan, back arching when a hot tongue slides along the column of your throat, halting at your scent gland and sucking the sensitive skin there.
Sweet vanilla rolls over your senses. His teeth bite and suck at your collarbone, and you groan, head all jumbled with need, your body still locked up from the cramps as you fumble with his boxers, urgency rendering you clumsy.
Mercifully, one of your alphas has stripped you down to your underwear while you were sleeping, and you find you donât even have the time to take them off, instead hooking your leg around Minhoâs hip and grinding your throbbing core down on his hardening cock. Lightning pulses through your cunt at the way his lids half close in pleasure, filling you with the need to please your alpha, to be of use to him.
He tears your underwear off with a flick of his wrist. Your pussy is only getting wetter.
Dipping his head, Minho claims your lips, and the brush of his tongue against yours makes your head spin faster than it already is, your hands coming up to tangle with his hair as his hips roll to meet yours.
âF - fuck,â you choke out, jolting when Minho sinks two fingers inside you and scissors them.
His lips travel lower to trace down your sternum. âGotta stretch you out for the boys, jagiya.â
You find yourself squirming a little; his fingers are curling, pumping in and out of you at exactly the pace you normally like, but your body is working itself up to the wild throes at the peak of your heat and you need more, so much more. You tell him so, and he chuckles, kissing you again like itâs going to distract you from the way heâs lining himself up at the entrance of your cunt.
Barely the tip of him is in before youâre clenching hard, painfully hard, scrabbling at the bedsheets and crying his name so loud itâs a wonder the boys donât stir. He licks and sucks at your scent gland, relaxing you until your muscles ease up and he can move - despite all your slick, you still feel the burn of his cock. Heâs stretching you out, just like he said he would.
Agonisingly, he pulls out, just to slam back in again, balls deep, punching the air out of your lungs. Minho fucks you roughly, like you need at the start of your heat, his cock reaching so deep inside you you think he might be in your guts - heâs not fast, just so intense that tears are forming on your lash line and youâre panting, fighting for breath.
Then, heâs forcing your legs up onto his shoulders, and the new angle makes you wail, because heâs destroying your cunt in a way that has your thighs shaking and your chest heaving, pleas for more spilling out of you uncontrollably.
Minho has a way of wringing pleasure from you, fucking you so good that you canât do anything but repeat his name over and over; you feel yourself suspended on the edge, fire licking up your sides, so close, so close, so close -
Mid-thrust, he pauses.
âAlpha,â you scream, voice breaking pitifully. âAlpha, please - â
Thereâs something half sadistic in his eyes when he looks down at you, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips, teasing as he enjoys the way you struggle, bucking against him desperately, begging like itâs the only thing you know how to do.
âSungieâs woken up from all your noise, omega,â Minho remarks impassively. âMaybe you should give him a hand.â
No sooner has he finished speaking than an achingly hard cock makes its way into your palm, and you cast your teary eyes upward, only half there as you witness Jisungâs head fall back in pleasure when you begin to jerk him, because thank all that is good, Minhoâs moving again, tearing you apart and putting you back together with those powerful thrusts of his hips.
Heâs hitting that spot inside you, and each time he does, paralysing bolts of pleasure shoot down your spine. Your orgasm crushes you with its magnitude, whiting out your vision, and through it, you blindly beg for his knot, beg him to fill you, beg him to stuff you with load after load.
âThatâs right, omega,â he grits out. âLet it all out for me.â
Tears finally spill over, trickling down your face, the pleasure leaving you rapt, brows drawn together and mouth hanging open, and still he fucks into you; you can feel the slight burn as his knot begins to engorge, and you know heâs so close, so almost filling you up.
Your thoughts grow indistinct the moment Minho spills hot inside you, his knot popping into place and locking you together. Jisung comes not a moment later, letting go with a short cry all over your chest, and if you were not full and happy with Minhoâs knot, youâd be fretting about the waste. Instead, you close your eyes and murmur a pleased âalphaâ, fingers brushing lightly over a bandage on Minhoâs arm as the two of them begin to lick the come off you.
You must drift off, because when you resurface, Jisung, Minho and his knot are gone, most likely to the bathroom, and instead you can feel Seungminâs long fingers working lazily between your legs, just enough to take the edge off the bite of your cramps. Heâs got your back propped up against his chest, and you wiggle, bucking your hips up into his touch, inhaling the smell of warm embers.
âWhat do you think youâre doing, omega?â
You freeze at the dominance in his tone. Remaining silent, you gaze up at him, wide eyed and head full of cotton as he pins you beneath him, the ravenous look on his face making your neck and cheeks flush. You can feel his cock against your thigh, but he doesnât allow you to move, doesnât move himself, just stares down at you, waiting.
Slowly, you tilt your head back, exposing the vulnerable expanse of your throat - a display of utter submission. A low whine escapes you when his breath caresses your skin, his nose brushing against your jugular as he inhales your scent.
âGood omega,â Seungmin murmurs. âOur omega.â
âYours,â you echo, and this time, he lets you buck against him.
Another hot rush of slick leaves you at the friction of his clothed cock against you, and you gasp his name, rubbing your cheek all over his neck and chest, trying to cover him in your scent. He allows it, letting you press yourself against him, desperation soaking your scent, your hands roaming his body urgently, trying to tell him that you need his knot because all your mouth can seem to do right now is say âalphaâ, again and again and again.
In one smooth sweep, Seungmin gathers your wrists above your head and pins them there. A sound leaves you, so eager and pathetic that your cheeks flush and you struggle half heartedly against him, but heâs yanking off his boxers and running his fingers through your folds to transfer your arousal and make sure his dick will be wet enough. If you stay still, you think you might die.
Yet another round of slick is pouring from you. He chuckles, seeing your cunt clench as he spits in his hand and wraps his fingers around his cock - you know heâs doing it to taunt you. Whoever goes first always makes sure youâre prepped.
âReady for my knot, omega?â Seungmin coos. âThink you can take it?â
âYes,â you whine. âYes, alpha, yes, give it to me, I can, I can - â
Your mouth snaps shut when he thrusts into you, your eyes widening and back arching as thrill after thrill races up your spine, making your cunt bear down on him, squeezing him tight and greedily sucking him in further. The moment he starts moving, you know heâs not going to go easy on you.
Seungmin is going to make you earn it.
He releases your hands, letting you grab onto him as he fucks into you, fast, unrelenting. Almost sly, his fingers drag down your stomach so he can rub them over your clit in tight circles - your pussy flutters in response, clamping down on him. A muttered curse escapes him; you can feel every muscle of his back taut under your grip, the vein in his neck beginning to strain, yet all he does is go harder.
Something within you buckles. Not a second later, you come, clenching around his cock, squeezing him so tight heâs forced to grind into you further, your cunt refusing to let him pull out. You expect him to ease up, give you a moment to rest but he continues the moment he can, unforgiving.
Overstimulation sears at you, cutting through the cloudiness fogging your brain, and you yawp, scrabbling at Seungminâs back, thighs jumping with every drag of his cock against your walls as you rake your nails against his skin in a way that must be hurting his battered, not quite healed body, but he doesnât shake you off, doesnât seem to mind.
âStop thrashing if you want your alphaâs knot,â he snarls.
âW - want it,â you babble, trying to stay still for him. âNeed it so bad, alpha.â
âThen take it.â
He punctuates his words with deep rolls of his hips, and this time you canât not move, because the pads of his fingers are back on your clit, torturous, creating friction so impossibly blissful that it hurts, and heâs hammering his dick into you, so quick that you canât form words any more, and then - and then -
Once again, you come, and he slams his knot inside you.
Your back bows, your fingers twisting into the sheets until someone grabs your hand and squeezes it as tightly you are squeezing theirs. Itâs not Seungminâs, you realise - his are too busy propping him up, holding him above you. Turning your head to the side, you smile: itâs Minho, half asleep with his eyes almost closed and a silly little grin on his face.
Huffing, his breath ruffling your hair, Seungmin pokes at your face, bringing your attention back to him. You tip your head up and fit your lips to his, a warm, happy buzz engulfing you now that youâre full, and he lowers himself on top of you so you can lie there together, joined by his knot nestled inside your sated cunt as sleep tugs you both under.
You wake up to cacao and musk, lips closed over your scent gland, gently sucking. Whatever Seungminâs knot and the orgasms he plucked from you did to appease your heat have worn off, and fast, because youâre sweating all over, hips moving against the firmness below you and you donât know where you are, just that there are hands on your body and a mouth on your neck keeping back the flames.
âLeader,â you mewl, half crazy on his scent. âAlpha, need your knot,â
âIâve got you,â Chan croons. âAlphaâs got you.â
It begins to dawn on you that youâre straddling his lap, grinding down frantically on his thigh, his hands cool where they coast over your burning skin, smoothing circles over your back. Taking your chin in his fingers, he tilts your face up until youâre looking at him. The moment you meet his eyes, you still, hips hovering over his.
âYou going to behave for me, omega?â
You nod so hard it hurts your neck. âYes, alpha, so good, so good for you. Promise.â
âSweet girl,â he coos. âMy omega.â
Leaving trails of goosebumps behind, Chanâs hands slide down your torso, down to caress the curves of your hips, down to right where you need him. Thereâs a moment where he just holds your cunt, fingers pressing between your folds until you break and rock against the heel of his palm, chasing away the building pressure between your legs in favour of momentary relief, wobbly voiced pleas rushing from you as your slick soaks him to the wrist.
Nosing at your throat, he laves his tongue over your scent gland, one hand coming round to grip your ass as he positions you closer to him. When he looks up at you, you see the same haze that blankets your mind clouding his eyes - you must be nearing the peak of your heat for your scent to affect him so. Heâs barely holding himself back.
âOkay?â He verifies. âCan take it?â
âY - yes, yes,â you reply, grinding your hips down despite his steady grip on you, searching for his cock.
Thatâs all it takes for him to lurch upwards, sheathing himself in your heat like it was made for him. The remainder of the sentence on your tongue dissolves into a keening moan, your lips falling open, eyes unfocused and rolled back; he gives you barely a second to adjust to his thickness before heâs pounding into you, holding you in place above him with his nails digging into the flesh of your ass.
You grab at his broad shoulders, needing something to anchor you with the way heâs jerking your whole body up and down with every punishing thrust. Chanâs fucking up into you like he wants you to forget your own name, like he wants you to forget everything but the surge of his cock through your spasming walls; heâs got you dumb, mouth agape, the sounds that leave you wordless but pleading.
Itâs as if your senses have narrowed to the giddying scent of your alpha and the promise of his knot in the snap of his hips against yours - you canât think of anything else.
Dimly, you realise heâs speaking between the sloppy kisses he adorns your neck and chest with, groaning and mumbling against your skin as his teeth nip at your scent gland, stimulating you in a way that brings century old instincts to the surface - it has you shuddering, nails buried into the meat of his biceps as you twist your head back to bare your throat to your alpha.
âGood omega,â heâs gasping, words slurred, reaching so deep inside you all you can do is take it. âMade for me, omega - fuck, fuck, squeezing me so well - gonna give you my knot, sweetheart, give you my pups, gotta breed you, gonna - â
Chan moans so loud itâs almost a howl, slamming you down on his cock to the hilt one last time, fingers furiously working your clit. The hot spill of his seed yanks you unceremoniously over the edge, and you feel your pussy constrict around his knot - he hisses at the feel of it, his chest, mottled with bruises, heaving as he comes down from the high, eyes beginning to focus on you.
Fuck, he looks good, all sweaty and panting and still a bit dazed, his curls ruffled and a dumb little blissed out smile plastered on his face. Tugging you close, he lets his forehead fall against your collarbones, pushing his face between your tits - you giggle as he sighs happily into their plushness, tucking your arms around him and holding him close, sated and so incredibly, wonderfully full.
âSo good for me, sweetheart,â he mumbles, voice muffled against your skin.
You preen at his words, and his hands move up from where they were splayed out on your back to stroke your hair, smoothing it down and untangling some of the knots with his fingers. Curling up as much as you can in this position, you lean your head on Chanâs shoulder, basking in the reassuring presence of your alpha.
Something warm presses against your leg, and you look down to see Jeongin, balled up facing Seungmin with his back pushed up against the length of your thigh, his angular face softened in sleep. Grinning, you brush a hand over his cheek, and he stirs, humming drowsily before settling again.
A hand rubs at the small of your back, and you turn to see that Felix has woken up. Despite the fact that his blonde hair is mussed and heâs squinting against the light of the torches in the sconces on the walls, heâs smiling sweetly at you, gaze bright and soft.
âFelix, please could you grab that for me?â Chanâs gesturing to a small platter on the bedside table.
Clambering over a slumbering Minho and Jisung and almost tripping up on Changbinâs outstretched leg, he retrieves it and hands it to Chan, who supports you with a hand on your waist so you can sit back and tuck into the slices of bread and cheese on the plate. You hadnât realised how hungry you were until now - your stomach rumbles at just the smell of the food.
Through a mouthful, you beam. âThanks, Lix.â
He leans over Changbin to kiss you sweetly, filling your nose with the scent of violets and sunshine. âOnce Chanâs knot goes down Iâll take you to the bath, okay?â
âYes, please,â you reply. âIâm all sticky.â
âMy bad,â Chan chuckles, rubbing his hands up and down your sides and making your brain all fuzzy.
By the time youâve finished the food, Chanâs knot has come down enough to slip out of you - both of you groan when he pulls out, his come rolling down your thighs. You glance over at Felix and see him watching, and when you look down you can see heâs semi hard and sending you a sheepish grin.
A great yawn splits your face in half, and you stretch your cramped legs as you shuffle awkwardly off the bed, pausing to give Chan a kiss before he scoots down and tugs the blanket over him, nuzzling close to Jeongin. Lifting you up, Felix carries you to the bathroom - Hyunjin looks up from where heâs perched on a rickety wooden stool in the corner, holding something delicately in his hands and smirking.
âThat cavewoman omega in you really likes it when Chan fucks you like that, huh?â
You roll your eyes. âGo on and pretend you werenât hard.â
âWhy are you holed up in here, anyway?â Felix asks as he helps you into the wooden tub.
âChangbin was rolling around in his sleep,â he shrugs. âDidnât want to stab him.â
Proudly, Hyunjin holds up the piece of wood heâs been whittling - itâs a lovely piece of limewood, light and creamy in colour, and it must be a maquette for a sword hilt heâs planning on making, because itâs carved with whorls and flowing arches, as if the wood itself is malleable clay in his skilled hands.
âI like it,â Felix says as he helps soap your back. âItâs pretty.â
Hyunjin gives him a look. âOf course.â
You chuckle. âYeah, Felix, when did he ever make something that wasnât pretty?â
âHey, what about that time when - â
âNo, it was pretty, you just - â
Closing your eyes, you listen to the two of them bicker playfully, relishing the warmth of the water and the way it eases your sore muscles - you want to enjoy the momentary lucidity. Youâre still somewhere in the highest intensity of your heat, and soon your body is going to want a knot again, even after having Chanâs so recently.
Right on queue, as if just thinking about it sets it off, your scent spikes, and you feel a wave of slick spill from you - it goes straight into the water, but both Hyunjin and Felix fall silent anyway, sensing your need from a mile away.
Thereâs a moment of silence, and then Hyunjin drags his stool closer to the tub.
Without further delay, Felix shucks off his boxers and climbs in. The water swills but doesnât spill over, and he takes your chin and kisses you softly, careful not to lean too much of his weight on you; the moment he pulls back, Hyunjin is there, swiping his thumb over your bottom lip before pushing it into your mouth, and you moan around him when you feel the nudge of Felixâs cock head at your entrance.
All three of you groan when he slides in, and you turn your head to the side, unsurprised to see Hyunjinâs slender fingers curling around his cock, his carving abandoned to the side - your eyes glide upwards, locking on his as you suck on his thumb, still resting against your lips, and he visibly picks up his pace, face twisting in pleasure.
Hiding his face into your damp neck, Felix groans, low and deep, thrusting his hips forward until they kiss yours, so close that his pubic bone grinds over your clit. He fucks into you slowly and tenderly, and as he does, Hyunjin hooks his thumb under your chin and crams three of his fingers into your mouth up to the knuckle, grunting when your tongue swirls over them.
Youâre still sensitive from Chan, maybe even from the two orgasms Seungmin coaxed from you, and the way Felixâs cock drags through you is driving you insane - almost as much as the praise theyâre both showering upon you and the pump of Hyunjinâs fingers in and out of your mouth. Water is sloshing over the sides of the tub with each movement, and itâs as if youâre floating aimlessly, muscles lax and surrounded all over by this warmth.
Hyunjin comes first.
Itâs Felix that sets him off: kissing you over the fingers buried in your mouth, his tongue sliding over them before he licks at your lower lip, sucking it into his mouth, and suddenly Hyunjinâs coming with a gasp, wrenching Felix off your front by his shoulder so he can spill over the part of your chest thatâs above the water.
Thatâs what makes you come.
The sight of Hyunjin bent double over you and Felix, jerking himself until heâs spent and then some to overstimulate himself, the hand that had been in your mouth gripping the side of the tub so hard his knuckles run white - itâs too much. Your pussy convulses around Felix, and only then do you find your words, gasping that you need a knot, begging for his come.
Itâs all too easy for him to give you what you want - more water splashes out of the tub and straight onto the bathroom floor as he seats his knot inside you, plugging his seed in so not a drop is wasted. He flops over you, panting.
âI didnât expect it to come back so fast,â you remark as the three of you catch your breath.
âSo much for the bath,â Felix laughs. âMaybe we should draw another one.â
The next time you open your eyes, it hits you full force. The ache in your core is so intense that all you can do is flail, thrashing and writhing and crying, all tangled up in the blankets which are soaked with your sweat and twisted around your legs, all tangled up in the consuming flames of your heat. There are warm bodies all around you; you can hear their breathing, but none of them are responding, and fuck it hurts -
This canât be happening again -
You squeak in alarm as someone manhandles you onto your front so quickly that your head spins, holding your arms down so you can barely move - youâre grinding desperately down on the mattress, and you can feel the sheets beneath you grow wet with your slick.
âStay still, omega,â a voice growls. âYouâre going to push someone off the bed if you donât.â
âAlpha?â You whimper, rubbing your thighs together. âItâs not enough, please - â
âBinnieâs here,â he soothes, tone gentler now. âBinnieâs going to take care of you, okay? Hands and knees for me, omega.â
Tears of relief trickle down your face and seep into the cloth beneath you - Jeonginâs shirt. You scramble to obey your alphaâs command, only halting when Changbin pulls you in for a quick kiss that leaves you dizzy, as if he sucked the air from your lungs and replaced it with pure, unadulterated need. Squeezing your ass, he fucking bullies you into position, manoeuvring you until youâre face down, ass up.
You fist the sheets in your hands, trying to stay still but heâs taking his damn time. Arching your back, you push back on him, feverish, reduced to the urges of your idiot omega brain that you canât ignore for the life of you. Your thighs are trembling as he lines himself up, your breath coming out in harsh pants.
With a harsh stab of his hips, he ploughs into you.
You wait for him to move, wait for him to fucking destroy you, but he doesnât; he just holds himself there, infuriating, playing with you, and youâre wailing and trying to push back onto him more but heâs got you in his iron grip and then heâs cracking a hand down on your ass and you howl and finally -
Finally heâs moving.
Changbin is railing into you, unrelenting. Youâre clenching so hard around him, desperate for his knot that your vision keeps blanking out, your voice breaking as you call his name, and surely itâs waking up the boys, but you donât really care because you need him, need -
âNeed it, alpha,â you sob, âNeed it.â
âI know, omega,â he grits out. âLet your alpha take care of you.â
And then he gives you all you ask. He gives it to you, alright. He gives it to you so that the slick is running out of you and down your twitching thighs, he gives it to you so youâre hoarse from screaming his name - he gives it to you until you feel all limp and boneless beneath him, and still he draws you out, drilling into you like he was born to do it.
Just when you think he might be satisfied, Changbin hooks a hand under your arm and pulls you upright, pinning you against his chest and hitting a new, cataclysmic angle inside you; roughly, he bites down on the spot where you shoulder and neck meet, and his hands come up to cup your tits, pinching your nipples and sending jolts of pleasure through you. Heâs fucking up into you endlessly and you canât even remember if you came already because heâs got you drowning in ecstasy, losing yourself in it.
And then his fingers are on your clit.
You can feel his knot, pressing against your core, so close, so close.
Inside your stomach, something pulls up tight, and you come so hard everything goes black.
You come to about half a minute later, cradled against Changbinâs chest, his knot safely within your cunt, satisfying you, and heâs hugging you to him, kissing every inch of your sweat coated skin that he can reach. He shifts against you when he senses you waking, nuzzling against your scent gland as he kisses a hickey on your neck - most likely from Minho.
âAre you okay?â Changbin asks. âDid I go too hard?â
âNo,â you reply drowsily. âWas good. So good.â
Your hand meets his, and you smile a little as you twine your fingers together. The scent of roses and grapefruit fills your nose, and you close your eyes at the feel of Hyunjin nestling closer to you, sandwiching you between him and Changbin, your breathing slowing as you drift off.
Youâre woken by a puff of air against your clit. Hyunjin chuckles when the muscles in your thigh jitter at the feel of it, looking up at you from where he sprawls between your legs, grinning like he wants to devour you. Whatever youâre lying on rocks to the side, and you bleat in alarm and narrowly catch yourself, glancing over your shoulder to find that your head was resting on Jeonginâs chest, who is now smirking at you, eyes glittering mischievously.
The feeling of two alphas looking like they might eat you does something to your cunt that has Hyunjin transfixed. He licks his lips and you get the distinct sense that he might accidentally pop a knot too soon if he isnât careful.
âYou two look like youâre plotting something,â you mumble, trying to ignore the attention your pussy is demanding.
âYeah,â Jeongin confirms casually. âHyunjinâs going to go down on you and Iâm going to fuck your mouth.â
âOh,â you say, and this time you canât ignore the way you clench around nothing.
Hyunjin groans, and you feel the mattress dip a little as he grinds into it. He buries a finger into your fluttering heat, cursing under his breath, and your eyes widen as Jeongin props your head up with a pillow and straddles your chest, his flushed cock nudging your lips. Your tongue darts out, flicking against his head, and he adjusts himself so heâs kneeling over you.
Opening your mouth, you take him as far as you can, and almost like heâs rewarding you for it, Hyunjinâs lips close around your clit. Surprised, you yelp around Jeonginâs length, hips bucking into Hyunjinâs face of their own accord; in response, another finger is eased into your core and you suck in a sharp breath of air.
Thatâs the moment Jeongin chooses to thrust shallowly into your mouth. You gag and get embarrassingly close to coming - Hyunjin lifts his head, feeling your weeping pussy seize his fingers.
âShe liked that,â he remarks.
You donât even get to reply because thereâs an alpha cock fucking itself down your throat, surrounding you with the scent of mint and lavender. Youâre not sure when you moved your hands but now theyâre curled under the backs of his thighs, your nails sinking into his skin as he uses your mouth, and heâs got your hair fisted in his fingers for better leverage - even through the haze of your heat you can see his knuckles are still swollen and cut up from the fight.
He must have been pretty wound up because you can feel him tensing under your palms, curses flowing from his lips as he wrenches himself out of your mouth and basically shoves Hyunjin out of the way. Thereâs a moment where youâre painfully empty, bereft of Hyunjinâs nimble fingers, and then Jeongin slams his cock inside you, rutting into you once, twice, before he comes, his knot swelling within you and filling you up.
âSo good for us, omega,â Hyunjin coos, appearing at your side.
Cupping your chin, he kisses you and you can taste yourself on him as he licks into your mouth, tangling his tongue with yours. Jeongin pushes him to the side, grumbling and barging him with his shoulder so he can press his lips to your scent gland, sucking a love bite just below it, his teeth grazing over your skin. You giggle at the look on Hyunjinâs face, cute and pouty despite the fact that you can feel his cock, stiff and leaking precum all over your thigh.
While you wait for Jeonginâs knot to go down, the two of them take turns kissing you, Hyunjin sometimes sneaking kisses to Jeongin too. Itâs like youâre in heaven: stuffed full and content, with two alphas paying their utmost attention to you.
Finally, Jeongin eases out, and you feel the hot spill of his come - and maybe some of Changbinâs too - ooze from your stretched out pussy. He scoops up as much of it as he can and pushes it right back in, licking his fingers after: your body is wracked by a shiver at the sight, cunt aching to be filled again.
âNeed another load?â Hyunjin teases, seeing the hungry look in your eyes.
âGet on with it already, alpha,â you snark back.
Eagerly, Hyunjin slots himself between your legs, gliding his cock head through your folds a few times before he plunges in. It shuts you up, fast. Throwing his head back, he groans, just a little louder than the wet, sucking sounds your pussy makes as he begins to move; thereâs come slopping out of you with each thrust, smearing over the tops of your thighs and his, and he fucks it right back into you until youâre keening, bucking into him.
âShit,â he moans. âKeep on fucking doing that, sweet omega.â
Breathless, you obey, rolling your hips to meet his so fervently that your muscles begin to burn, but itâs the good kind, the type of sensation that comes before your legs lock up, trembling uncontrollably as pleasure hits you so hard you go limp.
Pinching and rubbing at your clit in a way that is glorious, Hyunjin dips his head, giving you another kiss that tastes like you, and suddenly, at the touch of his lips to yours, youâre coming, shaking so hard that youâre shaking him. He groans your name, hands tangling in your hair to hold your face to his, and he travels a little lower to mouth at the hollow of your throat.
âTaking me so well,â he rasps. âFitting around me just right, omega.â
A little jolt of lightning shoots through you as he lurches a little further into your cunt, coming, and thereâs already so much seed inside you that a little bit seeps out around his knot, fat drops slipping down your skin. Sighing contentedly, you stretch your arms above your head as Hyunjin rests his head on your chest. You can feel the dull pain of your heat receding, giving way to a hint of lucidity, and now that the adrenaline is leaving your system, you start to feel aches flaring up all over your body.
Lifting your head, you keep a hand on the back of Hyunjinâs head so he doesnât slide off you as you search for the familiar scent of clean linen and cinnamon, craning your neck as you twist to check heâs not among the boys dozing on the mattress around you. Just before you call out his name, the door to the room opens, and he walks in, cheeks full with some food he must have raided from the keepâs storeroom.
Jisung sees your face and immediately strides over. âFeeling okay, omega?â
You nod. âI think itâs almost passed.â
A stab of guilt punches through you. Jisungâs waited his turn, and thereâs a chance that if you fall asleep now, youâll wake up and find your heat has broken. He must smell the worry on your scent, because he leans forward and tucks some of your tangled hair behind your ear.
âItâs okay, jagi,â he reassures. âThis is about you. Rest now.â
Youâre already dreaming by the time he finishes his sentence.
âAre you sure?â Jisung clarifies again, even though youâre certain he can still smell the lingering honey of your heat on your scent.
âYes, alpha,â you huff, unable to hide the petulance in your voice.
He raises an eyebrow.
âPlease,â you whine. âNeed your knot, Ji, please, alpha.â
âOkay, but you tell me if youâre too sensitive, alright?â
You nod, already bucking your hips which succeeds to do nothing but drag his cock head through your folds. Youâd woken up surrounded by Jisungâs crisp linen and cinnamon scent, the low burning need for a knot clawing at your insides, subdued at least by the seven other knots youâve taken but still insistent enough that you needed Jisung inside you.
A wretched cry leaves you as he seats his cock inside you - he pauses, throwing his head back, biting his lips to stifle a moan - and you feel him twitch from within your squeezing walls. Youâre not surprised; heâs been stuck in a keep with his omegaâs scent rubbed all over him, the mattress and his pack mates, driving him crazy.
âFucking hell, omega,â he mumbles, nuzzling at your face before he kisses you. âDonât know how long Iâm gonna last.â
Jisung begins to move, slowly but deep, a little smile pulling at his lips as he looks you right in the eyes, lacing his fingers with yours where they rest on the pillows beneath your head. Heâs gentle, aware that youâre sore, pressing feather light kisses to the hickeys decorating your skin - some of which you donât even remember exactly who gave to you, your memories clouded by your heat - and slowing his pace if your face screws up or your fingers tighten too hard on his.
Wrapping your legs around his trimmed waist, you pull him closer, crossing your ankles at the small of his back. His hand trails down and begins to rub steadily at your clit, and you feel the stirrings of heaven beginning to rouse within you: your toes curl, and a drawn out whine escapes from your throat, urging him onwards.
Jisungâs fingers speed up on your clit. âCome for me, omega.â
You keen as shockwaves run through you, leaving you spent, out of breath, pussy raw. Fractionally, Jisung slows the pace heâs thrusting into you, whispering sweet nothings onto your lips like prayers - your fingers sweep through his soft hair, the rest of your body limp against the mattress as you gaze up at him, eyes glazed.
âAlpha,â you whimper - itâs all you have the energy for.
âShit, omega - â
Jisung cums with a gasp, knot locking into place as he trembles above you, trying to control the way he rocks his hips , grinding himself impossibly deeper into you. A tear slips down your cheek and he licks it off, the tender look in his eyes leaving you all melty in his arms.
Your pussy flutters around him, constricting around his knot as he carefully rolls the two of you over for you to lie on his chest, legs curled up either side of him so you can soak up the feel of his skin against yours. His arms wrap around you, and another hand, calloused from hours working in the smithy, brushes over your back before lips press against your shoulder blade.
âHowâs she doing?â Chan whispers.
âGood,â you hum, answering for Jisung and cracking your eyes open a millimetre. âReally good. Really tired, too.â
He chuckles. âIâm not surprised, sweetheart.â
Minho speaks up, saying something that makes Jisungâs wide chest vibrate beneath your ear with a quiet laugh, but you donât really hear it at all - your brain feels like itâs made out of cotton, and your limbs feel light and airy, Jisungâs skin so soft itâs as if youâre floating on a cloud.
âLove you, alpha,â you murmur.
You donât clarify, and they donât ask, but they know you mean each and every one of them.
When you next rouse yourself, youâre fully lucid, and Changbinâs shouting at someone from inside the bathroom. Groaning, you rub your eyes, and a low, tired throb emanates from between your legs - solid proof that your alphas took care of you through your heat, like they always do. You remember it: most of it vividly, some of it in flashes.
Flopping your arms out, youâre met with unpleasantly cold sheets. A frown furrows your brow and you lift your head - now that youâre shaking off the last dregs of your heat and the long sleep that has left a small bit of drool on the pillow beneath your head, you can faintly hear your packâs voices. From what it sounds, most of them are in the corridor or the great hall, and you can just about pick up other voices too: the omegas you rescued.
You can also hear Changbin, clear as day, muttering grumpily to himself. Snickering, you listen closer, catching something about Seungmin, that little shit and damn towel. You open your mouth, ready to call out to him -
âSeungmin!â He yells, so loud you jump. âI know you can hear me! Whereâs my towel?â
With a groan, you heave yourself upright and pull on the first shirt available: immediately, Jisungâs scent wraps tight around you. Choking on a laugh that you fail to stifle, you shuffle to the edge of the bed and climb off, taking pity on Changbin, while - rolling his eyes so hard it looks like thereâs someone behind them pulling them with strings - Seungmin bursts through the bedroom door.
Just in time to see your legs buckle.
He darts across the room and manages to break your fall as you crumple to the floor, muscles protesting. Unfortunately, you manage to take him down with you and he laughs, loud enough for Changbin to hear it and think heâs the one getting made fun of, but with a mischievous spark dancing in his eyes that you know is aimed at you.
âYouâre acting as if you didnât contribute to this,â you retort, attempting to pull yourself up.
Thereâs a steady burning in your thighs, and once youâre upright, youâre wobbling like a newborn calf. Seungmin snorts, knocking you backwards onto the bed and kissing you, fending off your hands as you attempt to punch him in the ribs. Eventually, he lets up, mostly because Changbin has started screeching threats from inside the bathroom that can be heard over your giggled protests.
He sorts out his mussed hair. âI donât regret contributing whatsoever. In fact, I enjoyed it.â
âYouâre always so smug after knotting me, huh?â You send him a rude gesture.
âAs if you didnât - â
âSeungmin, I swear - â
Both of you giggle, and Changbin splutters, hearing your laughter. Still chuckling, Seungmin scoops you up in his arms and retrieves a towel thatâs been stowed behind one of the pillows, taking his time to open the bathroom door and hand it back to him. Seeing Changbin, his damp hair hanging over his eyes as he grumbles at the two of you, unable to fulfil his threats with Seungmin using you as a human shield, sets the two of you off again.
The sound of your laughter attracts your other alphas. They file into the room, and Chan smiles fondly as he sees you Seungminâs arms. Jeongin walks over and nuzzles his face into your hair, kissing your earlobe and pausing there.
âLegs out of commission after being fucked too good, huh?â
âJeongin,â you hiss, slapping his arm. Seungmin has the audacity to high five him.
Chan attempts to hide a laugh. âIâm going to ignore that.â
âWell, you better not ignore Seungmin stealing and hiding my towel,â Changbin mutters.
Seungmin laughs again, and you get passed to Jeongin while he wards off Changbin, who is still clad in just a towel. Warmth fills you - itâs good to have your boys happy and playful after seeing them taken and hurt by Goemul. Youâre whole again now that youâve got them back.
Eventually, the two of them calm down, and Chan smiles at you in a way that makes your heart swell and overflow in your chest.
âReady to go home, omega?â
taglist: @0bticeo @hyunjinsjeans @sleepyleeji @milkslovehotel
fyi: goemul = monster in korean
#stray kids#stray kids x you#stray kids a/b/o#a/b/o dynamics#a/b/o#skz x reader#skz x you#skz x y/n#stray kids x reader#stray kids x y/n#ot8 x reader#skz ot8#stray kids ot8#medieval!au#a/b/o au#omegaverse#stray kids omegaverse#omegaverse skz#chan x reader#bang chan x reader#minho x reader#lee know x reader#changbin x reader#hyunjin x reader#han jisung x reader#han x reader#lee felix x reader#seungmin x reader#jeongin x reader#skz smut
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Oracle!Reader Part 25
Masterlist - Part 1, Part 24
Warning! My au is yandere and can detail gore. This chapter doesn't but previous chapters do.
The setting sun against the soft orange and yellows of the sky was a beautiful sight.
The hot wind cooled down into a warm breeze as people leisurely walked home, while others rushed to finish last minute tasks.
Inside Xinyue Kiosk, a fairly busy staff was running around as the weekend always brought more customers.Â
The only room that didn't have staff running in and out of was a VIP seating set on the top floor. A beauty for sure, but no one other than the needed servers were allowed in.
Smoke was blown into the air between two imposing figures while waiters placed a variety of foods onto the wide circular table.
âYou reported a successful mission, Yelan, and even got your payment.â Another inhale of tobacco through a pipe was followed with a lazy exhale. âYet that Oracle still walks around without fear. I don't believe the revival of the deceased is possible just yet.â
Scoffing, Yelan popped another spicy appetizer into her mouth and let Ningguang wait for her answer.
âI said they were shot off a cliff and landed with a splatter on the ground. Should I have taken a picture with a Kamera as proof too?âÂ
Ningguangâs claw-like nails tapped on the table as she hummed contemplatively. âI assume you'll resume your hunt to finish the job?â
âMy, how perceptive of the Tianquan to guess that I, who was severely injured and recently humiliated by a foreign smart mouth, wouldn't correct my mistake.â
The glowing blue dice in Yelan's hands shatters as the strings pull it apart. The hydro particles sharpen back into string as she lazily followed it with her eyes.
Her confident and unfazed demeanor wasn't suited to her beat up appearance. Bandages hidden beneath her clothing made it bulky in odd places, while her hand was stuck in a cast after it was crushed by the Geovishaps.
âThat's good and all, but are you even physically fit to track them down? I know Dr. Baizhu refused you from his pharmacy, and he's the only one capable of healing you fast enough for this.â Ningguang paused to feed herself a few bites of Tianshu meat with her chopsticks. âNot to mention, The Oracle was the one who was healed by him instead.â
âI see you enjoy rubbing salt in my wounds.â Unperturbed by Ningguangâs taunts, Yelan crossed her legs as more hydro lines wrapped around the striking scratches on her arms that were left to heal on their own.
âNot that I'm surprised by that. You always did have a sadistic streak. My rare failures are the highlight of your day.âÂ
Pastel pink lips with a forming purple bruise at the corner were licked despite the pain as Yelan smiled.Â
âBut pain doesn't stop me, you know as well as I do that it only strengthens me further. And I've had more than enough days to regain my energy.â
Concluding the conversation, Yelan pushes herself off the chair and turns away, with the snow-white coat swaying behind her.
The clink of Ningguangâs cup being set on the table was enough for Yelan to slow down. To pause just in time to hear-
âI don't want you to kill The Oracle.â
Yelan came to a full stop at that.
She had tried to ignore how calm Ningguang was throughout the whole meeting. She had tried to brush off the amount of food Ningguang ordered.Â
Furthermore, she even tried to not question Ningguang's change of vocabulary from calling Y/n âthe fakerâ to âthe oracleâ.
Ningguang only smiled politely, the exact way she knew Yelan despised, as the trinkets adorning the hydro user swayed.
âAnd no, this isn't a joke.â She never fucking thought it was a joke.
âYou'll be able to keep your payment too.â She didn't want the damn payment.
Not a trace of fear could be seen in Ningguangâs maroon eyes that stared into emerald tones that never failed to invoke a chill in enemies.
The click of Yelan's heels were the only sound heard as the tassel attached to her collar bounced.
âThen why are you requesting me to stop my pursuit?â The white and gold of Ningguang's outfit clung to her body like second skin as she took her sweet time answering.
âI was a bit too hasty in my judgment. Something greater than us both showed me my error.â
Annoying.
That's how Yelan found Ningguang at times.Â
Like she was greater than the rest. As if the Jade Chamber she spent her time in above everyone else placed her above in all other areas as well.
âAre you claiming that Y/N truly is the Oracle? Can the mighty words of the Tianquin prove that alone?â
âCareful Yelan, this kind of outburst isn't like you. I said it was greater than us both.â
Ningguang picked up her cup again and nursed it delicately.
âI simply want you to at least temporarily stop you until I'm sure of what to believe. This is just business, don't take-â
âYes, yes, I already understand. Don't take it personally.â Yelan had already cooled down at this point.
There was no use in getting worked up over this. Although it was upsetting to find that she failed this job, if the employer no longer wanted it, then she wasn't going to push for it.
Pride and personal feelings should never get mixed up in this line of work, after all.
âI'll reach out to you at a later date for your next commission.â A server placed a piping plate of Cured Pork Dry Hotpot on the table, slipping Ningguang a piece of paper. âJust be sure to give Y/N the correct instructions on how to get here.â
Yelan ignored the Tianquanâs words as she walked to the door. âWhile I won't take any revenge on Y/N, do not expect me to come running back for this mission when they are inevitably shown to be a scam artist.â
The thought of Ningguang of all people being scammed is absurd. The two words just didn't belong together.
âI'm not one of your employees. You're just a commissioner at the end of the day. You seem to forget that fact.â Green eyes met red as both women masked their own faces with polite sarcasm.
âDon't take it personally.â The soft click of the door being shut left Ningguang in silence, with only the outside's bustle of activity to accompany her.
Amusement was clear on Ningguangs face as she took another long inhale of the pipe.
âYelan never changes.â
--------------------
You didn't have much time left.
The sun was beginning to get masked by incoming gray clouds that no one seemed to notice before now.
It was funny how the first droplets started to come down on the woman you were arguing with when you asked for the time.
A single request for the time devolved into an argument about how all foreigners were suspicious and that only Morax deserved the title of Archon.
It was typical that you ended up asking the local nut job for the time. What would she even be? Racist? Godist? Archonist?Â
Maybe itâs ethnocentrism.
So you just blindly believed that the dinner must be soon and left to the restaurant after watching a stream of water single her out and dump her with water.
A shame you couldn't enjoy it with how your stomach was cramped up from the upcoming meeting with Ningguang. You haven't been this nervous since your first meeting with your boss back on Earth.
It made sense. Both people were powerful, mysterious and used people without a second thought.Â
The chilly breeze slowed your heartbeat as Xinyue Kiosk came into view, approaching the stairs leading up to the entrance, you spotted a very familiar figure next to the waitress.
Not slowing down, you walk up the stairs as jade eyes lock onto you with malice on the verge of hatred. A tsk leaves Yelanâs lips before she turns back to the waitress while pointing at you. âThis is the Tianquanâs guest. Lead them to the room.â
Nodding, the waitress waits for you as you move past Yelan who doesnât spare you another glance. Just as you followed the waitress into the entrance, the rain began to pour without warning.
You just barely caught sight of Yelan slipping on the last step due to the rain as her wet hair stuck to her skin. The door closed before she could see your little smile at her âmisfortuneâ.Â
It was a shame that Teyvat couldnât help you in more meaningful ways, but these minor instances werenât taken for granted either.
Following the waitress past multiple tables, you looked around it curiously. Usually the game just cuts straight to the room, so you never got a good look at the restaurant itself. Most of them looked to be regular customers with tables near each other.
Farther in, you could see a shift in the layout and type of customers. Larger tables with big gaps as the customers wore fancy clothing clearly made of high quality silk and cotton. A table with blue hair caught your eye the most.
A bored looking Xingqiu sat next to an older man with navy blue hair. His hair was tied in the most pitiful ponytail youâve ever seen, but at least his fancy suit looked nice.
It took you a bit but you finally remembered it as the skin from the 4.4 Lantern Rite event. You almost missed how Xingqui noticed your presence and excitedly waved at you before his father began to scold him.
Smiling apologetically, you gave a brief wave back before following the waitress up the stairs. Just how much further was Ningguangâs room? It couldnât have been cheap, that's for sureâŠ
It wouldnât be that uncomfortable to walk all this way if people could stop staring at you. Half the restaurant had to be giving you a side eye harsh enough to kill as you walked by.
Stopping at a door the waitress pulled it open as thunder roared outside giving a brief flash of white behind the window frame. Licking your lips, you entered the room while the door shut behind you with a soft click.
âIâm glad to see youâve made time to meet me, Y/n.â The voice of the source of your stress and anxiety was sweet, if not seductive. Moving your eyes from the fresh plates of food to Ningguang who sat at the head of the table, you smiled sharply.
âYou make it sound like I had a choice in the matter.â Striding forward, you took a seat on the opposite side of the table and helped yourself to the food. If you were going to die, youâd rather it be quick and with no regrets.
âI apologize for any inconvenience my request may have caused you. Iâm sure many people have wanted to speak to you after your unfortunate encounter with Yelan and Miss Shenhe.â Wow, she wasnât even trying to be subtle.
Taking your sweet time to chew and swallow your food, you leave Ningguang waiting until finally opening your mouth. âWhy donât you skip the sarcastic pleasantries? I already know your true colors, do you think the Creator is as stupid as you are?â
Fuck being nice and polite. She wants to treat you like some dumb foreigner that has no clue on the connections she holds? Then she can handle you acting like the annoyed and irritated person you currently are.
The smiles you both wear are mirror images of each other, the slightest downward tick of her lips showing her displeasure was far too easy to mimic.
âThen that makes things easier for both of us. Do you know why I invited you here to speak with me, Y/n?â
Again, you leave her waiting for your answer as you pick a few more dishes and savor the flavors. The dishes were wonderful, no doubt about that butâŠ
You missed the taste of the hotpot you shared with the Kamisatoâs more.
âI had assumed it was an apology for sending Yelan on me like a bloodhound. But perhaps you were just after certain pieces of information that I might hold.â Your mind wandered back to Beidou who had spoken to Ningguang after you gave that prophecy to Beidou on the Crux.
Although it felt like ages ago, itâs been less than a month since you left the Crux. From what you could recall, the prophecy you gave the crew was that all the monsters, Leylines and other strange behaviors were due to the Creator returning.Â
Thinking back on it, you did largely gloss over the details to avoid being caught in your lie. Maybe thatâs why Ningguang wanted you alive? After all, your words couldnât be taken lightly after what happened with the Geovishap hatchlings. But she did send Yelan after that incident so unless she was late on hearing the situation, which was frankly impossible, she must have got some new evidence-
âWell, not quite, but itâs related so why donât you listen to me before casting any judgment?â As if she was anyone to talk but interrupting her wasnât worth it. Not when you could potentially find something useful.
Ningguang barely touches the food as you scarf it down like a man starved. Instead, she takes a long sip of her tea, purposefully leaving you waiting. Talk about petty, you think to yourself sarcastically as she sets her cup down.
âRecently I had a very unusual dream, Iâve had it once before but in a much different context.â A plain soup is stirred lazily as she stares down at the rippling liquid, she looks pensive with eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly. âRex Lapis appeared to me the night that Yelan reported a job completed. Now, isnât that strange?â
You didnât stop or slow down your chewing as your heart thundered in your chest. Zhongli really appeared in Ningguangâs dream again?! This had to have been what he was telling you earlier about thanking him.
Should you thank him with a smile or a slap for making things more complicated? Itâd be easier to decide later.
With Ningguangâs expectant ruby eyes on you, you shrugged your shoulders with an easy smile. âIs it that strange? The Oracle of the Creator that we all worship had just been shot down by the orders of the Qixing that are from his own region. It would be an insult to the Creator to not step in.â
An amused hum leaves Ningguang as she listens to your words. Still not touching her soup, she set her utensils down to fold her hands. âRex Lapis did not speak to me the first time he appeared to me. But this time he did, only saying one sentence. Can you guess what it is?â
The urge to roll your eyes at the predictable question was strong but your self-control was stronger. âIt would be confirmation of me being the Oracle, of course. Anything else would be blasphemous.âÂ
âDo not be bewitched by novelties.â
The absurd and out of place words earned Ningguang your undivided attention. Your mouth opened to portray your shock and confusion, but your lips quirked to the side at the last moment in a disbelieving smile.
âAre you trying to say that, that sentence is what the Geo Archon said?â
âIt is indeed.â Oh, you were going to smack Zhongli after this, screw the consequences! âI believe itâs safe to assume that he was talking about you.â A black gloved hand with gold claw like pieces attached were outstretched to you as she smiled down at you.Â
âItâs just as you said, âIt would be an insult to the Creator to not step inâ when someone is claiming to be connected to our All Mighty Creator only to be proven false. âAnything else would be blasphemousâ no?â
Wow, you were right to hate Ningguang. Her smile became as sharp as her nails as you relaxed back in your chair. You couldnât give her anymore ammo. Any sign of hesitation, nervousness, or even a waiver of emotional instability is all she needed to corner you.Â
In fact, this could all be a bluff! Zhongli truly believed you to be the Oracle, after all. Chances are that Ningguang altered Zhongliâs message to test you. Zhongli wouldnât betray you, he wouldnâtâŠ
Would he?
âAnd how am I supposed to blindly believe your words? After all, the first time Morax came to your dream you claimed that despite how much you wanted to tell him, you couldnât say a single word.â
But it seems your reply was just a tad too late, as the heavy pounding of boots on wood flooring came from behind you. Pulling your eyes from blood-red ones to the Millelith guards now behind you, a hand grabs your hair and pushes you down.
The crack of the plates breaking and cutting into your jaw is only overshadowed by the food smearing your mask and skin. The humiliation is what really gets you riled up, but you swallow it down in favor of looking back to the modernized embodiment of mora herself.
âIs this really necessary? I wasnât even getting up from my seat.â Thereâs a slight growl to your words that you donât bother to mask as Ningguang lets her gaze move from you to the guards.
âThey have a point. Release them, I only told you to use force if they display hostility.â Ningguangâs tone of voice is even, and not the usual professional kind. The soldierâs grip tightens for a brief, painful moment, before finally letting go and stepping back.
âMy sincerest apologies for my misconduct, Lady Ningguang.â The soldier that touched you bowed to Ningguang as you glared at him. âBut I implore you to take my reasoning into consideration.â
Pushing away the now destroyed dishes as a few servers cleaned up the mess, you listened halfheartedly to the soldier. âThis person - no, this thing is the one responsible for the kidnapping and subsequent death of the most vulnerable children in this region.â
Blatantly, you sneered at the soldier while wiping off the food from your face. How dare he, a full-blown soldier no doubt trained to protect Liyue Harbor, accuse you of being the kidnapper when you were the one who saved them?!
Every soldier that you met when information gathering was more useless than the last!
Ningguang knew the truth, Xingqiu and Chongyun both told you how the Qixing were aware that you were the actual hero. Whipping your head to her, you stared at her to see just what answer she would give.
âEven still, disobeying my orders is enough cause for punishment. Return to the Ministry of Civil Affairs and have them send a different guard who can follow orders rather than emotions.â
The guard slumped at the scolding and glared bitterly at you, as you flipped him off in return. While watching him stomp away, you cursed Ningguang out internally.
She definitely knew the truth but was purposefully keeping her statements vague. Almost as if she was entertaining the idea of you being the one responsible.Â
âI want you two to guard the door so Y/n doesnât escape during this conversation. Do not make the same mistake as Zhenhai.â
It was her.
Ningguangâs the one who spread that rumor thatâs messing up your reputation. You should have guessed it earlier. Only she could have the intelligence to figure out the truth, the connections to spread her lie, and the power to make it have a physical effect.
But why? What did she gain from it?
Lost in thoughts and possibilities, you didnât notice how Ningguang observed you. Beige strands rest on her shoulders to flow down her back till the ashen tips pool on her seat. Yet the blood-red of her eyes shine with something akin to fascination as she watches your fingers thrum against the wooden table.
What a delight for the eyes.
The silence is interrupted by the door opening and fake cat ears come into view. A new soldier closes the door behind the Yueheng before standing guard as she takes a seat without asking.
âI hope Iâm not too late. It seems my invitation to this crucial dinner got lost in the journey.â Keqing began with a pointed look at Ningguang.
Smiling, Ningguang greeted Keqing in a pleasant but professional manner. âWhat an unfortunate result. At least you were able to attend now, hm? They are bringing out golden shrimp balls soon too.â
Judging by the slight twitch in Keqingâs demeanor, you can tell that she was simultaneously both annoyed and grateful. What a shame, you could have used her annoyance towards Ningguang.
âA pleasure to meet you once again Y/n, Yun Jin was very thankful for your quick and efficient help.â Smiling once youâre addressed, you nod and squeeze your hands together under the table.
Yun Jinâs name still shot a vague feeling of displeasure through your body. And Keqing acting like it was nothing only further enhanced it.
âHer show was magnificent. Iâm glad she was able to successfully perform that day.â Waiters and waitresses brought out some more drinks and refilled Ningguangâs tea without interrupting as you began to speak.
âLetâs not beat around the bush any longer. Keqing, you joined us here to help conclude whether Iâm truly an Oracle or not, right?â
Ningguang watched coolly as Keqingâs smile relaxed into nothingness, while her stare became firm. âThat is correct. But please, focus on what Ningguang brought up first concerning her dream gifted by Rex Lapis. Iâll be making my own judgment by the end of this dinner.â
Nodding, you shrug your shoulders and twirl your cup without looking at it. âThat seems fair. The outcome will be the same regardless.â The confidence behind your eyes is shown in the way you smile and relax into your seat.
âNingguang, you still havenât answered my question as to why I should even believe your dream even happened and if so, whether those words are what Morax said. But Iâll let it go for now and focus on something else for the moment.â
Jabbing a thumb behind you at the silent guard, you speak with a mock curious tone. âJust why in the world are people assuming that Iâm the one that kidnapped the children when I was the one who saved them?â
Magenta eyes meet red before both pairs turn to you. âAnd please donât treat me like a fool.â Resting your cheek on your palm, you sweetly spoke with a threat lingering in your words. âI already know that Ganyu couldnât convince you both to think it was her who saved them.â
Ningguang sighs as if disappointed in your demeanor while setting her cup down. âThe official details on the commission you took on are under wraps, just as the contract requires.â She looks down on you with her calm refusal as she finishes. âThe Liyue Qixing isnât responsible for what circulates and twists when it comes to word of mouth.â
You refuted her excuse just as fast. âI wasnât asking the Qixing or the Tianqiuan. I was asking Ningguang.â Using your fingers, you begin to count the different instances of hostility.
âIâve had people insult me, ignore me, discriminate against me, gossip behind my back and just as you saw before, even go as far as to be violent. If I went to Yanfei with this case against your personal guard Zhenhai Iâm sure I could get a good settlement and put some bad light on you. Not anything serious, but surely annoying for you and the Qixing.â
Ningguang cleverly disguises her huff of irritation as her blowing steam off her tea, but you were just a little more observant than she gave you credit for.
âShould I even bring up how almost every medical equipment possible was either sold out or out of stock? The coincidence of it happening just as I was released from Bubuâs Pharmacy is a little too much to believe-â
âYouâre still doing that Ningguang?â Keqing cuts you off accidentally to send an exasperated glare at Ningguang who only looked at her coldly in return. It seems you found something interesting to use. âItâs one thing to make my favorite dish out of stock, but itâs another to keep a medical necessity out of reach.â            Â
âSo I was right to believe that this was also your doing Ningguang?â You said with a laugh as Keqing looked confusedly between you and Ningguang who nearly glowered at you. âYou didnât tell Keqing either? Isnât that just swell, Iâll fill her in on it while you prepare your excuse.â
The way Ningguang bristled at your insult filled you with spiteful pleasure. Turning to Keqing who gave you a wary look, you began to explain with a smirk. âIt seems, while I was being hunted down by Yelan under Ningguangâs orders, the high and mighty Tianquin took it upon herself to ruin my reputation with her lies. You do remember interrogating Ganyu about who rescued the kidnapped children?â
âYesâŠâ Keqing answers with a suspicious glare as the servers placed fresh food on the table. Just how many damn servings did Ningguang order? âHow did you even know-ah it must have been those boys.â
Knowing exactly who Keqing was referring to, you just nod while piling more food onto your plate. âWell the rumor about me being the one to spread it was being perpetuated during my absence and truly came to a head when I finally returned to Liyue Harbor. I have a certain Lady Ningguang to thank for it.â You sneered while pointing at her.
Keqingâs eyes widened as she listened to you, certain things must have been made clear to her too. âThat explains why so many people came asking for an explanation on the Geovishap Hatchling incident.â Holding her chin with a pensive expression, she continued. âIt also provides a good reasoning as to why you pushed me to give that public response even when our evidence was still shaky.â
⊠Why did you get a bad feeling at that?
Just what kind of statement was released?Â
With a fixed forced smile you stare at Ningguang who frowns at you before chuckling. âThere isnât any more reasoning for me to stay silent on the matter. Calm yourself Keqing, you as well Y/n.â
Folding her hands on her lap, Ningguang stared you down as she began. âYes, I did create and encourage the rumor of you being the true mastermind behind the kidnapping. You were already beginning to become well known by the people considering how close you are to certain people and due to the false prophesy you shared with Captain Beidou.â
âNot false, my prophecy is very much true-â
âAnd while I am happy to have the children saved, we canât let you walk around spreading lies about your identity, position and relation to the Creator. Especially after the Geovishap Hatchling incident showing just dangerous you are.â
âI didnât have anything to do with the hatchlings. I was just as stunned as everyone else.â Itâs a weak argument with no evidence showing otherwise, but you couldnât let them slap that offense on you.
âThe statement released about you was connected to the hatchlings.â Keqing cut in with a grimace. âFrom what we can gather based off your past actions and achievements, you having the ability to puppeteer monsters is the most likely outcome, and we told the public as much.â
Shit.
They were so far off yet closer than anyone else.
âI canât and didnât command those Geovishaps. Even if I could, what would I gain from ordering them to do so? It puts suspicion on me. I have no motive, and it was defamation to single me out and slander me in such a way without evidence.â
Turning back to Ningguang you asked with clenched fists nearly trembling with anger. âYou havenât explained everything. What was your goal in mind with vilifying me? Just damaging my reputation is not reason enough to spend precious time and resources on me.â
The food was beginning to grow cold, but you didnât have the appetite to eat anymore. Ningguang didnât look at you, but the humor she previously had was nowhere to be found.
âItâs a shame that someone as sharp as you is using their skills for such sad and disappointing reasons.â
âThere is nothing to be ashamed of by being the Creatorâs Oracle, no matter what trial and tribulations I must face.â Wow, you even impressed yourself with how serious and authentic you sounded.
âSo you say.â Lithe fingers took out her pipe and leisurely left you waiting as you stared at her. Only after blowing it into your face did she finish. âWhat do you think would have happened if the foreigner with such a charismatic presence was suddenly found dead after rescuing children? How do you think the public would have reacted?â
Mind racing at her words, the surrounding setting seemed to fade away as your ears only picked up on Ningguangâs words.Â
âNow imagine they appear back in the city, injured but alive to tell the tale. Influential people and the like come to visit as their good deeds are spread within the city. A fresh face on the scene with information that even extended to knowing about private conversations Iâve had. How many people with grudges too high and old to handle alone would come, offering a helping hand, a mutual beneficial contract that could help the âwrongedâ foreigner?â
âHaha⊠Hahaha!â Youâre laughing before you know it. A hand on your mouth, grinning so wide that it could break your face in half. Keqingâs surprised expression as she eats and Ningguangâs stoic expression are barely processed as you keep laughing.
Itâs all so funny.
Itâs all so fucking absurd.
You werenât even greatly physically impacted by the lies. It was more like drops of water into a bucket for you.
But that bucket was already on the verge of overflowing and there was no hole for you to drain the water.
The fact that Ningguang needed to lie and make such stupid leaps of logic to libel you just so that the aftermath of your death wasnât a hassle was simultaneously hilarious and pitiful. Adding in the extra benefit of it forcing you into a corner where no one would be willing to help you was just that to her.Â
An extra benefit.
Maybe normal people would fall for the lies and not want to associate with you, but people of higher status would know better. They could tell when someone is being purposefully lied about. It was like an invisible mark on you, telling everyone that trying to help you was making an enemy of Ningguang.
That would explain why Xingqiu and Chongyun were suddenly pulled away by their families. All to corner you to being forced to meet Ningguang, forced to accept whatever accusation she wants to slap on you.
âYou really are a piece of shit.â You said with a grin once your laughing slowed to a stop.Â
Ningguang really mustnât have expected it as her face visibly contorted into shock and her pipe slipped from her fingers. Itâs understandable.
Most people in your position would already be begging for mercy, but even those who had more pride and fight would just go on a tirade and rage. To any outsider, you were far too calm for your position.
Besides, who would ever dare disrespect the Tiantquian not only to her face but right in front of the Yuheng too?
âSince you finished saying your piece, Iâll begin saying mine too. Itâs clear that you donât want to see reason or the truth for what it is.â Standing up, you push your seat away as the guards suddenly come to attention. âSince you donât want to admit that Iâm the Oracle, why donât we focus on Liyue as a whole?â
With hands behind your back, you casually walked around the table closer to Ningguang as she put her hand up to stop the guards. âLetâs start with the kidnapping case. Not only were the soldiers useless in almost every aspect, both within and outside the city, but they also canât even distinguish petty problems from the serious ones.âÂ
Stopping behind Ningguang you looked straight at the guards as you asked. âWhatâs more important? Chasing down rouge kidnappers or chasing a musician without a permit?â Both soldiers opened their mouth to answer, but Ningguang stopped them with a wave.
âThis has nothing to do with the topic on hand. Stop avoiding your own faults and sins, Y/n.â She raised her cup to her lips as she looked at you with a turn of her head.
âOh, but it does. It has everything to do with all the points you brought up.â Your hand snatched the cup from her opposite side as she glared indignantly at you. Keqings muffled laughter only made you grin wider as you returned to your seat. âThis city has a lot of problems, but I am not one of them.â
âThe fact that no one was willing to help me aside from Xingqiu and Chongyun, who both know me to be the Oracle, truly says a lot on how you and the Qixing run this city.â Sitting back down, you place the cup in the middle of the table, just out of her reach.
âSo how could I not find it insulting that I, the only person to accept this commission, the driving force behind the operation, ended up the one taking the blame for it all. All for what exactly? To corner me when you didnât even have proper reasoning to corner me in the first place?â
âWe have every right to-â
âShut the fuck up.â You snapped with a clearly disgusted face. Ningguang wasnât as shocked this time and sneered right back at you. Honestly, you envied Keqing the most, who was pleasantly eating the golden shrimp balls while watching you both.
âYou heard multiple varying information about me and continuously chose to listen to the ones that painted me in the worst light possible. Yet instead of conducting your own investigation, instead of relying on chance encounters, you sent out Yelan to deal with me, basically leaving her to deal her own judgement on me.â Throwing your hands up in the air, you nearly yell at Ningguang. âWho the hell fed only the bad information on me! Did you even tell her about how Beidou vouched for me? Or about how Beisht listened to me?â
âYelan has all the skills, qualifications, and experience necessary to do a thorough investigation and choose an accurate judgement. Youâre free to take it up with her if you want to continue pleading your case.â
This wasnât going anywhere. It was like talking to a brick wall. A very judgmental and snarky brick wall.
It seems youâll have to resort to it after all.
âYet out of all the crimes you could possibly pin me with, itâs the one on the case that I solely took on that you chose? Is it because you knew that no one in this damned city would give a shit about them? Because you knew that while no one wanted to take on the responsibility of acknowledging and helping the homeless, everyone would be more than happy to blame someone tangible for it?â
Ningguang faltered at that, it was brief but present.
âOr do you really hate your origins to that extent? Do you loathe the homeless that you once stood beside?â
Thunder roared outside as your words were spoken. The look on her face veered off the edge of hatred and into murder. The metaphorical slap your words provided werenât to be taken lightly after all.
Perfect straight teeth dug into her lips as her nails dug into her hands, uncaring for how the blood stained her black gloves till even her gold pieces shined with it.
What a delight to behold.
âHow dare you bring up this topic-â
If you canât reach her level of perfection.Â
âSpreading this level of nonsense, just how-â
Her level of composure.
âDo you feel no shame-â
 âDo you not feel any shame? Iâm not the one who left and never looked back.â
Then youâd simply need to drag her down to yours.
âI have done no such thing!â The table shakes when Ningguang slams her hands down on it, making Keqing quickly lift her plate off as the more precarious plates fell off and shattered.
Grinning, you point and laugh at her, blatantly mocking her as she flushes with embarrassment.Â
âYou really are shameless, arenât you? Floating around in your mobile home like a constant beacon of wealth and success. How do you think people feel when they see you up there? Do you think they look on with awe and envy?â
Standing up too, you rest your hands on the table to lean closer. âOr are you aware how all they can see is a symbol of the selfishness and a reminder of how mora can change a person?â
âIt bothers you that no one even acknowledged how much of it sacrifice it was to you to give up the first Jade Chamber. Let alone be willing to do it again with its successor.âÂ
Ningguangâs shaky breath before she sits back down as you mirror her actions is as satisfying as you imagined it. Especially when she no longer focuses on the main topic to instead defend herself. âIâm not and will never be ashamed of my beginnings. I have always kept the past in my mind and actions.â
âThen why did it take an outsider like me to accept the commission to save a girl to save a whole group of homeless kids that we were what? Not missing? Not important enough for the Millelith to get involved in?â
âShould I even mention the underbelly of the docks? Where all the shady deals, vagrant and poverty-stricken people live?â Clapping slowly, you finish with a sarcastic tone. âI have to hand it to you, you really know how to hide them from the public.â
If you were completely honest, you knew Ningguang wasnât that bad of a person. She was the epitome of a capitalist, and it wasnât her responsibility to care for every homeless person in Liyue Harbor.Â
Some people really did put themselves in their situations after all.
âThere's nothing I can do for those who do not wish to be saved. Even if they aren't accepting of my help, I still do my part as the Tianquan to keep Liyue running for those who do want to accept my help.â
Food sitting forgotten on the table and Keqing discreetly ordering another plate of golden shrimp balls, not a soul dared to intervene in the growing argument between you and Ningguang.
âSo by fixing the problem on the surface, your job is done? The ones who actually need help and want to better their lives are shoved in a corner to rot with the actual bad apples for the next Tianquian to deal with?â
âTwisting my words and shoving even more in my mouth to âwinâ this argument isnât the best idea.â
âDonât get so offended Ningguang, all leaders are like you. Some even worse.â A few political figures from Earth flash in your mind as you speak. Sighing, you refocus back to Teyvat, knowing that your words would be too confusing if you tried to use anyone from Earth.
âTake the glorious Raiden Shogun or whatever other titles she uses.â Sarcasm coated your words as you spoke with a drawl. âVagrants, the Nobushi and Kairagi are suffering from addictions, diseases and more without aid. Once well respected samurai that fell for one reason or another are left to suffer and commit crimes. Dying by their diseases, stealing from the poor and worse crimes are committed with the only outcomes being to die by the hands of defenders or by Tenryou soldiers.â
In your eyes, Inazuma was a mess. So many people died on the islands separate from Narukami Island. The vagrants were a constant and growing threat, most of the actual problems were solved by the traveler, yet the shogun picked a needless war that resulted in nothing but pain.
 Just how did this conversation derail from being about you being the oracle to this? It was tiring and at this point you nearly wanted to give in and just leave.
âAre you saying that you find Liyue better simply due to how it treats its people?â Ningguang asked, the slight smile on her face made you suspicious.
âLiyue isnât better. Liyue is a standard, and Inazuma is just failing horribly in comparison. But who knows? Maybe in a few decades, it can compare to Sumeru who only recently got their God.â
âSo what of the people in Inazuma? Are the Tri-Commision as bad as the Shogunate?â
âDespite the obvious bribery in both the Tenryou and Kanjou Comission, they do, do their damn job, The Yashiro Comission even goes above and beyond in comparison. Theyâre the reason Inazuma hasnât lost its entire population.â
âSo if youâre really the Oracle then how do you plan to help them?â Ningguang asks it in an analytical tone. As if she plans on judging your âplansâ when sheâs the fucking Tianqiuan.
âI donât need to make any plans. I donât have a position in Teyvat.â The retort comes with a little bite to your tone.
âYou seem so certain that youâre the Oracle that I wanted to hear what your plans were for having that position.â
Did she believe that you made up this position for your own benefit? Well yes, yes you did, but certainly not for the financial benefit she seems to be imagining. âLet me straighten something out for you, Ningguang, Cause for as high and mighty you believe yourself to be, you donât know everything. Iâm not the traveler. My job isnât to bend over backwards to do your job, itâs to prophecy about matters concerning the Creator. If the Creator told me about Liyueâs destruction and ordered me to stay silent, I would happily do so and watch every citizen drown without batting an eye, understand?â
Whatever reaction you were expecting didnât happen as Ningguang began to laugh. But it wasnât the mocking or condescending laughter she had before. Instead, she seemed truly amazed or even relieved.
âI understand now. I can now accept you as the Oracle by my own judgment, too.âÂ
The confusion and slight perturbation at her words must have been on your face as she slowed her laughter to a mere chuckle.
âI apologize for what Iâm about to tell you. You remember the dream I had concerning Rex Lapis? Well, I may have twisted his words for my own cause.â
You were fucking right, but you couldnât even enjoy it, since it took you nearly an hour to get to this point in the conversation.
âIf you werenât the Tianquin, you would be in some serious legal trouble Ningguang. I can name at least 3 different laws you almost broke.â Keqing surprisingly spoke up at this moment. Honestly, you had forgotten about her, not that she seemed to mind.
âYou can scold Ningguang after she enlightens me to what his true message was. How much mora should I bet that he was confirming me as the oracle?â Ignoring the snark, Ningguang clears her throat before snapping her fingers and motioning to the dirty plates on the table. The workers took the plates away before she dramatically rested her elbows on the now cleared table.
âNot every bewitching novelty is meant to cause harm, some lead to everlasting contracts.â
Maybe you should still punch Zhongli, what kind of help was that supposed to be?! Couldnât he be direct rather than poetic?!
âThat message was vague but clear enough for me to link it to you. Thus, I decided to invite you here to see if you really did deserve the title of Oracle and whether we could trust you or not.â
What a load of bullshit-
âI agree with Ningguang on this. While many things seemed suspicious concerning you, this conversation was helpful for us to see your real motives and future actions.â
And of course Keqing had to agree with the smirking vixen, making you calmly nod in response. This whole dinner felt like a haze to you at least point.Â
Not only did you have to prove that being an Oracle was real, attack Ningguang on several personal points and proceed with many, many leaps in logic. Just to find out, that she fucking knew the truth all along!
You werenât even going to get compensation for all the troubles she caused, either.
It was clear to you why no one wanted to mess with Ningguang outside the usual bankruptcy. She was too annoying and petty as hell for anyone to want to deal with.
âI recognize that I did you a disservice by having Yelan investigate you before this dinner. For that, I do apologize and even have an offer for you.âÂ
If it wasnât money or connections, you didnât want it.
âIâll provide you with monetary compensation as long as you give a detailed speech and answer questions about the Creatorâs return in my âmobile homeâ as you called it.â
âIf you didnât know or remember, my presence and journey here is supposed to be discreet-â
âHow does 5 million mora sound to start?â
⊠Maybe Ningguang wasnât that bad after all.
âWhen do I have to give this speech? If itâs just the members of the Qixing, Iâll do it, but not publicly.â
Distantly you can hear Keqing sigh as Ningguang smiled pleasantly at you but you couldnât hear it over the imaginary clinking of mora coming into your bag.
Money is what forced you to accept Ningguangâs offer for dinner. Much like on Earth, money is power.
It's done, it's finished and I'm even more tired then before. My last chapter was when my semester was ending and my new chapter is just as my semester is going to start. Please blame my job, my bills and Sandrock for the reason behind why this one took so long. I've been writing small things, mostly on Wattpad since it's just easy, but I feel like my writing style is constantly changing. Or it's just me again. But whatever the case, I've just been doing that to not get too rusty. Ningguang is hard to write for, mostly in relation to the reader rather then with other people. Not sure why, it just feels that way. It was a struggle to end the conversation with her but ultimately it works. Ningguang is just too canonically powerful to not have the upper hand in every way. Even still this chapter was also hard to write because I had to use so much thinking and planning to keep things consistent not only to the game but also to the other chapters. My au isn't one of extreme violence so I'm aware that it's harder to become engaged or see how threatening this version of Teyvat is. Quick update before I post, I either will answer everything or nothing as my youngest cat might need to go into surgery soon. The little vacuum ate metal while I was at work and the vet already said that if he does get surgery he might not make it.
Taglists is open as always and hopefully won't be struck down by Tumblr! [Tumblr made some changes to the tagging system so I'm not sure if it's working like before. If your name is there and not in italics yet you weren't tagged then let me know.]
@vvyeislazzy, @nikqi, @the-dumber-scaramouche, @etherisy, @yourlocalstranger123, @ra404, @iruiji, @goldenglow149, @haru-tofuu, @lsleepysimpl, @bebobeboben, @yuyuzi-ling, @amidst-the-tempest, @resident-cryptid, @mxd1zzy, @mochicurls21, @nervouseaglelover, @thedevioussmirk, @yumuramma, @kwqsla, @undecidingfate, @ehjane, @game-savvy, @akiramirae, @liansh3ng, @fluffy-koalala, @formacoon, @sxftiebee, @khxii-i, @ursinaw, @chuuya-brainrot, @sweetbills, @kazuchaos, @snowfoxnix, @bluebelony, @shellofthewell, @pencil-of-ashes, @ghostlyintervention, @taiformaifoe, @goaudduck, @carminerin, @maddysflowers, @zenith-of-all-zenith, @crazydreamcat, @leafanonsforest, @grimreapersscythe, @leylanx, @sapphireknown, @help-whatdoimakemyusername
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#whisp's amateur work#sagau oracle au#genshin sagau#genshin impact#yandere genshin impact#yandere genshin x reader#yandere#genshin x reader#genshin impact x reader#yandere ningguang#yandere keqing#I thought I made that tag?#genshin impact sagau#sagau x reader#sagau cult au#sagau#oracle au#yandere genshin imagines#yandere x reader#me just bashing inazuma in the last half#I feel like the inazuma archon quests needs to be revamped#but woohoo! Natlan!#I really hope the tags work
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Sippy Cup | Coriolanus Snow
The war never left you, so you find a way to cope. One where you never lost your childhood. One where the world is still pure and safe. And Coriolanus can't resist that innocence.
Warnings: NON-CON, Dd/lg, Little!Reader, Innocence Kink, Mentions of war, PTSD, Manipulation, Age Regression, Capitol!Reader
This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.
The first time Coriolanus catches you and Tigris playing Tea Party, you expect to find disdain in his eyes, mockery perhaps. Instead, another emotion blooms in the blondâs cerulean gaze. Curiosity.
It happens on a sweltering Tuesday afternoon, the sizzling summer rays spilling through the half-drawn lace curtains of your bedroom. As usual, you and Tigris are sitting across from each other with Teddy occupying the third seat between the two of you. He is being his sassy self, of course, complaining about the sitting arrangement and wanting more tea cakes on his plate. You scold him, reminding him what happened the last time he went on a sugar high. Teddyâs eyes are much bigger than his stomach.
Nervousness slithered through you when you confessed your secret to Tigris. You didnât want to, initially. You missed several days of class at the Capitol University in a row and your best friend grew concerned enough to show up at your house unannounced. She found you right here, playing with your dolls and chatting with your bear.
You explained to her that the pressure to be big is too much sometimes, that instead of shaking and crying on the floor of the girlsâ bathroom, you come here. Once you enter your bedroom, every single woe vanishes. Your head is empty and your heart is full. Youâre a carefree, happy little girl once more.
To your surprise, there isnât a shred of judgment in Tigrisâ eyes when you tell her. She never utters a single bad word about the neat rows of dolls and plushies adorning your shelves, your soft pink walls, your frilly dresses or the ribbons in your hair. When you reveal your little secret to her, what you did to ward off the nightmares, she simply listens, hands on her chest as her blue eyes fill with tears. You tell her the pink helps erase the red. The same red that splattered across the pavement when your parents and brotherâs bodies hit the ground during the First Rebellion. You were still holding your brotherâs hand when he fell. You held it even as his palm grew cold and stiff against yours. If it werenât for the Snow cousins prying your weeping form off his that day, you might have stayed there and met the same fate.
Tigris gave you the warmest hug. Then she asked if she could play with you, if thatâd cheer you up. You were ecstatic. Since that day, Tigris would play dolls with you, attend your tea parties and even fill out your coloring books with you sometimes. You never have to pretend with Tigris. Donât have to pretend to be a big girl. Or speak long, complicated words. Or care about big, important things. You can just be a princess in her pink castle.
Itâs why ice scatters in your veins when Coriolanus watches you and Tigris from the ajar door.Â
âYou werenât coming home, so I came to check on you,â he mumbles as he takes in the scene before him. Your face heats beneath Coriolanusâ wide-eyed stare.
Alarm flickers over Tigrisâ face.
âYou need to learn to knock, Coryo,â she chides. She whispers a gentle apology to you before getting to her feet. She nudges Coriolanus outside of your bedroom and they head to the bottom of the stairs.
Eavesdropping is bad; you know it. Good little girls donât peep or listen through the door. But you canât help it. Heart in your throat, you try to hear the whispered conversation between Tigris and her cousin. You only catch snippets. Your best friendâs voice is a little harsher than youâre used to, like sheâs a bit upset.
Donât you dare make fun of her.
She needs this, Coryo.
Stark blue eyes lock with yours from afar. Your heart slams against your ribcage. You hastily shove the door closed, rushing back to your pink wooden chair.
You pick up Teddy and cradle him against your chest. âCoryo is our friend,â you remind him. âHe wouldnât make fun of us.â Teddy is uncharacteristically quiet. You feel tears rush to your eyes, your bearâs doubts starting to creep into you.
âDo you mind if I join you?â
The deep voice rolling over you yanks you from your thoughts. Your head whips up. Coriolanusâ hunkering at your side, his head tilted in inquiry. You glance past his shoulder. Tigris is standing behind her cousin with her arms folded, her wary gaze glued to his form.Â
âJoin us?â you repeat, dazed by his question.Â
The corners of the blondâs lips lift.Â
âYes, itâs a tea party, isnât it?â
Your gaze bulges. You never expected to hear such words spilling from Coryoâs mouth. Heâs always so serious, so very serious, having no time for games. Heâs been like that for as long as you can remember.
You wipe your tears and sniffle.Â
A little defensive, you clutch fistfuls of your pink dress.
âTea parties arenât for boys. Theyâre for princesses,â you state curtly.
Coriolanusâ expression softens as he considers you.
âThen I could be a knight, from a visiting kingdom.â You purse your lips, brows knitting. The blondâs warm breath caresses your ear as he bends over you, âKnights protect princesses.â
You mull it over. Itâd be nice to have someone watch over you and Teddy, make sure no rebels storm your castle walls, paint your heart-covered walls red. You pluck your teddy bear from his stool and question him.
âWhat do you think, Teddy?â A very serious conversation silently occurs between you and your plushie. After a few minutes, you hum and nod, agreeing with him. Your eyes rise to meet Coryoâs. âTeddy says heâs okay with it.â
A bright smile unfurls on Coriolanusâ handsome face.
âThatâs wonderful, princess.â
Over time, Coriolanusâ visits grow more frequent. He even gets into the habit of bringing you gifts, like new plushies and sugary treats. Despite your reluctance to include him because heâs a boy and boys can be mean and smelly, the time you spend with him is always a highlight in your day. Coryo is never smelly; he smells like the flowers in the Grandmaâamâs garden and fresh pine. And heâs not mean. He never fails to be sweet to you, bowing to you and kissing your hand like a knight would, and always embracing every one of your games.
He becomes a fixture in your weekly tea parties, often accompanying Tigris or showing up when sheâs too busy at the workshop to make it.Â
Somehow he always finds time for you, even if you know heâs so busy with important, grown-up things. Youâre delighted. While playing alone is fun, your imagination knowing no bounds, itâs always better with a friend.
Today is one of these days. Itâs just you and Coryo hanging out in your bedroom. He spends most of the evening handing you crayons while you color in the new picture book he got you, a comfortable silence swaddling the both of you. Coryo appears content just observing you, a peaceful smile hovering on his lips. The book is full of beautiful drawings of birds and landscapes. You never had one this nice so you were beyond thrilled to start coloring it.
When the sky gets darker outside your window, you sit up. You turn to Coryo.
âItâs getting late. I guess itâs time for the tea party to end. It was lovely of you to visit us, Sir Coriolanus and we hope-â
âTigris said you were having nightmares,â he interrupts.
You go still, the crayons between your fingers clattering to the floor.
âThat was a secret,â you mutter, your chest clenching. Why would Tigris tell him that? Sheâs your best friend. She should keep all your secrets forever. As you simmer in disappointment, Coryo places his fingers under your chin and lifts it. Your tearful gaze meets his.
âYou can trust me too, princess,â he assures softly.
As you drown in his gaze, you get lost in a memory. Suddenly all the pink in your room is gone. Unmoving bodies. Gaping mouths. Hollow eyes.Â
Bright red ribbons flowing from their mouths. Crimson confetti popping from their bellies.Â
Everything in your vision becomes red.
You curl against the edge of the bed and close your eyes.
Hands on the side of your head, you take a deep breath. You slowly open your eyes again. You focus on the plushies sitting on your shelves until the somber clouds over your thoughts turn into cotton candy again.
You coax a shaky smile onto your lips.Â
âI donât want to talk about it. Can we just play?â
He chuckles.
âItâs too late for games, princess. Isnât it your bedtime by now?â
âThen I guess you should go, Coryo,â you say, resting your chin against your knees.
Coriolanus pauses, studying you for a while.
His next words are barely above a whisper.
âOr I could stay.â His large hand drapes over yours, covering your knees. âI could sleep in your bed with you.â
Shocked that heâd even suggest such a thing, you gasp.
âBoys and girls donât sleep in the same bed,â you mumble.
He cocks his head, amusement swimming in his blue eyes.
âBut Iâm not a boy. Iâm your knight, remember?â
Happiness flows through you with this reminder.
âYes, you are,â you chime.
His fingers slowly drag over your joined knees.
âActuallyâŠI could be more than your knight, princess.â His gaze locks with yours. âI could be your daddy.â
Your forehead creases, confusion mounting inside you.
âMy daddy?â
His lips twist in an uneven smile.
âYesâŠdaddies protect their little girls. Just like knights.â His fingers drift down to your ankle, the warmth of his touch seeping through your thigh high socks. âThey donât let anyone hurt their pretty princesses. And they keep the nightmares and monsters away at night.â
Amazement colors your tone with this knowledge.
âReally?â
âOf course.â He cups your cheek. âI could sleep in the bed with you and keep my little girl safe that way.â
âI could even tell you a bedtime story.â
Your eyes light up. âA bedtime story?âÂ
He fondles your cheek, his expression softening.
âOf course, anything for my sweet little girl.â
You climb into bed, your entire body shaking in anticipation. Coryo removes his shoes. He picks a book from your shelf and joins you on the bed. He gets under the covers with you and tucks your head against his chest. He opens the book to the first page, his tone patient and clear as he begins to read the tale to you. Your lids sag as you relax against Coryo, his fingers absently stroking the top of your head. You get engrossed in the story of a princess who gets lost on her way home. Lulled by his deep voice, you sink into sleep before the storyâs even done.
For the first time in a while, a dreamless slumber welcomes you that night.
When Coryoâs tall frame slips through your door that day, hope twitches inside your chest.Â
Tigris promised sheâll come today. Sheâs canceled on you so much lately and expressed how awful she feels about it, so you have been looking forward to seeing her again.
For some reason, work has been exceptionally busy these last few weeks. And while you understand how important work is to your best friend, youâve missed her so much.
However as he clicks the door shut and you realize no oneâs trailing behind Coriolanus, your shoulders slump.
The faint hope you harbored withers away.
âI thought Tigris was coming today.â
Coriolanus sighs as he inches towards you.
âI know princessâŠâ He plucks your hands from your lap. âBut there was an emergency at the dress shop. Itâs gonna keep her the whole night.â His lips graze the back of your hand. âIâm sorry, she said it was more important than being here.â
Your mouth flies open.
More important than being here? Coryoâs words drive a dagger through your chest, his sympathetic expression twisting it even more.
You lower your head. Tigris has had a lot of emergencies lately. You hardly spend any time together anymore. Part of you even wonders if maybe sheâs sick of playing with you. After all, Tigris is a big girl with many things to do. You know she dreams of becoming a stylist and thatâs likely more important than silly little girl games. You swallow the tears threatening to fall from your eyes.Â
Coryo cradles your face.
âBut daddyâs here to play with you.â
Your voice trembles as you quell a sob. You look at him, warmth flowing through your chest. Your daddyâs right. You have no reason to be sad. After all, heâs with you. Just like heâs held you against him so many times in the last few weeks, reading you stories to help you fall asleep, and cheering you up whenever you felt sad, you can always count on your daddy.
âThatâs amazing, daddy.â
His eyes seem to flare with an idea.
âActually I thought we could play a new game today.â
Curiosity widens your gaze. âA new game?â
Coryo pulls you closer, his thumb tracing your bottom lip.
âYes.â He pauses before revealing slowly, âItâs called âMommy and Daddyâ, princess.â
âMommy and daddy?â Your brows squeeze together in confusion. âTigris and I have never played that before.â
Coryo licks his lips, his gaze running over you.
âItâs a special game between daddies and their little girls,â he explains, his tone lower than before.
âI donât know it.â
A deep chuckle parts from his lips. You frown, not understanding whatâs so funny.
âI know you donât, sweet girl,â he says. fondling your cheek. A tilted smile blooms on his lips. âItâs okay because Daddy can teach you all about it.â
You feel nothing but complete trust as Coriolanus nudges you backwards until your knees hit the edge of the bed. You look up at him, a mix of confusion and curiosity written on your features. He smiles at you, sinking to his knees to remove your shoes.Â
You watch him do it, wondering why they need to be off for the game. Your daddyâs palm lingers on the sole of your socked feet, his finger traveling upward, dragging over your ankle.Â
His eyes look a little weird now, though you canât explain in what way. You frown, the air around you growing colder.
Did you forget to close the window?
He crawls over you, pushing you down on the mattress. Coriolanusâ smell surrounds you and your nose twitches. Youâre not used to being so close to him. You can make out every detail of his handsome face, trace every one of his long lashes, and distinguish every line on his face.
He scrutinizes your form beneath him, one hand beside our head while the other sweeps under your thigh.Â
âWhatâs going on, daddy?â you ask, your voice trembling.Â
âItâs a game thatâs easier played on a bed, princess.â
You give a nod of understanding. He strokes the side of your face, pride lacing his tone.
âSuch a good girl.â
He bends his head against your shoulder. You hold your breath, a little uncomfortable for a reason you canât place. Daddy drops a kiss at the base of your neck. Goosebumps spark on your skin. His kisses go lower and lower, his large hands following the same path.Â
When his fingers land between your legs, your eyes go wide with confusion.
âD-Daddy, what are you doing?â
A soft gasp leaves you as he begins to rub your cotton panties.Â
âThereâs a special place where daddies touch mommies,â he whispers. He clutches at your center and the breath dies your throat. Your body gets hotter, your belly tightening as he pinches you in a particular spot. Coriolanusâ fingers go up and down. It both hurts and doesnât hurt. Twisting and pulsing in a foreign way the more he touches you. Overwhelmed by the feeling spreading all the way to your toes, you cling to his arms for support.
His blue eyes are glued to your squirming frame as he traces circles around that little spot that leaves you feeling strange.
The hand besides your head moves, drifting to unbutton his pants. Your heart skips a beat as a part of your daddy you never saw is revealed to you. Itâs big and red at the tip. You tense, heat rushing through you as you look away.
âLook at me, princess,â he instructs, drawing your quivering chin back to him. He presses himself against your little girl parts. Whimpers spill from your mouth as he humps you through your clothes, pinning you underneath his frame.
His hot breath rolls over your face.
âHow does it feel?â
âA little weird.â You shake your head, a surge of tears threatening to break free beneath your lashes. âI donât know if I like this gameâŠâ
He frames your chin, squeezing more tightly than usual. âDo you want to make daddy happy, princess?â
âY-Yes,â you stammer.
His thumb skims over your shuddering mouth.
âThis is daddyâs favorite game to play with his princess.â
âOkayâŠâ
Your mood sinks. Youâre liking the game less and less the longer it goes on, but you donât want to disappoint your daddy who held you almost every night to chase away the bad dreams. His daddy thing gets heavier and bigger against your belly while he moves. He grunts, his throat rippling. The sensation is almost too much to bear, your vision swaying as he stimulates your little girl parts.
Daddyâs game is a little strange, youâre starting to think, and itâs making you feel weird things. Weird, tingly things. And it makes the room spin like a carousel.Â
You try to close your legs, stop the wave of strange, uncomfortable feelingsâŠBut Coriolanus wedges himself between your thighs, forcing your knees apart.
âDaddyâŠâ
His brow twitches. âShh, let daddy take care of you, princess.â His lips cover yours, smothering all your doubts. You feel bruises form on your mouth and cheek as he kisses you harshly. Lips trailing down to your neck, he pulls your panties down your legs.Â
Thereâs barely time for you to register the cool air hitting your bare center before heâs starting to push himself in. The pain strikes you mute at first. Just the tip of him is so much. Too much. It feels like you will break any second. Coriolanus pants above you, straining to fit as you squeeze around him, fear and pain throbbing through you.
âItâs okay, princess. Daddyâs got you,â he mutters.
When he sinks even further, a broken sob leaves you. A fire burns you from inside, amplifying every time your daddy moves ever-so-slightly.
Tears fill your eyes to the brim.Â
âI donât like this game, daddy. Can we stop playing, please?âÂ
He wipes your tears with soft kisses. The words pouring into your ear, while uttered sweetly, are firm. âThe gameâs not over until daddy says it is, princess.â
Your breath falters as he goes all the way inside. He hums deep in his throat, draping himself over your shaking frame. Your head lolls to the side, your eyes wandering to your dolls and stuffed animals. The abrupt urge to poke their eyes out so they donât have to see any of this blooms inside you. Tears stream down your cheeks as Coriolanus thrusts inside you. His throaty moans mingle with the slapping of skin against skin. The noises your daddy makes get louder every time he slams into you. He spreads your thighs more, pushing deeper. When you tighten around him, your daddy moans, his eyes rolling back.Â
âYouâre squeezing daddyâs cock so well, princess,â he lauds, knuckles dragging over your temple.
He goes faster, hitting sensitive parts that draw sharp noises of agony from you. Every part of your body is wide awake with pain and discomfort. Numb with a plethora of confusing, terrifying emotions, you donât move as his hips snap into yours relentlessly.Â
The game lasts for hours, it seems. Youâre thankful when daddy appears done, his movements getting sloppier as his pace slows.
As his hips stutter, his hand wraps around your jaw.Â
âDaddyâs going to come inside you, so you have to say âthank youââ
A hoarse sigh leaves him, his lashes fluttering as he empties himself inside you. You shudder.
âThank you for coming inside me, daddy,â you mechanically repeat. Bile rises in your throat as the excess gathers around your folds, pooling over your once pristine white sheets.Â
His sweaty form folds over yours. Another tear slides down your cheek.
âSuch a good girl for me.â He buries his head in the crook of your neck and coos, âWeâre going to play so many fun games together, princess.â
Your stomach curls with dread at that promise.
#dark!coriolanus snow#coriolanus snow#coriolanus snow x reader#the ballad of songbirds and snakes#hunger games#tbosas fanfiction#dark!coriolanus snow x reader
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Ok but what about Eddie dating a reader who snores and the gang is like wtf but he finds it cute.
ty for requesting anon! this is dedicated to everyone who gets sleepy at 5pm like i do hahah â eddie's girlfriend falls asleep during movie night and it's a big deal in the sweetest way (sleepy gf!reader, established relationship, 1.4k)
fictober (ă(âąÌᔄᔄâąÌ)ă)
A masked serial killer slaughters a group of pretty teenage girls. Their screams are high-pitched and painfully artificial. The murdererâs chainsaw is way too loud and far too dramatic a weapon. The bright red blood splatters across the baby pink bedroom in several obnoxiously vivid splotches.Â
Eddie Munson has never been more grateful to be alive in the golden age of slasher films â the absolute peak of godawful cinema.
He turns to the pretty little thing dozing on his shoulder and grins quietly to himself.Â
Youâre the purest essence of beauty in all forms, but especially compared to the barbaric horror flashing across the television screen across the room. In the darkness, the neon glow paints you in varying shades of blue, green, and dark red.Â
Youâre so pretty it hurts.
Eddie didnât think he could love anything more than dumb slasher movies. Not until he met you, anyway.
âTired?â he whispers to you when your lashes flutter across the apples of your cheeks.
Itâs hardly seven oâclock â the sun has just barely set over the horizon â and more than anything, the tiny trailer is filled with fake screams and faker blood. Most people would be too horrified to be so drowsy. Not you, though.
Everyoneâs always admired your relationship with sleep, but maybe just a little extra now.
Your features are blurry with the longing of slumber. They scrunch in refusal when you shake your head, cheek rubbing against the soft cotton of Eddieâs thrifted tee. âNo,â you hum with a softness that says otherwise. ââM just cozyâŠâ
Everyone knows what thatâs code for.
All the gang was over for movie night â some more begrudgingly than others (Steve, namely). The brunette boy shares a side eye with Robin on the other side of the couch before both of them turn to look at you.Â
Lucas sits on the floor and stuffs his face with popcorn, which he almost chokes on when he laughs. Max giggles at the boy in response from where sheâs sandwiched between him and Dustin.
Each of them can practically count down the seconds until youâre fully asleep.
You inhale once â deeply, sharply. The curly-haired boy turns his wrist to check his watch.Â
â7 p.mâŠâ Dustin observes with raised brows. He nods to himself like heâs impressed. âThatâs gotta be some kinda record, right?â
âIâm pretty sure she was out by six when we were at Steveâs yesterday,â Robin tells him as she leans over Lucasâ shoulder for the popcorn bowl heâs holding hostage.
âFull on snoring by six-thirty,â Steve concurs through a mouthful of candy. âAnd her legs were on my lap, too, so I couldnât move for, like, two hours.â
âWhat about last movie night?â Max questions with pinched brows. âIâm pretty sure she was asleep before it even started.â
Lucas shakes his head. âShe was just napping, right? Iâm pretty sure she woke up, like, halfway through.â
Dustin nods â the official connoisseur of you and all your sleepiness. You had been asleep by the time Steve turned The Outsiders on, but your internalized love for Dallas Winston had woken you part of the way through.Â
âIt had to be scrubbed from the records,â the boy explains like itâs something a whole lot more official than you just being tired. âIt only counts if she stays asleep.â
âWhat if her eyes are closed, and sheâs using your arm as a pillow, and you donât have any feeling left in your fingers?â Robin questions with narrowed eyes, recounting the events from the last movie night in question. âWhat about that?â
âStill doesnât count,â Dustin shakes his head with a feigned sympathy.
Eddie listens to them with a distant smile on his face. Theyâre not making fun of you exactly, just noticing all your little idiosyncrasies that he loves so much. Itâs what makes you you â the quiet, sleepy girl thatâs all but the glue of the group.Â
If youâre somewhere else when everyoneâs all hanging out together, and not snoozing on someoneâs shoulder, something just doesnât feel right.
âIsnât she the fuckinâ cutest?â the boy muses amidst the light-hearted banter, the horror movie long forgotten.Â
His bright smile and twinkling eyes are met with a group of deadpanned stares.Â
It isnât because you arenât cute, because you are. Why else would Robin and Steve let you use them as pillows even after their appendages have long gone numb? Youâre like a cat sleeping on their stomach â itâs too much of an honor to wake you.Â
Their dumbfounded gapes are more so a result of Eddieâs adoration for you. Because youâre you, and Eddieâs⊠Eddie.Â
Youâre polar opposites.Â
Youâre quiet and sweet and gentle, and Eddieâs never been any of those things once in his life.Â
Youâve brought out a softer side of him â one that none of them thought a brash metalhead like him could ever have. He talks to you far sweeter and far more gently than heâd ever speak to the rest of them. Mostly because he knows you get spooked too easily and that you always wince whenever people yell. And his PDA is an innocent kind, full of held hands and forehead kisses and boops to the tip of your nose.Â
Eddie Munson is so soft for you that he lets you drool on his shoulder and unknowingly steal all the covers from him when you fall asleep during movie night.Â
Heâs so far gone for you that heâll let you drag him to bed when most people his age are heading out to party for the night â just so you can drool on him and take all the covers from him in his bedroom, where you can sleep more comfortably than on the couch.
Itâs all so sweet, itâs downright disgusting.
âItâs gross how in love the two of you are,â Steve monotones, the only one brave enough to say it out loud even though theyâre all thinking it.
âI know,â Eddie affirms with a wide grin. âItâs amazing, huh?â
They all grumble under their breaths about it, obviously not as mushy with adoration as he is.Â
It isnât his fault theyâre miserable because they donât have their own soulmate who gets tired at 5 p.m. and snoozes on their shoulder accordingly. Theyâd be a lot less crabby if they had someone like you to gush about.Â
Not you, though. âCause youâre his and everything. But someone just like you, maybe.
Everyone dissipates when the credits of the movie start to roll â either to get more food, or use the bathroom, or stretch their aching limbs.Â
Eddie stays unmoving. He doesnât want to wake you up.
You begin to rouse on his shoulder, shifting as you wake with a deep inhale-exhale. Your eyes flutter slowly open, and through the haze of sleep, you notice the empty living room and the scrolling names on the television screen.
ââS the movie over?â you question, slurred with the heaviness of slumber.
Eddie nods lazily against the couch.Â
Heâs about as tired as you are now, with his legs cocked up on the coffee table and his head lolled back against the cushions. âYeah. Itâs okay, though. You didnât really miss anything,â he assures with a crooked smile.
âDidnât mean to fall asleepâŠâ you murmur, like youâre embarrassed to have slept so soundly.
âI know,â the boy hums softly to you. ââS okayâŠâ
Your temple rests against his shoulder once more. âWake me up before you start the next movie?â you ask when Eddie presses a lingering kiss to your hair. Your eyes are already fluttered shut again.
âSure,â he answers, despite lacking any real intention to wake you.Â
Heâd much rather let you sleep. He knows you need it. He doesnât mind that you get tired before the sun has set, even though he knows how much you hate it. He couldnât love it more, personally.
So, he lets you fall back asleep on his shoulder and tries to ignore how much it makes his heart swell. His ribcage shakes with the intensity of how much he loves you â how privileged he feels that you trust him enough to drool on his shoulder and not be embarrassed about any of it. You know he loves you too much for any of that.
âShe still asleep?â Steve questions when the gang settles back in the living room. He rattles M&Ms in his palms before chucking a handful into his mouth. When Eddie nods, the boy snorts. âIâm glad itâs your arm falling asleep this time and not mine.â
Eddieâs glad for it, too.
#published by bug#eddie munson x reader#stranger things x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson#stranger things#stranger things imagine#stranger things fanfic#stranger things fic#stranger things fanfiction#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson fic#eddie munson fluff#st drabbles#eddie spaghetti drabble#event: fictober!
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DP x DC prompt:
Daniel was seething. It's been a year since he left the league and they've already found him. Well, it was his mother who found him. Not that that was any better but at least it wasn't Grandfather.
It also shouldn't have taken him so long to dispose of those soldiers. They weren't even that capable. Far below his level and yet he struggled. He needed to resume his training soon or else he would become rusty.
He cursed himself for getting too comfortable with civilian life. Not that his life was comfortable, far from actually.
He had been adopted by a pair of mad scientist with no concept of lab safety; and for all the intelligence they had, they couldn't fathom how to properly take care of a child, leaving their daughter to take care of herself and now her newly adopted sibling!
He sighed. He was starting to get angry. He couldn't afford to get angry. Especially not at Jazz. She was only two years older than him and was doing her best. She's also the only good thing in his life right now meaning that he had to cherish her, not break her. (He wouldn't be like his brother)
His mind stayed on Jazz for a while before immediately increasing his speed. He really needed to resume his training. How could he be so slack to forget such a possibility! Daniel desperately hoped that his sister Jazz was okay and that they wouldn't dare.
Entering through his bedroom window he rushed straight to Jazz's bedroom. It was open. She wasn't there.
Daniel started to panic when he heard a muffed scream coming from downstairs. Adrenaline coursed through his veins as he rushed down the stairs and into the kitchen.
In all honesty Daniel expected the worse. To see his sister Jazz dead on the floor, thick red gushing from her neck, the scent of blood in the air. And there was blood, it just wasn't her's.
Daniel always prided himself on having a vivid imagination. It was a great way to escape after an especially hard training session with his brother. But he would have never imagined this.
In the small, laughably suburban kitchen of the Fenton household was a sight to behold. In the air were two mangled bodies, unidentifiable if not for the league's emblem still visible on one of them. And on the wall was a splatter, a rather big one. It wasn't blood. It was too dark to be. But whatever it was was very unlucky.
In the center of the kitchen was Jazz. Her arms were outstretched, burning sigils rotating at the end of each palm. Her eyes glowed a bright icy blue.
Upon noticing him everything stopped. She looked fearful. Tears threatening to come forth.
"Wait I can explain, just don't tell mom or dad! Please!"
Daniel, still a bit shocked but not as much, simply walked into the kitchen towards the cupboard. Taking out a clean towel he unsheathed he sword and began to clean it.
He looked over his shoulder towards Jazz. She didn't look as scared but her eyes still held some fear. So he spoke, making sure the still bloody sword was in veiw.
"I won't tell if you don't." He flashed a grin his tiny fangs peaking out.
Jazz sighed as in the weight of the world was lifted off of her. She looked at him and smiled.
"Mom and Dad aren't going to be back for a while. Wanna help me clean up?"
#dp x dc au#dp x dc#dc x dp#dcxdp#dpxdc#dp x dc crossover#dp x dc prompt#demon twin au#danny and damian are twins#john constantine#jazz is john constantine's daughter#he promised his first born child so many demons it isn't funny#jazz first encountered a demon at the rip age of 3#she hasn't had a peaceful day since#she doesn't think of jack and Maddie as her parents but calls them mom and dad out of obligation#she didn't like Danny at first but grew to like him and visa versa#Danny had it rough in the League#he wasn't bad Damian was just better#despite how much he loved his brother Damian never loved him (or so he thinks)#he escaped the league after finishing a mission#he's been exposed to the pits so much he's already liminal#they've been through so much#codependency x 2
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Missing
Tim was missing
Tim has been missing for over 5 months now. This wouldn't be a usual concern for them if he had said he was going. After the whole going off the rails searching for Bruce when everyone thought he was dead and ending up blowing up League of assassin bases thing, Everyone decided it was best that there was a check-in. Gotham Vigilantes used the same system for the missions as the Justice League but after everything went on they decided to make their own.
They had a log on the bat computer for longer missions so people know where they're going. The check-in is usually once every 2 weeks if it's a deep cover Mission with trackers on at all times, but there has been nothing from Tim.Â
Everyone didn't really notice at first Tim left at a very busy time. Tim texted regularly in the first week and kept up with everything that was going on, that most of them thought he was still in Gotham.
When everyone noticed he wasn't there they thought it was just a regular mission, but when Babs needed him to double check something on a case file and realized he wasn't on the roster for no contact missions she started to get worried.
Apparently the last time anyone had seen him was when he was in the bat cave for a drug screening after a very bad scarecrow attack. His trackers were offline. All of his emergency buttons and trackers were sending a signal even if it was not trackable.
The most worrying part was the silence. usually they would hear some whisper if they'd been captured or God forbid if he was dead but there was nothing. Everyone tried to use every contact that they could think of but no one could find anything.
until nowÂ
Every single tracker on Tim lit up like a Christmas tree. It took barely a minute for everyone to start dispatching themselves to find him. Jason and Cass were the ones that were chosen to go. Tim ended up in an abandoned Laboratory. Everything they could find on the building in the paperwork was said to be abandoned just before building was finished. the second they saw the building in person you could tell that was wrong. it was definitely abandoned now but it looked like the people left in a rush. the people working there probably left a day or two ago. The dust barely just started to form.
When they looked on the trackers he looked to be in the basement level. As they walked through the building it was like every floor looked like it had been copy and pasted. Every room had white walls so it was easy to see the splatters of blood in the hallway leading to the room they were looking for. They were very concerned. The blood had specs of green that seemed to be luminescent even though the blood was dried. they feared for the worst.
Jason opened the door and looked inside with Cass not far behind. The room had white walls like the rest of the building but instead of the normal White/ yellow headlights from the rest of the rooms they were bright Blue. There was blood just like the hallway even down to the luminescing green specs. The room had two chairs on the side farthest from the door and a bed in the furthest corner. Tim was laying on the bed and looked to be staring at the ceiling. He had made no move to interact with them even as they got closer.
 âReplacementâ Jason whispered to Tim once he was by the bed. When Tim didn't respond he grabbed his rest to feel a pulse.
Even though it looked like he was breathing it could be his mind playing a trick on him. Jason needed to feel his pulse.
Jason felt the pulse, it was slow but it was there. Jason looked over to Cass and said âhe's alive all rightâ.Â
Relief very clearly in his tone. Cass's shoulders relaxed only a little after hearing that.
They looked him over trying to figure out why he wasn't responding. His heartbeat was slow like he was asleep but Tim was a light sleeper unless he was knocked out or drugged he usually woke up the second someone touched him.
he didn't look to be hooked up to any machinery and the place had been abandoned for at least the day before they arrived. he wasn't even wearing his vigilante outfit, he was in civilians clothes.
Once they realized they were getting nowhere with this they looked around the room as it was becoming clear they couldn't wake him up nor was he an immediate Danger. They decided to look around only the rooms near the one that Tim was contained in to make sure that there weren't other people there as that floor seemed to be a containment unit.
Jason decided to look in the other rooms while the Cass stayed in Tim's in case he woke up. As Jason left to search, he looked around the room. she ended up finding Tim's bag underneath the bed pushed to the furthest corner away from the door.
Cass sat down on the floor with her back leaning on the side of the chair. She searched through the bag. The more she looked through the more confused she got.
She couldn't find Tim's phone neither civilian nor hero. She couldn't find his laptop but she did find a tablet that she knew Tim hadn't had before. she would question if this was Tim's bag if not for the wallet and ID she found in the front pocket.
She found small things like a package of tissues, a water bottle, chapstick and some of Stephanie's hair ties. Cass could tell that they were Stephanie's due to the fact they were all purple.
She found a hidden Pocket as she was looking through the lining of the bag. It looked to be a syringe filled with glowing green liquid. The same green that seems to be in the blood from the hallway. In the same pocket there seems to be a folded file with medical scans stuffed in between. As Cass went through the bag there was one question that had been on her mind since the beginning.
 Why was Tim here?
#dc x dp#danny phantom#dcxdp#dpxdc#dp x dc#dc x dp crossover#batfam#batfamily#please add on#will i finish it? who knows#do i have plot? yes#will i explain the plot? no#i what see what people think the plot is
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