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bettyfrommars · 7 months

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Ring of Fire

a biker Steve au

Part 2: More Than Words

masterlist playlist

18+ONLY, MDNI, longing, friends to strangers to lovers, mature themes, mention of sex work and violence, reader has secrets, so does Steve, eventual smut, dirty deeds, biker!Hopper. It's the mid 90's and Steve is in his early 30's.

word count: 4.3k

Summary: Getting to know the town of Hawkeye, including Munson's Garage and Patsy's diner. Steve has dreams of another life he never lived. Reader has dreams of Steve. Hopper spends his spare time looking out for Lorelei.

A/N: There will be references to I'm on Fire in the first part of this chapter by way of dreams, but it is not a crucial plot point to the story, just in case you are not familiar with the other series. I keep wanting to bring more of the places/people in from IoF, but every time I do, this Steve morphs into the old one, and I love the idea of exploring him this way, without the other backstory.

Morning cracked open through your blinds, a bright sun void of warmth. Rolling to face the wall on your floor mattress, you curled the lemon-yellow comforter up over your head, only to be bludgeoned by the onslaught of birds tweeting outside your window.

A motorcycle grumbled by on the street below and you were officially awake.

There was a kitchenette in your apartment, but you didn’t have a coffee maker or grounds yet. The diner opened at 6am on weekends, and that is where you planned to go. You considered throwing a coat on and shuffling over in your pajamas, but ended up pulling on a change of wardrobe that did not match and a shirt that was inside out.

7:30 was far too early for clever dressing.

The sky matched the color of the pavement by the time you stepped out onto the sidewalk, now that the sun had been obscured by hulking clouds. You pulled the hood of your sweatshirt up as a soft drizzle misted your skin, waiting for a big truck to pass before making your way across the street.

One block over and two blocks down was the red and white sign for Patsy’s Diner. You spotted it just as the rain fell unyielding, your feet picking up the pace.

There were three cars in the slant street parking out front, including a big black Chevy truck with a square body style from the early 70’s.

You didn’t see Steve until it was too late. Not until you locked eyes through the diner window.

—-----

Steve picked Robin up every Saturday morning to have breakfast at Patsy’s, which had been their ritual for almost a decade. There’d been a couple exceptions, including the months Robin was locked up for voluntarily taking the weed possession charge for one of her girlfriends, and a few when Steve had been out of town on a run with the Coffin Kings. Other than that, even with the worst head-splitting hangover, they never missed it.

Robin chucked her leather jacket into the booth first before she slid in wearing paint-splattered overalls over a baggy tee with the band Heart on the front. Her warm golden hair fell to her shoulders, worn in a low ponytail, exposing the “lover” tattoo inked in cursive just under her ear.

Their booth was right at the front corner of the L-shaped diner, next to the window. Steve had even carved their initials under the table at one point with his old utility knife. The booths were burnt sienna vinyl that were so worn at the seat that they were ripped in places, exposing the gauzy innards. The waitress Jeanette collected steaming plates from the kitchen hatch to carry to another table while Sharon, her co-worker, brought over a pot of coffee and two stout, brown mugs.

Steve rolled a toothpick around in his mouth from side to side as he held open the laminated menu to look it over, even though he could read the whole thing with his eyes closed.

“Rough night?” Robin asked while she concentrated on stirring three spoons of sugar and a hearty dollop of cream into her coffee.

Steve didn’t look up from the menu. “How could you tell?”

Between the raw strawberry on his knuckles and the dark purple half-moons under his eyes, he knew the answer.

“Your hair looks like it’s trying to evacuate your scalp.”

She waited for him to start combing the mess back with his fingers to give a soft chuckle.

Steve let the menu go flat on the table and palmed the rim of his black coffee to pull it closer. “I had another one of those dreams last night.”

His best friend’s eyes snapped up, but then Jeanette was there to take their order and the conversation had to pause while Steve got his standard hotcakes with bacon, and Robin her omelet with hash browns and sourdough toast. They exchanged a few pleasantries, since Jeanette had worked there as long as the two of them had been alive, and then Robin settled back in her seat with a weary huff.

Steve felt like he had to remind himself to blink, his eyes were so dry. He looked at his hands as he spoke. “I had a kid, a little boy.”

Robin leaned forward to rest her forearms on the table. “Was I his mother in this one? These dreams of yours freak me out. I can’t imagine being someone’s mother, like, not ever.”

“You were a really good one though,” a hesitant smile quivered on his lips. “You helped me raise him even though he wasn’t biologically yours. But in the dream last night I—”

Every time he woke up from those particular dreams, he mourned the loss of a child he never had.

He cut off what he was about to say, the memory of the love he felt in his dream hitting him like a wave. “Last night I was about to get married to some woman, and we had a baby on the way. My baby.”

Robin was about to crack a joke, but then thought better of it. “I know what it feels like. To have the kind of dreams you don’t want to wake up from. Who in the hell would want to wake up to our lives.”

“Wayne is healthy though,” Steve nodded to himself, trying to find the positives. “In these dreams he’s…sick or something, and I’m always worried he's not going to live much longer.”

“The apocalypse couldn’t kill Wayne,” she smiled. “Old man will outlive all of us.”

The food came, and the topic of conversation changed, until Robin shoved a bite into her cheek. “What was his name, do you remember? Your son?”

“His name was Oliver,” Steve held a strip of bacon out, not ready to take a bite yet.

Robin bobbed her head a few times. “That’s a good name,” and then, “you want to talk about what happened last night?”

“Same old shit,” he huffed, slapping a few crumbs off his black tee while he chewed. “Hop and I were called out to the junkyard and—”

There you were again, like another dream he was bound to wake up from.

Robin was concentrating on shoveling a particularly big bite into her mouth, so she didn’t know why he’d gone so quiet, until she followed his line of sight.

You stepped inside, wiping the rain off your face, but you kept your hood on while you waited for a waitress to greet you. Inside the diner was cozy, wall to wall carpeted a teddy bear brown, and smelled of cooked meats, coffee, and syrup. It made your mouth water, and you wondered if you should splurge on something.

Jeanette tried offering to seat you at the bar, but you were adamant that you’d take a brew and some sugars to go. Also a toasted bagel, you added that in at the last second.

“You want egg on that, honey?” Jeanette asked, nestling her pen in the curly silver hair above her ear.

Peeking out from the side of your hood, you noticed Steve lifting up to get a better look at you from his window booth. “No, plain is fine, thank you.”

“Who is that?” Robin asked, wiping her mouth as she turned around in her seat to get a look at you.

“No one. Someone I knew in middle school,” Steve mumbled, hacking into his stack of pancakes with the side of his fork. “She’s the new renter above Donna’s place.”

“Huh,” Robin turned her attention back to her plate. “Why do you look so flustered?”

You were standing at the door, watching the rain come down in sheets, when you felt a warm body sink in behind you.

“You need a ride back?” It was Steve with his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “It looks pretty…wet out there.”

When you turned to face him, you brushed some forgotten crumbs off of his chest with your hand. It was a very familiar gesture, one that neither of you thought too much about.

It was on your tongue to decline, but it was the integrity of your bagel that concerned you. Jeanette brought you the big to-go cup and warm bread in a paper bag.

“Just as long as you aren’t here on your bike.”

—------

Steve ran over to tell his companion to sit tight while he drove you the 3 blocks home. His friend waved at you from her seat, and you gave a tentative wave back. More like just holding your hand up in the air actually, something of a Spok greeting.

“I don’t want to interrupt you—”

“She’s fine,” Steve assured, lifting his jacket up to hold over your head as the two of you pushed through the door and into the frey. “This will only take a minute.”

Hunkering down, you jerked the heavy metal door of his ‘78 Chevy pickup open, and then spread yourself long across the bench seat to reach over and pop the lock on his door.

Rain dripping down his face, Steve watched your two fingers pluck the lock up, and it was a small gesture to most, but a tender one for him. Not even his ex-girlfriend had afforded him such consideration, not once.

You weren’t his girlfriend though, you were barely a friend. An acquaintance he’d fantasized about in his formative years.

Once you were both under shelter in the dry cab, you glanced up through the windshield and saw Robin keeping an eye on the two of you from her place at the window. Even through the visual distortion from the rain, you could make out a soft smile lingering, perking up her cheeks.

The interior smelled like him: old leather, cigarettes, and the yellow, vanilla, tree-shaped freshener hanging from the volume knob on his radio.

“Sorry if it stinks in here,” he reached down to swat the ashtray closed that was full of smoked filters. “I need to clean that out.”

“Are you familiar with the dumpsters in the alley behind Donna’s place?”

He nodded yes as he put the key in the ignition.

“Well, they are right under my bedroom window, and I have no air conditioning. I’m looking forward to how my place will smell in the dead of summer.”

The truck grumbled to life and he anchored his arm around the seat to turn and see where he was going as he backed up. “You just need one of those air conditioning units that fits in the window. I know a guy, I’ll get you one.”

You hadn’t been fishing for help but, “that’s really nice of you, thanks.” His offer made you feel small for a second.

Less than a minute later, you were at your place. He pulled in as close as he could to the awning without crashing into the cement structure.

Not many words were exchanged as you got out, just a few mumbles of “thank you” and “good to see you”, but then you were out and slamming his heavy door shut to hurry inside. He waited out there for a few beats, wishing he would’ve said more before coasting back to the diner.

—---

Later that day, as the sun faded to a collage of pink orange behind the low hills, Hopper sat on his Harley in the parking lot of the Rosebud Motel.

The amount of time spent waiting there, watching the door to room 11 might have sounded absurd to some, but he knew that no one could look after her like he could.

He’d read about a trucker in the news who was paying women for sex and then hurting them. A few of the girls were missing, and foul play was suspected, but no one cared about the victims enough to investigate much. Most of Lorelei’s clientele were locals; lonely hired hands and married men, but there were always transient travelers looking for some company when they passed through town. Those were the ones he was concerned about.

The door to her room opened just as he lit a fresh cigarette. The guy that stepped out was pushing 70, adjusting his suspenders over his shoulders. She stayed in the doorway, covered in one of her satin robes, and kissed him on the cheek. Her appointments weren’t always about sex. Some were, for sure, and those he preferred not to think about, but a lot were touched starved hermits who craved conversation and a shoulder rub from a beautiful woman. A few liked to worship her feet. One guy preferred to feed her ice cream while they watched Cheers reruns on the bed together. Bottom line, nothing she shared surprised him any more.

The local customers knew that Hopper was her watchdog, and they’d be too afraid to cross a line with her, even if they wanted to.

Hopper had not yet been intimate with Lorelei though; not even a kiss.

For years, he’d managed to keep it platonic, ever since she hired him to be her driver and bodyguard for a date with a new customer she wasn’t yet comfortable with. He’d known that same night that he wanted to be with her, but he also knew he wasn’t special, that she saw him as a bit of a necessary evil to keep the bad man away.

But, Hopper was a bad man who had done many bad things. She deserved better.

He would protect her with his life at the drop of a hat.

Ned, the guy in the suspenders, shuffled to his Chrysler LeBaron, and then Lorelei turned to smile at Hopper.

He fixed his hair, slicking it back on each side, squinting as he plucked the last of his smoke from between his lips, tossing it to the pavement before adjusting his Coffin Kings cut to wave back.

—----

The rain was off and on all day, until the night shadows snuffed it out, allowing only a damp mist to remain. Earlier, you’d found a coffee maker at the thrift store, and when you still couldn’t sleep at midnight, you decided to caffeinate yourself to see if it counteracted your awakeness and made you sleepy. Not much logic to it, but still, there it was.

Deciding to go out for a walk, you zipped your jacket up and headed out, down along the dumpster alley, and out into the street that led to the park. The playground equipment sat so ominously motionless, the empty expanse felt eerie for a moment as you made your way over to the swings, hands shoved deep into your pockets.

You grabbed onto the chain, sitting in the teal plastic seat. Beneath you, the ground was worn into a large divot where years of dragging feet had been. You remember sitting on the same swig when you were a little kid and your feet couldn’t reach the dirt.

“Do you want to be alone?” His voice came out of nowhere, making your head turn so fast you almost kinked your neck.

You saw the plume of cigarette smoke before you saw him. He was cloaked in darkness, but there was something about his shape, the way he sauntered forward.

“Steve?”

“Miss me?”

You took a deep breath, attempting to slow your heart rate. “What are you doing out here?”

“I was just wondering the same thing about you,” he came fully into view then, illuminated by the full moon through the tree boughs. “This is my park.”

“Oh,” you looked around with mock surprise. “You own this whole park? You did well for yourself.”

With a flick of ash from his cig, he sank down into the swing next to you, chains clinking against the aluminum bracing as he did so. His hair curled at the base of his neck, the thick top part flopping to one side as he raked a hand through it. He was wearing that same type of v-neck shirt under his leather jacket to give a peak of his chest hair and tattoos, as if he knew you’d be looking. As if he’d known he’d run into you.

He smirked. “When Eddie and I were kids, we lived in that trailer park a few blocks that way,” he nodded over his shoulder. “We spent a lot of time here. Any excuse to get out of the house.”

He extended the pack of cigarettes out to offer you one, but you declined that time. “What were you out here doing tonight though?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” he grumbled a laugh. “Decided to go for a ride. You?”

“Same, with the not being able to sleep thing. In the city there is more to do but not many options here.”

“Tell me about it,” he scoffed.

You shared a silence then, one that did not feel empty or awkward, but then he looked up at the sky that was clear and bright with stars.

“Do you wanna get out of here? Go for a ride?”

It took you a full minute to answer, but it was not a hesitance based on uncertainty. It was hesitance based on wondering if Steve knew what he was getting himself into with someone like you.

“Where are we going? New Mexico?”

He shrugged, making eye contact again. “We could. If that’s what you want.”

You ran your tongue along the ridge of your teeth, waiting for him to come over and take your hand to help you out of the seat. He pulled you up so fast, your chests crashed together, your mouths inches apart.

“I want to show you something,” he said, brushing his lips against yours.

—-

When you blinked awake the next morning, you realized that meeting Steve on the playground had been a dream. You let the weight of its loss sink in as you rubbed sleep from your eyes, fumbling for the key around your neck as if you might’ve misplaced it in another dimension.

On the other side of town, Steve revved his bike to life in the garage of the picket fence house he’d been renting from Eddie Munson. Eddie’s ex Melanie left him high and dry with a mortgage on his hands, and he was quick to offer it to his friend when he had nowhere to go. Steve took care of the small lawn, and did any repairs with money from his own pocket. He didn’t really care about the quaint seaside bungalow look of it—the garage was all that mattered to him. He could keep his bike in there and fix up project cars when he had the means.

He was running late, so he took the shortcut through the back alleyways of town.

Or maybe he knew he’d be on time, he just wanted to cruise by your apartment and see if he could get a glimpse of you.

Coffee was brewing in the office at Munson’s Garage when he got there and from behind the desk, Robin looked surprised.

“You’re almost a half hour early,” she dropped her attention to the papers she was organizing. “Did you get any sleep at all?”

“I slept great actually,” he lied, pulling a styrofoam cup off the stack to fill it with steaming brew. “At least five hours.”

“No shit,” she returned under her breath. “If you’re ready to clock in, Eddie has that Plymouth up on the lift for you to take a look at. The owner wants to pick it up this afternoon.”

She stood to hand Steve a sheet of paper as she spoke. “A few vehicles are coming in to get serviced at 9. Eddie has to pick up a tow in Everett, so it’s just you and Hopper today.”

Through the window over Robin’s head, Steve could see the inside of the garage and Hopper leaning against a tall red tool caddy to have a smoke. He bucked his chin at Steve when he caught his eye.

A few hours into the daily grind, Steve was murmuring the lyrics to the song More Than Words by Extreme while he was on the creeper under a car, thankful for Hopper’s presence since he really didn’t give a shit about the music. Eddie though? His tastes were very particular, and they usually had to flip a coin. When Steve won the toss, Eddie grumbled around the bay all day, rolling his eyes at Steve’s enthusiasm for Prince’s entire discography.

Hopper kicked Steve’s foot to get his attention.

“What’s up man?” Steve grunted, continuing to work.

“Protection run tonight with Bones and a few of the others. Are you coming?” Hopper had on cement gray coveralls and pulled a red rag from his back pocket to wipe carburetor fluid off his hands.

Steve stopped what he was doing and used his legs to inch out from under the Pontiac Firebird. He’d scratched his neck several times and wiped his eye, so there were dark smudges in those spots. A protection run was when members of the Coffin Kings went along to escort precious, most likely illegal, cargo across state lines.

Steve didn’t answer, so Hopper continued. “Sounds like we’ll each be getting a couple grand a head.”

A couple grand? For a few hours of work when he wouldn’t be sleeping anyway? Oh yeah, Steve was going on the protection run, no matter the risks.

“Steve?” The voice belonged to someone else that time.

Someone who sounded a lot like you.

Steve sat up on the creeper and fiddled with the wrench in his hand, sure that it was only Robin and he was just hearing things.

But, there you were, stepping into the garage from the parking lot with what appeared to be a Pyrex casserole dish in your hands.

“Um, hi, you—um,” Steve got to his feet after a clumsy shuffle with the creeper, wiping his hands off as well as he could on his jeans.

“I brought you some lunch,” flustered, you realized it was past noon and surely he’d had lunch already. “Or dinner, whichever. As a thank you for driving me home yesterday.”

Hopper looked from Steve to you and then back to you again before excusing himself to the other side of the garage.

Robin hurried to spy on the conversation from the air conditioned privacy in the office.

“For me?” He wasn’t trying to be obtuse, he was genuinely confused.

“Well,” you steadied the dish in your grasp, glancing around. “Or whoever else might want some. It’s lasagna. My mom’s recipe. Donna let me use her oven, I made some for myself earlier and just thought you might…um…do you like lasagna?”

“Sure,” he reached out to take it from you. “Who doesn’t like lasagna?”

The words were there, but you couldn’t read the expression on his face. The scowl lines in his forehead and the down-turned side of his mouth told you that he was repulsed by all of it: the lasagna, you, everything.

Steve was speechless. Not for lack of words, but more an abundance of them. The last time anyone had cared to make something for him was his grandmother before she passed. Robin had made him dinner a handful of times, but that was different. Still, all he could do was stare at the tin foil cover and wet his lips.

Your brain raced. “If it’s too much, I can take it back?”

“No,” Steve moved the dish away as if to protect it from your reaching hands. “I’ll make sure to clean the dish when I’m done and get it back to you.”

“Don’t worry about it,” you shuffled back, turning on your heel to beeline for your car as fast as you could.

We were going to run away to New Mexico together, remember?

A few other Coffin Kings had just pulled into the parking lot, and with narrowed eyes, Steve noticed that they were all watching you walk away.

Fuckers.

He struggled to find a place to put the blue dish down, and finally settled on the concrete, so he could head off after you at a jog.

“Hey,” he caught your arm, moving with purpose to block their leering view of you. “Is that your car? Let me walk you over there,” pointing to the yellow Dodge Omni parked under the awning.

You moved a few steps, so did he, and then you eyed him suspiciously. “What’s going on?”

One of the Kings whistled their approval of you, and Steve gnashed his teeth.

“Nothings going on, I just wanted to make sure you know how grateful I am. For coming over here. With the food. For bringing me food.”

You tried to see where the whistle had come from, but Steve darted to the side to block your view.

God, he was blowing it. What a tool.

You wanted to tell him about the dream you had, but right then didn’t feel like a good time.

“I have to get back to work,” you looked at your hands, and then lifted them to the heartbeat in his tan throat, and eventually up to his full lips. “See you later?”

He reached out as if he might hug you, but then put his arms down again, slapping them to his sides. “Hey, are you busy tomorrow night?”

“I work during the day, but otherwise I’m never busy,” you swallowed, avoiding his gaze.

“Do you want to get out of here? Go for a ride?”

But then, your eyes snapped up at the familiarity of the questioning.

“There’s something I want to show you,” he added.

----

Thank you so much to my readers, I love you and love to hear what you think.

#Steve Harrington #Steve Harrington au #biker!Steve #biker Steve Harrington #biker!Hopper #Ring of Fire #Steve Harrington fic #Steve Harrington series #Steve Harrington smut #biker au

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christopher-bangnaldoskzz · 2 years

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Soft Dom Bangchan x Female Reader Sub!

Genre: 🌶️🌶️🌶️

Word count: 3.3k

Warnings: No warnings yet, however, I am going to say this is strictly 18+ MDNI fan fiction.

Summary: A sub needs a dom, a dom wants a sub but what happens when feelings overlap with contracts and love creeps in? Will a contract remain only a contract? Or are emotions like love too hard to keep in check?

A/N: would also like to dedicate this story to @daceydeath, thank you for always putting up with my deluluness, also thank you for putting up with my drama fill life honestly. I wouldn’t be still writing if it wasn’t for you encouraging me. Also thank you so much for writing my summary xx

"Don't be stupid, Grace," you say to your friend. Surely she is joking. She wasn't serious, right?

"Yes, I'm serious." She was your only friend in the BDSM world, and she was a dom as well.

"What!….noooo, king, please, I'm not looking for one at the moment" that was a lie. You did want a dom however, what you didn't like was finding a random dom on the internet. Grace knows your past experiences with doms. Unfortunately, the last don you were with was a pit too rough for your taste.

"I have found a guy I think you will like...he classifies himself as a soft Dom," she said, pulling out her phone to show you a picture of the guy on the screen.

You look closely at the profile photos. He definitely takes your fancy. "Grace, please tell me you haven't messaged him?" You watch her mouth move into a shit-eating grin.

"He's here right now." She was such an asshole for doing this to you. "Okay, behave," she says through her teeth, and the young man walks over to the table.

"Umm, hi," he said with his hand behind his neck. You glance up, and there in front of you stands a 5ft7 man with brown hair and the most striking brown eyes you have ever seen. Your heart flutters as he awkwardly chuckles and sits down.

He smiled, setting up his chair as he introduced himself to you. "Hi, I'm Chan ... It's nice to meet you". As he did, the glass of red wine your friend ordered fell onto his black suit.

"Oh shit," he said, lifting the glass up in a hurry. The waiter rushed over to help with the cleanup.

"I'm so sorry, sir…we will get you another glass," the waiter said, signing for the bartender to come over.

"No, no, it's okay, all my fault. I don't need another glass, thanks…but maybe miss-"He looked at you for confirmation of your last name.

"Y/L/N", you smiled. "But no, thank you, I don't drink," you said before the waiter turned the bartender away.

You could hear a soft "good girl" as Chan wiped the wine off his jacket.

"Wait, don't rub, dab….please allow me," you said, leaning over. He lifted his eyes to look at you, your cleavage in his line of sight.

He slowly hands you the jacket. "Thank you, but you don't have to" by the time he had finished, you were already dabbing his coat with the napkin and water in your glass.

He gazed at you. "It stops the mark from spreading."

"Well, this is off to a swimming start…I shall be heading out," Grace said, closing her handbag and starting to walk out of the restaurant.

"I'm sorry she made you come all the way here to meet me," you said, tucking your hair behind your ears, so they stopped blocking your view.

"I'm not," he mumbled.

You look up, and he just stares at you wide-eyed. "Here… you'll have to put some stain remover on it when you get home. Let it sit for 20 minutes, then soak it" you pass the jacket back to him.

"Stain remover…then soak, got it, thanks", he smiled, placing the jacket behind him.

"So, have you been here before?" He asked, itching his shoulder blades.

"I'm going to cut to the chase," you said, leaning in. "I know Grace told you I'm looking for a dom…but honestly, I don't think we are suited."

Chan scoffs, "Oh really?…what makes you think that?" The sudden change in his confidence was such a turn-on.

"Well, for one, you can barely keep it together", you giggled.

"Well…. You might just have to keep it together for both of us," he smiled, looking down at his menu. "Should we start over?" you asked the man. He doesn't back down easily.

"Sure….. I'm Y/N" you suck your hand out for him to shake.

"Chan…or you can call me Chris for now" he made eye contact with you as he squeezed your hand. "So tell me, Y/N…..what do you like to eat… it's on me, obviously", he smiled, feeling proud of himself.

"Hmmm, your paying?….. I think I might get the lobster," you grin. He chuckled as he ignored you and kept looking at the menu.

"Are you ready to order?" The same waiter as before announced

"I'll grab the eye fillet, please….medium rare", Chan said, smiling and looking up and over towards you.

"And Y/N will have the lobster, right?" The fact that he was actually willing to pay for your $100 lobster meal was exciting.

"Oh yes, please" you smile sweetly at the waiter, who nods and writes down the meal.

"You honestly didn't have to order me lobster…I could have picked something else," you said, leaning in.

"The truth is… I'm secretly hoping you don't eat it all so I can have some," he too, leaning in, whispering like it was a secret. You like the way he has settled in now. It's not so awkward.

"Maybe Grace was right about you," you say, taking a sip of your water.

"Oh, you think so... hmmm, interesting….why did you leave your last partner?" He said, sitting back in the chair with his fingers locked together.

“He uhhhh…..he was a sadist….I left him because he burnt me pretty bad" it was such a long time again, yet it felt like yesterday.

"How severe?" He sounded a little too intrigued.

"Like I have terrible scars on my back."

"So fire is a definite limit for you, then?" He was, of course, trying to get your limits out without triggering you.

"Yes, absolutely", you smile as you begin to warm up to the idea of having Chris as your master.

"Noted," he said, folding his arms, "had he ever spoken to you about being into sadism?"

"No, not at all. I would have never agreed to play…he started off sweet. Still, the more we continued our relationship, the more he became obsessed with sadism play."

"I'm sorry he did that to you," Chris said, reaching for your hand. "But if you choose to be with me…I will never put you in that position." He looked deeply into your eyes.

"But it's your turn…why did you leave your last partner?"

"She left me...there were just certain things I could not overcome what she wanted from me...so we thought it would be best if she left" this worried you a bit, so you dug deeper. "Basically….I wasn't firm enough for her" he became nervous again, pulling his hand away from yours, and right as he did, the food was being served.

"Excuse me, sir…do you think you could just place both meals in the middle" again, you smile sweetly at him while he agrees, setting the stake and lobster into the middle of the table.

"Thank you so much. I appreciate it" he gave you a smile as he turned around and walked the opposite way.

"Here, allow me," you say, taking a lobster tail off the plate and placing it on the side of the stake. You cut the stake in half, the other half moving to the lobster plate. Then, put lobster tails on the half stake and pour your lobster sauce on top. Once you have completed the meal, you serve the dish to Chris, who is mesmerised by your actions.

As Chris snaps out of his daze, you chuckle, "I believe they call it surf and turf."

"Thank you. I'm going, to be honest with you right now….I would really like to offer you a contract."

CHAN POV

"Chan, come on, you have to get over Vanessa," Changbin said as he flopped down on the studio couch.

"I am over her", I scoffed.

"Well, what's the big deal about going on this date?" Changbinin shuffled to the side of the couch.

"I'm nervous, bro… what if she doesn't like me…she doesn't even know it's a date," he said, packing up his headphones.

Changbin was looking at me with a confused look on his face.

"It's someone Grace set me up with," I said, not wanting to get too deep into it.

"Oh, your hot friend Grace," he said with a smile. If only he knew what she looked like, she would eat him alive. "When are you planning to hook me up with her?" he continued.

"I'm not… you're not her type" I mean, I wasn't lying. She liked women.

"You just want her all to yourself," he said, looking down.

"Anyway," I replied, looking at him, "what should I wear? It's a really fancy restaurant."

"Your black suit is stylish."

……

This leads me to "I would really like to offer you a contract" shit, Chan, why are you like this? She just met you, and you are already making a fool of yourself. I couldn't avoid the advice about the stained shirt because she shared her food with me. If I don't take this opportunity now, I'll never meet another sub like her again.

"I'm flattered…but don't you think you should get to know me a bit better first?" again, tucking her loose hair behind her ear.

"I'll be right back." I knew Vanessa always kept hair ties in my car. After a short walk to my car, I found them in the glove compartment. "Perfect," I say, locking my door and returning to the restaurant.

"Here, please….take this hair tie." I could see her eyes light up.

"Oh wow, thank you…I umm forgot to bring mine," she smiled awkwardly.

"My ummm… my ex used to keep them in the car. I forgot they were there until you started struggling with your hair." I smiled, cutting into the stake.

"Well, thank you", she said, doing the same.

She ties up her hair. God, she looks so beautiful with her hair in a ponytail. "I like you with your hair up." I started to blush as she smiled at my compliment.

……

I looked down at my watch and realised it was getting late.

"Well, Chris….I should get going" she reached over and grabbed my hand.

"I'll walk you to the car" I paid for the bill on the way out, walking beside her as I escorted her to her car parked around the corner from the restaurant.

"Thank you for tonight….I assume Grace gave you my number" she laughed as she knew Grace well.

"Yeah, she...textted it to me at dinner", I laughed.

“Well…call me please… I'd love to discuss your proposal" did I hear that correctly, or did she just say she wanted to discuss a contract with me?

I wanted to show her what it would be like to be with me. I tried to kiss her so desperately. However, I was mindful that it might scare her off.

"You can kiss me, Chris", she smiled, placing her hand on my chest. I lift her chin so her eyes meet mine. I move my lips in, now hovering over hers "I will when you sign that contract missy"

Y/N POV

You couldn't believe it, but Grace was right. He was indeed a suitable fit for you. You smile to yourself as he walks off to his car.

Ting Ting

Unknown number

"Meet me at my office on Monday at 9am (address included)....we will discuss the contract terms then - Master."

Y/N

"Yes, sir, I look forward to it."

………

Sunday morning

You wake up to someone banging on your door. "Jesus Christ", you say as you get up and open the door.

"Oh good, you are up," Grace said, walking in. "How did the date turn out with Chris? Isn't he delicious?"

"He is nice", you smile at her as she lets herself into your apartment ", but he's an absolute mess" you continue walking over to take a seat on the couch.

"Look, I know Chan....he was nervous….he is a very sought-after dom in the community….he doesn't look for many submissives.... if he's offering you a contract, I'd be taking it," she said, plonking herself down on the couch.

"What makes him so special?"

"Excuse me….he is the perfect dom…as far as soft pleasure doms go, he's one of the best."

Suddenly, you ask yourself, "Wait, he's a pleasure dom?". It is difficult to come by pleasure doms in the community these days. It is no wonder that he is in such high demand.

"Oh, big time…he hasn't had a sub for over eight months…. I've never seen him so nervous about meeting someone….he must really like you…. When does he want you to discuss the details?"

"Tomorrow," you said, turning towards her. Suddenly you feel nervous. What if you can't please him like he wants.

"Shit, he's working quickly," she said, shocked. "Look, no one knows Chan like me…he wouldn't just ask a girl he met to sign a contract."

"Well? What should I do, Grace?"

"Listen to me….hear him out, okay…do you trust me?" She said, lifting your chin up.

"Yes," you reply, staring into her eyes.

"Good girl," she said seductively.

………

Monday

"Why am I so nervous?" you asked, looking at yourself in the mirror while you curled your hair.

"Okay, Y/N…. You've done this before…just strike out what you're not comfortable with," you talk to yourself as you grab your handbag, ready to exit your apartment.

I walked out of the building, and in front of a black Range Rover was Chris. "Oh good….I was afraid you wouldn't show up", you chuckled.

"So you came to pick me up?" You said, walking over to him.

Chris stepped to the side and opened the car door "after you." What the hell did this man do? He had his own driver.

Sitting in the car with Chris was awkward until he reached over and grabbed your hand, locking his fingers with yours. "You don't have to be a nervous baby girl."

"I can't help it," you said, shaking your legs.

"Spot that," he said sternly, looking directly forward.

As soon as you see Chris, you sit still, looking forward, not speaking for the rest of the drive to his office. "Jyp entertainment," you said, looking surprised.

He chuckled as he opened the door, hopping out.

"Here, allow me to help," he said, extending his hand out to help you.

He locks his fingers with yours and leads you into the building. "I've booked a meeting room for us," he smiled. On the other hand, he had a briefcase. "This way," he smiled, leading you to the elevator.

The doors open, and you step in with him, his hand sliding along your lower back. God, his touch feels so comforting.

You both go up to the 10th floor, and he walks you to the meeting room. You sit as he pours you a cup of water. "Sit....have some water", he commands.

"You're not my dom yet, Chris…..I don't have to listen to you," you say cheekily.

He leans in so he's inches away from your face. "Do you want to repeat that?" He whispered in your ear.

You take a sip of water to appease him. "That's my good girl," he says, placing a soft kiss below your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.

"Okay…now shall we get started?" he said, sitting down next to you and opening his briefcase.

He pulled out two contracts. "Let's start with the limits." He says, handing one to you and flicking it open in front of him. "I took the liberty of striking out fire."

"Okay, also animal and age play…strike that out," you say as he glances up at you. "Also put in here…I will not refer to you as anything other than Chan, Chris, Master or Sir."

"Okay yeah, that works for me", he smiles. "Sooooo noooo", and he raises an eyebrow at you.

"No use of the word Daddy", you frown.

"Okay, okay, that's fine with me," he says, putting both hands up.

"What is this down here….am I meant to move in with you?" You say, leaning closer to the paper.

"Oh, uhhhh only if you want to," he says, going to strike it out before he can. You grab his hand a squeeze.

"How about we start with just weekends, okay….besides, I have to work," you grin. Chris looked happy with you making the decision.

……

As time passed and you read deeper into the contract, you became more at ease. Chris read had thought of everything. "How long have you been a master?" You say, trying to spark up a conversation.

"5 years now", he smiles over at you "before that, I was a sub", he looks back down.

"Oh, okay what made you change?"

"My dom….she made me want to become just like her…she was smart, beautiful but had a wicked temper", he chuckled.

"Is that what I can expect out of you?" You pressed your legs together tightly as you got excited about his answer.

"I try my best to be fair….but I will warn you to know…I only give one chance for things before I punish….and I don't take chat back lightly," he smiles. He can tell from your behaviour that you have a bratty side.

"Oh really?….hmmmmm….have you ever tamed a brat before," you say seductively.

"I have…. don't think just because I'm a soft dom, I'll let your attitude slide," he says, still flicking through the contract.

"I wouldn't dream of it, sir" Chris pauses at your use of the word Sir. "I would love to view your house before I sign the contract."

"Of course…do you have time right now?" He said, gripping the paper.

"I actually need to go to work", you smiled. Very convenient timing.

"Perfect, I'll drop you off" this shocked you because, well, you worked at a sex shop and didn't really want him to find out this way.

He escorts you down to the car, opening it and letting you get in first. You give the driver the address, and Chris's eyes widen. "You mean the sex shop on the corner?"

"Yeah, is that a problem?" You giggle at his response.

"Nope….not at all" you could tell he was trying to play it cool.

Your work is about 20 minutes away. You pull up outside the shop, and Chris undies his seatbelt. "What are you doing?" You say, panicking.

"I'm coming in….I want to see….might get some stuff for later when I pick you up."

"Don't you dare" Chris shoots you a look, and you sit back quietly in your seat.

"Let's go," he says, getting out and offering you his hand.

"Fine," you say, rolling your eyes as you hop out of the car.

CHAN POV

"Did she just roll her eyes at me?" I thought to myself. "Careful, Channie.... she's not yours just yet", I repeat as I walk with her to the shop. I would love nothing more than to punish her for how disrespectful she is now, but that will have to wait.

As she walks towards the store, I grab her hand, locking my fingers with hers. She stops for a moment, and then she starts to lead me inside the store. "Good morning, Noah," she says as she enters the store. I glance over at Noah, who is a rather attractive young man. He has long blond hair and bright blue eyes.

"Morning Y/N…. Who's this?" He says, extending his hand to me.

I share it making sure I grip a bit tighter than I usually would.

"This is my friend Chris" she smiles up at me.

Is that all she sees me as a friend? I would love nothing more than to show her what kind of "friend" I am. Y/N walks behind the counter and places her bag under the counter.

She walks back to me "okay, you can leave now" using my index finger, I pull her chin up, "ill pick you up at 5" I lean in and kiss her soft, plump lips. I smile as I pull back. I glance over at Noah, who is in shock.

I walk out of the store and back to the car, "that will show him….. she's all mine," I say to myself as I sit back in the car. "Okay, could we go back to the company," I say, opening my phone.

A/N : thank you all soo much for reading😁 any like reblog or comment is muchly appreciated

Taglist: @9900z @armystay89 @nightrayseishina @jisungiexx

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crepesuzette2023 · 1 year

Text

“To the best of our ability Paul!”: The Paperback Writer session [and fashion show]

By Johnny Dean. From: The Beatles Book Monthly, Issue 35. June 1966.

As we walked down the corridor towards E.M.I.’s No. 2 studio (where else would one go when sitting-in on a Beatles recording session), the commissionaire pointed out to us that the boys were in No. 3 instead. So we made our way back to the front of the building and as we approached the studio door, the red light went on—which meant that they were recording. So we waited for them to finish. Three minutes later we walked in.

On entering the studio, we found John and Paul surrounded by a mass of equipment—most significant of all, were their new massive amplifiers. Paul was clad in his distinctive casual recording gear of black trousers, black moccasin-type shoes, white shirt with fawn stripes, a black sleeveless pullover and to top it all orange—tinted specs. John sported green velvet trousers, a blue buttoned up wool vest and black suede boots.

The basic track of "Paperback Writer" had been recorded the previous day, and now John and Paul were working out a detailed backing. Paul was perched on a stool thumbing away at a red and white Rickenbacker guitar, (moving with the music as he does on stage) whilst the Iyrics boomed through the studio speakers—so we were very honoured at being the first to hear their new single besides George Martin and of course, the Beatles.

We then spotted Ringo's head behind the screen in the far corner—he was playing chess with Neil. So we walked over. "Who's winning?", I asked. "Neil's the expert”, Ringo replied, and went back to the chess board to concentrate on how to get his king out of danger from an attack by Neil's bishop and castle.

The music stopped. George Martin came into the studio from the control room to have a tete-a-tete with Paul as to what they could do to improve the backing.

"What are you trying to do with this one?", I asked Paul. "Have you heard the lyrics?", came the reply. "Yes, I think it's very unusual”. "The trouble is", said Paul,"That we've done everything we can with four people, so it's always a problem to ring the changes and make it sound different. That's why we have got all these guitars and equipment here." That must have been the understatement of the year, because the studio was littered with pianos, grand pianos, amplifiers, guitars, percussion instruments, and other odd bits and pieces which were strewn over the studio floor.

The studio was sectioned-off with brown canvas screens and what seemed like thousands of black cables running from the amps and other electrical equipment to the control room over the heavily marked wooden floor. To stop the echo, E.M.I. have covered some of the floor with old carpets.

The big heavy sound-proof door which stops any of the noise of the outside world seeping into the studio, burst open, and in strolled George looking very elegant in his Mongolian lamb fur coat with black cap and oblong metal specs.

He was obviously on top of the world and bubbling over with enthusiasm, ready to record a dozen numbers. He threw his coat along side Paul's fur jacket and got down to work out the backing with John and Paul.

John, George and George Martin huddled round Paul, who was seated at the piano trying to work out a bass bit, before asking George Martin to play it. John leaned on the piano while he listened to Paul's ideas for a while. Then he picked up his orange Gretsch guitar and proceeded to pick away at it. At the same time Paul transferred to a Vox organ.

Although John and Paul were both working on the song together, it was originally Paul's idea. He asked the engineer to play it back at half speed so that John and George could do some vocal bits.

They were now all set to go. George Martin gave the O.K. The recording light went on and the basic sound track was played back through the "cans" they each had clamped over their heads. They did several takes. John and George hit some very high notes, but their voices kept cracking. "I don't think I can make it" said George, "unless I have a cup of tea. Where’s Mal?”

Right on cue at the end of the fourth take Mal emerged into the studio laden with tea, biscuits and something very special—toast and strawberry jam. Everything was immediately dropped and a sudden swoop was made on the toast and jam. Ringo, who was still in the corner trying to work out his next move, only got one piece of toast, so Mal offered to make another batch as it had proved so popular.

Meanwhile Beatles Book photographer Leslie Bryce was clicking away.

After the toast and jam had been devoured it was back to work. Paul suddenly got an inspiration he dived across to the piano and started playing bits of "Free Jacques" he was highly delighted at the thought of having it in the new single.

"O.K. let's try it", said George Martin. So John and George gathered round the mike and off they went. But it was a false start. Paul's head appeared over the top of the piano and he queried "Did you come in at the right place?". "We can't hear it properly" , said John, "anyway I thought that was the end of it.” George promptly told him it was the beginning!

After they had finished taping these bits, the tracks were played back into the studio while everyone listened in silence. George Martin was the first to speak-"I think that the best thing we've added are the 'Frere Jacques’ bits. Ringo who had finally beaten Neil at a game of chess by check-mating him in several brilliant moves involving a queen, a bishop and a castle, said that he thought John and Paul sounded as though they were singing through water! Highly uncomplimentary, so Paul then made for the organ once again and started to work out a sound which resembled that of Scottish bag pipes.

John then came swooping across the studio and shouted out—“You've got it. You've got it". Paul then started dum-dee-dumming away at everyone else—it was just like a scene from "My Fair Lady”!

George Martin appeared over John's shoulder and said "I see what you mean”. Paul announced that someone else should play it—meaning George Martin. John and George then went back to their mikes and added the vocals over the top.

After the first track Paul looked over the top of the piano and asked John and George if they were singing it right.

George turned round, lowered his glasses to the tip of his nose and looked down at Paul in a typical school-masterish fashion and said "To the best of our ability Paul!" And so the boys went on getting the sound that you will hear on "Paperback Writer”.

It was a long session. It took something like ten hours to record because the Beatles insisted on sticking at it until they were completely satisfied that they can do no more.

When you listen to "Paperback Writer" bear in mind what went on beforehand to achieve this really great sound, and I'm sure you'll appreciate it all the more.

"The very first shot of Paul we took when we arrived in the studio." (Photo by Leslie Bryce)

"Paul's hit on something. Waving his 'ciggie' he dee-dums his way through the bit he's just thought up while George sings with him." (Photo by Leslie Bryce)

Ringo's chess pieces and John's green velvet trousers. (Photos by Leslie Bryce)

#the beatles #george martin #paul mccartney #john lennon #george harrison #ringo starr #mal evans #paperback writer #lots to unpack #lots to unzip #George had so much more fun here than in Get Back #Paul and George Martin comma huddling #amazing creative energy #ten hours

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crossary · 1 year

Text

something I made up in my mind.

Muzan x Female! Reader

- - - - - ☆

Soft footsteps could be heard echoing throughout the vast and desolate street. It was a rainy day. Usually you'd enjoy it, but today something told you to not, so you didn't do your thing. You didn't play in the rain like you used to do. You were grown up now, and nothing could change that fact.

Suddenly, you turn around to see a man. A man with a white trench coat. He seemed to be holding an umbrella over him. When you looked at his umbrella, he gave you a perplexed look. "I couldn't help but to see you walking in the rain. Let me help you. I can't stand seeing such a pretty being getting drenched in the rain. Don't worry, it will hold the two of us." The man says.

When you saw him light a small little cigar, you could see his face clearly. Pale skin, beautiful black hair, plum red eyes with slits for pupils. Like a cat, you thought. His complexion was very pretty, and to you it looked perfect. Absolutely beautiful.

You nod as the two of you were now walking in the rain. You knew demons existed. In fact, you're even training to become a Hashira at the moment, so it completely shocked you that you needed help...from a demon. You knew that such Demon King exists, and here you two are. Walking side by side under the rain. Although...no one told you of his name.

"I'm intrigued. You haven't landed an attack on me yet. Why's that?" The person asked. "I will not answer for those who will not speak their name." You said, obviously uninterested by this conversation. He narrowed his eyes before clearing his throat. "I don't know if you know who you're dealing with, Demon Slayer. I am Muzan Kibutsuji, the original and the first ever demon to set foot on this disgusting planet." Muzan said. You kind of narrowed your eyes at him too. Tension grew with the both of you and you knew something — You did not like the tension.

"Y/N L/N" You said calmly. "The reason as to why I have not attacked you yet? You'll have to find that out yourself. I do not give answers so easily. I make people work to get the answer they so helplessly desire." You said in a cold manner. He was quite intrigued by how you sound. By how you word things. "You intrigue me, Human." Muzan said with a hint of interest. "Oh please that's what everyone says." You say, dismissing that comment he made.

"It's always 'Oh my god you intrigued me!' 'Lets be friends cause you're different!' 'Surprising act from you' but people just don't look at me in the inside." You say. "Interesting. And what do you say about humanity? Is it pulling at your very core? Is it draining the life out of you? Don't you wish for that draining to stop?" Muzan chimed. He seemed a little too manipulative. Easy giveaway.

"Sorry but you should try harder to cover your manipulative side." You say, smirking at him. You then put a hand under his chin. "I'll think about it." And with that, your hand fell from under his chin. You turned and faintly smiled before walking into the rain. It wasn't raining as much now, but it was still pretty bad. Muzan watched you leave. Watched you depart from under the umbrella. He touched his chin lightly and he didn't know why, but he felt a tiny blush spread on his face. Muzan thought about it before chuckling to himself.

"Till' we meet again, Y/N."

- 𝐿𝑜𝑛𝑔𝑎𝑛 ✩

#demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #muzan kibutsuji #muzan x reader #kny muzan #demon slayer muzan #anime #x reader #kny x reader

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tortillamastersblog · 5 days

Text

꧁ Angels Don’t Cry - Part 3 | Mor ꧂

Pairing: Mor x reader

Warnings: Mentions of torture, injuries, blood, kidnapping, vomiting and explicit language

Summary: After Hybern’s defeat, the Inner Circle makes a grave discovery in the late King’s dungeons. . .

Masterlist

________________________________________________

The bell above the bakery’s entrance door chimes, signaling a customer has entered the shop, so I put down the piping bag I was just using and take off my apron. “I’ll be right with you, one second please.”

We’re about to close and I’m the only one left in the shop after today’s busy day.

I hand my apron on the hook on the wall and make sure my hands are clean before making my way to the front of the shop where the display area is.

“Good evening,” I say , not really looking at the customer as I make sure the cash register is closed. “How can I help you?”

There’s no reply, so I stop sweeping some crumbs off the countertop and look up with a frown.

Standing there dressed in a thick black coat and a bright red scarf is Mor. Her nose and cheeks are pink from the cold outside and her hair is hidden beneath a wool hat that matches her scarf in color.

“Uhm. . . Hi, what can I get for you?” I ask again, straightening up and ruffling my wings slightly.

Since our fight and moving into my own apartment I haven’t seen her and I can honestly say that I haven’t missed her much. However, now that she’s standing in front of me my heart happily skips a beat and I curse my body for reacting like this every time she’s around.

She insulted me and hurt me to no end and I should be mad at her, but when I look at her all I feel is this emptiness in the pit of my stomach.

“H-Hi,” she stutters timidly which takes me by surprise.

I’ve never heard her stutter before. This is Mor, the Morrigan who fought in the war and slayed more enemies than I can even imagine, and yet her she is, stumbling over her words like a common fool.

She watches me warily for a reaction and when I don’t give her one, she averts her eyes to the display case in front of her. “I. . . Could I-uh-please get a slice of. . . that chocolate-strawberry tart?”

I nod wordlessly and grab the tart from the case. I set it on the counter and take one of the slices and put it into a small cardboard box before putting the rest of the tart back.

“Anything else?” I ask, hyper aware of the brown eyes following my every move. I close the box with a couple of practiced folds before looking back up.

Once again, Mor is quick to avert her eyes. I notice how she tugs and pulls at her own fingers in front of her, but don’t comment on it.

It is unusual for someone of her status to go out and buy her own food, which is why I was surprised to see her here in the first place, but as the seconds go by and she still doesn’t order anything else it becomes abundantly clear that she didn’t come her for the baked goods.

“Y/N. . .”

There it is again, that tug on my insides. I clench my teeth and will the feeling to go away.

I stare at her expectantly, but other than my name nothing else comes out of her mouth. Outside, the snow whips through the lit streets and people scramble to get inside.

“Anything else?” I ask again, only this time I’m aware of the double meaning of it.

Mor gulps which inadvertently draws my attention to her half-covered throat. “I. . . No, that’s it.”

I nod curtly and go to the register to ring up her order. “That’ll be 3.99 then.”

She fishes around in her pocket, another sign that she didn’t come in here with the intention of buying anything before pulling out some change and handing it to me.

I go to count it because it’s definitely too much, but she quickly tells me to keep the change before grabbing the cardboard box.

Then, she’s gone without another word which makes me frown in confusion.

“What in the Cauldron’s name was that?” I whisper to myself before going back into the back of the shop where I finish decorating the cake I was working on.

“You’re here!” Feyre exclaims. She ushers me into the Town House before pulling me into a bone-crushing hug.

I laugh and hug her back, dropping the bag of gifts I brought with me. I did manage to find a gift for everyone after all, including Mor and Cassian. It’s Winter Solstice after all, and even though I don’t plan on interacting with either of them too much tonight, I thought getting each of them a gift as well would be the polite thing to do.

“Well, I said I’d be here, didn’t I?” I teased which makes Feyre punch me gently after breaking our hug. I laugh and take off my jacket, hanging it next to the door.

“Everyone else is already here and they’ve all had quite a bit to drink already, so get ready for that,” she warns which makes me chuckle as I pick up my bag of gifts again.

“It’s nothing I’ve not seen before, so lead the way,” I say just as a drunken shout from one of the guys echoes down the hallway.

Feyre laughs and I follow her into the living room with a small smile on my face. There, sprawled out on all the couches and high-backed chairs is everyone, including Lucien whom I haven’t seen in quite a while.

At first, no one notices our arrival, but then Azriel’s eyes land on me and he beams as he gets to his feet. “Hi!”

Before I know it I’m pulled into a hug and I freeze, not knowing what to do. He’s never hugged me before, not this carefree at least, but I quickly get over myself and hug him back.

“Hello, you look nice,” I compliment with a smirk when he pulls back. He’s wearing a dark shirt I helped him pick out the other day and a pair of slim dress pants.

It’s not too different from what I’m wearing apart from the jewelry. While he’s wearing a thin silver chain around his neck, I’m only wearing a simple golden ring on my left middle finger.

He got it for me when we went shopping the other day and I’ve not taken it off ever since. It has our mother’s name engraved on it on the inside and when I saw it the first time I teared up.

Azriel smiles crookedly, the effect of the alcohol he’s already consumed glaringly obvious. “You don’t look too bad either.”

I scoff and shove him away just in time to embrace Elain in a hug. She’s wearing a dress similar in shape to Feyre’s, but while her sister dress is a midnight blue covered in glittering gems, hers is a simple dark green.

Rhysand is next to greet me with a polite hug and a squeeze to my shoulder. “I’m happy you came. Make yourself at home, please.”

I thank him with a polite nod and smile at Amren and Nesta who simply lift their hands in greeting from their position on the couch.

“Y/N?” Cassian’s deep voice behind me makes me turn around. He’s holding out a glass of wine, smiling hesitantly and even though we’re far from being on good terms again, I accept his peace offering and thank him quietly.

It’s going to take some time to trust him again, but he’s been making an effort ever since what happened. He keeps apologizing and even helped me build some of my furniture.

Lucien shakes my hand with a polite smile and jokes about the size of my gift bag which makes my lips twitch. I can see why Feyre likes him and if it weren’t for the incessant tug on my insides I would even consider him attractive.

The last of the bunch to greet me is Mor who jumped to her feet the moment Feyre and I entered the room. She stayed back however and waited for everyone to greet me before slowly making her way over.

Cassian and Azriel are on one of the couches now, shoving each other around and fighting over another bottle of wine. Nesta, Elain and Amren are on the other couch, chatting with Lucien who’s standing by the fireplace and Feyre and Rhysand are on the armchair.

While the two of them seem to be in a conversation of their own, I can see Feyre warily glancing in my direction every so often as Mor makes her way to me.

Raising an eyebrow, she silently asks whether I’m okay with what’s happening and I nod subtly before taking a sip of wine and turning my attention to the blonde who’s now next to me.

“You look nice tonight,” she states softly, keeping her eyes on the wineglass in her hand.

It seems as though she’s not out for another fight, so I sigh and say, “So do you.”

And it’s true. She looks nice tonight, beautiful, really, but I’m not going to say that to her face. She’s wearing a long, one-shoulder, a-line dress that matches her maroon lipstick and her blonde hair is in a high ponytail. It reveals her smooth neck and shoulders, the sight of which makes me swallow thickly before looking away.

“Thank you.” She looks up and smiles tentatively. “I. . . I really liked your tart.”

“Huh?” I raise my eyebrows and take another sip of my wine.

“The chocolate-strawberry tart,” she elaborates quietly. “It was delicious.”

“Oh.” I almost forgot about that. Her coming into the shop was awkward, so I wasn’t expecting her to bring it up. “Right. . . I’m glad you liked it.”

Mor smiles once more, a quick lift of the corner of her lips, before she averts her eyes again.

Silence settles around us and I direct my attention to Azriel and Cassian who are now full on wrestling on the ground.

“I told you I’m stronger,” Cassian grunts as he pins Azriels to the ground.

“Maybe, but can you do this?” Azriel counters before vanishing in a cloud of shadows only to return a second later, this time on top of Cassian who is now pinned to the floor, face down.

“That’s cheating!” The general whines which makes everyone laugh.

I chuckle quietly as well, but then Mor’s shoulder brushes against my arm and I freeze. I keep my eyes on Azriel and swallow thickly, but don’t pull away.

“Y/N?” Her brown eyes bore into the side of my head, but I keep my eyes trained on Azriel who is now being pulled off his brother by Rhysand.

“Y/N?” Mor tries again, but I don’t react. As much as her shoulder brushing against me sends sparks through me, I can’t forget what she said to me.

I bet you really are a filthy spy. . . I bet Feyre would hate to know that you’re defiling her sister. . .

Tensing, I take a step away from her and clear my throat.

Feyre’s eyes are already on us and when she sees my discomfort, she gets to her feet and say, “Okay, everyone I think we should wrap this up in here. Dinner will be ready any minute now, so why don’t we head to the dining room.”

I thank her with a little nod and go to follow everyone filing out of the room only to be stopped by a tug on my sleeve.

“Wait, Y/N,” Mor pleads, her soft voice making my heart sink. “Can I talk to you for a second? Please?

I bet you really are a filthy spy. . .

I pull my arm out of her grasp and shake my head. I hate how much of an effect she has on me, especially in that dress, but I’m still hurt and I don’t want to talk to her because it will probably end in a fight again. “No. There’s nothing to talk about and dinner is ready, so we should go and join the others.”

I turn to leave again, but stop dead in my tracks when Mor blurts out, “I was scared, okay?”

“Excuse me?” I set down my glass of wine and cross my arms. We’re the only ones left in the room now and I know it’s only a matter of time before Feyre returns to rescue me from whatever this is.

“I was scared,” Mor says again, although this time it lacks confidence. “You asked me why I treated you the way I did a-and it’s because I was scared. I still am, actually. . .”

My wings twitch uncontrollably at all the emotions cursing through me. I’m still hurt, but now I’m also confused and intrigued. “You’re scared? Of what? Of me?”

“No!” She’s quick to shake her head. “Not of you. . . The day we found you in your cell—“

“Y/N? Mor?”

As if on cue, Feyre appears in the doorway with a raised eyebrow. Her eyes dart between me and the blonde before settling on me with a questioning look.

Are you okay? What’s happening? she asks against the shields in my mind.

I’m fine. Nothing’s happening, but thanks for the rescue.

Feyre dips her chin ever so slightly in acknowledgment and asks, “You guys coming, or what?“

Mor eyes me desperately, obviously wanting to continue our conversation, but I nod in Feyre’s direction and gesture for her to lead the way.

I am curious what Mor was going to say, but I’m not in the right headspace to stomach it all now, so I follow Feyre without sparing the blonde another glance.

Dinner went by without a hitch and if I’m honest it was quite pleasant, actually. I chatted with everyone, except Mor, and enjoyed the food.

Now I’m sitting on a bench in the garden, having snuck out a couple of minutes ago to escape the drunken idiots inside.

It’s cold, but Rhysand’s magic warms the space just enough to make sitting outside without a jacket bearable.

I can’t stop thinking about what Mor said about being scared and the fact that she explicitly told me she wasn’t scared of me. What else could she be scared of then? She’s the Morrigan for crying out loud and as far as I know the only thing she’s scared of, if you can even call it that, is her father.

“Things are getting pretty wild in there.”

I chuckle and turn to find Elain making her way toward me. Her cheeks are red from the alcohol she’s had, but her eyes are clear as she smiles at me. “Yeah?”

“Mhmm.” She takes a seat next to me and shuffles closer for a little warmth. “Amren and Cassian are doing shots and Rhysand and Feyre are sucking face in the middle of the living room.”

I snort and drape an arm over her shoulder when I notice the goosebumps on her skin. “Yikes. So I’m guessing it’s only a matter of time before something breaks, or someone gets hurt.”

Elain nods and rests her head on my shoulder. “Yeah. . . Hey, uh, can I ask you something?”

I watch a nearby rose sway in the breeze and nudge her gently. “Sure.”

She’s silent for a moment, contemplating her words. “Have you ever— I don’t know— had this feeling that something in your life was missing?”

I go to shake my head, but then something tugs on my insides and for the first time I recognize what it is. It’s longing. . . For what, I’m not sure, but it’s there and it’s strong. “I guess so, but why are you asking?“

Elain takes a deep breath and clasps her hands together. “I feel this emptiness in my chest sometimes, but then when I’m with all of you, it’s somehow better, but even then, it’s still not completely gone.”

I frown but stay silent until she adds, “It’s like this pull in the pit of my stomach and—“

“Pull?” I ask. “You mean like a tug?”

She nods, not bothered that I interrupted her. “Yeah, like a tug. . . and I don’t know what it means.”

I smile and squeeze her shoulder. “I know how you feel, I feel it too, sometimes, but I have yet to figure out what it means.”

Elain groans. “I hate this.”

I laugh and spread my wings as far as they’ll go before tucking them back in. “Welcome to the club. . .”

We sit in silence and enjoy the fresh sir for a couple more minutes before deciding to head back inside. When we re-enter the living room everything is as Elain described it.

Feyre and Rhysand are all over each other and Amren and Cassian are still doing shots by the fireplace, both of them being cheered on by Lucien and Nesta who are just as drunk.

The only one not participating in the fun is Mor who’s standing by the window with her back turned.

“Look who made it back!” Cassian howls, draping an arm over Elain’s shoulders. He doesn’t dare touch me, but he smiles drunkenly and points at me. “We thought you two might have gotten lost in the snow.”

Elain shrugs his arm off and clings to Nesta who tucks a strand of her sister’s hair behind her ear. “They’re not as daft as you can be, so I wasn’t worried,” Nesta shoots back with a menacing smirk which makes Cassian smile even more.

I smile at the scene, but the exhaustion that settled in the pit of my stomach earlier catches up to me and makes me yawn.

I was supposed to stay the night in one of the house’s guest rooms, but the thought of sharing a bed with Azriel when he’s drunk makes my skin crawl, so I slowly slip out of the room unnoticed and make my way home after putting on my coat.

I’m not too worried about leaving without saying goodbye because come morning no one will even remember it especially when I return in time for breakfast and opening presents.

________________________________________________

#x reader #morrigan x reader #mor x reader #mor acotar #acotar #light angst

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heavenlyakin · 10 months

Text

Part 3: I Took All My Things

Summary: Your life is forever changed when your most trusted advisor arrives home with an engagement treaty. As Queen of your Kingdom, you knew there would be sacrifices but little did you know how much the cost of these sacrifices would be. What do you do when your mind wants one thing but your heart longs for another?

Characters: Reader (some descriptions apply), Ella and Bella ( oc chambermaids), Suguru Geto, Camilla (oc advisor), Sebastian (oc butler), and finally the arrival of Satoru Gojo

Warnings: none

Length: 1.6k

Navigation | Prev Chapter | Next Chapter

“Do you think this is a little much?” You ask Bella, one of your chambermaids, as she does your hair. She’s pulling the red strands up into an updo with pearled pins.

“It matches your dress,” she says, not giving an opinion but rather a statement.

Your dress is a cream underskirt with gold lacing on top and pearls adorned all over the skirt and bodice. Your breasts are pushed up so high you’re worried they’ll pop out if you move too suddenly. You giggle at the thought, the scandal that would cause.

“Are you excited to meet King Gojo?” Ella, Bella’s twin, asks you.

“I met him once before,” you say, not really sure yourself. “That was long ago, though.”

“I’ve heard he’s to die for gorgeous.” Ella smiles, bringing Bella more pins for your hair.

“Ella,” you scold, trying to keep from laughing. “Maybe you’ll catch his eye.”

“Since you banned the color red, I doubt that.” Bella teases you and her sister.

You laugh this time, letting the nerves take over. Your fingernails are in disarray from the picking, and your ladies have given up on polishing them for the events. They’ve even called in specialists who claim to make fake nails that look as natural as real ones.

“I do wish the rain would stop,” Ella sighs, sitting on the chaise in front of the window of your dressing room.

“We all do,” you sigh with her. “Perhaps it’ll subdue soon.”

“Your Highness,” Suguru’s voice at the door perks your ears up.

“Is it time?” You ask, looking at his reflection in the mirror.

Suguru is dressed in a navy blue coat, gold trim, and lacing on the cuffs. His pants match, and the white shirt beneath looks good on him. His hair is tied back with it falling in long strands behind his back. ‘

“The scouts spotted his convoy a few miles out. We need to be there to greet him when he arrives.” He shifts his weight from one foot to the other. “It’s best we go now.”

You nod, and Bella and Ella exit through the servant's passages. Suguru takes your arm, walking with you to the hall and down the steps that lead to the front gates of the palace. In the foyer, many members of the court are dressed in their best, eager to see who could be their future King.

The front doors open, revealing the giant tents you had strung up so you and your guests would not be soaked to the bone by the rain. The ground has been covered with long rugs, to keep your shoes and feet dry. It must look ridiculous from afar, but once you’re under the tents it’s not so bad. There are decorations and plants, making it look more lively. The only annoying thing is the sound of the rain pounding down on the tents and the constant stream of water on the sides.

The sound of horns startles a few of your ladies in wait, their gossip stopping abruptly. You fold your hands in front of your gown, staring forward as Suguru and Camilla join you, one on each side. Camilla squeezes your arm once for reassurance then drops her hands to her side. You look over to see that she’s wearing a pink gown with white lace.

The sound of King Gojo’s convoy becomes louder than the rain, and within moments a grand black carriage arrives in front of the tents. A few guards trickle out, and then you see that infamous white hair.

King Satoru Gojo is adorned in a long white cloak, covering most of what he’s wearing underneath. The cloak itself looks warm, something you’re wishing you had in this dress despite its long sleeves. He smiles at you as he steps forward, his advisors and guards slowly making their way behind him.

He extends his hand, “Queen —--,” your last name sounds foreign to your ears.

“It’s a pleasure to officially meet, Kind Gojo.” You take his hand, shaking it and releasing it. He steps closer, and you have to look up to meet his eyes. He’s as tall as Suguru.

“Please, call me Satoru,” his smile is infectious. You can’t help but smile back at him.

“Shall we get out of the damp air and into the warm castle?” You suggest and he nods.

You lead him inside, speaking a few orders to the staff waiting at the door. They take his cloak from him, revealing the dark blue attire he wears beneath. The silk fabric looks soft, and comfortable to travel in, but well enough to wear to greet you.

“I can have my butler, Sebastian, show you to your chambers if you’re tired. However, I would suggest some tea to warm up before resting until tonight.” You suggest, folding your hands in front of you and politely smiling at Satoru.

He smirks, stepping closer to you, uncomfortably close for someone you don’t know. “Will you be joining me for tea?”

Your face heats up and you're concerned you’re blushing. “I have a few things to take care of. However, if you would like I can have my schedule rearranged.”

Behind Satoru, you see Suguru sigh and shake his head. The rest of your advisors are smiling beside him, Camilla particularly happily grinning at you. She nods and you look back at the King in front of you.

“I’d be flattered if you joined me.” He holds out his arm and you slip yours in with his.

It feels foreign to hold onto another man as you walk down the hall, followed only by a few guards, a mix of yours and his. As you walk, you tell him about the castle, some facts you’d share with any guest in your home. He comments on the art on the walls and you find it interesting that he’s actually interested in what you’re saying.

“Do you have a preference for tea?” You ask, sitting on one of the blue velvet chairs in the tea room.

“Sugar, and lots of it.” He admits with a grin. “I am fond of sweets.”

“As am I,” you tell him. “I will have some cookies and cakes brought up with the tea,” you tell him and look to Sebastian who nods before leaving the room.

Now it’s just the two of you, alone in the room. There’s a long silence, you looking down at your hands in the lap of your dress and King Gojo looking around the room. After a few more moments, you decide to break the silence.

“Did you-”

“Are you-”

You and him speak simultaneously. Both of you begin to laugh, sighing at the awkwardness.

“I was going to ask if your travels were well, despite the rain in my country.” He looks at you as you speak, his blue eyes something you find hard to look away from.

“It wasn’t terrible, just a bit cold.” He admits. “The rain doesn’t bother me usually, but I will say it must be exhausting having an onslaught of it for weeks.”

“Months,” you tell him. “Nearly three.”

“I see why you’ve been looking for treaties then, given the drought from last year.”

“It has been a tough year,” you admit. “I’m doing what I can to keep the people at ease.”

Sebastian appears with a few others who set the tea and treats down between the both of you. You thank them before dismissing everyone. The hot tea warms your body, allowing you some time to think about what else you can talk about with Satoru without sounding like a weak ruler.

You watch as Satoru pours you both a cup of tea, setting the pot down and dropping six sugar cubes into the cup. You smile, taking three for yourself. Perhaps your sweet tooth is nothing comparable to his.

“Have you considered my offer?” He asks, and you cough.

“I believe that should be handled between our advisors in council.”

He laughs, “You don’t have to say yes to me now or even no. I would just like to know if this trip will be in vain. You’re not the only one with something to lose or gain.”

“What could you have to lose if I rejected the amendment and decided to look elsewhere for help?”

He frowns, turning to look out the window. “This rain isn’t natural,” he suggests. “What is to say it won’t creep up on my borders or that your people decide to leave because of it, seeking refuge in my kingdom, stretching our supplies thin?”

You hadn’t considered that possibility. “I have been considering it. I just can’t say yes without meeting you officially and knowing what I’m getting into.”

“We have met,” he teases. “If I recall, you left crying.”

“I’m sure most girls would cry if a cruel prince pulled her hair.” You shoot back, making him laugh.

“I was an unruly teen,” he admits. “I hope I can show you that I have matured.” He sets his teacup down.

“I hope I will show you I am more than a whiny child.” You smile and stand. “I’ll see you tonight. Please don’t hesitate to ask any of my staff to show you around. Sebastian is at your disposal as well.”

He nods, and you leave the room. You clench and release your fists a few times, trying to ignore the racing of your heart. Nothing you discussed is remotely concerning, but you are curious about his concerns. You need to meet with your advisors about this.

You need Suguru.

#suguru geto x reader #geto suguru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #📜. somebody else

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dappledstars · 1 year

Text

✧ — in which the princess sneaks out to see the first snow fall, accompanied by her loyal bodyguard, of course.

✧ — fem!princess!reader x bodyguard!character

✧ — pairings: kabukimono

✧ — warnings: fluff, fluff, just pure wintertime fluff. with a side of hungry wolves. a little bit of angst. slightly ooc, i apologise.

KABUKIMONO was in a dilemma.

The princess was explicitly told not to enter the forest, especially near the time of the first snow fall, which was the hunting season for the wolves. It was his duty to their Royal Highnesses to keep her away from the woods, especially as his charge. But at the same time, how could he ever say no to your pleading face, big eyes and all?

When you clasped your hands around his and implored once more, the young man had to say yes. It was definitely worth the hug you gave him after. It was his duty to protect you, his charge, his princess. Yet it was also his duty to ensure your happiness. It was pretty clear to Kabukimono that your joy was his top priority. Even if it meant putting his job in jeopardy.

After all, as long as the King and Queen never found out, they would be safe.

He never realised how enthusiastic you would be about seeing the first snow fall.

Kabukimono called out your name. “Slow down a bit! You might trip on a root, milady.”

You flashed him a cheerful grin and slowed your pace, now walking alongside him. “Don’t worry, Kabuki. I’m super careful!”

And just at that moment you would’ve faceplanted right on the ground if it weren’t for Kabukimono catching your waist on time. He laughed as he helped you stand back up.

“Super careful, milady?” He grinned, though his cheeks were slightly flushed. You suspected it was due to the cold.

You rolled your eyes and rubbed your gloved hands together. “Shut up.”

You turned from him and continued walking, hugging your arms around your body. It was getting colder by the minute… surely the snow would fall soon? Kabukimono jogged to keep up with your pace.

“If I may ask, where are we heading, milady?” He gave you a curious glance, his violet eyes sparkling.

You grinned at the question. “Just roaming around. Say, aren’t you cold, Kabuki?” You say gently, gesturing to his clothing. While you were coated in layers and layers of fur, the young man was simply wearing his black uniform.

He chuckled. “I’m fine, milady. Ah, what are you doing…?”

You had busied yourself with peeling off one of your fur jackets. You tiptoed, trying to drape the material over his shoulders. “It’s a bit small… but it should keep you warm.” You mused, adjusting the jacket.

Kabukimono flushed at your nearness. “I-I’m fine, really, m-milady.”

You shook your head and took a step back, admiring your handiwork. “See, you’re stuttering and your cheeks are red, meaning you’re cold.”

“I-“ How would he explain that he wasn’t cold, but instead just… He didn’t even know how to explain it in the first place! His cheeks got redder with the embarrassment.

Almost immediately upon seeing this change, you frowned. “You just got redder.” Your face lit up with an idea. “If you’d like, I could give you a hug! That’ll get you warmer, right?”

His face lit up at the suggestion. A hug? Just because you were concerned he was apparently freezing to death? Kabukimono knew it was kind of bad to take advantage of this situation, but he just couldn’t help himself. He nodded, a little too eagerly.

He almost melted at your touch, feeling the warmth of your arms around him as you embraced him tightly. This felt like heaven. He looked down at you with a shy smile.

“Milady?”

“Hm?”

“The snow is falling.”

You looked up at his words, your eyes sparkling with childish delight. The snowflakes fell from the cloudy skies, shining in the sunlight. You smiled.

“Kabuki?”

“Yes, milady?”

“I’m glad you’re here.”

He blushed. Then he reached out his hand to gently brush off the snowflakes from your hair. You tensed at his movements. He was… near. You could see every detail of his handsome face. The slight pink on his cheek, the way his eyeliner was put on, the twinkle in his violet eyes, the curve of his lips. The way he smelled slightly of cinnamon. Then his eyes met yours.

“There’s one more right…” His fingers brushed by your lips. “…here.”

Your face flushed crimson. It felt like time had paused, just for the two of you. The snow continued to fall, coating the ground in white. Yet the two of you stayed in each other’s arms… for warmth, of course.

“Milady?” He spoke, his voice soft.

“Hm?”

“We have to head back.”

He was right. You looked at the setting sun, then back at him. You smiled, then pulled away from the embrace. You could’ve sworn there was a glint of disappointment in those eyes. Could it be…? Instead of dwelling on it, you gently caught his wrist.

“Thanks for doing this.”

He smiled and squeezed your hand softly. “Anytime, milady.”

You nudged him. “Just (Name) is fine, Kabuki.”

“(Name).” He repeats with a smile, that familiar blush returning to his cheeks.

You mirrored his expression. The sound of your name coming from his lips… it felt nice. You tugged his hand with a grin. “Let’s head back.”

He nodded. As the two of you walked, Kabukimono took note of many little things you did. The way you swung your arms slightly when you walked, the way your stride was confident and cheerful, the way you hummed Christmas carols — he found them all very cute.

“Hey, (Name)?” Wait, what was he doing…?

“Yes, Kabuki?”

He blushed slightly in spite of himself. He took a deep breath in. “Uh, well, I wanted to say—”

You stopped suddenly. “Kabuki.” You whispered his name frantically. The aforementioned male paused. The woods were quiet. Too quiet. Then a howl pierced through the silent night, followed by the pattering of footsteps.

“Kabuki—”

“Run.”

They took off. They had stayed too late, now the wolves were on the prowl. Kabukimono silently cursed himself. This was a mistake. The King and Queen would have his head on a stake if their princess came back injured. He’d probably kill himself first.

Kabukimono turned at the sound of a growl, too close for comfort. He unsheathed his sword. He turned to you, panic evident on his face. “Run, (Name), and don’t stop until you reach the castle.”

“I won’t leave you!” He expected you to run and leave him to die alone? Never.

He gritted his teeth. “Not the time to be stubborn, milady.”

The words ‘milady’ hit you hard. You shook your head once more. “No.”

A wolf jumped out of the snow-coated bushes, its amber eyes gleaming, its fur as black as night. The two of you backed away slowly. He turned to you once more, silently begging you to flee. You shook your head again, tears beginning to form in your eyes. You wouldn’t leave him.

The wolf pounced. Kabukimono’s sword swung, hitting flesh. The wolf whimpered, falling to the ground with a thud. Kabukimono breathed heavily, before quickly lifting you off the ground and taking off.

NO ONE noticed that the two of you were gone, much to your

relief. You and Kabukimono had successfully escaped the forest, evaded the palace guards, and made it to your room, perfectly unharmed and just a bit shaken. Well, mostly Kabukimono.

He shut the door behind the two of you with a sigh. Then he gently placed you back on your feet. He scanned your figure.

“You’re alright, milady? Nothing hurting, whatsoever?” He asked, his eyes brimming with concern.

You shook your head. A little knot twisted up inside your stomach hearing ‘milady’ once more.

“Why didn’t you run? You could’ve been badly hurt, for Celestia’s sake! If I got hurt, I’d be okay. You’re the princess!”

You flinched at the tone of his voice. He rarely raised it, especially with you.

“I couldn’t leave you there! If I made it back, and you didn’t, it’ll be my fault!” You sighed. “It’s my fault.”

Kabukimono hesitated. “Milady… you’re the princess. It wouldn’t be your fault.”

You shook your head. “I am the princess. My subjects’ wellbeing rests on my responsibility.”

He sighed. “It still wouldn’t be your fault. I was supposed to keep you safe.”

“And you did! I’m perfectly unharmed!”

“You had a run-in with a wolf!”

“I’m fine now, am I not?”

“Don’t be rash, princess.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, as if you were giving him a bad headache. He didn’t sound angry now. Just frustrated… and tired.

He turned to leave. “We’ll continue this tomorrow. Goodnight, princess.”

“Wait.” You caught his wrist. “Kabuki, I’m sorry.”

He turned and gave you a tired smile. “It still isn’t your fault.”

You chuckled, and met his eyes. A deep violet, beautiful. “Could you… could you stay?”

His eyes widened. “I really shouldn’t…”

“Kabuki, please. I… I want you here. With me.” You implored, your eyes shining slightly. “Please.”

Kabukimono ran a hand through his hair. You could see an internal debate in those eyes. He sighed, and met your own.

“(Name).”

Your face flushed as your breath caught. The way he said it, barely above a whisper. It felt like a winter breeze, gently brushing past you.

“Just this once, I’ll stay.”

✧ — 2023 ; dappledstars

✧ — word count: 2780

#✧ — writing #genshin impact #fantasy au #kabukimono x reader #princess!reader #bodyguard au #genshin impact x reader #oneshot #fluff

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amber-michaelson · 2 years

Text

A change of heart

Part 1

Barbarian Katsuki Bakugo x slave reader

Summary: after conquering more territory he decides to do a good deed

Read at own risk

Warning: none

the night was quiet to quiet “im going to check it out” my dad said kissing my forehead and left, that was the last thing he said to me before disappearing and he was the only family i had left.

“hurry up you filthy thing” the man shouted and whipped me, our village was raided the night my dad disappeared, all the men died protecting the village, the women and children were forced into labor “you’ll be lucky if ‘he’ even looks at you” he shouted, the ‘he’ was talking about is the prince and soon to be king of the barbarians katsuki bakugo and today hes going around to all the slave camps choosing slaves to join his concubine, the man moved onto the next poor girl i finished cleaning and dressing myself and praying for help.

“kneel before the prince” we obeyed not wanting another punishment we didn’t look up as we heard the sound of boots approach “to fat, to thin” the prince was voicing his opinions as he walked down the line of girls “to dirty” you could hear their pained whimpers as their dragged away after his judgement “to ugly” you could hear his voice getting clearer and clearer as he drew near, i looked to the side and froze, one of the girls looked up at him “you filthy pig” he spat “a peasant like you doesn’t deserve a glance at the soon to be king” he barked, i looked back at the ground and panted as he stepped infront of me he wasn’t saying anything “whats your name” he muttered but i didn’t answer “he asked you a question” i flinch from the yelling and expected a beating but it never came “i asked her not you” the prince muttered “im sorry your majesty” the man begged “if you ever lay a finger on another women, i will find you and kill you, we may be barbarians but we don’t hurt women” he growled “now leave” the man and his goons scurried out the room leaving me and the remaining girls alone with him “now are you going to answer me” he kneeled infront of me and grabbed my jaw forcing me to look at him “yn” i whispered “what was that” he stared into my eyes intently “yn” i murmured again, i was staring at the the red markings that framed his face and some peeking out from under his cape onto his chest and the black pants he was wearing were pulled down low showing of his v line “well yn i pick you” he said standing up, a few of his gold chains rattled against each other “i’ll be waiting outside” he muttered and left i held my breath ‘this couldn’t be real’ i started shaking as the girls picked me up and carried me to the shed were we slept “your so lucky” they all spoke ‘were all these girls deranged do they know who he is’ “here yn now go” they shoved my few belongings into my arms and ushered me out to where the prince was waiting with his 4 bodyguards “nice one bakubro” the one with red hair smirked as he held onto a spare horse “here sweetcheeks” he chuckled and gestured to the horse “you want me to ride” i asked “we’re not that mean girl” the girl smiled I hopped onto the horse "ready" the prince growled and all I did was nod, this man was bringing me out this terrible place and I should be grateful but I just can't.

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Arriving at the bar barbarians camp was the scariest thing everyone cat called and licked their lips staring at me but I was just to nervous to saying anything they all got off infront of a big tent which had 2 guards posted infront "follow me" the prince muttered as he hopped off his horse and made his way inside I quickly got off and followed in his guards that followed him went off to do their own thing just leaving me alone with him, I frozen inside the tent what am I supposed to do, my eyes wondered around the tent before landing on the prince as he shrugged of his coat falling to the floor his back was littered in scars and wounds "are you just gonna stare or are you actually gonna help me".

Part 2

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kirah69 · 2 years

Text

Touch Starved

The Sandman

Dreamling

Explicit

[Part 1]

There was a family of ducks enjoying the nice morning by the side of the river. Hob was just sitting on the grass, a couple of meters from them. He was sure he was in London, the way you just know some things in dreams, but when he looked at the other side of the river, he could see the Tour Eiffel over the low houses and a skyscraper that looked American. The architecture of the houses was a mix of different places, too. But he was sure he was in London.

Something at his right moved. Hob looked over and smiled instantly. His Stranger was coming closer. He was dressed in a black cloak that reached the ground disappearing in a mist. He seemed to float instead of walk. Hob thought about the Ghost of the Future, but he didn’t fear Death.

“My friend, I just saw you and now I’m dreaming with you. Some things don’t change,” he said fondly, getting up from the grass. Dream looked taller now. Maybe he was floating.

“I am real, Hob Gadling,” Dream said, sounding almost tired, like he had repeated the same a hundred times. “I am Dream of the Endless, Lord Morpheus, Oneiros, The Sandman, King of Dreams and Nightmares, Prince of Stories, The Shaper of Form. I have been known by many names through History and Worlds. The Dreaming is my Realm, I just had to step into your dream when you fell asleep.”

Hob looked at him open-mouthed. This was just a dream, wasn’t it? It couldn’t be real. It was something made up by his mind. It felt too real, though. A lucid dream, maybe?

Looking into those black, star-filled eyes, Hob couldn’t help but believe him.

“Okay. So… You’re a god or something?” he asked, going through his names in his mind. Of course he knew about Morpheus and Oneiros and The Sandman, all of them personifications of dreams. Dream, however, scoffed at his question.

“I’m more than a god. I don’t need humans’ belief to exist. I’m the anthropomorphic personification of dreams, I was here before this universe existed, and I’ll remain here until the end,” he said with pride, his head held tall. He certainly looked bigger.

“Uh-huh, okay, anthropomorphic personification of dreams, do you want more cuddles?” Hob asked, holding his arms open for him.

“You haven’t heard anything I said.” Dream looked a little affronted, but also confused by his mild reaction.

“I did, but it doesn’t change anything. You needed rest and a hug. I’m still offering that.”

Dream opened his mouth, but closed it again. His shoulders dropped, and he shrank to his usual size.

“You are an unbelievable creature, Hob Gadling,” Dream said with a soft voice.

He then held Hob’s face with both hands and leaned in. Hob couldn’t react before Dream’s lips were over his. Even then, it took him several seconds to react, but when he did, he surged forward and answered Dream’s kiss with all his soul. His Stranger’s plush lips were so soft, just as he had imagined (and he feared it was still his imagination; if that was the case, it would break his heart). Hob held onto him with both arms, hugging him tightly. Dream’s tongue touched his lips questioningly, and Hob opened his mouth for him. There was a low moan when their tongues touched, but he didn’t know from whom.

Hob startled when something fell on his head, and he looked up without pulling away.

“What.”

There were petals falling from the sky. Red petals, like those from a rose, and smaller light-pink ones. He gasped when he realized the sky was covered now in auroras the color of the rainbow.

“Is… is that me?” he asked, confused. He had never imagined something like that.

“It’s me,” Dream said, looking away a little embarrassed.

When Hob realized what it meant, he grinned from ear to ear.

“I’m honored to inspire that reaction in you.” He pulled Dream closer with the arm around his waist. “Truly beautiful.”

Dream’s expression relaxed, eyes half-lidded, and rested some of his weight against Hob. The mysterious cloak was so much thinner than the coat, and Hob could feel his slender body through it, all bones and sharp angles.

“Let’s see what other things I can inspire,” he said with a wink.

Dream’s eyes darkened, although that shouldn’t be possible, being black as they were. He stepped forward, sliding a leg between Hob’s, and Hob stumbled backward. They both fell, but not on the grass. They were on a plush, canopy bed with satin sheets and four wooden posts, something he remembered from long centuries ago. Dream looked at him with an arched eyebrow, and Hob only shrugged.

“I want to have you on a decent bed,” he said with a charming smile.

Dream sighed, and suddenly his cloak disappeared. Under it, he was dressed in a black, long-sleeved t-shirt and black trousers – both looked painted on his skin. Hob felt heat starting to pool in his belly. He switched their positions, hearing a little ‘huff’ from Dream, but he didn’t fight back. Hob knelt with one knee between his thighs, and leaned over him. Dream’s lips were parted, slightly pinker, waiting for him. Hob almost groaned when they kissed. The King (Lord, Endless, Prince) moaned into his mouth and threw his arms over his shoulders and a leg over his hip. Hob might be on top, but Dream had him trapped like a monkey, and he loved it. He didn’t stop kissing Dream – he didn’t dare, it felt so desperate, as if they were going to suffocate if they stopped kissing. Unconsciously, he started to move his body too. Hob pressed his hips against Dream, eliciting another moan from him. They were both hard already, but still trapped in their trousers, so they could only grind against each other. It was so hot and frustrating at the same time.

Dream yanked at his shirt, desperate to get his hands on skin, then it just disappeared – as if the arousal hadn’t allowed him to remember his powers for a moment. Hob smiled against his mouth as Dream’s hands cared his muscled back, passing over the knobs of his backbone, mapping every scar they encountered. It made him shiver, those long, thin fingers running over his body with such want.

He was going to cum in his pants like a teenager if they kept going like that. Hob slid a hand between their bodies and undid their trousers. There was nothing underneath, and Hob briefly thought if that was the magic of the Dreaming. But he didn’t have time to dwell on those things. He took their cocks in one hand, pressing the heads against each other, and twisted his hand over them, lubing it with their precum. They moaned in unison, and Dream arched his back and threw his head back. Hob buried his face in Dream’s neck and, despite being almost out of breath from their kissing, he started kissing, licking and sucking the taut tendons of his neck. He stroked their cock together, slowly but firmly. Everything felt so warm, the heat ran over their bodies, feeding their need, their desperation. Hob wanted so much more – he wouldn’t do anything Dream wasn’t ready for – he wanted to be inside him, to open him up on his cock and bury himself deep inside, fuck him until Dream came only with his cock.

“Yes, yes, please,” Dream begged, tightening his limbs around him.

“Shit. You heard that?” Of course he had, Dream was literally in his head.

“Hob!” Dream almost whined, and it was an order.

“Yes, love.”

He tried to pull down Dream’s trousers, but they just disappeared in his hands. Hob looked down at Dream’s pale, slender legs and noticed his own trousers had disappeared too, letting him completely naked. He didn’t mind even if Dream still had his shirt. He knelt between his legs, pulling them over his thighs, and summoned some lube over his fingers. Because why not, it was a dream. He was starting to assume everything was possible. He touched Dream’s hole, and the King shuddered, but didn’t pull away. For a moment it was so tight Hob thought they couldn’t do it, but then it opened for him, letting two fingers slide inside without any resistance.

“The Dreaming is wonderful,” he whispered and was too distracted to see the stars in Dream’s eyes flash with lust.

Hob scissored his fingers, making sure he was open enough, and pulled them out. He didn’t ask if Dream was sure, if he was ready, his legs were insistently trying to pull him closer with both legs around his hips. Hob pressed the head of his cock against his hole, and it slid inside slowly. Dream closed his eyes, his face slightly scrunched up as if in concentration. Hob was hypnotized looking at Dream, his slim body twitching against the dark sheets, his hair in disarray (more than usual), his long, slim cock, pink as a peach, dripping over his t-shirt. He had never had such a beautiful dream.

Hob only reacted when he finally bottomed out. The tight, warm walls hugged his cock, pulsing around it. He had to breathe deeply for a moment, trying to control himself or he would cum in the blink of an eye. His hands tightened around Dream’s hips with tension.

“Hob…” Dream breathed, reaching out to him.

Hob leaned in, hugging his King. Dream hugged him back, hiding his face into his messy hair. He was almost trembling, his breath a little ragged.

“Shh… It’s okay, love. Tell me if you want me to stop,” he said, stroking his back. He wasn’t in a hurry to move, it felt glorious just staying buried inside him.

“Don’t you dare,” Dream threatened with a trembling voice.

Hob hid a chuckle against his collar bone. He held himself on his forearms without pulling away from his chest and moved his legs to get some leverage. Like that, still laying over Dream, he started to move. He pulled out very slowly, feeling Dream’s cock rub against his belly with the movement. When he was half out, he thrust back inside, not as slowly but still with self-control. Dream sighed and encouraged him to keep going with a nudge of his legs. Hob fucked him in that sweet rhythm (so close to make love, but he didn’t dare to think about that), their bodies rubbing against each other. He was surprised when the t-shirt, the only thing separating them, disappeared. He didn’t comment on it, but it felt so much better. The contact of that warming, unblemished, pale skin was wonderful, just as the contrast with his tanned, hairy skin. Dream was so beautiful, so ethereal, otherworldly, and yet, at that very moment, he felt so human under him. His body was trembling and tensing in his arms, trying to move to answer Hob’s thrusts. His breath was heavy, just as Hob’s, little moans coming out of his mouth with every drag of his cock against his sweet spot.

The slow burn was maddening, the pleasure was pooling into his belly, begging to be released, but he wanted to drag it a little longer. He couldn’t stand the thought of ending this. Dream’s fingers ran up his back, nails scratching his skin. Hob shuddered and cursed under his breath. That almost made him lose his control, and he had to slow down for a second.

“Hob…” Dream whispered in his ear with a so sweet, lustful voice. His fingers scratched his scalp, and Hob’s eyes rolled back.

“Fuck, Dream, I’m-” he moaned, his hips faltering.

“Cum for me, Hob. Cum inside me, fill me with your seed,” Dream ordered, and Hob couldn’t not obey.

He thrust harder, pressing his forehead against Dream’s chest, and was mindful enough to grab Dream’s cock with a hand. He pumped his King with the same rhythm as his thrusts. His precum oozed over his hand as Dream held tightly onto his shoulders, letting himself be used by this unbelievable human. Seconds later, Dream felt hot cum flood his insides, Hob’s hold tightening around his hard cock, and he came too, painting both their chests with his cum.

—

Hob woke up with a gasp. He was confused for a moment. Yes, this was his bedroom and he was alone on his bed. Dream had disappeared at some point (had he even been there at all, had everything been a dream?). He sat up and winced at the feeling of his jizz inside his pants. Well, a small price to pay for the hottest dream he’d ever had.

He got up from bed and went to the bathroom to undress. It wasn’t the first time he dreamed of his Stranger, not even the first wet dream he had of him, but this one had felt so real he had serious doubts about it being just a dream. But it had to be, didn’t it?

He took his shirt off and smelt it to check if it needed a wash. Instead, he was hit by Dream’s wintery smell mixed with his own. He decided it was good enough to wear again, at least at home. He then pulled his trousers down and with the movement he caught something in the mirror. Hob turned, trying to look at his back in the mirror. There were eight red scratches separated in two different sets going from the middle of his back to his shoulders.

“Fuck,” he breathed, incredulous.

Hob huffed and started to laugh a little hysterically.

“Fuck, Dream. I get it, not just a dream.” He ran his hands over his face and looked at himself in the mirror. He was smiling like an idiot. “Hope it doesn’t take you one hundred years to come back, then.”

His heart was pounding elated in his chest.

Hope you liked it. I'll update it to AO3 soon.

There may be a continuation but I'm not sure about it.

#dream of the endless #dreamling #hob gadling #the sandman #fanfic #fanfiction #english fanfic

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missacidburn928s-heathenhideaway · 7 months

Text

Moonlight & Fang Ch. 6

Divider by @firefly-graphics

Bucky

You could say my life has been nothing more than a series of unfortunate events. Hard to believe I’m sure as I was born into Royalty. Prince James Buchanan Barnes III. Bucky to my friends and family.

I unfortunately don’t remember much of my time spent within the castle. What I do remember is how fiercely my mother loved me. It drove my father mad. Said she was spoiling me and I would never become a strong King if she kept coddling me so. But she didn’t care.

It was on the eve of my 11th birthday that my misfortune began. I had snuck out of the castle with my best friend Steven. We were only just exploring the woods and practicing our fighting skills with fallen branches, like any boys would do. When a group of bandits happened upon us.

They had us surrounded. No doubt knowing exactly who they had come across. I managed to distract them enough for Stevie to get away. His mother needed him and I would be beside myself if anything happened to my best friend.

I fought with everything I had in my small body. It just wasn’t enough and the bandits made away with me into the night.

Not before leaving a parting gift for my fathers guards to find. My left arm. Complete with my family crest signet ring. I can only assume that they presumed I was dead. It was of no matter at the time as the bandits loaded me onto a cart and traveled as far away from the kingdom of Brook Lain as they could get.

As we moved about the forest, the leader of the group, Rumlow, decided that taking my arm was not enough. He had the bright idea to soak what was left of my arm in the blood of an Alpha wolf, from a long bloodline, who he had recently slain.

When the enhanced blood entered my bloodstream, I got violently sick and I could feel things within my body begin to change. When the full moon rose 3 nights later, those new changes took full effect as I shifted into a wolf for the first time.

A white wolf, with all four legs attached. When I awoke in my human form the next morning I was no longer missing my left arm. In its place was a fully formed one, covered in black markings that resembled the moon and stars.

Even though I was now this supernatural being, the bandits kept me imprisoned for years to come. Using my abilities for their gain.

That is how we ended up here in the cursed woods. The people of the village nearby, claim that a wolf terrorizes these woods. Killing anyone who steps foot within it. Protecting the Hag who calls it home. Only a few have lived to tell the tale of the Crimson Wolf. All too young to truly have done any harm in their lives.

Rumlow offered to kill the wolf and rid the village of its menace. For a price of course. They agreed to his terms. His plan was to force me to shift and set me on the trail of the crimson wolf. All while keeping me on a leash. He wanted me to kill the creature that was only protecting its home.

We set off deep into the woods, where they beat me until my wolf took over and I shifted. They quickly collared me with silver, but we refused to move. Our defiance was met with silver tipped daggers being slashed across our skin. Nothing deep enough to kill, but they will leave a lasting scar. Plus I can’t heal from them as quickly as I would any other wound.

Never the less the pain was excruciating. All I could do was lift my head and howl in pain, as they kept sticking their blades in me. Coating my white fur red.

Selene

My wolf had been pacing inside my head all morning long. Something had her agitated. I couldn’t keep still and kept fidgeting. My erratic behavior did not go unnoticed.

“Everything okay there Sel?” Sy asks. A look of concern, furrowing his brow.

“Something feels off. My wolf. She just won’t stop pacing. Keeps mumbling ‘Need to get outside. Need to run.’ Over and over.”

“Alright. Then let’s get outside.” He simply states. “Me, you and Ari can shift, so that you’re not alone and your wolf can calm down. How’s that sound?”

My wolf yips in my head. Happy with her mate's suggestion. “Sounds like she agrees.”

“Hey stabby boy. I know you’re hiding in here somewhere and heard everything. Meet us outside.” Sy says loudly into the room.

For some reason, I felt inclined to double check that the spare room attached to my apothecary is clean and ready.

Finding that it is in fact, fully stocked, complete with fresh sheets on the bed. I make my way out into the garden. Where Sy is standing next to a smiling Ari. Both clad in only a light pair of trousers.

I slip out of my dress and shift on the porch. I bark and take off at a run for the woods, knowing my mates will shift and soon be on my heels.

I allow my wolf to guide me through the trees. She clearly knows where she is heading and I am just along for the ride. That is until I hear the cries of a wolf howling in pain.

We slow our speed. Needing to be stealthy as we approach where the howls are emanating from. We watch in horror as a group of humans torture a restrained and defenseless White Wolf.

All three of our hackles raise as they plunge the silver tipped dagger into the wolf’s right flank. It is taking everything within me not to growl and make our presence known right now. But we need the element of surprise, if we are to save the poor creature.

Unleashing a symphony of snarls and growls, we emerge from the shadows and engage the malevolent bandits that surround the tormented white wolf. A clash between life and darkness ensues, the woods calling for sacrifice.

Fangs bared, claws slashing through the air, I become a tempest of raw power and primal fury.

The sunlight dances upon the clearing, illuminating a chaotic battle scene, as crimson droplets splatter the ground in a macabre dance.

A surge of strength can be felt between our bond. We are meant to be here. We overpower our adversaries. With each thunderous paw strike, the bandits crumble, their reign of terror coming to a brutal end, as our jaws clamp down on the throats of the vile tormentors.

The clash of steel against fang resounds, echoing the victory of righteousness over wickedness.

The white wolf gazes at us with gratitude and reverence in their eyes, as the bandits lay defeated.

I quickly shift and make my way over to the wolf. Making sure to be slow in my approach so as to not scare them off. I need to get a look at the damage those assholes did. But before I can do that I need to remove this horrid silver chain and collar from around their neck.

As gently as possible, I remove the collar and chain. My skin burns during the contact but not enough to do any real damage to me, thanks to my hybrid status. I throw the damn thing to the side and without even having to be called, Othello and his conspiracy, spirit it away on the wind.

I won’t be able to get a good enough look out here in the forest. I need to be in my apothecary where I can assess and heal without worry of more of those evil humans happening upon us.

“Sy. Baby I need you to shift and carry them back to the house for me.” He shifts without second thought and carefully scoops the creature up into his arms. Soothing them as they whine from the pain.

“Ari and I will follow in wolf form for added protection. There is no telling how many more of them are out there in my woods.” I give him a kiss and shift back.

There is something about this wolf that has mine paying close attention. Hopefully we will soon find out why.

Bucky

Flashes of silver tipped daggers plunging into to my flesh. Wicked smiles adorn the faces of my torturers. Laughter filling the air as they find pleasure in my pain.

It’s the same nightmare as always. That is until a trio of wolves appears and rips into my captures. So much blood. So much violence. My tormentors falling one by one.

I am weak. Ready to give into the pain and finally be free.

In the blink of an eye a woman stands in the clearing. Naked flesh covered in blood. A wolf. She was one of the wolves.

She approaches me. There is sadness and rage in her eyes. She removes the collar from neck and throws it away. I hear feathers in the distance.

Her amber eyes scan my body. Then she speaks to the wolves behind her. One shifts and turns into a very large man. He approaches me with the same kindness and gently lifts me into his arms.

She says something to him and then shifts back into a wolf. We being to move and I lose my battle with consciousness.

I fly awake. Shooting straight up into a sitting position.

"Shh shh. It's ok. You're safe here. Your captures have been handled. Their fates were determined by my fangs. Their hearts were eaten to fill my packs' bellies. Never again shall you suffer at the hands of another." The woman from my dream speaks.

Was it a dream?

"Who are you?" I ask. Voice hoarse from misuse.

"After all that I just told you, my name is the thing you wish most to know?" She responds.

"I watched you shift. I unknowingly smelled you well before that. I know you’ve seen my wolf. But I am sure you can scent the wolf in me as well. I saw with my own eyes my tormentor's destruction. So please. What is the name of the beautiful wolf who saved me."

"Selene."

"The goddess?"

"No. Just in name only. Though I do have a connection to the triple goddesses. So I guess you're not too far off. Anyway, does anything hurt? You were badly injured when we found you and brought you home. Most of it was bruises and cuts, which I tended to with my tinctures and salves."

"Tinctures and Salves? Are you a witch as well as a wolf?"

She nods her head yes.

"These woods are cursed by a hag. You can't be serious that the hag of the woods is also a wolf and saved me."

"These woods were cursed by a hag. But I am not her. That vile being would be my mother. And I took care of her years ago."

I breathe a sigh of relief. "Then how are the woods still cursed?"

"Funny you should ask that. The goddesses informed me of a prophecy. You see, in order to restore balance to his land and undo all the harm my mother bestowed upon it. I would need to claim the 5 mates the stars had destined for me. Each would make its way to me and be tested. After which I must claim them."

"And how is that going?" I let my curiosity get the best of me. Well, more like I let her honeyed scent drive me to know more.

"My pack is currently me and my 4 mates. It has been a great while since the last time I took a claim."

"Hence the curse remaining."

"Indeed." She notices my eyes beginning to droop. I am still so tired. "Rest now sweet wolf. Allow your body to heal. Take however long you need. You are safe here."

"Bucky." I manage to whisper.

"What was that?" She asks.

"Bucky. Call me Bucky."

"Bucky." Her face lights up with a smile. "Now rest, white wolf. My healing magic works best while you sleep."

I close my eyes and let myself fall into a peaceful slumber.

As I heal in this room, I can’t help listening to the inner workings of this pack. It seems as if there is no head Alpha. No male is fighting for a place at the top. They bicker and tease each other but from what I can tell they have built some sort of brotherhood. All centered around her.

Selene.

I may not have much exposure or experience with women. Being that I was captive for so long. But I have never seen anyone like her.

Yes physically, she is the epitome of beauty. All curves and soft skin. A body most likely built for sin. Not to mention a scent that calms my wolf like no other. He has never been so peaceful inside my head before.

For as vicious and ruthless as I have seen her be. She is the most loyal, loving creature I have had the fortune of being in the presence of. When I spoke of how I came to be with the bandits, I saw as well as felt the rage and hurt in her eyes. A sense of understanding, all too well, what it feels like to be that helpless. That is when I learned how truly cruel her mother was.

She sings a lot when she's happy or working on her healing potions. Her voice as alluring as a siren's call. She’s always in a dress. Lots of black and red. I am fond of the flowy ones with the bell sleeves and high slit up the high myself.

I am envious of the bond she shares with her mates. With my perceptive hearing, I catch everything. I knew that Sy was the one who carried me through the woods to the manor. I now know that Ari is the other wolf that helped save me that day. I met Dean and Jax after my first few days here. I was in and out of sleep so much they didn't want to overwhelm me.

I know that Jax and Ari, like Selene, are born wolves. While Dean and Sy, like myself, were turned. They were bitten, while mine was just as painful if not more traumatic. Every man has treated me with kindness and a respect I feel I am not owed.

Most often, I overhear them having sex. Even though on a couple occasions they’ve tried to be quiet. Arguments turn into makeup sex with Ari a lot. Jax and Sy can't get enough of her and will happily take her together. Dean switches it up. Firing her up to punish him and then turning around and taking control.

It’s a dynamic I wish I could be a part of. My wolf and I have fallen for the gorgeous creature that is Selene. Though I have been too afraid to voice it, as she already has 4 strong mates. How could I be number five when I am so broken?

Today has been extra tortuous. She has been in her apothecary, the room adjoined to the one I have been staying in, all morning. Her scent has been extra mouth watering and my wolf just won’t settle. I am faring, no better myself when s he walks into the room, bearing fresh linens, that most certainly smell like her. She sits beside me on the bed and I can't take it anymore. I lean forward and kiss her.

Selene

“Oh thank the Gods, you finally came to your senses and made a move.” I blurt out as soon as he removes his lips from mine. The kiss was chaste, but I have been craving him since the moment his scent, no longer acrid with fear, hit my nose.

“What? You knew we were drawn to you?” He asks. A look of bewilderment on his handsome face.

“How do you think we found you in our woods? It’s the pull my dear sweet Bucky. You’re our missing knot to tie the strings of fate together and complete the foretold prophecy.” I declare.

“But I am not worthy enough to be your final mate. I couldn’t even save myself.” He whispers.

“You were but a child when you were captured. You did what you needed to, to survive and make it to me where I could set you free. Now let me complete your destiny please. I ache for you so.”

“I know not what I am doing. I have never willingly done this before.” He confesses.

Rage begins to coil in my chest. “Are you telling me that they forced themselves upon you?” I growl.

“Only once I reached my teens and they thought it was funny to make the wenches they procured from the brothels in the towns we visited and brought back to the camp to watch me shift to a wolf. Then back and make them sleep with me while they all watched. It was entertainment for them.”

“Oh you poor thing. If I could, I would bring them back to life so that I may torture them one by one. Making them beg for the sweet release of death that I kept them from for hurting the one destined for me. I would 1000 times over. Be sure of that.” I tell him with conviction.

“For now allow me to show you the true pleasures of the flesh and remove those tainted memories from your mind. Let me replace them with our bond and the beautiful future it shall bring.” I plead.

He places his forehead against mine. “Please. I crave to be yours.”

He renders me incapable of responding by capturing my lips with his own. Pouring the love that he spoke of into every caress of his tongue.

I let him control the pace. His hands roaming my curves. Sneaking his thick digits under the silk of my dress, leaving goosebumps in their wake. He begins to remove the garment, taking care not to rip it. If only some of my other mates were so kind.

Placing a hand on my lower back, he slowly pulls the fabric over my head. I raise my arms in aid. Grazing my fingertips across the beard that has grown along his jaw when he places my dress to the side.

As always, I have nothing underneath my dress, too bothered to deal with undergarments. He trails his hands down my flesh in reverence. Tracing fingertips along each scar and stretch mark. My skin may be soft and supple, but it is a map of the life I have experienced. Down to the worse bits. Reminders of what I went through and why I am thankful for every breath.

Leaning back on his haunches, he grabs the back of his shirt and pulls it off. His lust filled crystal blue eyes focused on me draped over his bed sheets. “So fucking beautiful.” He runs his hands up your legs, settling them on my hips.

Leaning forward, he ghosts kisses along my thighs and lower belly before continuing on. Mapping out a trail of pleasure and gooseflesh. Teasing first one and then the other nipple with his tongue, ending each with a deep suction.

The slow exploration continues, driving my need for him higher. I can feel the slick beginning to pool on the sheets below me.

He stops his trek at my mound. Hot breath blowing puffs of air on the cooling slick leaking from my folds. He looks up at me for permission to continue. “Please”, is all I manage to whimper out.

He sticks out his tongue and circles my sensitive little bundle of nerves. Pulling a moan right out of my throat. Taking his time to slowly torture me. Learning the wants and needs of my body with each arch of my back, and pull of his longer locks that my fingers become intertwined in.

I can feel the natural confidence increasing in him. He surprises me when he thrusts his tongue inside my aching center. The thick muscle massaging my silken walls, giving them something to finally clamp on to.

“Fuck! Bucky your tongue feels so good inside me baby.” My hands anchor themselves deeper in his hair, so that I may just enjoy the ride. But that doesn't seem enough for him. It’s as if he wants me to be a desperate, begging mess, before he gives in and allows me to come apart for him.

Pulling his tongue out, he swirls it along my folds. Seeking out every drop of slick that weeps from my cunt. Moving the appendage upward to lightly circle figure eight patterns on my clit, bringing me right to the edge. So close to falling over that cliff into utter bliss before the bastard pulls away.

“ No! Why’d you stop? I was so close.” I sit up, reaching out for his face, wanting to drag him back to my pulsing center.

He scoots off the bed. “The first time you ever come for me is going to be while my cock is deep inside you and your writhing on my knot .” He unlaces his trousers, drawing my eyes down to his hands working on divesting himself of the last of his garments.

I am hypnotized by his movements. Mouth watering as I wait for his thickness to spring free from its confines. Time seems to stand still as his pants drop to the floor.

“My, oh my what a glorious thick cock you have there.” I whisper out, licking my suddenly dry lips.

Bucky

They way her pupils dilate, reducing the beautiful amber to slivers, as she gazes upon my cock for the first time, is like a magic all its own. I can feel the abused pieces of me begin to heal. Replacing them with that look of love and desire in her eyes.

Following my instincts, I step back onto the bed and in between her spread thighs. Her slick dampened folds practically glitter in the sunlight reflecting through the stained glass windows.

I place my hardened cock between her cleft. My sensitive tip bumping against her engorged little button. She squirms and whimpers. Clearly wanting me to be inside of her already. My wolf can sense that halted orgasm from my tongue, inching its way back to the surface every time my hot length grazes her bundle of nerves.

My massive thighs push her legs further apart as I give my turgid length a couple of slow strokes. I tease the thick head of my member along her folds once more. Coating myself in your essence.

She locks eyes with me. “ Please ,” she whimpers.

Leaning forward, I raise her hands above her head on the mattress and interlock my fingers in hers. Placing a kiss to her lips, I push forward and enter the warmth of her cunt. Splitting her open on my generous girth. Pulling my hips back, I give her no time to adjust, as I begin to grind my hips down on hers with every thrust.

Foreheads pressed together, we’re completely lost in this carnal dance of love and devotion. The room fills with the sounds of our passion. A symphony of moans and groans, accompanied with the sound of slick flesh meeting slick flesh.

“Nothing has ever felt as good as your pussy squeezing me so tightly. I need you to come for me, Selene. Come around my cock. I’m not going to last much longer and I need to know what it feels like when you let go for me.” I groan out between deep thrusts.

Selene

It’s like his words have a direct link to my clit and with another well placed swivel of his hips I feel myself lose control as my orgasm takes over. A rainbow of colors flash behind my eyes and the world sounds as if I'm underwater.

Everything comes back into focus just as Bucky is reaching his own climax. Knot triggered by the tightening of my walls. He buries himself deep inside me, locking us in place. He bares his fangs and bites down on my collarbone, the opposite side of Dean’s claim. As he paints my womb white with rope after rope of his seed.

Something deep within me is telling me to grab his left arm. The one with all the beautiful black and gray markings. I turn my head slightly to the right where the large bicep of his left arm sits. Without wanting to disturb him while laying his own claim on my heart. I reach forward and pull the flexed muscle toward me and proceed to bite down. Lavishing as my mouth fills with the coppery sweet tang of my mates blood. Claiming him as he has claimed me.

Completing this bond feels different. Another orgasm rockets through my body as a rainbow of stars detonate behind my eyes. It must be doing the same for him. I can feel his knot twitch against my walls, as he fills me once more.

It felt like it went on forever with how much he was pouring into me. I writhed beneath him, back arching off the mattress, pressing his fangs deeper into my skin as my own do the same to his bicep. With reluctance, I remove them. Licking the wound before going limp and laying in a state of bonelessness.

Panting, he too removes his fangs. Licking the claim and leaving a gentle kiss on the mark his teeth left behind. I lift his head, run my fingers through his dark tresses and kiss his nose.

Catching his breath, he covers my face in sweet kisses as we both come back down to earth.

We stayed locked together. My pussy warming his cock, as we both let our fingertips roam along the other's skin. Allowing ourselves time to just revel in the moment of the new direction our relationship has taken.

This was more than just another mating. We completed the circle.

What happens next, none of us expected. The prophecy, having now been fulfilled, produces a magic that surges through the bond all 6 of us hold. Slipping us into a deep slumber.

Until we awaken days later to a new energy coursing through the woods.

#moonlight and fang #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader

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kiatheinsomniac · 1 year

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.・✫・゜・。. ｡⋆ʚ[ 𝐊𝐎-𝐅𝐈 𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐔𝐏! ]♡⃛ɞ

──── 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 ˊˎ - ☾ ⋆ ﾟ𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 / 𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: apr. 2023: top supporter @vampire2468 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Diluc Ragnvindr x chubby! poc! Reader 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 1k 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: none

You watch as Diluc returns to the manor and allows Adelinde to take his coat as he huffs about all the work he still has left to do and retreats to his office without saying thank you. It always makes you clench your jaw to see him behave like that. What gave him the right to be so rude to those of you that worked beneath him? What made him deem you to be unworthy of something so simple as manners? You listen as the office door closes heavily, as though he had kicked it shut behind him (which he had).

You continue with your duties bitterly as you reflect on Diluc’s recent behaviour. You are newer than the other maids at the manor but you’re not exactly a rookie either, you believe that you’ve been here for long enough to have a fair understanding of he who is dubbed the uncrowned King of Mondstadt. You’re glad that he doesn’t have a crown, it would likely only make him more dismissive of those beneath his station than he already is.

But you can see why people still like him: Diluc Ragnvindr is a brilliant businessman and devilishly handsome and so it’s only natural that he’s the most sought-after bachelor in the nation of winds and freedom. But it’s his personality that puts you off, you much prefer a heart full of gold than a bank vault full of it and Diluc just doesn’t check that box. Diluc had never even welcomed you to your new job, that had been Adelinde’s task. As far as you’re aware, Diluc Ragnvindr does not even know that you exist, you must just be one of the many women in the black and white maid dress uniform whose name nor face he cannot bother to remember.

People like Diluc bother you deeply and yet whenever you try to bring up his poor manners with your peers, they all tell you to be more understanding of the young Master. Adelinde had even scolded you for your criticisms of him! What you cannot figure out is how everyone seems to be so enchanted by the red-haired wine tycoon when you can barely stand him. Why is that? You simply let out a huff as you continue on with your duties, dusting all of his many ornaments which you see only as a means to flaunt his wealth.

The following day, you approach the manor in the early morning in order to begin work for that day but you overhear yelling. You go around to the side of the manor to find Diluc chewing out the delivery man, so angry that the shade of his face is beginning to resemble that of his hair, all while the delivery man looks at him in astoundment and cannot get so much as a word in between the young Master’s infuriated rambling.

“I’m tired of your lack of manners!” You interject and suddenly both heads turn to you, Diluc’s brows pinching together.

“Excuse me?” He asks.

“You heard me! I’m sick of you being so rude to the people who work for you all the time!” You watch as he closes his scarlet eyes and takes in a deep breath through his nose, straightening his posture as he attempts to recompose himself. He turns to the delivery man.

“Your mistake was costly and I expect it to not be repeated, now if you will excuse me,” He turns to you and, with a hand between your shoulder blades, begins to usher you inside until you are standing just inside his office. “I have been very stressed as of late and I hope you can forgive me Miss…?” His eyes soften when he realises that he does not even know the name of this employee of his.

“Y/n.”

“Miss Y/n.” He finishes, “My behaviour will change. Does that improve your work environment?”

“It’s not about that! You need to be nice to people!” You protest. Diluc’s brow twitches. He is unaware that the amount of stress he is under has made him more blunt as of late but you are new and do not know him as the gentleman he was raised to be. As he sees it, you are both in the wrong: him for slacking off on his manners and you for making such assumptions about him.

“I am nice to people, my father raised me to be so.” He begins, “Why don’t I give you an opportunity to see me for who I am and I can make things up to you? I do not want you to be unhappy with me if you are working for me, Miss Y/n.” He suggests.

“And how would you make it up to me?” You eye him warily.

“If it is not too forward or suggesting anything inappropriate, I’d like to take you to dinner in order to apologise and show you the sort of man I really am. Would you allow me to do so?” He asks softly, his tone vastly different to the snapping and yelling you had heard from him no less than ten minutes ago outside. You think back to what Adelinde and the other maids had said about him. Perhaps they were right? Perhaps you truly didn’t have the chance to know Diluc for who he really is and you have simply met him in poor timing?

“... Very well. If it is for an apology and nothing inappropriate.” You agree, “When?”

“Take the day off, please, I insist. We will meet tonight if you are available to?” He reaches down for your hand, feeling its softness even through his gloves as he presses a kiss to your darkened skin. “Do not overwork yourself as I have done these past weeks.”

“Tonight works, yes.” You suddenly begin to understand why so many women chase after this charming young man.

“Good.” He smiles softly at you. “Then we will meet over dinner tonight.” He watches your soft and curvaceous figure leave his office as he looks forward to this evening. You were right to call him out on his behaviour – he had forgotten his manners and he values a woman who knows the importance of them and is not afraid to stand up for her principles.

☾ ⋆ ﾟlike my work? why not: ∘ buy me a coffee? ∘ commission me? ∘ join my taglist ∘ consider following/reblogging

🏷️@kingheinrey @darlingdoctor @aeonianarchives @ghostofpolaris

#｡⋆ʚ[ ko-fi roundup ]♡⃛ɞ #diluc ragnvindr #diluc ragnivindr x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader

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cuckoo-on-a-string · 2 years

Text

Hello, Mr. Monster (Preview - Ch. 4)

This chapter is going to be very long. Hopefully, I'll finish it by the end of the week, but you're all so patient and wonderful, I decided to give you a treat. Enjoy!

Full chapter now up!

The van sat in the middle of nowhere. Somewhere out west, maybe. Big Sky Country. The horizon spread into forever, bright with lavender clouds and a hot pink glow where the sun’s disk had only just sunk out of sight. Gold framed each puff of purple, and although the sun was gone, the world still glowed warm.

The day’s heat radiated from the van’s hood, where she sprawled, watching the sky turn into a piece of art.

Except, the sky didn’t just look like a painting. It was one. She could see the texture of the thick paper and sus out brushstrokes layering the liquid colors in watercolor splendor.

She didn’t mind.

But it was a little strange.

Oh.

Then.

“I’m dreaming.”

“Yes.”

She sat up, not exactly startled by the voice, but intensely aware of the brooding presence waiting for her attention. Her monster stood in the road, an onyx figure juxtaposed against the soft, hazy pastels, and it felt like he belonged.

But of course he did.

He was the lord of dreams.

She sat in his creation, and he surrounded her, even if he separated his form from his realm in this scene. Every light and shadow. The breeze stirring her hair. The warmth of the sun. Had he wielded a brush with her in mind as he blended that watercolor sky?

A truly monstrous face peered at her. A spine for a snout and great black eyes glowing red. She hesitated, watching him, absorbing her first real sight of his chosen body, and she saw the pale neck behind his collar. He wore a helmet. A mask.

Blinking, she sat back on her hands, puzzling over him. She just couldn’t understand the logic here. A question gathered on her tongue, tart and round like an old-fashioned jawbreaker. If she could just push it past her lips, it would roll right to his feet.

He seemed nearer, inches away from the side of the van instead of yards, and long fingers reached out to the faded paint. Fingers she remembered peering through to see the stars.

“I wished to speak with you.” His voice sounded just a little muffled, and she struggled to pick out every nuance in his quiet tone. He spoke like a king. Assuming her compliance. Maybe uncertain how to ask his own questions. “Somewhere safe.” His hand ghosted over one of the wing mirrors, like he was exploring the dream with a sense she could not see. “Somewhere… familiar.”

The mask lifted, and the gaze behind the dark eyes held her. “You are safe.”

Maybe he offered comfort. Reassurance. Or he wanted to tell her how to feel.

In the stillness of the wide dream, she felt at peace. Maybe not safe, but not threatened, either. And he said he wanted to talk, so the question finally tumbled free.

“Why are you hiding your face?”

He paused, and the world stilled with him.

Confidence swelled into power, a reassuring pressure that straightened her spine and steadied her heart. Her opinion, her curiosity had value, and that gave her an authority entirely opposed the monarch’s control.

She wondered. Did he think she hadn’t noticed?

“You do not know me.” Smoke and sand rasped through the words, hints of emotions she could not see and only barely heard. “You’ve been taught to see me as a monster. Until that has changed… I would prefer you come to know me through other means.”

He laid out his explanation like a royal gift for her to examine and accept. It sparkled with the truth, but it wasn’t whole. Gaps she could fall through lingered in the weave, and she wondered what terrors the King of Nightmares wanted to keep hidden under his coat.

She’d already met them all.

“And perhaps,” he added as an afterthought, murmured half to himself, half into the dream, and hardly at all for her, “it will keep you safe.”

He muttered it like a wish – and why would a god need wishes? – inspiring the wind to carry it away in waves of long grass to the place the sun melted.

With new breath in the dream, he gathered himself from his thoughts and took his turn to question.

“How much do you understand of what was done to you?” His fingers twitched, curled, relaxed with painstaking care.

You’ll have to be more specific.

She barely bit back the taunt. It was a good sign that she wanted to tease. The rhythm of a friendly conversation wouldn’t stir in her head if she wasn’t comfortable on an instinctive level, but she had better sense than that, and she did not know this creature. She didn’t know if he’d laugh or play along. Her childhood burst with tales of his wrath, his quick temper and devastating judgements.

He wanted to know about the scars and the sand.

Looking off toward the paper sky, distracting herself by trying to name each shade between lavender and fuchsia, she recited all the awful facts of the matter. “An unseelie fae tore through my mortality. They cut into the name they found – your name – and filled the cuts with sand. That makes me tricky to kill and a little too aware of my wyrd sometimes.”

Ah, and then – Her eyes fell to her lap, where her fingers picked at imagined hangnails. “It hurts. Aches all the time. Until last night.” She glanced at him through her lashes, like the scrim would hide the memory of tangling herself up in his essence between distant galaxies and throbbing stars. “Thank you. For helping.”

“You need not thank me.” And like he realized how that might be misinterpreted, he continued, “But you are welcome.”

She decided to test the waters, see how generous her monster would be with his words. “Can you… explain it to me? What you did to make it stop hurting? You said you couldn’t heal it.”

“I cannot,” he agreed. “Not entirely, but it is in my power to reach the mark, and I believe that is what causes your worst pains. Your mark recognizes me. My sand still responds to my command.”

Knowing he had control of something literally carved into her heart sparked a flare of caution, and she wondered if all the things he wouldn’t say had to do with the power she never meant to steal. She’d suffered so long, though. The past day was a gift, and as dangerous as it was, she’d probably accept it the next time he offered. What would he ask for in return?

“And you can do it again?”

“Whenever you give me your permission, yes.” He angled towards her, the helmet shifting as he drew closer. “A touch would be enough.”

Her eyes squinted against a phantom rush of sensation. “We definitely did more than touch last night.”

“Yes.” Damn if he didn’t sound smug as hell. The velvet of the night sky in a word, whispering of different, darker dreams that turned to blushing secrets in daylight.

Oh.

So, that was what he got in exchange.

“But I had much more to heal. Tonight, you could simply hold my hand.” He lifted it, just outside her personal space, waiting palm up for her decision. “If you wish.”

#morpheus x reader #morpheus x oc #morpheus x original character #dream x reader #dream of the endless x reader #dream of the endless x original character #hello mr. monster

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silver-tooth-the-panther · 10 months

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(This was requested by @muzansmissingspiderlily. I hope you enjoy this! By the way, Kōkai means regret in Japanese.)

Sins of The Fathers

(A Demon Slayer Vore Fic)

Warnings: Suicide attempt, guilt and regret, soft vore

Word Count: 810

The young black-haired boy stood upon the cliff. He was waiting for the sun to rise, but it wasn’t for human reasons. This boy, Kōkai, was the son of the former Demon King, Muzan Kibutsuji. He was the only one of his father’s children to know of the monstrosities that he had committed and the regret and guilt had slowly devoured him.

Kōkai had officially escaped his father’s grasp right before the demon slayers defeated him. He had no clue that the demon society had changed due to Tanjiro taking the throne. Unfortunately, the guilt of knowing that his father had slain so many innocents was tearing him apart. The young boy outcasted himself and only chose to eat animals to control his demon urges.

However, Kōkai’s guilt grew too strong for the young boy to handle. That is how he found himself here, waiting to be burned away by the sun. “I’m so sorry.” He said to himself with a voice coated in sorrow and sincerity. “Sorry for what?” A deep, yet warm voice spoke through the darkness of the forest. Kōkai jumped with fright.

“Be not afraid..my dear child.” The voice’s owner then stepped out of the bushes. He was a tall man with long black hair, which seemed to have red tips. The man wore a purple and black kimono and a black hakana that firmly tightened with white cloth. Undoubtedly, the man’s strangest feature was his eyes. He had six of them! All of them red with yellow pupils. This man was none other than..Kokusibo, the Uppermoon One demon.

Kōkai had met this demon before, but only once. It was when he accidentally found out his father was a monster. The young boy had gotten lost in the Infinity Castle during one of Muzan’s meetings. There, he stumbled upon his father, conversing with his fellow demons on the different ways they could kill the Hashira. So, he did have good blood with Kokushibo.

“Why are you here? Did my father send you?” Kōkai asked, gritting his teeth. Kokushibo raised his hand, indicating for him to be quiet. “Not at all..dear child..Your father..is gone.” His voice was oddly gentle and sympathetic, which was unlike the stoic and cold voice that Kōkai had heard previously. “Well good riddance! That man was nothing, but a monster!”

Kōkai turned back to the horizon. The sun’s rays were starting to come up. Kokushibo then seemingly started to panic. “Young one..you’ll die if you stay out here..you need to hide!” The young boy shook his head. “You don’t care for my well being! You’re a man eating demon!” Kokushibo sighed with a heavy heart. “I have committed many sins..but things are different now..our new leader forbids us to eat humans..and we’ve become better people because of him.”

Kōkai looked away from him. “Even if that’s true, that doesn’t make what my father did any less evil.” The sun slowly started to rise. “Yes..but it is not your burden to bear!” Kokushibo realized that the boy wasn’t listening to him, so he did the only thing he could do. The six-eyed half-demon rushed towards the boy. He blocked Kōkai’s body from the sun with his own. “Wha-? What are you doing?!”

Kokushibo didn’t respond. He picked up the young boy, opened his maw, and put him inside. “Hey! Stop!” Kōkai struggled against the soft, purple muscles of Kokushibo’s throat. His struggles were fruitless and it only quickened his journey to Kokushibo’s belly.

Due to the drastic size difference, Kōkai didn’t leave much of a mark on Kokushibo’s body. The large demon sighed in relief and rubbed his stomach. “It’s alright..little one…You’re safe now..” Kōkai tried his best to escape the pouch-like organ. “What do you mean?! You ate me!” Kokushibo made a soft, yet sad rumble. “You will not be harmed..I’m merely keeping you out of the sun..”

Kōkai exhausted himself and curled up into a ball. “I deserve it. My father hurt so many innocent lives.” Kokushibo’s heart broke into pieces. He didn’t want the boy to suffer like this. “It is not your fault..They were his actions..not yours..you are not anything like your father…you..are not a monster.”

They boy closed his eyes and listened to the soft gurgles of Kokushibo’s stomach and his heartbeat. These sounds coupled with the warmth and softness of his belly greatly soothed Kōkai. “Are you sure that the demons don’t eat humans anymore?” Kokushibo nodded. “I’m certain..” Kōkai smiled and rubbed the stomach walls around him. “Alright, thank you.”

Kokushibo smiled to himself as he started to walk off. “Of course..little one…You’ll be adored..by the kingdom..” He placed a protective hand over his stomach as he started to head back to the kingdom that he loved dearly.

#half-demon! tanjiro au #comfort vore #safe vore #soft vore #vore writing #demon slayer vore

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daylightcommand3 · 3 months

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TMNT 2036

The King and The Hunter

I am currently working on the outline for season 1 of TMNT 2036. I've mentioned all of the characters appearing in the season, except for two. One can be discussed directly, the other must take a more... obscuring view. So without further ado, meet The King and The Hunter.

The King

Splinter finally looked behind himself. At the end of his tail was a knot. But, it was not only his tail. Another rat's tail, the same size, was intertwined with his. His eyes trailed up the tail. A grey body was at the end. It was a rat, a rat as big as him. Its bandages couldn't hide the exposed bloody bones and the rotting green flesh. The head held a glowing, piercing red eye.

Splinter gasped. He instinctively stepped away. His leg shattered. He screamed. A burning carved through his whole body. He collapsed to his good knee.

Between his choking and within the corner of his eye, Splinter saw the body start to stand. From the floor, it grabbed a long, black trench coat and matching wide-brimmed hat, and put them on.

"What's the matter Splinter?" The rat had a hollow, rattling voice. "Don't you recognize your future?" He laughed.

The Hunter

I was hesitant on including Leatherhead at first. He's been done so many different ways. I wasn't sure if I could bring anything new to the table.

However, I soon decided on making a merge between the 1987 and 2012 versions. I wanted this hunter style character to be a devoted ally of the turtles. I also took a smidge of inspiration from Mutant Mayhem and made my Leatherhead female.

Now, I'm about 90% sure on her origin. As stated before in the Bishop post, the X-Triad dumped mutagen on Earth. They did this for at least centuries. However, they eventually discovered that mutagen actually had an effect on the local wildlife, and soon realized this would reflect badly on their society. So, the Obscura Secreti (Mirage) was set up. This organization's goal was to remove all the mutagen and mutants from the planet, as well as cover up the existence of both. (Fun fact: Ch'rell was part of the Obscura Secreti. He considered it a waste of his abilities.) Most mutants were either demutated or killed, however there was one major exception. A mutant alligator possessed the ability to sense and track other mutants. Finding her sense more effective than any of their scanners, the Obscura Secreti used Leatherhead to find mutants, which resulted either the mutant's demutation, or Leatherhead having a nice meal.

Now, the Obscura Secreti would be attacked many times by humanity. Countless human civilizations (such as The Foot Clan) wanted the goo that creates powerful beasts and monsters which in turn could be used to destroy enemies and conquer others. Thus, throughout humanity's history, raid's were carried out on Obscura Secreti facilities in order to take mutagen. One of these raids caused the total destruction of the base, resulting in Leatherhead being let loose in the world.

Over her long life, Leatherhead explored the changing world. She's been across every square inch of the world, both land and sea. She even came across my version of The Hidden City (AKA Y'Lyntias). It's there she learned that she should not eat mutants that can talk.

An incident early into her travels was her encounter with a human hunter, Jack Marlin. Marlin was a fanatical big game hunter, with a focus on unique and real animals. He attempted to hunt Leatherhead.

She ate him.

Fortunately, Marlin tasted really bad, and so she hasn't tried to eat a human since. She did take his clothes and gun. His shotgun, Betsy (the name was etched into it), is Leatherhead's signature weapon. His vest and pants were the first ones she ever wore. She couldn't fit his shirt on (the vest was already being stretched), and before you ask, even as a mutant, she doesn't have breasts. To this day she still wears Marlin's hat, even though it has his name on it.

Eventually, she found herself in New York's sewers. There she found 4 mutant turtles and a mutant rat. She quickly endeared herself to the four young boys with her tales of the world above. The rat was not pleased. Regardless, she became enamored with the family, and began to make an effort to visit regularly between her travels. She saw them grow and their skills improve. Donnie often repaired and even upgraded Betsy. As she visited, their desire to see the surface only grew.

Leatherhead is an aunt/grandma to the turtles. Distinctly a extended relative. Leatherhead is an in-law for Splinter. And Splinter hasn't even been married.

Leatherhead's physical appearance is a mix between 2012 and 1987. Her body is very similar to 2012, though the limbs aren't strangely thin at some places (kinda like the LEGO figure). Her clothing is heavily based on the 1987 version.

(Images of Marlin for further outfit reference)

#tmnt #tmnt 2036 #tmnt iteration #the rat king #leatherhead #this is the appetizer

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camillemontespan · 1 year

Text

the memory of us [drake & camille AU]

@katedrakeohd @jovialyouthmusic @gardeningourmet @kingliam2019 @saivilo @walkerswhiskeygirl @sophxwithers A/N: I was watching The Vow earlier..

Camille gently pulled Lily’s fluffy pink sweater over her head. As the little girl pulled her arms through, her hair became static and stood up to attention.

‘Look at your hair!’ Camille cried, giving Lily a quick kiss on the tip of her nose.

Lily looked in the mirror and laughed, pressing her hand against the static hair. ‘I look so funny!’

Now that the sweater was on, all that was left was to zip up Lily’s denim skirt and pull her pink boots on. Lily loved pink.

‘Okay, we’re nearly ready,’ Camille told her. ‘Now go say goodbye to daddy- he’s going to pick you up from school later.’

Lily grinned and bolted down the corridor to find her father. Camille smiled and looked at herself in the mirror; she looked prepared for the meeting later with Liam. With her hair pulled up into a chignon, she was wearing a white cashmere sweater paired with black trousers and nude Manolo heels.

She looked like a different person from the Camille of five years ago. Not that she minded; she wouldn’t trade this new life for anything. Drake, Lily and Luna were her world.

Camille grabbed her trench coat and walked quickly down the corridor towards the kitchen where Lily was telling Drake all about her dream last night. Luna was sitting in her high chair, eyeing the banana Drake was trying to get her to eat warily.

‘Lils, it’s time to go,’ Camille called.

‘Give me a hug, kiddo,’ Drake said, abandoning the spoon with the banana and crouching down to give his daughter a hug. ‘Make good choices.’

Lily snuggled into him. Drake was, in her opinion, the best dad in the whole world.

Camille pressed a kiss on top of Luna’s forehead, smiling as Luna gurgled. She felt Drake take her hand and she turned to kiss him.

‘And you,’ he murmured against her mouth, ‘you should also make good choices.’

Camille felt herself blush. How did Drake still manage to make her blush even after five years? How did he manage to still have this effect on her?

‘I’ll be home by five,’ she told him, breaking away.

‘Spaghetti at six,’ Drake replied, settling down to attempt to feed Luna again.

Camille gave him another quick kiss on the cheek. ‘Love you,’ she whispered, before taking hold of Lily’s hand and rushing her out the kitchen. She had realised that despite being organised this morning, time had run away with her and she was going to be late dropping Lily to school.

With her handbag in one hand and Lily’s backpack and favourite teddy bear in the other, she followed Lily outside to the car.

‘So, shall we listen to Taylor Swift or Harry Styles this morning?’ Camille asked, quickly strapping Lily in.

Lily thought about it for a moment, her eyebrows furrowing in concentration.

‘Harry!’ she finally decided, giving Camille a happy smile.

****************

Camille dropped Lily off at school with Harry Styles blaring from the car speakers. Some of the parents turned to look but Camille didn’t care. Whenever she drove - and that wasn’t often because she was a reckless driver, which was severely at odds with her usual careful and calm personality- she always had the music on loud.

Once Lily was safely in the building, Camille drove through the busy streets towards the palace. As the Duchess of Valtoria, Camille had monthly meetings with King Liam to discuss her duchy. If Camille thought about it too much, she would freak out realising just how much her life had changed in five years. From being a waitress in New York to a Duchess in a tiny European country, married with two kids.. It was ridiculous.

But she wouldn’t change it.

She eyed the clock and could see she was running late. She had five minutes to get the palace and it was currently fifteen minutes away.

Shit..

She accelerated quicker and could see that the amber light just ahead was about to turn red. Her foot pressed down harder but the amber light still turned red.

Camille kept driving, thinking she could easily make it.

It was an ill-judged decision.

The car that had been granted right of way drove straight into Camille’s side of the car. Brakes were applied, glass smashed and Camille’s head bore the impact.

***************************

‘The Duchess of Valtoria has been involved in a car accident early this morning….’

‘...currently in hospital receiving treatment…’

‘Her husband is refusing to speak to reporters…’

Camille’s vision was blurred. There was a pounding pain in the side of her head. She felt like she had been run over.

‘Please, Your Grace, please calm down-’

‘I will not calm down-’

Camille tried to blink, wanting her vision to go back to normal. She could make out bright lights above her and shadowy figures, one of them gesturing wildly.

‘Turn this shit off, we don’t need to hear this shit-’

The sounds of other voices were quieted and only two remained near Camille.

‘Your Grace, please just listen to me-’

Camille groaned and the voice broke off. She could feel someone take her hand. Calloused fingers. Big, warm palms. Comforting hands.

‘Camille?’

‘Uggnnhghhh…’ she groaned.

Her eyes adjusted and she could now see clearly.

**************************

Drake’s heart was pounding in his chest as he stared down at his wife. There was a horrible purple bruise on her forehead and a long red gash. She looked pretty banged up; not surprising considering the other car that had crashed into her side.

She blinked slowly and was now looking at him groggily.

‘Camille!’ he breathed. ‘Oh thank god you’re awake, thank god..’

He leaned down to bring her hand up to his mouth and he pressed an urgent kiss on her clenched fist. ‘I thought you’d died, I heard about it on the news first’-

‘Your Grace..’

‘But you’re okay, you’re safe!’ he couldn’t stop talking. Since he saw the news headlines flash on the TV, he thought his world had ended.

‘Your Grace..’

The doctor’s voice was like a warning.

Drake stopped talking and turned to look at Doctor Santiago. She was looking at Camille with concern.

Drake looked back down at his wife to see her staring at him looking terrified.

‘Who are you?’ she croaked.

And that was when Drake’s world ended.

#drake walker #drake choices #trr #drake and camille

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