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dragonsholygrail · 2 months

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In The Darkness

Shadow demon x fem!reader— sensory deprivation, multiple orgasms, bondage (cuffs), groping, fingering, oral (f!receiving), p in v sex, finger sucking, aftercare

Your shadow demon bf had opened your eyes and welcomed you into a whole new world of pleasure that was just waiting to you both to explore. And you have. You’ve done things you never thought you’d enjoy due to the love and trust you have in your bf. In return you’ve gained so many new experiences that you’d never want to take back.

At this point you’ve pretty much stopped asking questions whenever your shadow demon bf proposes that he wants to try something new with you. But this time you think you have to ask some questions.

Because when your shadow demon bf tells you that he wants to fuck you in complete darkness, you’re insanely confused. Sure, you two have never done that before. Always having on at least a candle so that you can see each other as your bf fucks your brains out. But this is far from the craziest thing you two have ever done and it’s left you having no clue what’s going on.

Still, you trust your bf. You follow his exact instructions and you relish in the submission of it. Of letting go of all thought and action, your bf’s voice being your only guiding light. Especially as the darkness surrounds you and it’s the only true thing you can grasp onto.

Tingles shoot up your spine. A smirk begins to play on your lips as you realize the possible appeal. A eery chuckle shifts through the darkness and you jump as a moment later two clawed hands firmly grip onto the waist of your bare form. The prickly tips of sharpened claws caress up and down the curve of your stomach, leaving sparks in their wake.

“What a vision you are in the darkness, my heart. Now do you see mine?” Your bf’s haunting yet alluring voice whispers in your ear. Goosebumps rise along your skin and your smile widens, getting a sense of his intentions with this newest request.

His touch as gentle as the wind, coursing through the pathway of your body till he reaches your breasts and the caress turns firm and purposeful. Groping you and pulling you tightly into his large chest. Your grasp rings out through the dark silent space. It’s echos vibrating and increasing the tension between you.

Leaning back into the comfort of his embrace, you moan. Nothing else to turn to, to focus on, besides his touch. Bringing the sensations to a new height till you’re writhing against him before he’s even done anything to you.

“Near total sensory deprivation, the only real thing being my voice. All of your senses now completely at my mercy,” Shadow demon bf rasps darkly, finally giving you some of his reasoning behind all this.

You have to admit that the idea of it is arousing and your body agrees as your pussy floods with your essence. Always so nice and wet for him, you can’t help it. Everything he says has your nerves standing on edge and your cunt fluttering and begging to be filled.

Careful claws tease and tweak at your nipples, whimpers escaping you as you tremble in his secure hold. You cry out, rubbing your thighs together to gain any semblance of friction you can get. Yet it’s not enough, your hole so achingly empty and needing to be stuffed full. Your mind grows foggy and centers in on this one desperate thought.

“Lost in the void and who is the only thing that can ground you?” Shadow demon bf whispers into your ear again, his forked tongue slithering out and licking along the smooth curve of your ear.

The sensation is quick, tantalizing, and gone far too soon. You whimper, leaning back into him. Your body, floating as if on cloud nine, seeking out that skilled tongue of his. Knowing with every fiber in what’s left of your present being that you’ll get it. So long as you’re good for him.

“You are,” you croak out, voice weak and wanting.

A low rumbles moves through your bf’s chest in agreement, clearly pleased with your willing and eager response. The loss of his touch on your breasts, on your hard nipples, is a hit your floating mind can barely handle. A loud whine escaping you until his cool touch returns, moving along your curves. The further down he goes the less you can breathe, simply waiting.

“That’s right, my starlight,” he says as his deft fingers dip into your folds, spreading them and spearing themselves along your slit. Your breath knocks out of you, exhaling heavily as he ignites the nerves of your pussy lips. They clench and contort around him, mindlessly guiding the digits to delve inside your hole.

Shadow demon bf chuckles at the feeling, causing your cheeks to tinge with red. Thankful that even if he can feel you, he won’t be able to see you in your lewdness. Another thing the darkness around you provides. Another thing you’re looking forward to. Your bfs voice and the slow glide of his fingers snaps you out of your thoughts.

“You overwhelm me, sweet one. You are all I feel and all that grounds me to this plane. I believe it’s time I repay the favor.”

Shadow demon bf’s fingers don’t leave you as his other hand guides you to bend down at the waist. Your own arms reach out, carelessly searching through the darkness until you find it. Fingers curl around the metal cuffs suspended in front of you. The click of each lock as they enclose around your wrists has your back arching, bracing yourself for what’s to come.

“Look at you, so good and ready for me,” Shadow demon bf mumbles, drawing lazy circle against your clit as he kneels down on the ground behind you. You whimper and push back, though his free hand is quick to grab at your plush thigh. Keeping you in place.

His keen eyes reflect in the darkness, giving him access to view everything in front of him. Yet you remain completely clueless. Just how he wants you. Your legs spread further as his fingers slide back down your slit, giving him the sight of your beautiful dripping pussy. Your essence dribbling down your thighs and making such a mess. A mess he’s more than ready to clean up.

In an instant that tongue you’ve been waiting for is back and it’s back with a vengeance. Your body jolts, cuffs clanging and ringing in your ears, surprised by the sudden slick texture of his forked tongued sliding along your thigh and pushing through your folds. Not having expected more than his touch at the moment. The darkness riding you of knowing what’ll happen next.

Though your anticipation doesn’t have time to build as shadow demon bf glides his tongue through your folds, swirling around your clit in a mind-numbing manner. You moan, body rolling into the sensations but not knowing where exactly to move. Leaving you to squirm in search of your bf.

Shadow demon bf grins viciously and you can feel it against your cunt, knowing his enjoying this. Loving how you struggle and silently beg for more of him. His hands shift to your hips, both keeping you in place and letting you know where he’ll be.

All you get in warning is a growl before your bf begins ravaging your pussy, sloppily lapping up your cunt. His hands spread your ass cheeks, widening the entrance for his tongue to slide deep inside your weeping pussy. Pressure weighs down in your belly as your pleasure builds, rising onto your toes and giving him better access.

He grunts his thanks and repeats his rhythm with precise precision and never ending stamina. He doesn’t stop fucking his tongue into your cunt until you explode around it. Your walls clenching around his tongue, your essence gushing onto his tastebuds. Shadow demon bf growls and unhinges his jaw, taking in every last damn drop and working you through it.

Both of you are breathing heavily as your orgasm begins to fade and your bf leans back. You still can’t see, hear, or feel anything beside the cold metal around your wrists. The only noise your breaths. Aside from that the silence stretches on and it has the hair on the back of your neck standing up straight.

“Ready for more?” Your bfs voice suddenly growls in your ear and you shout. Body jerking back and you immediately bump into his broad frame and right into his huge girth. His erection nestling against your ass.

Your eyes scatter and search the surroundings over the shoulder you hear him from but you can’t see anything. Only darkness. Before you can respond your bf crashes his lips against yours and you let out another muffled shout. But you respond without a beat of hesitation, opening your mouth and welcoming his tongue back inside your body. Both of you moaning into it as your cum tickles your own tastebuds.

Shadow demon bf’s cock slowly starts grinding into you, neither of you breaking your kiss. You stay perfectly still for him, keeping yourself wide open and needy for his length. Still not getting your fill of wanting to be split in two.

With your body all prepped for him, your bf guides his dick through your folds. Whimpers leaving you as his tip bumps into your sensitive clit. Your bf nips at your tongue affectionately before you feel his big mushroom tip, leaking heavily with pre-cum, push at your entrance.

With a simply push forward, your bf breaks past your entrance, sinking down into your eager sopping cunt. Your jaw drops, a loud moan lights the room up with noise as his cock stretches your walls for all their worth. Forcing its way in and demanding you submit to its sheer girth and the pleasure it’ll bring. You relax as much as you can, practically sucking him inside of you.

Shadow demon bf growls, your walls nearly suffocating him you’re so fucking tight. When he bottoms out his tip nudges at your cervix. The pain sharp and aching but so delicious. You close your eyes, basking in it all. You feel so full and so complete with him inside you.

Your breaths mingle and mix in the space between your mouths. Eyes open you continue trying to search for your bf in the dark, even knowing it’s useless. Wanting to see how much of a mess you make him and even maybe wanting him to see just how thoroughly he destroys you.

By the way he draws you, making you feel every thick and bulging vein along his cock against your walls before roughly snapping his hips back inside you, you almost swear he can see you. That he knows how much of a mess you truly make him. But that’s impossible right?

All worries and thoughts leave you in the blink of an eye as Shadow Demon bf starts up his demolishing pace. Claws carefully sinking into you to keep you steady. A loud roar rumbles through the room and you jump in your bones, which only serves to push your body back into his intense thrusts.

Your bf grunts, clearly approving and you cry out as he starts moving your body back into his cock, having you meet the rough rolls of his hips. Your body tenses, cunt clenching down around him and having you feel even more full.

Tossing your head back, your teeth clench, pleasure crashing through you in waves you can’t even think to stop as there’s nothing else for you to ground yourself with. Your lost in the sea of pleasure, tingling sensations of arousal pulsing within your body and spreading out over and over again.

Your bf watches your body twist and contort in order to take his giant cock and everything it’s making you feel. A twisted satisfaction burns through him at how much of a beautiful mess you look. The sight has him picking up his pace, slamming his length inside you, molding your perfect pussy to his shape. Making his home here and showing you he’ll never leave.

Moans and cries of pleasure are no longer enough as you release a fierce scream. You can faintly hear your bfs low groan, his voice feeling so far away. Lost in the abyss your hands try and reach for something— anything. But the clang of the cuffs is all that rings true. Sparking an idea in your mind you try and reach forward, hoping you can ground yourself by placing the chain of the cuffs in your mouth.

But just as you reach it, Shadow demon bf pulls you back and burys his cock back inside your crying and begging cunt. Emotion wells up inside your chest and you sob, tears coming to your eyes. Your body moves back into your bfs chest and his voice comes back down to your ear.

“Sh, sh, sh, my love. It’s alright, you’re alright,” he whispers soothingly, hand coming up to stuff a few of his large fingers into your mouth. You whimper, sucking eagerly, letting the sturdy size of his digits ground you back down to earth and help calm you down.

His other hand soothingly caresses your stomach as he continues to fuck into you, his pace not slowing down for a second. Making sure to take care of all your needs at once. Small whimpers continue to leave you, feeling better as his presence surrounds you and stays in your mouth and pussy. You move back into his thrusts again, all on your own.

Tendrils of darkness creep up from the deep and curl around your body. Having been used to them they only provide further comfort to you. One long tentacle wraps up and strokes at your clit, bringing you closer and closer to orgasm. With a firm press of his hand on your stomach and a few more snaps of his hips, you scream once more, this time around his fingers as your orgasm bursts through you.

Your cum paints Shadow demon bf’s cock, your walls spasming and clenching down on his length. Sparks shoot up his spine and his teeth sink into your shoulder as he follows right after you into climax, his heavy load splashing deeply against your womb and filling your pussy even more than you thought was possible. His hips still rocking into you until you both sag into each other.

Shadow demon bf slides out of you gently but you still hiss at the slight sting. As your combined release spills out of you, you shiver and clench down to keep it inside of you. Your bf lights the room with a snap of his fingers and you breathe a sigh of relief as your senses come back to you. As gently as always, he unlocks you from the cuffs. Massaging your wrists and kissing them adoringly.

He guides you to bed, whispering praises, recounting every moment of what just happened through his eyes. Letting you know how good you did, how perfect you were for him, how absolutely gorgeous you looked then and now, and asking how you feel to make sure you’re alright.

Pouring endless praise and love onto you as he cleans up the mess between your thighs before he sweeps you up into his arms the moment you two get into bed. Pressing soft kisses all of your face and sore body. It’s only as you finally relax do you register all his words.

“Could you see me in the dark?” You ask incredulously, voice slightly raspy as you connect the dots. Your bf chuckles and you squeeze your eyes shut, dreading his response and forcing your own laughter down.

“‘Course I could, sweetheart. I’m a shadow demon,” he responds with amusement but your loud groan quickly overshadows his laughter. Red blooming across your chest and up your neck till it spreads all across your face. Your bf merely laughs louder, his hands caressing your back. Wanting to comfort you some before the inevitable teasing begins.

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cattlemons · 1 month

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When The Tide Returns Lost Memories

| Wriothesley awakens in a foreign land with fragmented memories and a desperate need to return to someone he can't quite remember.

TW: Memory loss, unspecified violence, not proofread, 4k words of hurt and comfort

a.n. saw this post by @cyb-rdva about this fic idea. I just got a buzz and felt like writing it! I don't really know how permissions work on here but I hope I did it justice!

Wriothesley’s eyes find the crippling light as he squints away the last remaining darkness, pushing it to the back of his mind once more. Finally feeling himself take a breath, he hears himself grunt awake; much like a machine starting up after months of disuse. Creaking and clanking to a sitting position, he feels the cracks of his bones and the bruises of his injuries sting him.

Where am I?

Disoriented beyond belief, he let his eyes collect a view of his surroundings. The gears of his brain churned and turned but, to no avail, he’s completely lost on where he is. Panic seized him as his parched throat let out a hoarse yell– he doesn’t know who exactly he was trying to reach out to but, dear archons, let them be nice.

The door opened just as he finally found enough strength to stand. Training his eyes onto the green-headed figure by the door, his focus was sharp despite the delirium he had experienced not long ago; the tendons of his feet ready to leap like a coiled spring waiting for the undoing.

The green-haired man placed his two palms out, ducking ever so slightly to make himself look as small and harmless as possible. Wriothesley assessed the situation with the sense of a trained warrior, looking the man up and down before releasing his tightly clenched fists, letting the white fade to a warm red.

Wait a second!

Wriothesley pounced at the tall man and knocked him over to the ground, the thud of their fall resounding throughout the room. His knuckles which are covered with hidden bruises and healed cuts saw the light of day after a long time being hidden. Choking the man, Wriothesley sneered and gruffed, “Where’s my gauntlet, NOW! WHAT ARE YOU TRYING TO DO?”

The man flailed helplessly beneath him as he clawed at his bound neck, searching for escape. Before anything else could unfold, both men were pulled apart; the lanky man by a man in Liyuean garment and Wriothesley by a purple child.

What the fuck is going on?? SHIT, WHERE IS SHE? I NEED TO FIND HER! I NEED TO TELL HER...!

Huh? Who? Tell her what?

The child made some sort of listless remark but Wriothesley was not aware of what she said. His ears rang deafeningly as his vision wavered. His consciousness was escaping him and his panic and fight whittled down and numbed itself, leaving a sense of nothing in its wake. He can’t help but mourn if this is to be his last moment of living. What kind of defeat was this? Surely, he deserved a better battle to die on.

His mind winds down slowly, unfinished strings of thoughts urging him along from what topic to the next before gently placing him right on the edge of consciousness. Dreary and barely awake, he wonders if anyone can hear his last words and wishes. If he could, he would’ve chuckled dryly, even now on his deathbed (or rather death-floor) he is still nothing but an orphaned boy with no one to mourn for him. Dust returns to dust, he supposes.

As he feels his eyes wane to a close, the only thing on his mind is a name with a face left unplaced and undecided, oh how he loved her.

WAIT! WHO? HOLD ON!

He was out cold, now.

—

The second time he awoke, Wriothesley was ready for a fight. Whatever foul play, or trickery used on him that first time, won’t get him twice. Raring to go, Wriothesley opened his eyes wide and ready to jump into a fighting stance, only to be stopped by a pair of cuffs chaining him to the bed.

Something! He needs to find SOMETHING?!

Controlling his uneven breaths, he forced and willed the adrenaline pumping in his veins to subside; there’s no use for it if he’s bound and alone, anyway. For now, he chose to focus on locating where he was and (more importantly) where his gauntlets were. Sure, the normal man can’t hope to survive a fight against him but something within him is anxious to be away from it. He almost feels physically ill without it.

Damned wrist decorator causing me separation anxiety. Just like a damned dog.

At the sound of a creak, he snapped his neck towards the open door. Behind the heavy timber, stood the green-haired man he has yet to learn the name of (but rest assured if he’s come for a round two, Wriothesley is ready to choke him; this time to sleep). Fortunately for everyone in the vicinity, the man had no ill will. With the patience of a saint, the man stepped into the room, carrying with him a bruised neck and a handful of medication supplies.

Setting his things down on a table, he watched Wriothesley with calm eyes. The same cannot be said for Wriothesley whose sharp steel irises were pointed at him. Muscles rippling in tandem, Wriothesley pulled at the cuffs that kept him in place. Truth be told, the steel keeping him bound to the bed may just snap in a few more strong pulls had the child from “yesterday” not stepped in, this time clearly brandishing a syringe swirling with translucent liquid.

That shut him up quickly.

Relatively calm now (and sedated), the thin man slowly inched closer to Wriothesley, pushing back his glasses from his nose while at it. With a slightly quicker heart pace, he explained in a rushed tone, “I am Baizhu, a local physician of Liyue and owner of The Bubu Pharmacy. We’re located in Liyue Harbor. We found you unconscious outside our pharmacy so we decided to take you in.”

This “Baizhu” figure looked to his side at the small purple child as if to see whether or not he’d forgotten something. The two seem to be close because without missing a beat, the child showed him a page of her book. This seemed to jog the man’s memory as he continued, “Ah, yes. Your weapons and, ahem, gauntlets are in our safekeeping. They were badly damaged so we were worried the bones hidden underneath weren’t fairing all too well, either, please don’t misunderstand.”

Taking his words in, Wriothesley felt a slight bit of guilt for almost beating the guy up. The man, however, doesn’t seem to be waiting for an apology, rather, his eyes gleamed in a sort of curiosity. Wriothesley supposes he would be the same way if the situation had been flipped and this Baizhu man showed up half-dead at the doors of Meropide.

Wait, Meropide! Shit, MEROPIDE!

“Sir, how long have I been here?! Please, answer me!”

Baizhu’s eyebrows scrunched in slight perplexity and hesitation, he wasn’t too keen on agitating the man again.

“Well, we found you on the sixth and today’s the nineteenth, so, about two weeks. Yes,” he answered, stepping away, in case the mild sedation was, indeed, too mild a dose.

Shit! That’s way too long for me to be away! I won’t be surprised if the place is in shambles by now. Fuck, I need to get back! I NEED TO GET BACK! IS SHE OKAY? I NEED TO APOLOGIZE!

To whom?

Fighting against the effects of the syringe, Wriothesley tensed his forearms and willed them to move. Against his better judgment, Baizhu saw this and went to undo the locks of his cuffs. He supposes, that if he’s going to break through the chains, might as well take it off him to prevent any further injury.

“Though I am uncuffing you, sir, I suggest you take it easy in the meantime. You have a long list of blunt traumas all over you and from the looks of it, your memory isn’t too intact. I don’t know what happened to you or where you want to rush off to with your weapons but I would be an unfit physician if I allowed you to go anywhere outside my supervision for the time being. At least, let me help you remember so I can send you off with a clear mind on your shoulders.”

“Please, just calm down, when I release you, alright… there...”

Arms now freed, Wriothesley calmed down significantly; somewhere in his mind, he felt safer knowing he could beat someone to a pulp if need be. Finally feeling safe enough to be civil, he decided he’d stay long enough to get some answers and his weapon and memory back. Wriothesley knew it’d be best to stay. He can’t be so sure he’ll find a physician who knows enough of their field of study to claim they can help bring back his foggy memories. That said, he won’t be wasting any time.

“Mr. Baizhu, please tell me what you know about my… umm… predicament. I don’t quite enjoy being puzzled this way. Also, the gauntlets, I want them back,” he said, before quickly pasting a ‘please’ behind his sentence.

Yes, she always liked it better when I’m civil; like a proper duke. She?

Wriothesley wasn’t sure what was going on with him at the moment. Everything’s in disarray and he can’t help but want to rip the tufts of gray out of his head. Nothing is making sense to him. The memories and facts that should be concretely sealed within the wrinkles of his brain are now fluttering in front of him. Try as he may, they flit just out of his reach. He only hopes his memories come back to him quickly so he can somehow get back to wherever he needs to be to get to whoever she is to do whatever it is he needs to do.

This is truly shit.

—

Meanwhile, you were running up and down the underground prison and makeshift factory to make sure it, ironically, stayed afloat. In all honesty, all you wanted to do was cry and wail at your husband’s disappearance. Yes, disappearance. Though you’ve heard many relegate their condolences to you, you accepted none of it. You were sure he was alive somewhere out there; he just needed to come back home.

Some may say it’s denial but acceptance simply wasn’t the answer right now. Not when the livelihood of thousands of people rely on your emotional stability to ensure proper functions of this prison they call home. Meropide is counting on you to keep yourself together so acceptance truly isn’t needed right now; not when acceptance would mean falling to your knees as you plan funeral arrangements. No, as long as hope is free, the man you call your husband is alive.

Today’s to-do list is a mile and a half long but it all needs doing so that’s exactly what you’re going to spend your time and elbow grease on. You started your day at the break of dawn when the waters were still moving in compliance with the moon’s pull. The dull thud of the waves against the steel prison walls keeps you grounded as you check off your lover’s duties one by one. Noon soon takes hold as the water calms down relatively, now giving way to the clanks of machinery. The resounding clicks and clacks of tools and shoes signify that all was still in order. Night finally came and the mile-long list has been taken care of, well mostly. Last but not least, you’ll have to surface and meet with someone very important.

After throwing on whatever clean and acceptable outfit you find within your closet in the duke’s Meropide residence, you are off to Poisson to meet with Navia. You sure hope she’s found something useful.

At moments like this, you’re grateful for your long-standing friendship with the ever-kind and well-connected President of The Spina di Rosula. Navia has been spearheading the search for your husband for the past few weeks. She turned the whole of Fontaine upside down last week but it yielded no results. Though Spina di Rosula is an organization built to help with Fontanian problems, you’re glad she spared no effort to search beyond the borders of Fontaine for you.

“I just don’t know where he could have gone, Navia. One minute we fought and before you know it the clock strikes midnight and it’s the second day he’s gone,” you let out as your chest starts heaving, a poor effort to hold back the sorrow and fear you felt.

“Navia, I can’t let that be the last interaction we have, I just… I can’t live not knowing if he’s done with me or, worse, if something bad happened to him. I just want to know he’s alright and then, if he so wishes, we can part ways.”

Navia pats your back gently as your breathing grows heavier, “I don’t know the duke all that much but I know enough to say that he’s mad for you. He’d kill for you just as quickly as he’d die for you, my dear. Give him credit that he’ll return, if only to see and make amends with you, hmm?”

Your throat is raw from keeping the dam of your rising emotions from spilling. You turned to your sole companion in all this, “Are you sure, we’ll find him, Navia?”

“All the signs we’ve found so far indicate him being alive. As long as that duke of yours is on Teyvat, we’ll find him, my dear partner, I am sure of it,” she cheered softly, conviction intertwined with a strong dose of compassion.

With that, tears soak your face as you cry softly. Your shoulders shook as rivulets of sorrow trickle past your lashes onto your cheeks. You couldn’t possibly let them out in Meropide so you let them out here. Within the confines of the four walls of Poisson, you let your walls crumble if only for a bit.

You hope he comes back to you soon. You don’t know what you’d do without him.

—

“Do you recall anything at all before your waking,” Baizhu asked Wriothesley for the umpteenth time since his wake from the sedation-induced stupor.

The two figures, Wriothesley and Baizhu, were sitting outside the pharmacy doing a routine inspection. For the past week, Wriothesley has been fairly cooperative in working with Baizhu to further his recuperation; if only to get his gauntlet back and return quicker to Meropide and to the missing woman his heart claims to love so much.

Wriothesley still has no clue as to what his sense of urgency is based on. Of course, the meropide needs him but in the event of his absence, he’s set aside some protocols and second-in-commands that can take up the mantle for a bit before his return. This is something he recalled a few days ago and it’s helped him ease up and stay put for the time being. The exercises Baizhu has given him are certainly giving promising results on jogging his memory back but, much to his dismay, none about the mystery woman. It’s eating his heart up like a worm on an apple, plaguing his heart and making him feel rotten for forgetting her.

Who are you, damn it.

Damn, even cursing at her feels wrong.

Alright, let him fix that-

FIX… FIX!

Just like that, the memories of the weeks prior come crashing onto him like the waves of the midnight tides. All that he’s been through, getting knocked out, the fight, everything filters through his mind like an hourglass finally filling up. Despite all of those moments being mostly shit, he’s overjoyed of remembering what he thought he lost, of remembering you.

By Archons, it’s you!

“Baizhu! That’s it! I need to see her, I need to see my girl! Oh, for the life of me, Baizhu, I need to apologize to MY GIRL,” Wriothesley yelled, joyous.

He does not recall ever being so excited to apologize but he’d be damned if anything wipes the smile off of his face. How can he not? Imagine falling in love all over again with the woman that’s captured your very being. Imagine seeing her in the fresh light of a stranger only wishing to be within her gravity then realizing you were the moon pulling her tides of love all along. Imagine, oh archons, that can fucking wait.

He’s leaving now!

Baizhu smiles at the breakthrough, both of his patient’s memory and of a new memory recovery technique. Calling for Qiqi, Baizhu asks her to get the man’s big boy hands because, yes, we’re finally letting him go home. No, without the sedation.

—

On the ferry ride back, the duke sat painfully still as he stared at the gauntlets that he now wore. The gauntlets that symbolizes his power in Meropide, the ones you've basically created with him now that he remembers your significance in his life. No wonder he can't bear to part with it.

Suddenly, the vast blue separating Liyue and Fontaine seems not enough time now that his thoughts finally catch up to him.

Of course, he was beyond ecstatic to see the love of his life again but thinking back to how he left things off… he shudders at the thought. He’s downright shit for leaving this mess for you to shoulder on your own, not to mention, the fight that went down before he disappeared.

If the roles were reversed, he doesn't know if he’ll ever function properly again. He left you after saying some nasty things and did not return. Not even after two weeks, in fact, it took him three. He wonders if you’re mad at him still or if you’ve fully given up on him. He wonders if you think he left you for good on his own accord. He hopes your heart hasn’t been damaged beyond repair. He knows he’ll do a lot worse to himself if it is.

He just hopes you haven’t completely locked him out of your heart forever because if you haven’t fully closed the doors on him, if he even sees a sliver of forgiveness in your eyes, he’ll lay his everything down in hopes of winning you back.

Wait for me, please, my love.

—

The ocean’s gentle rhythm is the only lullaby strong enough to lure your restless heart and mind to sleep. You can’t imagine being able to rest if you were anywhere else. At least not after the stagnation of your search for your husband. It would’ve been one thing if it were slow progress but there’s nothing else to be found now. Last you heard, there were sightings of a seemingly Fontanian man in Liyue but before anyone could get ahold of him, he disappeared again. You suppose it makes full sense that a man with his extensive knowledge of the underground world and wide connections would slip away easily, after all this is well within his expertise. That’s what you chose to believe, anyway.

The murmurs of the sea continue drumming constant beats as your eyes flutter shut. You hope that this time they bring you to a distant land where all is well; where your husband is still beside you and he still looks at you like you hung the stars just for him.

Meanwhile, unbeknownst to you, heavy clunking and ruckus were heard outside by the registrar of the Meropide. Soon, a crowd began to form as doors were opened and gates were unlocked, in came the man of the hour.

The duke is back.

—

Doors were flung open as the duke marched in, passing by the stunned prisoners of the Meropide. There were rumors abuzz that the duke had fled, of course, his sentence was served to fulfillment so, technically, he did not flee. The spicy part of this scandal was that his wife was left stranded and alone to deal with the mess he’s left. Truth be told, this wasn’t so far from the truth in Wriothesley’s heart.

Opening the massive steel doors to his residence, Wriothesley whispered prayers. With every step he climbed, he murmured a small prayer and promise of devotion to whichever Celestia deity would grant him your patience and forgiveness. Perhaps, however, he should’ve been whispering his promises of devotion to you instead.

Like seeing a mirage in a barren desert of swirling guilt and longing, you lay there asleep but so very beautiful. The rise and fall of your chest fills him with ease as the scent of your perfume grows stronger with each step he takes toward you. His eyes begin to water as his feet grow heavy, it seems his heart grew to immense proportions just at seeing you within touching distance.

He reaches your side and kneels to be at level with your sleeping face. He studies you, slowly memorizing all the things he wishes to never forget. He engraves into his mind, the dips of your cupid’s bow and the flick at the end of your nose. He etches into the crevices of his brain the way your eyelashes flutter just so slightly at whatever it is you sense. Finally, he allows himself to fully sink into your hypnotic gaze as your eyelids lift ever so slightly to reveal his favorite colors. He wishes to have those exact shades enshroud him forever.

The moment you open your eyes, you can’t help but smile, though you remain unmoving.

How lovely! They did bring you good dreams.

“My… after so long of not seeing you, I must’ve forgotten how many scars you have,” you giggled lightly as your eyes counted his scars one by one, hoping to update your foggy memory.

You smile as you continue, “two new ones over your left eyebrow and one down your neck. Even in my dreams, you’re still as rugged as ever. I guess it’s my fault for falling in love with a man so magnetized by fights. I love you that way, though. Don’t change.”

Wriothesley could only sit in pious silence as he followed your gaze, he never wanted to part from it.

“My love, why don’t you take me to where you are? I never want to wake up if this is what sleeping is like. I don’t mind remembering new scars that never happened if only to stay with you like this,” you whispered lowly as your hands went out to reach for his cheeks.

It’s impulsive and you knew the moment his form revealed its corporeal quality, he’d fade away from even your dreams and you’d be left alone again but you just… you just had to. He compels you in a way that no one ever has and ever could. Even if only in this second, you wish to believe he’s just within reach.

Just like you remember him to be.

Wriothesley closed his eyes as he awaited your warmth. He can’t possibly move an inch or say a word when the atmosphere is filled and doused with your affection and love. He just can’t. If anything, he leans in almost antsy with anticipation.

But your touch never came.

Wriothesley opens his eyes to see tears falling down your face and your hands just a hair's breadth away from his cheeks. The droplets stained the carpet beneath him along with his heart.

Breaking piece by piece, his heart shatters as more tears fall from the corner of your eyes; even more when you begin to speak.

“Wriothesley, if I don’t touch you, will you stay? Even as a memory, will you continue to be mine? Or will my mind take that away from me too?”

His heart sank as he watched his love break before him. Not standing for this anymore, he pulled your face closer to his and sealed your lips onto his, claiming this moment as real.

You cried into the kiss letting every single feeling and emotion you’ve pent up run free. Wriothesley pulled you into him and held you as close as he physically could. He wants to absorb every piece of you into his heart to make sure he never has to part from you ever again. He’s selfish and he keeps ahold of you even after your lips part from his.

He kisses every inch of your skin to make sure you know he’s here, to make sure he knows you’re here.

Pure, unadulterated love encapsulates his mind as he holds you close, afraid he might lose you again if he lets go.

As the minutes faded into hours, Wriothesley murmured into your ears the undying poetry of his love for you, unyielding and true. Even if you don’t believe him right now, that’s alright. He’ll keep reminding you of it.

Every second of every minute.

Every minute of every hour.

And every hour of every damned day.

All until you remember it.

a.n. This is a long one and I just kinda word vomit onto my laptop for a few hours and then bam it's right there. Please be gentle, I don't think I was all that awake for this banger!

Hope it's a good read!

#cattlemon's writing #Wriothesley x reader #Wriothesley angst #Wriothesley hurt comfort #Wriothesley x you #Genshin angst #Genshin x reader #Genshin x you #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact x you #genshin impact angst #genshin impact fanfic #no but fr wriothesley's name gets so tiring to type i ended up copy pasting it when i need it :(

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lovelychips · 10 days

Text

also as my brain has developed i’ve started to view andrew a lot differently

like it’s not tfc/trk andrew becomes tkm andrew

it’s tkm andrew was forced to be who he was in tfc/trk and the entire time he’s trying DESPERATELY to claw his way out

and it’s SO SAD that way like idk why this reread has really been hitting me but seeing him forced into a drug haze he is constantly trying to escape but can’t it just makes me so sad like tkm andrew just locked in his head wanting out oh my god

#aftg andrew #andrew minyard #all for the game #andrew x neil #kevin day #the sunshine court #nora sakavic #neil josten #the foxhole court #aftg

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byullielle · 1 year

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The Drag Down // Changbin x Fem!Reader

Bin hits it from the back and as you slowly crawl away to stop the overstimulation he manhandles you back into position.

Tags: Smut (drabble), Manhandling, Slight Overstimulation, Doggy Style, Petnames (baby, princess, bunny), Dirty Talk

Disclaimer: inspired by something from rule34 i accidentally saw. pretty short but also pretty filthy. MINORS DNI. NSFW Content.

You've already cum one. Binnie was in between your legs just a few minutes ago sucking, nipping, and licking at your clit and wet folds to the point of your climax yet you find yourself clawing at the sheets for a reprieve as Changbin slowly grinds his hips against yours, dick buried inside you while you face the pillows. "That feel good bunny?" Changbin asks and it takes you a while to process, a mewl escaping your lips as you fist the sheets. "M–Mhm," you shakily let out, feeling your body tremble under his touch as this is the 2nd cut off orgasm you've had. "Bin," you whine as he grinds down at the spongy spot, making you moan loudly, profanities escaping you as you tug at the sheets, slowly crawling away subconsciously.

"Where are you going princess?" Bin asks, amused at the sight below him before he reaches out and grabs you by the hips, pulling you towards him as you nearly crash face-first into the bed before the loudest moan gets punched out of you, speared right back onto Bin's dick. "Oh fuck!" you moan out before he starts to continue at a steady pace, sounds of your whines and mewls melding with his own groans and hisses and skin slapping making your pussy drool on his cock.

"Shit, baby, you're clenching so tight," he grits his teeth, grip on your hips tightening so much you couldn't pull yourself out. You were stuck in his hold, being used like a sex toy, a fleshlight existing just for Seo Changbin's pleasure. And he could see that, doing you a favor as he points it out while you helplessly try to writhe out of his hold.

"My princess can't escape huh?" he teases with a grunt, cacophony of sticky slapping rendering you cock dumb, "You like it when you can't escape?" he abruptly stops, a loud and open-mouthed gasp escaping you. He stopped, his cockhead nestled directly on your g-spot, simply grinding slowly. He removes one hand from your hips, running it against your waist, then torso as it makes you shudder in excitement. Laying his hand against your sternum, he lifts you up effortlessly despite your lack of strength to even hold your head up.

He presses a kiss on your ear, making you whimper as you feel like the softest touch could make you see stars. "My cute little fleshlight," he whispers against your ear, "You like that?"

It takes you a moment, a few seconds before your brain catches up, "Y-Yes. Oh god, please," you whine, now wanting the delicious and violent friction back into your hole. "Please what bunny?"

"Please," you whine again, grinding your hips against him, "Like bein' your fleshlight. Please Binnie," you desperately claw at his arm, "Use me, touch me, anything," you cry out, just wanting to untangle that knot in your core.

He chuckles against you, chest pressed against your back as you feel it vibrate. "Needy princess," he let's go of your sternum, guiding you back down before pulling out, only to tighten his grip on your hips with both hands before pulling you towards him, knees running against the sheets before he thrusts his cock inside your dripping cunt.

With a groan accompanied by a chuckle, he looks down at you, hands still gripping the sheets arms length away, "My cute little hole,"

#this is me trying #skz changbin #skz smut #skz smut scenarios #stray kids changbin #changbin smut #stray kids smut #smut

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ellethespaceunicorn · 11 months

Text

The Howling in Claw Creek Forest, Chapter Three

Chapter Three: The Wolf In My Living Room

Rating: Mature, 18+, Minors - DNI

Pairing: Werewolf!Walter Marshall x Reader

Word Count: 2.7K

Series Summary: You live in a small town called Claw Creek, surrounded by a deep, dark forest. Since you were a kid, an urban legend of the creature in the woods has been told. If the distant howls at night and mutilated livestock are anything to go by, you fear the stories to be true.

Chapter Summary: Your eventful day starts…RIGHT NOW! *draws mouse ears on the fourth wall*

Warnings: slight dry humping, slight choking, making out, love bites (hickeys)

A/N: A special thank you to @peyton-warren for being my lovely beta and soundboard for this.

Dividers by me

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art by me

Series Masterlist

My Masterlist

You wake to the sounds of the forest coming to life. The leaves in the trees rustling in the morning wind, birdsong as they wake and communicate to each other, and the soft rumbling of snores over your shoulder.

Puffs of air tickle your neck, and the firmness of the mattress under you seems misplaced. The heavy weight around your middle and the press of the warm body behind you is enough to have you remember where you slept last night.

If any of those things weren’t enough to wake you up, surely the unmistakable bulge of something poking at your backside would do it. You are quite flattered because it has been a long time since you’ve had a man in your bed. You also know that men get boners when the damn wind blows, so it doesn’t necessarily mean it’s there because of you.

Until the surrounding arms tighten and his hips push into yours just slightly. His nose sneaks into the space between your neck and shoulder, inhaling deeply.

You can’t help the desperate sigh that escapes you, and the answering groan from the man behind you only inspires you to push your hips back into him. Your name is a whisper on his lips as one of his hands moves to the front of your neck. His thumb on your pulsepoint has you keening, while his other hand slowly glides down your stomach toward where you want him most. But once his massive paw cups you...

“Wait!” The yelp left your throat before you permitted it to do so. Waiting was not at all what you wanted to do, but your brain had other plans. Fight or flight response on high alert.

Walter freezes with one hand on your neck and one hand over your clothed sex. His chest heaving as he seems to try and calm himself down.

“I’m sorry, I just, it’s been a long time,” you blurt, surprised to be able to put forth words that actually make sense, “Feeling a little overwhelmed, is all.”

“I’m so sor–”

“Don’t be sorry, Walter. I want this. I just, I’m not ready.” Mentally, you are kicking yourself for not letting this man take you to Pound Town.

Walter removes his hands from your groin and your neck, the warmth leaving with them. “Just, please tell me I didn’t force myself on you. I couldn’t live with myself if I pushed you in any way.”

You turn to face him, one hand going to cup his jaw. “You didn’t push me, I promise. I...I want you. My body wants you, too. But, I know I’m not ready. For more. Yet.” The thought of your ex is heavy in your mind, the relationship you thought would last forever.

Walter nods, his eyes on you as he turns his head to kiss your palm. “What do you say we get some coffee?”

You nod, afraid to speak more and possibly ruin the moment. Your thumb ghosts over his bottom lip, your eyes still locked on each other as you both lean in. Once your lips meet, it’s as though nothing else matters. His top lip is between your lips, as your bottom lip is between his. Your hand roams from his jawline to tangle in his curls.

Before you know it, Walter is pulling you closer to deepen the kiss. His intensity only drives you to want him more. The taste of his tongue as it massages yours is almost enough to have you take back your words. You could keep kissing him for hours, days, weeks if he let you. But, then again, you always were a sucker for a good kisser. And Walter? He was something to write home about.

He slows down the kiss to let you breathe, and you pull back to get a firm grip on yourself and on reality. As much as you want this man to rearrange your guts, you would like to continue things on a slower progression. Thanks in part to your ex, who did everything with the speed of a cheetah.

“I don’t wanna keep you in the dark about something, so I’m just gonna say it. My ex is a huge reason why I wanna take things slow, Walter. He and I were briefly engaged and it didn’t end well when I broke it off. He’s not like, dangerous or anything. Just a bit of a dick sometimes is all.” You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding and look up at Walter who is just smiling at you as if you didn’t just ruin his boner.

“Thank you for telling me. I hope you know that makes me want to be even more protective over you.” He pokes at your chin and you duck your head.

“I mean, I guess I should expect that from a wolf, huh?” You slide your hand from his curls, down his neck, and around to his chest.

“Yeah, you really should,” he says, turning to stretch, and no doubt adjust himself, “Let’s get that coffee, and I’ll take you back to the park to pick up your car.”

The coffee maker bubbles and brews. You sit on the kitchen counter while Walter stands between your legs. His hands stroke your thighs as he kisses and nips at your neck. You did try to keep a bit of distance between you, but the moment he stepped into your personal space, it was all over.

Once the coffee is done, Walter pours you both a cup. While you sip your coffee, you sit in companionable silence. You get the feeling that he doesn’t mind the quiet, he might even relish it. Even though you still have some questions, you decide to wait to ask them, choosing instead to enjoy the non-verbal flirting between you two.

You gather your things and Walter drives you to the park just outside the forest to pick up your car. Your phone is still dead in your coat pocket, but you have an idea. You get into your car and grab an old receipt from the console. Scribbling your phone number on the back of it, you hand it to him and tell him to call you later.

He pockets the paper and promises to call that evening. With a kiss on the cheek, he tells you to get a move on getting home. You put the key into the ignition and turn it, the car springing to life. Waving to him one last time, you drive out of the parking lot and start to make your way home.

If you are honest with yourself, you miss him already.

Pulling up to your house, you’re not surprised to see a distraught Olivia pacing on your lawn. Her car is in your driveway along with a truck that seems familiar. Once you park a bit behind Liv’s car, she throws her hands up and comes to greet you as you exit your vehicle.

“Oh, my God. Your phone has been going straight to voicemail since yesterday!!” she shouts, seconds before she wraps you up in a bear hug, “Look, I’m sorry, but I called him since he’s a fucking bloodhound. Don’t be mad at me, I was worried.”

“What? Who are you talk–”

Just then, you see shoulders turn around and those eyes meet yours. Eyes that still held that fire for you, even after everything.

“Hey, Bug,” he mumbles, walking over to where you and Liv are still holding onto each other, “Olivia, here, called me when she couldn’t get a hold of ya.”

Bug. The name he used to call you when you were dating. You close your eyes and steady yourself before detaching yourself from Liv and stuffing your hands in your pockets. You weren’t really in the mood to deal with this right now, but you understand why she called...him.

“Well, here I am. I made it home safe and sound. So, thank you but I think I got it from here, James.” you advised, trying to be calm in the face of your ex-fiance.

“Ya know, you can still call me Sy just like everyone else, Bug.” he offers, smiling down at you while you chew on your cheek.

“Yeah, I know. I guess I’m not everyone else, James. I feel like I’ve made that clear more than enough times.” you seethed, if only your eyes could shoot lasers.

“Got it. You’re still pissed. Well, do me a favor, Bug. Keep yourself safe. Check in with your friend when you’re, uh,” he pokes at a bruise forming on your neck, “Going out to meet somebody.” He snorts, walking back to his truck.

Liv turns to you and smacks you on the arm, whispering harshly as she does, “All this was for some dick? Like, kudos! But damn, you coulda told me!!”

As he backs out of the driveway, he stops just short. “Maybe stay in tonight. Me and a buncha boys from town are gonna be heading out looking for this menace been taking down livestock and all. Probably just a wolf or something. But whatever it is, it ain’t safe out here.”

You hated that he still cared for your well-being and honestly, you didn’t need his judgment either. But you used to love this man. Shit, you were planning on marrying him and raising however many kids he wanted. A little piece of you feels shitty for wanting to bite his head off. You can tell he still cares at least. It’s just hard to skip over the bad times when you think about your ex.

“Look, thank you, James. I’ll worry about keeping myself safe. You do the same?” you reply, pushing away Liv’s hands from your neck.

“Will do, Bug. Alright now. See ya ‘round.” He backs out of the driveway fully, throws a hand up in a wave, and drives off.

You turn to Liv as she puts a hand on your shoulder. “You know you owe me the deets, right? Like, everything?”

“Yeah, I know. But, truth be told, it is barely anything yet. Can it wait until it’s something more substantial, at least?” you implore, knowing damn well you like Walter more than you’d be honest about at this moment.

“Okay, so you didn’t fuck him yet. Did you least taste it?” This woman has no chill.

“Liv! Oh, my God.” you blurt, hand going to your face.

“Alright, so you didn’t taste it. Must have been an intense makeout session though, huh? That’s why you look so tired, hun?” she rambles on as you start to walk past her to your front door.

“Bye, Liv! Good luck getting your car out.” you shout back, the key already unlocking the door.

You watch from the living room window as she makes various turns to get her car out from in front of yours. You love the girl, but she deserves that after the third degree. And after calling your ex-fiance when she couldn’t reach you. Like, what was she thinking? Probably thinking the worst, you’re sure.

But, really? She called...Sy? If that didn’t open a can of worms later on, you will be surprised.

But for now, you’ll just put it behind you in favor of a cup of cocoa and possibly a very long shower. That would be enough after your very eventful night in the woods. And you were looking forward to finally plugging your phone in and getting a call from a certain bearded wolf.

Many hours later, you were doing some cleaning around the house, which consisted of walking around with a glass of wine in one hand and a duster in the other. Sure, you tidied up the living area, but you half-assed the rest of the first floor and you didn’t care. You were putting off taking a shower because you could still smell Walter on you.

Not like you were swooning over his smell or anything. Okay, maybe you liked the way his pheromones seem to act differently. It wasn’t just a woodsy, man smell. It was musky, strong, like fresh sweat all the time.

After three-quarters of the bottle is gone, you cork the wine and put it into the fridge to save for later. Turning off the lights and speaker system, you resigned yourself to finally scrubbing this day away.

To keep yourself sane, you plugged in your phone on the bedroom charger before going to the bathroom for that long shower you wanted. Settling in bed afterward, you moisturize your skin and dress in a comfy nightgown. You unhook your phone from the charger and scroll through the notifications.

A couple of texts from Olivia, checking in on you. A few junk emails that you delete. One missed call from Sy, with a voicemail.

Well, fuck.

You didn’t want to open that voicemail just yet, not that you get the chance to. You hear a crashing coming from downstairs. Not today, bitches. I’ve had enough surprises. You move to your closet to grab your bat. Five seasons of company softball have led you to this point. Kicking a home intruder’s ass. Sliding your phone screen open, you quickly turn on the smart lights for the living room. As you come down the stairs, holding the bat aloft, you hear a groaning noise.

Turning to the sound, you find Walter clutching his abdomen and standing against the entryway to the kitchen. He’s still in the clothing from last night, his gray henley soaking through with blood. You drop the bat to look at the wound but there is no hole in the shirt. You direct him to lie across the dining room table after taking his shirt off while you go find your first aid kit.

Coming back from the kitchen, you get out a pair of gloves and start to clean what looks like a bullet wound.

“So, obviously I have questions. Like, a ton. But we’ll start with ‘How did you know this was my house?’.” you ask, stitching up the wound.

“I just followed your scent,” he admits, hissing as you tightened a stitch, “And the car in the driveway kinda helped too.”

“Of course. Next question. What the fuck happened?” you press, finishing up the last stitch before cleaning it off and applying gauze.

“I was out in wolf form and a few hunters were out, too. I managed to draw them away from the cabin. I tried to make it back but one of ’em got me. Figured if I shift back to human form, I could drive out here to you. And, I probably shouldn’t have driven with a gaping wound like that, but I wasn’t able to think that clearly. I also might have parked on your lawn and I apologize for that. May I pass out on your couch?” he chatters, already rising from the table and narrowly missing the light hanging over it.

“Whoa there, Wolfie. Let me help you to the couch, at least,” you insist, letting him hang an arm over your shoulder.

Having him against your body again was a welcome consolation, if only for a moment. You deposit him on the sectional and he grips onto a throw pillow as soon as he lays down on his stomach. You pull a blanket off the back of the couch and cover him with it. His hand touches yours as you pull away.

“Just need a little rest, Pup. Be good as new.” he trails off, your hand slipping out of his.

Watching his sleeping face, he looks so peaceful. A curl is over one eye and you reach out to tame it, but it springs back right into place. You laugh to yourself as you walk to the dining table to clean away the trash.

Once done, you look back over to where Walter is snoring softly. Turning out the lights, one by one, you leave on the light above the sectional. You walk upstairs to your bedroom. Climbing into bed, you think this is the perfect night to go to bed early for once.

But your brain goes back to this morning. Walter’s arms around you. His scent is fresh on you. If you could keep extra quiet, you’re sure you can crank one out without waking the beast downstairs.

Right?

To be continued...

A/N: So, the chapter summary was a nod to Disney Channel. I am not a Disney Adult, I just love nostalgia.

**Tag List**

@deandoesthingstome @cakesandtom @brattymum96 @ambinxe @avengersfan25 @kebabgirl67 @thabiddie23 @sweetandgentlecreature @foxyjwls007 @art2emily @titty-teetee @astheskycries @enchantedbytomandhenry @rebelangel1102 @milknhonies @peyton-warren @geralts-yenn @raccoon-eyed-rebel @cardierreh15 @viking-raider @imaslutforcuddles @ilovetaquitosmmmm @warriormirkwood @shellyshellshell @calwitch @meanlilbean @samahenoyrhye @openup-yourmind @juliaorpll78 @princessaxoo @toooldforobsessions @carrie80reads @liveoncoffeeandflowersss @evansabove1981

Let me know if you wanna be added (or removed) 😁

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eldritch-spouse · 1 year

Note

So I'm a sick fuck. One of my favorite things is when an obsession is getting ravaged and they can sense that their "partner" is going to cum. She panics and desperately screams and begs them to cum outside, that she doesn't want to get pregnant, that she doesn't want a baby. Subsequently she is in a state of shock when they do as she feels just how thorough a claim that was.

Which of your ocs would find sick pleasure in doing this to their obsession and seeing her in this state of terror?

[I could probably put more here... If this was a single character scenario, I would have gone more in depth.]

TW: Noncon; Non-consensual impregnation.

Morell simply doesn't give you a choice. Sooner or later you're going to try for that kid, and you ought to get it through your skull that it is happening. He can't deny the thrill of the fear in your eyes, that doe look, just like when you first saw him, recognizing the predator he is. Morell can already feel the headache of having to undo this all, but he won't deny he wouldn't do this a hundred times. Gladly.

There's nothing Kalymir loves more than conquest. He's conquered Wrath, he's conquered you, now he's taking control of your womb. And you're trying to fight him for it, you poor little thing. It makes him so wild Kalymir nearly shatters your pelvis with his thrusts, laughing and outright moaning at your weak nails clawing down his front and face. It's almost like you want to make him cum faster, hopefully hard enough that it hits your brain.

Zizz is lazy. His pullout game is fucking weak. And, on top of that, he doesn't like to be denied creature comforts such as coming in you. It could be your mouth, your ass, who cares- He knows he's going to finish in that hole and you can't possibly do anything to dislodge him. The King tries to shush you the whole time and covers your mouth so you make less noise, shivering in delight when you freeze at the sensation of his ropes painting you.

Pinter thinks he knows better than you. They're always the same- "I'm not ready to move in with you", "This is moving too fast", "I can't have a kid yet", yes you can. And you will, stop stressing over nothing. Just enjoy yourself and don't pretend you don't like the feeling of his cum deep inside you. You're whining now but you'll get over it, you even squeezed so tight around him!

Miara thinks it's silly of you to get worked up over pregnancy. If ever there was a time for you to possibly conceive, it would be now- Protected by a goddess of fertility and conception, loved infinitely! You are scared by your mind's twisted perception of reality, by what centuries away from siadar did to your species. Although she cradles you lovingly when the shock of her seed entering you sets in, she throbs with pride that you are now destined to likely conceive a brand new generation of monsters.

Sybastian's role in the escape floor has taught him one thing. He really likes the hunt. He's always loved trickery, but that sweet span of time where he has to wrestle to get his way is phenomenal- And even if you two play at that often, you've already had to squirm and struggle to get his cock out before he could come inside more than once. One day Syb's just going to get too into it to let you stop him, and he's going to pant like a shameless mongrel while you quiver and freeze under him. He thinks he should have done this sooner, honestly.

Sever doesn't get why you'd want him to pull out, honestly. To him, that kind of reads as you rejecting him as a mate, and no yandere reacts well to that. Some other, more primal side of him affirms that it is indeed normal for you to thrash around some, so he doesn't really perceive anything to be wrong until you start giving him shit afterwards. He's very quick to secure you with several tendrils and to take his time milking his own orgasm inside you, enjoying what he assumes is your eventual submission.

*Hellion is a dick. Hellion likes to come inside you. You're physically too weak to stop him anyway. It all adds up in a horrid little concoction that is bound to go wrong for you. He does visibly thrill in your panic the more you notice he's getting closer to orgasm, sometimes playfully slipping almost all the way out only to slam even deeper on the next few pistons. That look of horror on your face is exquisite.

*Nebul decides where he comes, not you. This is something you ought to get through that thick skull already, and he'll help you understand it, by consistently coming inside your cunt for as many times as he wants. Screaming will earn you punishments, and physically attempting to fight him will have you regretting even thinking of such in the first place. Nebul takes advantage of those key moments where you're in shock to slip whatever messages of acceptance he wants in your mind, forcing you to focus on him with gentle contact.

*Vesper doesn't even give you a real chance to protest. It's so silly, the way you think. Don't lie to yourself, once you feel him come in you, you won't want anything else. It's laughable to even think you'd protest -You won't- But fret not, before it starts, Vesper promises he'll come everywhere, not just in you. You'll soon start asking him to fill you more, to the brim, and he's all too happy to oblige really.

Dishonorable mentions: Santi; Ludwig; Vinnel.

[* These characters have different methods of reproduction and/or certain traits that don't permit conception in specific settings, so their assault may not result in pregnancy.]

#Morell oc #Kalymir oc #Mother Miara #Vesper oc #Sybastian oc #Nebul oc #Hellion oc #Pinter oc #Sever oc #Zizz oc

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lizzy019 · 3 months

Text

𝒩𝑜 𝑀𝑜𝒹𝑒𝓈𝓉𝓎.

Darrel Curtis x Bimbo!Fem!Reader [Reader is a Soc]

cw -> dirty talk, breast play, p in a, hitting

Word Count -> 1.1K

No because why is this request giving my ovulating brain such DIRTY IDEAS? Hope you enjoy it!

$136.32

That was how much money you wanted to squeeze out of him.

The numbers that were counted made Darry’s mind almost combust into flames when he heard that high amount, and simply for two dresses and a few pairs of heels?

But then he looked over at your smile, the way your lips curled so happily when you offered he didn’t have to pay if he couldn't. So with a tap of your card, the money was sent through and your bag of new items was handed to you.

A big smile widened on your face as you linked arms with him and hurried out. You were so happy!

“Darry, Darry, do you think I could show my dresses to you when we get back to your place? Pleeease?” You whined out, bottom lip jutting forward in a soft plea.

Darry didn’t know why you were begging, he’d say yes anytime and wouldn't turn any offer down when it came to you. So he swiftly nodded his head, kissing your cheek as you two made your way back to his car.

A frilly pink dress with white bow straps to hold it up on your shoulders was presented to Darry.

Breasts barely contained in the fabric, and hips expanding the dress, you looked as if you were straight from a porn movie. It had him drooling from the sight.

However, your obliviousness and ditzy attitude paid no mind to his eyes, simply spinning around and enjoying the dress.

“What’d ya think? Do you like it? I like it! Or maybe it’s too tight? Do you think so? Oh, of course you do, what was I thinking? I’m so dumb!” You moved on too fast, lamenting the fact that you thought Darry didn’t like it simply because you rushed to a random point.

This jolted him out of his trance, and his hands came to your waist in assurance.

“No no, the dress is nice on ya. Makes your figure look fuller, sweetie. It looks good.” He consoled you, gently brushing your hair from your face and pulling you into a light hug.

Oh God, he could feel your breasts pressing against him. All big and warm, soft and squishy against his torso.

He tried to pay no mind to it, trying to be a respectful gentleman and keep his hands to himself. But you were just so adamant on staying in his hug that eventually he couldn’t take it.

Darry’s hands very slowly moved to your dress’ zipper, trying not to alarm you before he zipped it off and wriggled it off of you faster than you could react. A yelp escaped you from being bare to him.

“You wanna dress up and pose like a slut, huh? Wanna make me look bad in front of everyone, no modesty or anythin’. You dirty whore.” His hand shoved your back into the bed, ass up in the air.

The words brought tears to your doe-like eyes, a look of apology crossing over your expression. How foolish of you to assume that such a weepy expression would get Darry to retract his words and apologize.

No.. no, you were very wrong.

A harsh, almost brutal smack was collided to the fat of your ass as he whipped his cock out from his jeans, desperately fondling with the belt before he kept it secure in his hand to hit you any time you misbehaved or complained.

His length pressed against your puckered hole, slowly pushing the tip in dry until the amount of precum he was oozing was able to act like lube.

Loud cries escaped you, eyes rolled back as you took every merciless thrust of his openly and with great pleasure.

“Darry, Darry! Fuck me, yes!” You cried out, manicured nails clawing at the sheets. Another crack of his belt to your ass was executed, and the feeling had your eyes watering.

“You fuckin’ keep your mouth shut. You better pray.. for your damn ass and for your damn heart that I don’t fuck you into this bloody mattress, ya hear?” He gasped out, relishing in his own pleasure but still maintaining his dominant position.

“And what’re you supposed to call me? It sure ain’t Darry, what is it, sweetheart?” He asked you in an almost malevolent and malicious tone.

“D-daddy! Daddy, ‘m sorry! I’ll be good, please! Want you to make me feel good..!” You mewled, tears soaking the sheets where your face rested.

This time, the belt was thrown to the side, renamed as a problem to deal with later as he grabbed your hips and full on thrusted like a dog in heat.

“You retarded son of a bitch, makin’ a fool of yourself in public. You don’t think others see your damn tits on display? Hell, you could be bare ass naked and everyone would react the same as they do when you’re dressed all skimpy and slutty.” Darry growled out, finding himself chasing his own orgasm.

Your ass hurt from both the slaps and the fact that he was drilling into you, like a damn power drill into concrete.

“Darry, daddy, want you to cum in my ass! I want you to fire babies into my stomach, please!” You cried out, watching him begin to shiver and shake like a leaf in the wind.

Darry simply nodded, giving a few more hard thrusts before releasing all in your wee asshole before collapsing on top of you. And before you knew it, you both had fallen asleep just like that.

Waking up to the sound of rustling fabric, your head turns arduously to see Darry prepping an outfit for you that involved one of your favourite pairs of chunky heels and a dress he chose out for you, as well as jewelry he thought complimented all the other colours before noticing you’ve risen from sleep.

His expression turned fretful, and you noticed the tinge of ignominiousness in his expression.

“Darry? What time is it? What’re you doing?” You asked so softly, so benevolently.

You noticed how he had his work clothes on, and instantly it snapped in your head. All your questions answered. You hobbled up to see the outfit he prepared, a slight wobble from the unholy activities of yesterday.

A pretty lilac dress with off-white heels, silver pendant and earrings to match.

“I wonder why you went for roofing when you could’ve done anything in design.” You chuckled, kissing his cheek and gently rubbing his tricep as he buttoned up his shirt.

“Sweetie, I really gotta run, I’m gonna be late.” He murmured, looking down at you and pressing a kiss back to your forehead before he rushed out.

For the rest of the day, the pain in your rear was a constant reminder that Darry had ruined you wholeheartedly, out of worry and frustration.

This always made you wince, but smile.

#the outsiders smut #smut #x reader #darry curtis x reader #darrel curtis x reader #the outsiders

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just-a-creep-babe · 9 months

Note

O saw your promo and could i get laughing jack woth fem reader with 25.

“Don’t look at me like that. You asked for this.”

62. “One last time. Please. I—I need one last touch.”

48. “God, you’re like a bitch in heat. Do you even realise how desperate you look, riding my thigh like that?”

With the theme of break up sex with laughing jack doing the breaking up and the reader beggong for one last touch

Wrote this a Hot Minute™ ago so now I'm looking back at the writing like... yikes, I could do better atp 💀💀

Anyways, I hope you can still find some kind of enjoyment out of this ^^; LMK what ya think!!

~Requests are closed~

Masterlist: x

25. “Don’t look at me like that. You asked for this.”

48. “God, you’re like a bitch in heat. Do you even realize how desperate you look, riding my thigh like that?”

62. “One last time. Please. I—I need one last touch.”

“Don’t look at me like that. You asked for this”

Your heart clenches

Inhumanly white eyes pierce through you

Where once, they would’ve been filled with nothing but love and admiration, his gaze now burns with anger and disdain

You’re on the verge of tears

You can’t lose him

Not like this

Dear God, not like this!

His lips curl over his sharp teeth in a sneer, and with a huff, he turns away from you

“Jack!”

You reach out and grab his arm in a rush of panic

He stops dead in his tracks, and the way his body tenses has your blood going cold

You’re suddenly reminded of what he is; a monster

He had loved you at one point, cared for you, protected you

But somehow, that’d changed, and now, here you are, faced with the monstrous part he previously would’ve never bared towards you

You swallow thickly

You can’t help but notice how sharp his claws are as he curls his hands into a fist

Sharp like knives

“P-please”

Your voice is uneven when it escapes you, so you try again

“One last time. Please. I—I need one last touch”

It’s a long shot, you know it is

But you’ll take whatever you can get

Any second longer—you’ll beg for scraps of his attention if you need to

There’s a growl from deep within his chest, something low and rumbly and dangerous

Some part of your brain tries to tell you to let him go

But you don’t want to listen

You need him

You stay rooted in place, even when he turns to face you, even when his intimidating form towers over you menacingly

“Jack,” you breathe his name

And you know you’re so, so incredibly pathetic right now, begging him to touch you as he’s about to leave you

But you don’t care

It doesn’t matter—none of it does

You just need him one last time

He snorts, and your heart shatters, thinking he won’t even give you this one last bit of closure

His clawed hand grips at your cheek, threatening to piece flesh

You wince, closing your eyes

But then his lips are on yours, and your mind is going blank at the feeling

He kisses you roughly—fervently

You sigh against him, your hands following a familiar path to his jagged locks to tug him in even closer

He growls again, but it doesn’t scare you like it did before

You want him—monstrous side and all

His teeth scrape at your lips, filling your mouth with the taste of copper

You’ve no doubt it was on purpose

But you don’t care

You tug at him, tug at his hair, his clothes, anything you can get your hands on

You know you don’t have much time left with him, but right now, it doesn’t matter

He’s yours

He’s all yours right now

You push yourself against him, trying to minimize the distance between the two of you to nothing

He backs up a few paces as you do, and you’re almost disappointed, before he pulls you into him for you to follow

Claws at your hips, you’re yanked against him until you lose your balance and topple into him

You land on his lap, and you realize he must’ve done it on purpose because the couch is beneath him and you’re straddling his thighs just perfectly

You groan into the kiss

Heat pools in your stomach, making your sex clench eagerly already

He’s barely done anything and you’re already so needy for him

His grip is bruising, his kiss hard enough to make your head spin

When his tongue parts your lips to taste you, you squeeze your legs together and whimper

It seems he’s still not immune to you, because when he hears the sound you make, you feel his bulge twitch against your hips

You’re practically frenzied

Your body moves on its own to grind down on his leg

Anything to feel him—to relieve the ache that’s driving you insane

He breaks the kiss, a strand of saliva splitting between the two of you as he does

And it’s filthy, but you can’t help but love it

“God, you’re like a bitch in heat. Do you even realize how desperate you look, riding my thigh like that?”

There’s a bite to his words as he says it

You don’t care

You’ll be as desperate as it takes if it means he’ll fuck you again

You drag his hands up from your hips to press them both to your chest

“P-please~ Please, Master, fuck me~”

Bringing up the old pet name gets you just the reaction you wanted

He snaps, flips you on your back, and in an instant, you find yourself naked beneath him

The growl that escapes him is dangerously threatening, but all that does is coax you to spread your legs so that he can just fuck you already

One hand wraps around your throat, encompassing it completely until his fingers are touching the back of your neck

And with his other hand, he quickly undoes his pants to free his hard-on

You’re barely given a second to appreciate the sight of him before he’s plunging it all the way into your tight little cunt

He’s so big

Even now, wet as you are for him, it still takes a few thrusts to finally split you open for the entirety of his shaft

Your jaw goes slack, eyes rolling back and your chest arching up into him

You knew he wasn’t planning on going easy on you

But nothing could’ve prepared you for the way he almost immediately pulls out, just to slam all the way back into you

You aren’t given any time to adjust

Hell, you’re hardly given any time to catch your breath between rough slams of hips into yours

It’s like he’s trying to fuck you in half

Your hands try to grip at him, at the couch beneath you—anything—but there’s nothing you can do to help keep you grounded

“I’m gonna break you,” he growls, and you hardly have the mental capacity to listen, but you force yourself to hang off of his every word as he uses you

“Gonna break you so that no one else will ever be able to make you feel as good”

You make some pathetic whimper because fuck, you’re going to cum already

“I’ll ruin that pretty little cunt”

His hand around your neck tightens and you feel yourself getting lightheaded

Lips parted, eyes clouded over, you gasp for air, and he uses the opportunity to lean over and spit into your mouth

You clench around him and cum—hard

He doesn’t relent as you do

If anything, it only encourages him to use you harder

“You won’t fucking forget who you belong to, no matter how many people you try to date after me”

His words blur together as your body tenses with the rush of endorphins

It’s like you can’t stop shaking, can’t stop yourself from trying to milk him through your orgasm

The way he snarls and growls above you, hips shamelessly pistoning into your inviting heat—it’s too much

“(Y/n)—“

You nearly cum again when he growls your name

His hand leaves your neck, and you’re about to gasp for air when he suddenly forces his lips on yours again

When you kiss him back, his pace falters for the first time, and you know he’s getting close

You’re almost grateful because you don’t know how much more you can take

“Beg,” he snarls when he breaks the kiss, “beg for me to cum inside you. Beg for me to defile you”

You open your mouth, but all that escapes is a sickly slew of moans and whimpers

It seems to anger him, and with a growl, he crams more of his length as deep into you as he can

He’s hitting your cervix

“P-please! Please!”

Tears blur your vision as you cry out for him

Too much—it’s too much!

“Jack—please cum inside me!”

With one last deep snarl, he snaps his hips all the way forward, and then you feel him twitch as he empties himself inside you

It’s euphoric

You don’t want it to end, don’t want him to stop

Even if you physically can’t handle it, you want more

You wriggle beneath him, as if that could make him stay longer

But it’s over all too quickly as he pulls out

You snap your legs shut before his cum can leak out

“Jack, please… Don’t go”

Your quiet plea falls on deaf ears

“You lost your chance, (y/n)” he snarls

There’s a mix of lust and disdain in his eyes as he looks down at you

"We’re done”

#creepypasta #laughing Jack #laughing Jack x reader #laughing Jack x reader smut #creepypasta x reader smut #creepypasta x reader

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moralesmilesanhour · 11 months

Note

okay okay, i have had this one thought in my head about a platonic gender-neutral (or male/masc-leaning) reader fic. this is for either miles (more so 42 than 1610 bc i can imagine his face of exasperation). imagine just being his dumbass friend, like yeah your smart enough to be in visions, but goddamn!! you leave your braincells in your school locker once the final bell rings. your self preservation instincts are questionable at best and the only reason you're not dead yet bc you're proving that quote "you can't kill stupid" as a true fact. at least you bring homemade food over everytime you visit his home and his mom likes you, so you're not completely hopeless in life. (i've had this rotating in my brain for days and still haven't written it myself) -☁

a/n: I went the masc route with this one with a sprinkle of gender envy if u squint

You thought doing homework on a rooftop would be a nice change of scenery.

Dangling off of the rooftop? Not so much.

A tiny group of pigeons had been hanging out near the edge, and you had the idea to try and feed them with the bag of sunflower seeds you'd brought with you. Carefully, you step forward toward the flock, until some unknown force of nature causes you to trip over your own feet and sends you careening over the edge.

Somehow, you manage to grab hold of the railing of the fire escape just below, but your palms are sweaty. You heave as you use all of your upper body strength to hold yourself up while desperately trying not to look down.

It's not enough.

Just as you lose your grip, a strong arm catches you. It's covered in purple leather, ending in a familiar clawed hand.

"Again?" Asks an amused modulated voice as wind rushes past your ears.

"You make it sound like a daily occurrence."

You feel a jolt as the masked figure swings and lands in front of an alleyway before putting you down. As you adjust your crooked glasses, the mask whirs and splits in two before receding, revealing the smirking, deep brown face of your friend, Miles.

"What happened this time?"

His voice is low and nearly too soft to hear, a stark contrast to the tinny high pitch of your own. No amount of lowering your larynx or whispering could ever get it like that. Part of you wishes you could steal it sometimes, or borrow his voice modulator, at least.

If only.

"Tripped," you answer, rubbing your upper arm as a side effect of the claws' tight grip. "Dunno how you always manage to catch me."

"Easy," Miles explains as he unzips his black duffel bag. "I see that ratty ass gray hoodie you always got on and swing right over."

With a whir and a clank, he removes the claw on his right hand, then his left, tossing them into the bag.

"How does carryin' those around like that not damage them?" you blurt out suddenly. Miles snorts.

"You gonna fix 'em for me, genius?"

"No."

"Thought so."

Finally, he removed the grappling hook strapped to his back and tied his jacket around his waist.

You say his catchphrase before he does: "Let's bounce!"

This earns you a burst of laughter from Miles as you make your way out of the alley.

"What, I say it wrong?"

"No, it's just..." he catches his breath and claps you on the shoulder as he passes by. "You make it sound so friendly."

"Whatever, man."

"Yo, pay attention, dude!"

You feel Miles' hand yank you backwards by your hoodie as a car horn blares past you. Once you look up from your phone, your eyes widen.

"Oh, shit."

The car had barely missed you.

The streetlight across from you finally turned white, and the two of you crossed. Miles keeps glancing back at you until the short journey to the opposite sidewalk is completed.

He stops, crossing his arms. "How many times are you gonna almost-die today? Lemme know so I can adjust my schedule."

"Until someone finally finishes the job," you joke before remembering something. "Ah fuck, I hope the brownies survived."

You swing your book bag off of your shoulder and kneel to open it, revealing a small Tupperware container filled with home-made brownies stacked on top of your textbooks. Thankfully, there is only a bit of chocolate smudged on the sides; the pastries themselves remain (mostly) intact.

Miles raised an eyebrow. "You know taking the textbooks home is optional, right?"

Zipping your bag closed, you reply with a shrug,"I like re-writing my notes. I need to access the source material."

"I need to access the source material," Miles mimics you in a nasally voice before strolling past you. "If I were a worse person, I'd shove yo' ass in a locker."

You laugh, breaking into a jog to catch up to him with your 'source material' weighing you down.

"Just for that, I'm telling your mom the brownies are just for her-shit!"

A piece of cracked and lifted cement trips you up and scuffs your sneakers. Your hands shoot out to break your fall, planting themselves onto the ground. Your glasses aren't so lucky.

"Aw, man, I just got these!" You frowned as you dusted off your khaki shorts with one hand, holding your glasses in the other.

One of the frames now has a crack right down the middle.

"That's tough, buddy," Miles remarks.

He had spun around as soon as he heard you yell in case of another near-death experience, but was now trying desperately to hold back laughter that escaped through his nose as he walked backwards towards his destination.

"It's not funny!"

"It's a little funny. You're like a Looney Tunes character."

You laugh, "If an anvil falls on my head, it's your fault."

#i hope this was in the general ballpark of what u asked for lmao #miles morales x reader #miles morales x black!reader #miles morales x male reader #earth 42 miles x reader #earth 42 miles morales x reader #miles g morales x reader #earth 42 miles morales x black!reader #moralesanhour #requests

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jesterofcringe · 1 month

Text

Kiss with a Fist Villain!Venture x Reader

req i received on my main blog, moved it over here :3 tw mentions of blood and an injury but not too much detail no nsfw btw. i straight up forgot ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

★ Romance with a villainous Venture is... somewhat complicated. Your relationship as a whole had a bit of a rocky start considering every other day you were trying to kill each other.

★ You were assigned what should have been a simple mission: Arrest Sloan Cameron. Sounded easy enough- they were an ex-hero, a big nerd with a bigger heart,,, how harmful could they be?

★ You quickly came to learn that talon picked them for a reason, and pretty soon trying to keep up with them was the worst part of your day.

★ At least for you it was- Sloan on the other hand LOVED messing with you. Although it was initially because they thought it was funny to watch how mad you would get, they slowly but surely begin to develop a crush. Unfortunately for the both of you, being the feral idiot they are they decide it's much funnier to toy with you instead of confronting their own feelings.

★ You don't notice it immediately, but you do notice the way they always target you when you're on a mission. You find it incredibly strange- because of their abilities they're able to go after multiple of your teammates at once, but they never do. It's always you that's backed into a corner, shoved up against a wall, or pinned against the floor with their boot on your chest, heel digging into your ribcage to keep you from moving.

"Agh... Sh-Shit..." You rasp, struggling and grabbing at their foot, "I'm supposed to be capturing you, not the other way around..."

Their foot presses down harder, making you wheeze as you claw at their heel. They laugh at the way you whine in protest, and you want nothing more than to knock that smug look right off their face.

★ Needless to say, you weren't exactly fond of Sloan. You spent so much time chasing them your sleep schedule started to deteriorate. Even when you thought you could relax you couldn't escape them as your brain decided to replay the moments you had with them and all the battles you lost in a desperate attempt to analyze what went wrong and how to fix it. Hyperfixating on your nemesis was one thing, but it got to the point that you started to have nightmares. Though the nightmares weren't a daily thing, they were frequent enough to make you consider ditching sleep as a whole.

★ You wanted to punch their lights out sooo bad.

★ As your rivalry progressed, you slowly [emphasis on SLOWLY] got used to their antics. You weren't beginning to like them by any means, but it became less about kicking their teeth in and more about just doing your job. That didn't make them any less annoying, unfortunately, a fact that became apparent when a particular fight had you slammed against a bar counter all the while Sloan continued to make dumb jokes.

"Can I offer to buy you a drink while we're here?"

"If you wanted to treat me why didn't you just ask me on a date like a normal person?"

★ When you quipped back, you meant it completely as a joke. In your logic, you hoped that maybe flustering them even slightly would give you enough time to get them off your back and gain some high ground. Unbeknownst to you, they seriously took your suggestion to consideration.

★ You wouldn't learn this until you found yourself chasing them across rooftops a few days later.

★ Being high up was seriously out of character for Sloan considering they preferred to be close to [and usually underneath] the ground. Despite this, they had a decent lead on you and were surprisingly light on their feet. You didn't let this deter you, and instead stayed right on their track, giving a determined chase.

"Where are you leading me Cameron?"

"Right here!" They came to a sudden stop, and the abruptness of it all damn near made you fell- they had to catch you and before you could struggle out of their hold they spun you around and pointed over your shoulder, gesturing towards the sky.

Oh gods. The sky.

From where you stood, you had a perfect view of the stars as they twinkled and winked. It was like someone had flicked white paint against a deep purple canvas. You were absolutely gobsmacked.

"Pretty, isn't it?"

Their grip loosened, allowing for you to turn around to face them. For once, you saw them in a completely different way; their wolfish smile replaced with a goofy lopsided grin, and instead of the malicious gleam you usually saw in their eyes, you were met with the sparkle of the stars shining back at you.

"Did you make me chase you here on purpose? So you could show me this?"

"Uh-huh! What good is star gazing if there's no one to star gaze with?"

★ You didn't have a nightmare about Sloan that night. You dreamt about the stars, and the person they used to be when they were a hero. You wished you got to meet that person, and almost wondered if there was a way to bring them back.

★ The next morning you woke up startled. You hated thinking about Sloan like that- there was no good in it considering the fact that you still had a job to do whether they were a villain or not.

★ That didn't stop you from accidentally telling them about it, blurting it out before you could stop yourself.

"You had a dream about me?" They said with a cutting slyness in their voice. You could feel your face heat up, and you really hoped you weren't blushing as much as you thought you were, "Awh, I knew you cared about me!"

"I do not." You hissed, trying to save face, "You broke my nose, I kicked your teeth. That's all that happened."

Their smile falters for a second. Though the action was quick, you still caught it even though it seemed they were doing their best to make sure you didn't.

You wonder what ran though their mind at the thought of you thinking about them at night. You decide, for your own sanity, not to let it bother you.

★ Things change, but only slightly. You still fight but you no longer actively try to kill each other. You don't really like them yet, but you're willing to say they're alright. They're weary not to hit you too hard even though you hated when they went easy on you. As a joke, you left a small mark on their drill. Not like a dent or anything, but you stuck a spiderman sticker to the side to see if they'd notice. Eventually they did, but they pretend they didn't as an excuse to keep it there.

★ One night, they turn up at your door. You're ready to get upset when you notice their condition- they look pale, and they're hunched over with one arm over their abdomen. They look awful, and yet they're still weakly smiling at you as if they aren't obviously hurt.

You nearly jump out of your skin, just barely keeping your composure as you stare at them, "What the hell happened to you?"

"Any chance I can borrow your medkit?" They ignore your question as they sway from side to side, "Do you..." they interrupt themselves with a hiccup, blood spilling form their lips, "...H-have one?"

They lean just a bit too far forward, losing their balance. You catch them and usher them inside.

Soon you find yourself with your nemesis half conscious on your couch as you treat their wounds. They murmur small apologies and thank yous as you work, trying not to flinch as you bandage them up. You did your best to remain stoic, though you couldn't hide the way your hands shook as you cleaned them up. You hoped they didn't notice.

"Talon doesn't have a medic?"

"...Didn't think I'd make it in time."

With the state they were in, you were sure they would've suffered significant blood loss if they tried to pull through and carry themselves back to Talon's headquarters. You're surprisingly relieved they decided to knock on your door.

"What did you get yourself into Sloan?"

Again, they ignore your question.

"I'm really sorry," They manage, "I just didn't know where else to go."

"Don't worry about it. I-"

You hesitate. The words were at the tip of your tongue.

Care about you. I care about you, Sloan.

You just couldn't quite say it, the words dying in your throat. Instead you sigh.

"-Have some spare clothes you can borrow. You should really get out of that bloodstained turtleneck."

They nod, smiling wide enough for you to see the gap in their teeth.

"You're the best."

★ From then on, Sloan hardly felt like a nemesis anymore. You don't even feel like it would be right calling them an enemy or opponent. You would never admit that out loud though.

★ Like a lost puppy, Sloan continues to appear on your doorstep, yearning to see you. You let them in of course, and typically they would fall asleep on your couch and vanish by morning. One night, you decide to conduct an experiment. Just to see what would happen, you stole their pillow and tossed it into your bedroom, gesturing for them to follow.

"C'mon man, that can't be comfortable."

"You want to share a bed?"

"...if that's ok with you-"

★ They can barely contain their excitement, though they do try to hide it by creating a big wall of pillows between the two of you. The next time they sleepover, the pillow wall is gone. By the third, you wake up snuggling although you pretend you didn't.

★ It was incredible, how you could fall asleep so close together and yet feel so far apart. You hardly knew anything about them. What did they do for Talon? Why did they leave Overwatch? Would you ever grow the courage to ask? Would you be able to see them the same after hearing their answer?

★ It was like sleeping with a ghost- their embrace was so warm at night but by the time morning rolls around they're gone. All you have to prove they were there is leftover pizza and a rock they left on your kitchen table.

★ You wish it was enough for the both of you, and you could pretend it was, but deep down you knew it wasn't. Whatever you had, it wasn't enough to convince Sloan to leave their life of crime in the past, and it certainly wasn't enough for you to leave Overwatch to join them.

★ Instead you pretend what you had wasn't real. You pretend you hadn't found comfort in Sloan no less than 24 hours earlier as you pull on your uniform and prepare for your next reunion to be on the battlefield.

#this reads like something you'd find on wattpad #someone shoot me #didnt proof read cuz its almost like 2 am #overwatch fanfiction #overwatch venture #venture x you #venture x reader #venture ow2 #sloan cameron x reader #sloan cameron x you #villain venture #wanna write more for villain!ven

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clumsiestgiantess · 3 months

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My first piece for the @gtgotcha4gaza fundraiser! This one was donated by @biggnansmol with the prompt Overhead; enjoy!

My body presses close to the ground as I watch the traffic rush by in a cacophony of tremorous footsteps and raucous voices. I hunch down near the street corner of a building who knows how many thousands of times my size, looking intently out over the giants walking past. They travel without a single downward glance at the tiny man just barely taller than their palms.

Many, if not most, of my kind avoid anywhere near this kind of foot traffic. As a borrower, you can only withstand so much noise and movement constantly around you before your instincts tell you to run. What separates me from the rest is that my instincts can guide me through the crowd of gigantic beings, to other places entirely. I can make it to stores all the way on a different street if I really want to. I haven’t, but I can.

Cracked Concrete Colony — my home — lies halfway between the giants’ colony above, and the giants’ watery wasteland below. You’d think the giants — humans, they call themselves — would try pitching in to help us ever since they found out we exist. They didn’t. In fact, they now have the audacity to label us as pests; vermin. No wonder we decided to stay away from them.

As a seasoned package-runner, my job is to deliver supplies from our place to other smaller groups above, and sometimes bring supplies back again. Oh, and myself. I bring myself back every time. Not everyone does.

The worst shape I’ve come out of running is a sprained wrist, but there are some who’ve broken bones, lost limbs, and even died on the exact routes I take. I’m not too worried, though. My instincts are better than theirs, I’m sure. No one in the history of my colony — that people know of — has survived as long as me. I’m the best there is. Sure, I’ve come a mere arm’s length away from the sole of a shoe multiple times, but that’s normal for my line of work. Defying certain death is my average Tuesday.

So, once I see a break in the crowd, I make my move.

My brain and eyes work in tandem to spot every potential danger coming at me. Thankfully it’s mostly coming from the same side. The first few pairs of feet I dodge with ease — weaving in and out between the giants’ legs with perfect timing to their methodic gait.

However, one giant hurriedly stumbles through the crowd in the wrong direction. I have just enough time to brace myself before their foot rushes up to meet me. For a brief moment, I believe they’ll dash by right overhead, but the idea is short-lived.

The tip of a gigantic shoe digs into my stomach, catching on my side and kicking me across the rugged surface of the cement walkway. I cry out in pain as skin tears off my bare arms in shreds and I land in the ditch between the walkway and the awful road of machines. Rule number one of package-running: never go into the road. Ever. Everyone knows it’s certain death.

Agony spreads through my body, but I grit my teeth and bare it. I have to get back up onto that walkway. After a few minutes of desperate struggling — getting blown down and dragged backwards by the sheer force of the machines’ speed — I realize it’s pointless. It’s hard enough just hauling myself up with my scratched arms. Even without the machines, I don’t think I’d make it.

Just as I break out in a cold sweat, a shadow descends over me. A giant’s hand grabs me from above — fingers coiling around my midsection. Shrieking in both fright and pain, I claw at the human’s hand and get this close to biting them, when I’m flipped over and tucked much more securely against their palm.

Only briefly do I stop struggling to wonder why their grip is so cautious before trying to escape it again. “Hey, no no; it’s ok! I’ve got you little guy, you’ll be alright.” I… what? The giant slides their hand up against me to keep me from squirming out of their grasp. Their palm settles against my chest and my heart skips a beat. “Let me just find a safe spot to put you down.”

Fear still spikes through me like lightning at the way their fingers wrap around my torso to keep me still. My mind screams at me to keep fighting them because they’ll hurt me for sure if I don’t. However, there’s something about the way they’re handling me — as much as I hate the fact that they are handling me — that deters me from wanting to escape.

Then there’s the way they spoke… they immediately wanted to assure me that I’d be alright. The only things I’ve been told by giants are “Get out of here!” and “Oh eww, what the heck are you?!” so it’s quite the unexpected upgrade.

Suddenly, the hands around me slide away and I’m deposited gently in a small alleyway. I peer hesitantly up at the giant, kneeling down over me. Their worried expression softens slightly when I do. “There you go, safely away from the road and people. Don’t go back there anymore, ok?” My mouth drops open, utterly shocked. “Th - Thank.. you?” I say in awed confusion. How am I not dead? Were they helping me get out of the road?

With a small smile, they stand back up and walk off into the crowd of other giants. I was left standing only a storefront or two up from where I began. In a few minutes it’s as if none of it had happened at all.

Briefly, I think about trying to go after the giant — ask them why they did that for me. Then, I take a step and my entire body tenses in pain — dragging me out of my stupor. Actually.. I think I’ll just head back and get healed up. I’d tested my luck enough for one day. Even without the giant’s help, I’m still lucky I hadn’t been stepped on, only kicked.

Maybe I’d dodge past my unlikely hero on the walkway sometime again and ask them then. I’m just lucky that the strangely benevolent giant had given me another chance to keep surviving. Hauling myself to the street corner once again, I dash off into the crowd, making it home in only a little less time than usual.

#gt gotcha4gaza #g/t #giant/tiny

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cr4yolaas · 2 months

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mezzo forte — pity party

track 6: workaholic methology | masterlist | track 8: non-confrontational

it's dark and a little louder than it should be, given the time. mattsun and makki man the kitchen counter, haphazardly pouring out drinks and serving food, while the mass of old classmates disperses among the living room.

hajime sits beside her on the couch, the stress and irritation from two nights prior still lingering. he doesn't realize it's the same for her -- that all her mind can think of is her unfinished work at home and her last conversation with hitoka and kiyoko. they bask in shared silence, both oblivious to the other's grievances.

kiyoomi's words haunt hajime. for a moment, he casts his gaze towards her. he knows there's an edge of truth to his roommate's words.

he swallows the lump in his throat. "how have you been? has the album been going well?" he asks, his voice nearly drowned out by the excess noise surrounding them.

she's startled, initially, until she remembers who she's speaking to. "i've been okay, just really, really busy. i'm trying to work on everything as soon as possible so i can take a break, but," heavy breaths escape her as she pauses to think. "it's hard. there's so much to do, and not enough time. it sucks."

"well," he hums. "just make sure you watch yourself. i know you have a tendency to overwork when it comes to deadlines."

all she can muster in response is a nod, and again, it's silent. she can't stop her fingers from drumming against her thigh, an anxious habit she developed in middle school.

"have you been eating well?" he can't stand the tension.

"i'm not sure if living off of take-out and leftovers is considered eating well." she smiles as she speaks. something about it messes with the hardwiring of his brain.

"that's not healthy, you know. you need balanced meals. otherwise, you can't-"

she cuts him off with a laugh, lighthearted and airy. the sound makes his ears turn red, although the color is barely visible in this setting. "i know, i know. you don't have to worry about me all the time, haji. i can hold up on my own."

his head feels fuzzy. he's anxious, so much so that his words escape him before he can think about them. "how can i not? you're like- you're kind of like a sister to me, you know?"

it's not what he wanted to say, at all. regret washes over him before he can fully register the consequences of his words. he can see it all happening -- the drop in her posture, the glaze in her eyes, her cheek getting caught between her teeth. he wants to claw his eyes out and rid himself of the sight.

she finds it instinctual to laugh it off. a half-hearted response spills out, something about how it's so sweet that he sees her like that, before she excuses herself under the guise of needing to use the bathroom. it's a half truth. but before she can reach the door, she finds tooru seated on the floor speaking with someone she doesn't quite remember, and instead of escaping into the promising quietude of the restroom, she sits beside him.

tooru's friend departs at her entrance, leaving them alone on the ground with their backs to the wall. he bears a bottle in one hand and a warm, loopy smile on his face, his inebriation evident. he greets her happily, and in his cheeriness she finds herself joining him, the bottle now reaching her own lips.

it's just them. he's overjoyed.

but after two sips too many, she starts to overflow. coherent jokes turn into disoriented rambles. she grabs onto his arm, and for a moment, he thinks that this is good. this is promising.

instead, hajime's name falls from her lips, the syllables slurred and sorrowful. she rambles on and on about how foolish she feels, how she can't fathom how she could write about him for years when it so clearly wasn't meant for her, how she so desperately wishes he'd see her as anything more than a friend just so the chase wouldn't feel so pointless.

tooru can hear his heart shattering in his chest. he listens all the same, like a good friend should, but with every second that goes on, he feels himself sobering up.

it's messy. white hot tears prick at his eyes, but he knows he can't cry when a familiar silhouette approaches.

"i need to bring her home," hajime whispers carefully, a furrow in his brow and a downturn to his lips, a painful look that tells tooru that he heard everything. "her uh- her roommates called. they want her to head home."

she's not conscious enough to tune into the conversation. all she can feel is his calloused hands on her shoulders and her feet stumbling towards the door, horribly unaware of how everything has shifted.

♪ super short chapter !

♪ makki actually had no idea what he was doing tbh he just started mixing together random drinks and calling it his speciality

♪ yn and iwa thought the party was just going to be their friend group from hs, not a huge group of random third years that they barely remember

♪ oikawa forgot about that part when he invited them :3

♪ a lot of this is really cheesy but i had this whole scene thought out and i just didn't want to go too deep into detail since in my head i feel like it all happens really fast. yn is probably too upset and drunk and sad to even think about what's happening so i felt like it was fitting to have everything be really quick and straightforward

♪ makki and mattsun didnt notice haji and yn leaving bc they may or may not have started a mini fire with their food. whoops !

♪ the gfs called haji and were begging him to bring her home bc they had a feeling something was wrong (and they missed her). they were right </3

taglist: @zumicho @causenessus @guitarstringed-scars @yuminako @chemiru @sunnyskiezzzz @httpsivy @itsdragonius @theycallmenanamisgirl @wyrcan @19calicos @hunnies4bunnies @mawenskiblue @diorzs @loverlunaire @mfcherry @solaqes @myromanempiree @brithedemonspawn @corvid007 @lilchubbyyy

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herbs-and-poultices · 3 months

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More plotless self-indulgent stabbing...

(I actually finished writing something in a reasonable amount of time?!?!)

@silvercap wrote this lovely piece and it got stuck in my brain, and they were so kind as to let me run with it a bit :) so uh... now available with extra plotless self-indulgent stabbing?

Graphic description of blood and injury, hurt / not much comfort, character death.

Resident Evil characters, there's a kiss at the end but it's more whumpy than anything, possibly a bit of implied past relationship (?) of some sort but I kept that whole thing fairly ambiguous

A bit outside my usual aftermath/caretaking content, but I do love a good ol' knife between the ribs. Ship stuff is definitely outside my usual, I just (mostly) left in what Silver wrote.

I don't actually know these characters (only from hurt/comfort fanfiction and a cursory glance through fandom wiki), so things probably won't be accurate to canon/fanon for those who are properly familiar with it.

Silver's original / close-to-original is in italics. Silver, let me know if you want me to change anything about how I did this, since it includes your wonderful work.

With a ruthless twist of his wrist, Krauser sends Leon’s knife clattering to the floor. Leon follows an instant later, aching legs swept out from under him. But the hard crack of his spine on the concrete is dull compared with the bright white pain that cuts suddenly into his chest.

His free arm flails desperately against Krauser’s shoulder, scrabbles at his wide throat, but the pull on flayed muscle ignites a fire that flares from sternum to fingertips, turning the limb frustratingly weak and uncoordinated. The rest of him is well and truly pinned, Krauser’s meaty fist heavy on his other bicep so he can only claw ineffectually at the sleeve of his camo uniform, one knee between his legs with the thigh pressing his hips into the rough warehouse floor, the other leg planted wide in an unshakeable stance.

Many things have changed in the years since he trained in the military with Krauser as his CO, but some things remain the same. Krauser is a mountain of a man, and, skilled and combat-hardened though Leon might have become, in a position like this his agility is no match for the Major’s sheer bulk. When the knife digging into him was rubber and he was - if not exactly fresh nor well-rested - at least not exhausted from two days trying to survive another goddamn mission gone ass-up, he had tried a few times to find an opening in Krauser’s stance or force him to shift his weight enough to take back the offensive, but it never once ended well. And now, even if he could somehow power through the pain long enough to get his muscles to obey him… The blaze of agony is abated - or perhaps simply concentrated - enough that he can feel with terrible clarity the blade of Krauser’s knife, cold metal sunk into the muscle of his chest, the fine tip resting neatly between two of his ribs. Pinned, indeed. Like a butterfly in a biologist's display case. Any resistance could only hasten the inevitable.

Even as the recognition settles in his mind, his limbs continue to struggle, searching instinctively for any leverage, until Krauser leans ever so slightly forward. The pointed blade drags roughly through the gristle of muscle and tendon protecting his rib cage; his already clenched jaw knots in tooth-crushing tightness and his head slams back involuntarily against the floor, eyes scrunched tight as a keening sound escapes his throat. And then with an awful tear it slips free, gliding into viscera. His eyes fly open, head lifting off the floor again to take in the sickening sight of his own blood spilling across his chest and staining Krauser’s hand where it grasps the knife, but all he can do is gasp in a slow trickle of dank air.

Their eyes meet. Krauser pauses for a moment. Then one corner of his otherwise hard-set mouth twitches up by a hair’s breadth.

Leon coughs a spray of blood as the knife sinks deeper into his breast, eyes widening and breath catching in a wheeze as the wicked blade carves remorselessly into his chest cavity. The chill of sharp metal through the warmest, vitalest core of his body is beyond his mind’s ability to accurately comprehend. Above him, Krauser's ragged expression has twisted into something unreadable, scars blurring as Leon feels him force the knife another inch deeper to settle it fully into place, the guard pressed flat against his skin through the blood-drenched fabric of his jacket and shirt which are far too thin to offer any protection against the chill creeping into him. The tip scrapes bone somewhere under his shoulderblade; static runs up and down his spine and out to the ends of his fingers and toes, and nausea pools in the back of his throat. His head falls back, hands loosening where they'd been desperately trying to stop Krauser's attacks. He's---he's failed. And he knows - from the frantic fluttering just below his sternum every time he tries to take a breath, from the way the burning pressure in his chest cavity builds and builds like a volcano about to erupt, suffocating him in a tide of blood and crushing him within the cage of his own ribs, from the way Krauser’s lip curls in grim satisfaction - there will be no coming back from this one.

The knife shifts a fraction of an inch as Krauser releases it. Leon gasps another agonized sound, unable to feel anything but the radiating, piercing pain skewering his major organs. A moment later, Krauser removes the other hand from his bicep, evidently confident at this point that he's in no position to try anything. Krauser's knee brushes over Leon’s leg where he'd jammed it in the fighting, his broad chest emanating humid heat as he props an elbow next to Leon's head and lets his weight come to rest partly against Leon's uninjured side.

Leon finds himself leaning into the contact, unable to deny that it is perversely comforting. The man’s body is solid, feels almost protective as it curls around him. And warm, so warm against his cooling skin, a blissful shelter from the chill which has been soaking through his limbs. Everywhere that isn't an inferno of pain has turned to ice, and he feels like he'll never be warm again. He won't, he realizes. Sudden memories of happier days make his heart ache in a different way, tears starting in his eyes. Warm sunshine and cozy rooms, smiles and laughter, back-slaps and tight embraces. Many of those people are dead. Some have been corrupted, bought out, turned traitor. The rest he fervently hopes are far away from here, safe from this nightmare. It's silly, to be crying as the life slowly stutters and drains from his broken, exhausted body, but Leon doesn't have the strength to stop himself.

Krauser rumbles from somewhere deep in his ribcage, like the purr of a lion. "Give in, soldier. It's useless to hold on like this." His voice is the gravelly rasp that Leon once thought was caring. He knows better, now.

"F-fuck you," Leon wheezes, blinking heavily to fight off the black spots encroaching on his vision. He can't breathe right, and God it hurts to try. A rough hand cards through his hair, the sensation lost in the sudden numbness that's begin to tug at his consciousness with a gentle insistence that makes it impossible to want to fight. He struggles for a moment, overwhelmed by the panicked fluttering caged beneath his ribs, only to sob and let himself go limp a moment later. "I'm s-sorry."

He’s not quite sure who he’s saying it to. To the many people he couldn’t save from so many tragic, horrific hellholes. To the mentor who for so long he could never seem to please no matter how hard he tried, throwing himself into training until he was worn down to the bone but never good enough for the stern-faced Major. Or to the bright-eyed police academy recruit from so many years ago who thought he could somehow put the world to right. Maybe all of them.

"Stubborn." Krauser sounds almost fond, blue eyes fading in and out of focus. He strokes Leon's hair again. He seems to hesitate. "I'm sorry, too."

Leon’s body convulses weakly, some primitive instinct still struggling in vain against the raging sea of agony. Each breath is shallower than the last, a great weight pressing down on his chest until he's sure his ribs must be buckling in, choking him on mouthfuls of hot copper.

“Let it happen, Rookie.” Krauser’s hand brushes a last strand of hair from his forehead and tucks it behind his ear before curving to cup the back of his skull, tipping his head up slightly. “I’ve got you.”

His mouth finds Leon's somewhere in the darkness that's settled over the world, hot and sharp with the acrid tang of blood and smoke. It's shockingly nice. Scarred lips brush softly against his own, the soothing sensation of mingling tongues and skin on skin easing Leon's distress. Krauser is here, with him, kissing him. It's steadying, comfortable. Bittersweet.

Leon can’t breath, could barely anyways, but he finds this way he doesn’t mind so much. His throat spasms once, twice, three times for air he cannot have, before the shuddering muscles are quieted by a heavy palm on the crests of his collarbones.

He exhales, and the world ends.

#my pen slipped #and slipped and slipped

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