#masquerade ball chapter two | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

retroellie · 2 months ago

Text

Little black dress

Summary: After wearing a little black dress that gave nothing to the imagination, Daryl decides to drag you to the bathroom and remind you who you belong too.

A/N: It's been awhile y'all! Omfg, I have been so busy writing a book that started out as a passion project but now I'm like really into it lol. But this is filth, and honestly took me 6 days to write no mf joke. It didn't really read through it so it might be messy lol, anyways miss y'all!! enjoyyy <3 (also it is so fucking long, omfg...I'm used to writing long chapters in my book HKAHKSHFJA)

Warnings: Sexual harassment, public sex, face fucking, unprotected sex, BDSM, mentions of SA (kinda?), just men being gross tbh, dirty talk

Word count: 13.7K

It had been years since you actually had to worry about what you were wearing, even longer since you had to dress presentable. But here you were, caressing every inch of your body trying to decide if your short black dress was "presentable" or plain slutty. You were teetering towards plain slutty, the way it hugged your curves slightly... showed a bit too much of your scared-up legs, you're breast perking to attention as if they were made just for it.

You examined your body, wondering what everyone would say if you showed up to something so classy wearing this. The dress code was nothing special, "Halloween costumes and formal!" the flyer said. You had nothing that would be considered either of those, maybe you're old bloodied shirts from before the commonwealth... you could dress like a walker. However, you had to look approachable... as if you were a reporter of some sorts.

You sigh softly, brushing your hair from your face as you exited the bathroom. You don't even know why you cared so much, it's not like you actually wanted to go to this stupid ball. You were only going because you were helping Connie out with her story. You promised her that you would talk to some people there, and write down their opinions of the commonwealth. You told her you would look presentable and approachable, something you didn't look very often.

"Plain slutty" wasn't a bad thing, before the fall you would dress that way on a night out anyway... But you weren't who you were back then. You didn't want all the male or female attention, especially in a new town like this. They would whisper, they would gossip... no matter how pretty you looked in your cheap dress, you knew they would be merciless.

You walked to yours and Daryl's shared room, grabbing your bag you've had since the fall... it didn't match the outfit at all but you needed something to remind you who you actually were. You placed the bag on your shoulder, turning around only for your attention to be drawn to something shiny on your bed. Your husband's knife...

"At least Daryl will be there." You thought to yourself, biting your lip softly as you stared down at the knife. This new life has been a fairytale almost, almost like the entire apocalypse thing never actually happened... like you and Daryl were just a normal married couple with normal problems. It was so weird worrying about small things again, like what you were going to wear for this stupid masquerade ball.

You two had been "married" since you became a part of the commonwealth. It was strange, especially since everyone called you "Mrs. Dixon". You had been with Daryl for around 7 years, but you weren't married. However, when coming to the commonwealth there was an option for you two to be married "legally". You couldn't help but laugh when they brought it up, there was no government, and there was no "marriage" anymore. They were dead serious though, looking as if you were crazy when you laughed in their face. But you signed the papers basically stating yours and Daryl's "marriage"... so now you guys just are.

Daryl was a security guard at the ball, leaving much earlier than you to go do his job, so he had yet to see the way the dress showed off what was his. Suddenly your mind went another way, remembering the last time you wore a low-cut shirt or too short shorts... It was a decision that had you wobbling for 3 days, kiss bitten down to your calves and completely fucked. You blushed at the thought of it, hoping you could get through the night without Daryl scolding you for the too-short dress. Maybe you wanted that... maybe you wanted to tease him.

Daryl was completely comfortable in the relationship, he had no real problem with you showing your body off sometimes. But if anyone knew how a man could think, it would be Daryl. He knew the disgusting thoughts that would go through a man's mind when they saw a woman's upper leg... He knew just how they could spin that to make it sexually gratifying. It made him sick to his stomach knowing what men think when they see you... he fucks his anger out, hard and fast just like how those men think they can do to you... only he's the one doing it.

You shook the thought away from your head, making your way down the hallway of your dingy apartment. You realized how sad and depressing your apartment was, you made a mental note to get some art or posters to hang up... you needed to make this apartment into a home, or at least something ya'll feel safe coming home to. You passed by Judith and Rj's room, peeking in to make sure everything was in check... "in check" meant there was no one or thing hidden within it. The fall had done that to you, made you cautious, and made you the type of person to make sure each room was clear before leaving. Even though you personally went through every inch of the house trying to find RJ's hat just this morning... you just had to make sure there were no changes.

You finally were able to leave the apartment after making sure the door was locked 4 times. It was a short walk to the ball, about a 7-minute walk, but with heels on it was 15 minutes. You were never much of a heel walker before the fall, you envied women who could... but you never got that walk down. You would have killed to look so classy in heels, but you never got that kind of feminine gene. So you took it slow, walking with caution as you brought down your foot for each step. You looked stupid, maybe even drunk to some of the passersby.

You finally made it though, only 10 minutes late... but you found Connie and Kelly waiting for you at the entrance. You gave them a small smile, wobbling over to them. You were super close with Kelly and Connie, ever since they stepped foot in Alexandria... you guys were insufferable. So it didn't come as a surprise for Connie to come to you first when she needed help gathering "stories", which really meant gathering dirt about Pamela. You were more than happy to do it, it was something to get you out of the house and even landed you getting an invite to the most talked-about party of the year.

As you wobbled to the 2 women, it seemed as if you took them off guard for a second, completely unrecognizable as they didn't know who you were. It wasn't until you got closer that they saw who you were.

"Y/n?" Kelly asked, almost in disbelief that you could get all dolled up like that. "Jesus I could hardly recognize you with all that... boob."

You looked down at your figure, seeing just how different it was from your usual attire. It was strange being this... naked. You started to feel a bit uncomfortable, almost nauseous as you looked down at your heels. You weren't used to attention, you were but you weren't. You are not the ugliest person out there and you know that, people seemed to think quite the opposite which you didn't really agree with. You would catch people looking at your ass while walking past them or catching a feel of your breast while hiding from hoards.

You were no stranger to that attention, hell that's even how you and Daryl became what you were. Daryl couldn't keep his eyes off your hips and your lumps... that's the only attention you wanted though. The rest of them, it didn't matter to you. You could live without it, you were over wanting that attention just to validate yourself... that was in the past for you.

"what? Is it too much?" You asked, pulling your dress up just for it to almost flash your ass to the world, causing you to pull it back down just for your boobs to pop out again. There was no winning in the dress.

You searched both of the women's faces, hoping they would say all they needed to say. Kelly's eyes were focused on your face, probably noticing the cat-eye look you were trying to do... which used to be your specialty, but now you're out of practice. She was probably not used to seeing your lips so red as well, which that part is what you were most proud of simply because you made the mix yourself. You wondered what she was thinking, maybe you should run home and put on some normal clothes. Maybe this was a bad idea and you should have just stayed home. Connie brought a hand to your arm, bringing you back to reality.

"No! You look beautiful." She signed, making you feel a bit better. "Thank you for helping Y/n."

All of your worries slowly melted away just by this gesture, making you relax a bit. As said before, Connie was one of your best friends, you even learned sign language from her. Ever since you met her, she was always so gentle with you. No one really understood your insecurities or your panic attacks or the reason why you were so damn quiet all the time... but Connie did. She read you like a book, you hated it... but it was nice to know that someone could. Especially someone like Connie who would speak up for you if you needed her to. She knew you could never stand up for yourself.

You just gave her a small smile, nodding your head basically telling her that you were okay and you could do this. It was just for a night and you've taken out hordes, you've bashed a man's head in with his own leg bone before... you can take a night in a skimpy dress, you can take the attention it will give you. Plus Daryl was there, he would kill a man for touching you if he needed to and he has before. So you felt more than comfortable walking into that door and forcing stories out of men to get dirt on their leader.

"Yeah, well I'm your girl when you need to get information out of a man." You said, trying to lighten up the mood even if you were the one who needed some lightening up. "All you need is a small waist and huge knockers, Take notes ladies."

Connie and Kelly both let out laughs, boosting your confidence a bit. You smiled softly at their laughs, looking at the doors and seeing how crowded they were getting. Women in big dresses and men with fancy little tuxedos made their way into the double doors, Some were even wearing their own handmade Halloween costumes. They all were trying to get into the door, only to be met with the security who had to pat them down for weapons and whatnot. You once again felt a wave of relief, knowing you weren't the only ridiculous-looking one there. You suddenly were so thankful for it being Halloween. You sighed softly, putting your smile back on as you looked back at Kelly and Connie.

"We should probably get in before the line gets too long." You spoke, signing as you did so.

You all made your way to the double doors, Connie's hand on your arm as a way to make sure that you knew she was there with you. You appreciated it, this was a big crowd of actual people and you weren't used to that... especially with live people. You knew this night was going to suck, you were probably going to be a nervous wreck by the end of it. But at least there will be alcohol.

“But seriously, Y/N…” Kelly’s voice cut through your distraction, drawing you away from the parade of ridiculous-looking rich people. Her eyes were fixed on you, a playful suspicion lacing her tone. “You don’t strike me as the type to pull off this kind of glam… were you some kind of model or something?"

You just let out a soft laugh, walking up the stairs to the soft light illuminating the doors. You couldn't help but let your mind linger on your past. It wasn't something you were proud of that's for sure, you were a mess. You were freshly out of high school, going to college away from home so it was pretty much guaranteed that you would be doing something you would grow to regret. You would do it all... men, women, drugs, alcohol, partying until the crack ass of dawn.

It was a time in your life that was so confusing and being around people who were half your age, you weren't sure what was right and what was wrong. That phase lasted until you found Daryl, suddenly something inside you switched. He was nothing but soft and gentle with you, at least as soft and gentle as he could be. You meant something to him and that's when you realized that you weren't some drunk college girl that men and women could tear down for their own pleasure. You were someone, and that was enough.

There had been countless nights where Daryl had to carve that fact onto your skin, kiss your soft lips until you could say nothing but who you were, fuck it into you. You had lots to work on, Daryl did too... that's what made you two such a power couple. You worked on your shit together, made sure the other knew where they stood in life... who they were and who they weren't even though multiple untrue things have been drilled into your heads. You let the thought wander through your head before coming back to the moment.

"I am full of surprises." You joke back. You knew you could tell her what you really were back then, you're confused and you're hurt... but you left it at that.

The night went too slow for your liking, not even halfway through the night you were at your limit with men and you were ready to go home. As you sat at the bar, sipping on some fruity drink one of many men had bought for you, you pulled out your notepad from your dirty bag. It was almost empty, only 3 stories collected simply because the men were too focused on the way your dress laid against your breast. You swore you talked to almost 20 men tonight and only 3 of them actually had the decency to keep their eyes to themselves and answer your questions.

Most of the men didn't want to hear you talk, they just wanted to undress you with their eyes. You gagged at the thought every single time, even more disgusted by how some of them thought it was their right to put their hands on you. You could still feel a hand on the small of your back or placed softly on your hip. This dress started to feel like not a good idea and you should have caved into your desire to change into something different. You will say, that at least a lot of the men bought you drinks... you could have only gotten through this night with "Sex on the Beach" and "Strawberry Daiquiri". You would much rather have whiskey if you were being honest, you had been hanging out with Daryl too much.

You started to read through the notes you wrote down, jotting down some keywords in their stories so Connie could rearrange them for her story against Pamela. You were almost halfway through the second story and your 3rd Strawberry Daiquiri when you felt a hand on the small of your back once more.

"My, my... ya here all by yourself sweetheart?" You heard a deep voice say, you could almost feel their breath on your neck.

You jumped at the sudden touching, yelping as you turned around in the spinny bar chair. You were ready to swing on the perpetrator, you were too frustrated and grossed out to have another man try to get into your pants tonight. You lifted your hand up, ready to slap the shit out of the man... only for your hand to fall back down as soon as it went up.

It was Daryl. His shit-eating grin spread on his face as he chuckled softly at your sudden burst of violence. Little does he know, he's not the only guy tonight to say those same words and touch the same spot just above your ass. You would probably tell him later, but for now, you kept it to yourself... you knew he'd be furious, probably dragging you to the bathroom and fucking you till you couldn't walk properly anymore. The more you think about it, the more you want that to happen.

You sighed softly, closing your eyes softly and leaning against the bar. You were so glad to see him though, you hadn't seen him all night. You tried looking but you were far too busy trying not to get groped by old men or beat up by their wives. You knew this night would have been 100% better if you found Daryl earlier, he would have really made the night somewhat fun or maybe at least been your bodyguard.

"Not alone... My deadbeat husband is somewhere around here." You joke, turning back around to face your notes.

You could hear Daryl chuckle behind you, he set himself between you and the empty chair next to him. He looked down at your notes and your 3 empty cups, he knew these were not your first and definitely not your last drinks of the night... then his eyes trailed down to your dress. You had told him you would be here and what you were doing here, but he didn't know just how you were going to show up. The dress was going to get you in trouble, especially with the way that it caused Daryl's pants to tighten.

His eyes drifted down your body, the sight of your almost bare breast made him almost choke on his own tongue. Daryl watched as you brought the last bit of drink from one of your cups, watching you slurp it down. He let out a soft cough, clearing his throat as if it would clear the thoughts of what those lips could do.

"Deadbeat, huh?" he started, watching you bring the cup back down to the bar counter. You licked your lips, getting every ounce of the alcohol from it. "Well then, your deadbeat husband should be ashamed of letting you go out in something like that."

He brought his hand up to touch the fabric of it softly, placing his hand on your hip and giving it a soft squeeze. You tried to stay up straight, even if the alcohol was creating a glorious feeling between your legs that made you feel like you could melt into his touch. Even the smallest of gestures from Daryl could have you at his feet, just the tiniest softest touch could create a fire deep within you. You were feeling bold tonight though, maybe it was just the 7 drinks you had but something within you burned with the need to be devoured.

You bit your lip softly, feeling the loose skin that resided there. You looked up to him, eyes full of lust. Daryl couldn't help but feel the same kind of fire erupts in the pits of his stomach. Your glazed-over eyes, the smell of the pure alcohol that he knew was affecting your ability to think, the way the black dress was still on you even though he wanted it off. You leaned in close to him, his hand still wrapped around your hip softly.

"if only he was here to put me in my place." You spoke, words flowing off your tongue like honey.

Daryl let out a soft breath, his clothes suddenly feeling so constricting against his skin. He never knew all he needed to do was get a couple of fruity drinks in your system for you to be so... feral. It made all the blood in his body rush straight to his cock, making the head of it rub up against his jeans so uncomfortably. You were everything but a perfect angel... you knew how to talk dirty, you knew how to get Daryl's cock up and ready to pound into the first hole he could get to. But something about the way your tits looked in your dress and every single man wanting to tear you apart with their bare teeth... and yet you only wanted Daryl to fuck you in the ways only these men can dream.

Daryl looked around, being sure of his surroundings before making any stupid decision he knew he would make with you. No one was paying any attention to him... some of the men you talked to earlier were still trying to catch a peak, hoping that maybe your thighs would spread wide enough so they could see just in between them. So they could store it in their minds and use it for spank material when they need a little push. That made Daryl's breath get heavy, hands shaking slightly on your hip as you leaned closer into him... he could smell a hint of your perfume and it was giving him a slight high.

Daryl looked back down at you, seeing your soft stare... watching your eyes move down his body and then back up to his eyes. Daryl placed a hand on your cheek, rubbing it softly as he debated on dragging you somewhere more private. His lips ached, his cock already leaking with need... if anything could make daryl dixon be reckless, it was you. He almost gave into you, almost engulfed your lips with his, and made you whimper... made you his in front of everyone. However, something caught his eye... his abandoned post.

He was supposed to be guarding the door, making sure no one else came in, and making sure everyone was on their best behavior. Rosita was there, on one side of the door as she too watched the dance floor. He had a job to do, a very important one that would have you both moving up in life if he did it right. He shouldn't even have left in the first place, but something about the way your thighs looked from afar... he found himself stalking towards you just to get a better look at them. He let out a soft smile, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek before he retracted away from you.

"Ya look beautiful sweetheart..." He said simply, giving your body one last glance before stepping away from you completely. He could feel your energy fall slightly as you groaned at the loss of warmth... your dress did nothing to cover you up, so his warmth was appreciated. "I gotta go do my job, I just wanted to see you before I got too busy."

You wanted to pout, you wanted to kick your feet and scream like a child... that's how drunk you were, you would beg for him if he wanted you to. You didn't find that fair that Daryl could get you going, put his hands on you, and warm you up just to pull away like it was nothing. You were too drunk, too cock starved, too horny to let him leave you like this. Your legs were wobbling already, you're cunt throbbed and every time you would move your legs it would create irritating friction that you wish were from his fingers. You sighed softly, not done with this just yet...

"Well that's too bad..." You said, hopping down from the bar stool. Your dress came up a little too high, showing just below your ass. You pulled it down, which once again caused your breasts to pop out... but this time you wanted them too. You watched as his eyes focused on them. "I'm wearing my best panties... I was really hoping someone could help me put them to use."

You sighed dramatically, grabbing your bag and throwing it over your shoulder. Daryl gulped back a comeback because there was nothing good that was going to come out of his mouth. He was torn between two nasty names.... some of the most degrading names he could think of. All he wanted to do was slam you against the bar counter, tell you how fucking slutty and how much of a fucking whore you were... 2 things he knew you loved, he knew it made you weak in your knees just thinking about it. But he had to keep it cool, y'all were in public and he would like to keep those names between the two of you.

You stepped up to him, looking down at his obvious erection... you smirked to yourself knowing just by your words you did that. You looked back up to his eyes, reaching up to adjust the buttons on his shirt and patting his shirt down. You could tell just by his eyes what he was planning on doing to you, you could tell you were in trouble. You leaned up to his ear, standing on your tiptoes just to make sure he was the only one to hear.

"I will be in the men's bathroom if you need me..." You whispered, pecking his cheek with your lips just as he did to you. You swear you could see his eyes twitch, his anger rising within him as you teased him softly. You gave him a soft smile. "I hope to see you soon, Mr. Dixon."

You said, teasing him even further and not giving him any time to even react to your words before you walked away. You could feel some eyes on you as you walked away, except they weren't Daryls... they were the countless men that weren't Daryl, their eyes boring into your skin but you paid no attention... they weren't your target audience right now.

You were able to slip into the men's bathroom without anyone noticing, which was tricky since every man and women's eyes were on you the entirety of the night. You knew you would get some attention but the amount you got was overwhelming... you forget sometimes that a lot of these people have been in the commonwealth since the fall, most never experiencing the horrors just outside of their walls. So when a woman who is covered in scars speaks so confidently to them, it is intriguing. Not to mention the way your body curves, how it dips and stands out so perfectly. Not a lot of women in the commonwealth have that kind of "fighting for your life" kind of body type.

You open the door to the men's bathroom, slipping in before anyone notices you even did. You choose the men's bathroom simply because you knew it would be easier for Daryl to slip into and away from his post for a bit, allowing him some time to fuck the shit out of you. Luckily the bathroom was empty but you didn't spend too much time making sure since you knew someone could walk in at any minute, so you entered one of the stalls and locked it.

The bathroom was one of those nice ones you see in fancy restaurants, the stalls were almost like little rooms that only held a toilet and a trash can. The walls surrounding the toilet were painted a cream color and went all the way to the ceiling down to the floor. These were the types of bathrooms that were perfect for fucking if you're being honest, I mean the privacy... it was almost as if they were made for horny couples who need to let some steam off.

You sat on the toilet, imagining all the possibilities and positions you could find yourself in the small confinement of the 3 walls and door. Your eyes locked themselves on the door which was the only "stall-like" thing in the small area. There was a large gap between the door and the floor, making it so you were able to see the shoes of people who walked by. Luckily you could see none, but the anticipation of seeing those black boots with the mix-match shoe laces... Jesus, you hoped he would come, you didn't even give him time to answer.

In this moment, the anticipation and the hope you don't get caught brought you back to when you and Daryl started seeing each other. while on runs or even around the small time you and the group were on the road... Daryl would get sexually frustrated from watching you, his cock rock hard and eventually he couldn't take it anymore. He would grab your shoulder, bringing his mouth as close to your ear as he could... growling into it that he needed you, ordering you to go to a secluded area and "wait like a good girl" for him. You were so needy for him that you did exactly that, sometimes waiting an hour before he showed up and fucked you into the dirty ground.

That was around the time when your relationship was kept hidden, Daryl's choice. He told you it was because of the 15-year age gap between the two of you, he was worried about the things that would be said about the two of you. It was strange for a 37-year-old man to be romantically involved with a 22-year-old. But deep down you didn't believe his words, you subconsciously knew it was because he didn't want to get close to you. He had this thing with trust, so it came natural for him not to want to trust you at first... he was okay with just fucking you and leaving you limp on the forest floor. However, somehow along the way... he fell so deeply and utterly in love with you, that now he feels ashamed if he has to hide you.

Suddenly, you were pulled from your thoughts when the bathroom door opened. A slight tingle made its way through your body and it wasn't the good kind. You placed your feet on the toilet along with your body, hoping the person didn't see your high heels, and called security to come to escort the woman in the men's bathroom out of the ball... that would be embarrassing. You heard the person's heavy footsteps, not able to see their shoes because of the walls of the small bathroom covering your view. You held your breath, trying to keep yourself quiet as the person made their way to the stalls.

You listened closely to the steps, hearing them walk closer and closer to your stall. Questions filled your mind, did someone see me come in here? Is it one of the men who now thinks this is his chance? Am I completely fucked and was this a bad idea? Fortunately, it didn't take too long for your questions to be answered because when the two heavy-duty work boots with the mix-match shoe laces appeared between the gap of the floor... your body relaxed slightly.

You chuckled softly at your worry, realizing how fucked the fall actually left you. You were expecting Daryl yet your mind went to the worst that could happen... Jesus, hopefully, the commonwealth will ease your paranoia.

Knock

knock

Those three knocks were too familiar to you. It was the knock you and Daryl used when hunting or when you holed up in a random cabin for the night... it was just a way for you two to say "Hey it's me. You're safe.". You smiled softly, standing from the toilet and wasting no time in opening the stall door. The stall door opened to reveal your angry-looking husband, he did not look too happy about the fact he had to fuck some sense into you while he had to do actually important things, like make a living for you two. You couldn't help but laugh softly at his face, how angry he looked... you were feeling the buzz of the alcohol throughout your body and it was hitting hard. You leaned yourself against the door frame, making sure your hips stood out as you did so.

"Mr. Dixon!" You exclaimed, almost as if you weren't waiting like a little dog would for its owner... You placed a hand on your hip, head laying against the door frame. "I didn't expect to see..."

You couldn't even get your words out before Daryl pushed you into the stall, shutting and locking the door behind him. He pushed you against the stall door, attacking your neck roughly. The warmth spread across your body, your body going limp for only a second before you threw your head back onto the stall door you were pushed against.

"Shut up..." He whispered into your neck, biting and sucking at your soft spots. He wrapped his arm around your waist, keeping you in place as he worked his mouth on your neck.

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, trying your best to stay up straight as he basically touched you in all the ways you craved. It was fast, very fast as he basically speed ran trying to make you as wet as he possibly could get you. You knew this was going to happen, you basically begged for it to happen... but that doesn't make you any less surprised by his sudden touch. He licked a strip up your neck, biting your ear lobe softly before going back to leaving down your neck... you knew this was his way of marking you up, making sure the mark would show so pretty on your neck in your black dress, scaring away the men's attention.

His kisses led down to your chest, leaving bite marks here and there as he did so. You could come undone from his abuse on your neck, your body arching into him as you tried so desperately to quiet your soft moans. Daryl pushed you further into the stall door before pulling your dress down, exposing your breast to him as he softly kissed down your body. He stopped his kisses, taking a moment to take in your squirming figure and how red you had gotten from just kissing. He leaned down, taking your breast in both of his hands, and squeezed them together before sucking on your already hardened nipples. It all happened so fast, making you not only drunk but also now high off sudden pleasure. Your hands went to his hair, pulling it softly as his soft sucking on your breast sent small zaps of pleasure straight to your clit.

He went back and forth between the right and the left, squeezing one while he sucked and licked the other. Your world was spinning, not sure if it was the 7 strawberry daiquiri or if it was the way his mouth felt on your tits. You could feel yourself getting so close to the edge, embarrassingly close... he barely even touched you and you were almost coming undone in your panties. You gave his hair a particular rough pull, trying to remove his mouth from your nipple... you were too close to the edge, not wanting to cum now... You didn't want to give Daryl an even bigger head than he already has when it came to making you feel good.

"Jesus... Daryl, I'm too drunk for the foreplay, just fuck me." You whispered out, your words shakey as you shivered from the cold air brushing against your now slobbered-up tits.

Daryl detached himself from you, your hands still in his hair as he did so. He tried to hide the smile from you but trust and believe the way you were begging made his own high come to him. He couldn't tell which one of you was drunk, and he hadn't touched a drop of alcohol this entire night. You leaned against the stall door, the lock from the door digging into your back. You squirm underneath his gaze, feeling his hands make their way back to your waist. Your tits are still standing to attention, red and puffy from his kisses.

You breathed heavily, looking into his lust-filled eyes as he brought his face closer to yours. You could feel his breath fan across your face, the smell of your shared toothpaste bringing memories of the nights you would have together in your small apartment... All the nights spent bent over the sink as he rammed his cock into you, praying Judith and rj were asleep, or even the days where you two just had to be with each other. So you filled the bath, lit some candles, and spent hours making out with each other... no fucking, no dry humping, no cumming onto each other. Just you two, taking in each other's presence and exchanging saliva.

"You beggin' me?" He whispered, lips hovering over yours as he spoke. You debated on reaching up, touching his lips with yours... speeding this entire thing up. But you couldn't deny you loved a long drawn-out fucking session in a fancy bathroom.

"No..." You teased, smiling up at him as you brought your face even closer. Your eyes make their rounds from his lip back to his eyes. "Simply asking for a favor."

You had a way of getting underneath Daryl's skin in the most delicious ways, with your innocent-looking eyes and your silky smooth voice. He knew better though, he knew you were far from innocent. Not only have you done things, murderous things that to this day you will never be able to repent from... but also sexual things that have the angels crying. You have allowed Daryl to fuck you on the dirty floor of an abandoned cabin while your people were only mere inches away from you. You have fucked him while covered in blood, even going as far as to cover yourself with more blood because it turned you on so much. You have asked to be held at gunpoint while you sucked his cock, asked to ride the handle of his knife, asked to be slapped in the face until your nose bleeds.

You liked pain, you loved every ounce of it and it was heartwarming that you trusted Daryl enough to be so open with these things... but it was disgusting how you did these disgusting things with such innocent eyes. However, Daryl was a sucker, because he did everything you asked him to with a smile on his face. He never knew he held such a disgusting pervert deep down inside of him until he came the hardest he ever had while fucking you by a trapped walker. Although, with age and the further you got into the relationship, you both settled down a bit. You two were so fucked for each other, you were basically cumming at the sounds or each other's names.

"Real cute... Just asking for a favor huh?" Daryl mocked, his hand running down to the top of your cunt... stopping so he could watch your squirm. He had other plans than to give you what you wanted, you guys were already fucking in a public restroom while hundreds of people were outside.. might as well go the full mile right? "Well then, you're gonna have to ask a lot better than that sweetheart. Knees."

He didn't have to say anything more than that before you were dropping to your knees. Daryl could cum from just knowing you would do anything for him in a heartbeat, especially sucking his cock when he wanted you to. You were never the type to turn down sucking his cock, you loved watching him come undone on your tongue... you even thought he looked so much more pretty at the angle.

You stared up at him with big eyes, your lips red from you biting them and your tits hanging from your dress. Daryl hummed in contentment, reaching down to wrap a hand through your hair as you looked up at him innocently. He ran a soft hand through at first, making sure you knew you were safe with him... making sure you were okay with what was happening. You nodded softly, a way for you to say "I am okay with this". He shot you a soft smile, running a hand once more through your hair to get it out of your face.

It started off so soft, it always started off so soft because you brought out this softness in Daryl... a softness he had never known he had until he met you. But it always ended up rough, because that is how Daryl loves and that is how you love it. Daryl suddenly gripped your hair, a tight grip that had you gasping and wincing. You groaned softly, chuckling softly at his sudden outburst... you knew you were about to get destroyed and in such a pretty dress.

"Want you to suck my cock..." he said, keeping hold of your hair but reaching down to the top of his pants. He unbuttoned them, almost ripping his belt off as he did so. "Gonna cum all over your pretty little face, then maybe I'll fuck that hole of yours."

You watched up at his hands as he unzipped them, pulling them down slightly so only his cock could come out. The sight of it almost had your mouth watering, not able to think coherent thoughts as you watched it twitch slightly. It was rock hard, the tip already covered in precum and flush red as it desperately craved friction. You knew your teasing left him desperate, and needy for your touch… but it’s as if you hadn’t touched him for days which was not true. You could not keep your hands to yourself around Daryl, so fucking was an everyday thing.

Daryl watched your eyes go wide at the sight of it, his grip on your hair tightened which pulled your attention away from his cock and back to his eyes. He couldn’t help but pump himself a few times, more precum dripping from the tip as he did so. You smirked at him which told him you weren’t done with your teasing.

“Is that any way to speak to your wife?” You asked, your words making his cock twitch even more. "Bet none of those men out there would ever talk to me like that..."

As said before, you had this way of getting under Daryl’s skin… and a little part of you enjoyed the way it affected him. It caused this fire within him that you were able to see from the outside, it was a small change in his demeanor, a small twitch of his eye that was probably only noticed by you. It was that small change that had you slightly terrified but completely and utterly exhilarated. That is the main purpose you teased him the way you do, just to see that small fire build up inside of him until he couldn't take it anymore and he just snapped. You were able to get him into so many dirty positions with that fire, so many nasty things just because of your teasing words.

Daryl's hands shook slightly, a slight hint of jealousy coursing through his blood. He gripped your hair harder, pulling some of it out, as he tried to stop his hand from shaking so much. He pulled you closer to his cock, causing a soft yelp to escape from you. His cock was now laying on your cheek, twitching softly.

"Well, those men don't know you like I do..." He said, pumping his cock one last time before setting his hand on the base of it. "They don't know my wife is a horny sex fiend who can't shut her fucking mouth... open."

You didn't have to be told twice, your mouth opening, and Daryl didn't give you any notice or any warning before he shoved his cock almost completely into your mouth. You held back a gag, feeling the head of his cock in the back of your throat already. Daryl kept your head in place, watching you fight with the urge to gag and recoil back from his cock. He can not deny how much pleasure it gave him to see you in pain, obviously the good kind of pain. The consensual pain that you allowed him to give you and enjoyed every single bit of it.

Daryl stayed still for mere seconds, allowing you to get used to the feeling of a cock in your mouth. You eventually allowed your throat to relax, looking up at him with your watery eyes as you went further down his cock. You wrapped your lips around him, staring him right in the eye as you took his entire cock in your mouth... until your nose was buried into his happy trail. Daryl almost collapsed, seeing the bulge in your throat... he could cum down your throat at this moment.

"good girl... good fucking girl." He said, trying his best to keep you like that for a couple more seconds so he could burn this image in his brain for later use.

He knew that you would be giving him that shit-eating grin that you usually give him when you get a big ego... but you couldn't since his cock was down your throat and you were loving every second of it. Once Daryl stored every single detail of how angelic you looked right now, he pulled your head back with your hair. As he pulled back your head, his slobbered-up cock was revealed... this would be another thing he would store in his mind for later.

Daryl didn't keep your head off his cock for long before he slammed your head back down on his cock, once again forcing his cock down your throat and causing you to want to gag again. You couldn't get used to it this time, you weren't able to stop yourself from gagging before Daryl pulled your head off his cock once more but like he did the last 2 times... he forced your head down on his cock once again. You couldn't help but feel your cunt flutter away as your throat was burning slightly. It was a delicious kind of burn, the taste of his cock making its way down your throat.

before you could even almost gag for a 3rd time, Daryl pulled your head away and then slammed it back down. Now his movements were quick, his cock massaging your throat as you just kept your mouth open and your lips wrapped around his cock. You dug your knees into the bathroom floor, your hand holding onto his thighs as you allowed him to use you like a literal sex toy. You felt so degraded, so disgusting... but you wanted more, you needed more. The feeling of someone walking in excited you even more, knowing that any of those men from earlier can walk in just to relieve themselves and be met with the sounds of gagging... gagging from the woman that they wished would do the same from them.

The thought of that alone, the look on their face as they realized what the gags actually were. The cold sweat that runs through their bodies, the red tint that spreads across their cheeks, the inevitable boner that pops up simply because they imagined how you looked while doing such a disgusting thing. You didn't mind someone walking in and that alone left a sense of shame within your stomach, you begged for it really. You knew it could lead to Daryl losing his job, knowing how they would look down on him because he left the partygoers he was supposed to be protecting so he could get a blowjob from his wife in the bathroom. But you would risk it all. The sudden burst of shame and excitement and complete lust caused you to bob your head along with Daryl's hands. Setting your hands on his ass so you could force him into your throat yourself.

"God... fuck, such a fucking whore huh?" Daryl moaned, keeping his hand entwined with your hair. He looked down at you, watching you work his cock in and out of your throat like it was nothing... your slobber dripping from every crevice of your mouth and onto your already spit-covered tits. "Ya like my cock in your mouth, the only thing you're good for huh?"

The degradation of it only made you speed up your movement, the sounds of your choking and gagging filling the air completely. You kept your eyes on Daryl, watching as he finally pulled his attention away from you and lost himself to the feeling. He threw his head back, eyes fluttering closed as he tried to steady his breathing. You looked up at him like he was some kind of god and in this moment... he was to you. You would have licked the floor he walked on if he asked you, in this moment and in any. Daryl was the closest thing to god you have ever believed in, because how can someone so fucking perfect be real? He must have been made from everything good in the world, like candy or fresh laundry.

You got too ahead of yourself, feeling Daryl pull your head back roughly as your rhythm becomes too sporadic, too messy. Daryl pulled your head completely off his cock, a string of salvia was now the only thing connecting you and him now. Your throat burned, it ached as you coughed softly... trying to catch your breath as you waited for what he was going to do next. When Daryl was in these moods when the fire sparked within him, he was unpredictable and that made your liquids leak from your cunt.

Daryl had a plan to destroy you completely and he was going to go through with it. You weren't going to be able to talk to another man without thinking of what Daryl would do if he saw you... you won't be able to speak for the next few days to come, or walk, or get out of bed. He was going to completely fuck you. Daryl took the base of his cock once again, placing his cock back on your cheek... watching it cover your face in your own saliva. You chuckled softly, closing your eyes as his cock drenched your face with spit. That soft chuckle made Daryl's blood heat up again, he didn't want you to laugh... he wanted you to beg for his mercy, cry so hard that you could barely speak, he wanted you to be a ruined puddle on the floor.

"Sit on your butt, head against the wall." He demanded, pulling your hair back and giving your face a harsh slap as a way to tell you that you would regret it if you didn't.

You did what you were told, sitting flat down on the floor and laying your head back on the stall wall. Daryl moved closer to the wall, so one of his hands was resting on the stall. There was only a small gap between the wall and Daryl, you between the both of them. Daryl's cock slid across your face once again, his hand pumping it softly as he made it so you were between his legs.

"Tap on my thigh if you need me to stop." He said softly, running a hand through your hair comfortingly. He was planning to destroy you, but if you genuinely needed him to stop he would in a heartbeat. "Okay?"

You nodded, repeating back a little "okay" before giving him a soft smile. You adjusted yourself so you were closer to his cock, sitting so you were face to-face with it. You were so ready... your mouth begged for it.

"Alright, sweetheart." He reached down, pulling your mouth closer to his cock as he bent his knees slightly. "All you gotta do is keep your pretty little mouth open for me alright?"

You nodded, opening your mouth once more. Daryl smiles, watching you so eagerly waiting for him. He let you catch your breath for a few more seconds, not wanting to completely overwhelm you all at once. But before you knew it, Daryl's cock was back in your mouth... his thrusts started slow. He allowed you to get adjusted to his cock once more, choking slightly as it hit the very back of your throat.

He didn’t wait too long though, after a few soft thrusts he didn’t go so nice on you. His thrusts became rough and fast, his cock slipping in and out of your throat, making your head almost bang into the stall every single time. As his cock assaulted your throat, hand wrapped in your hair as he used it as a way to keep your head back so he could fuck your throat until it ached, he imagined the way the men looked at you.

He saw you from afar all night long, watching you closely as you collected your stories. You pulled your dress down throughout the night, your tits looked heavenly under the softly yellow light. Then you would pull your dress up, revealing skin inches away from your lace black underwear. It was almost as if you were playing with him, making him a hot mess at his post. Then there were the men, all looking everywhere but your eyes... trailing down to the necklace he had found for you, but not staying there very long before looking directly at your tits. They had no shame, they slowly undressed you with their eyes and you knew it.

His thrust became even faster, your nails digging into his thighs and your eyes watered... Your choking and gagging only egged him on more as he violently banged your head into the wall. You loved every second of his abuse, throat throbbing and raw but so was your cunt. You were clenching around nothing, rubbing your thighs together to get some kind of friction. You would even go as far as to say... you were just as close as Daryl. You could cum from the sight of him alone, that's all you needed for your cunt to feel satisfied.

You could sense his orgasm nearing, his moans started to intertwine with your gagging and choking. He had to keep his hand on the wall to balance himself as his legs started to shake violently, thrust getting messy as you started to lick the vein of his cock so softly with what control you had, his hand gripping your hair roughly. If his cock wasn't in your mouth right now, fucking your throat till it bled... you would be begging him to cum down your throat, wanting to taste his salty seed as he came undone from fucking your face.

"So fucking close baby... so close." He groaned softly, trying to keep his voice below a whisper but the feeling of your velvet throat made him lose control of his own voice. "gonna fucking cum."

You hollow your cheeks, closing your lips around his cock and running your tongue down his shaft. You could feel his cock twitch on your tongue, basically begging to cum. Daryl continued his fast, rough thrust... the knot in his stomach was thrust away from bursting and you did everything in your power to send him over the edge, you craved to see the way his face contorted into pleasure as he came... how his eyes squeezed shut, his mouth opening into a slight O shape, his entire body shaking softly.

Suddenly, just before his breaking point, Daryl pulled his cock out of your mouth. You couldn't help but whine softly at this action, your throat needing to feel his warm cum slide down it. Daryl took his cock in his hand, pumping it at the same pace he was fucking your throat. It only took him a good 3 or 4 pumps before hot strings of cum shot out of his cock, landing directly on you. He milked his cock, watching as it spurted on your cheeks, your nose, almost into your eye but you closed them before it could.

"Fuck..." He let out, huffing as he leaned against the wall... his cock still in his hand as it twitched, almost overstimulated now.

You stayed underneath him, your cunt throbbing in your panties. You were sticky with Daryl's cum, with your own spit, and your sweat. You felt disgusting, you felt so disgusting that not even 10 showers could wash away this feeling... this degrading, embarrassed feeling. But somehow, your cunt still screamed for Daryl's abuse. You looked up at Daryl, his cum now dripping from your face as you did so. He looked so tired, so out of it as his orgasm still sent soft shocks down to his cock. You've noticed as he's gotten older that he has had to take more time to recover from his orgasms, it really takes it out of him.

You remembered when you first started fucking him, Daryl wore you out before he could even think about stopping. After every single nut, he would be hard all over again. It was heaven, but also physically draining. Now in your older age, you would much rather 2 or 3 long drawn-out rounds more than multiple quick fucks. Your and Daryl sexual relationship has come a long way, from quick fucks to long passionate, and kind of perverted sex. It was kind of sweet to you in a way, how you both experimented with each other and picked and chose what you liked and what you didn't. It was something no one in the past would have done for you, it was why you "married" Daryl in the first place.

"So beautiful..." Daryl said, pulling you out of your thoughts. He was caressing your face, wiping away his own cum while he did so.

You blushed softly, leaning into his hand... kissing the palm of it softly. Daryl was always so nice afterward, so gentle and sweet. Nothing like he used to be, so distant and cold... not even helping to clean you up. However, as sweet as this moment was... in a weird and fucked up way, your cunt still throbbed. You still needed your cunt stuffed, still needed it fucked raw to match your sore throat. So you dug deep into your chest, trying to find your voice and force out of your beaten voice box.

"Are you up for round 2 or are you gonna need some time to recover?" You teased, your voice raspy and almost barely there as your throat was quite literally broken.

Daryl couldn't help but chuckle, placing his head on the hand that was keeping him upright. Daryl was never the type of person to leave you all high and dry, even if you truly deserved it. He would always give you what you wanted, only he would give it to you over and over and over again until you begged him to stop. He loved watching you cum as much as you loved to cum, so he couldn't deny you the very thing he held dear to him.

Daryl finally was able to get his legs to stop tingling as much, pushing himself off of the stall wall. He now stood inches away from you, just needing to see you in your entirety. You were drenched in his cum, legs sprawled out and shaking on the dirty bathroom floor, your tits hanging from your dress, your hair matted to your forehead and neck... you already looked so destroyed, but you wanted more? He could never understand the pleasure you got out of being destroyed, he loved it too... but being in such degrading positions? Maybe that's why he was the one giving it to you.

He reached his hand out for you to grab it. You did it in a heartbeat, struggling to stand up but balancing on his arm as you did so. He took you softly into his arms, holding you up with one arm as he wiped more of his cum off your face. He slowly brought his knee up to your cunt, you gasped softly as it made contact with your puffy clit. You wanted to move your cunt up and down it, feeling the delicious friction it would give off... but you knew how much of a dick Daryl could be and how easily he would tease you, denying you of his actual cock.

"Old man huh?" He chuckled, still holding you close to his chest. He could feel your heartbeat in not only your chest but also your cunt that was throbbing against his knee. "I'll show you an old man."

He suddenly turned you around, shoving you into the stall door so your face was flat on it and your ass was pushed out. You yelped as he did so, feeling his hands pull your panties down... he wasn't going to take it slow with you this time, he wasn't going to ease you onto him and let you adjust yourself. No, he was going to continue to teach his lesson... make sure it was carved into your brain that what's his, is his, and if you allow another man to look at you like a hungry bear would to his prey... you'll know what happens.

Daryl pumps himself in his fist a couple of times, getting his cock hard again before lining it up to your cunt. You grabbed onto anything that you could, preparing yourself for the devious stretch that you begged for the entire time he fucked your throat. Daryl collected the slick from your dripping cunt onto his cock, making it nice and wet... as if he needed to, your own spit was still covering it. He teased your hole, putting the tip of his cock inside before dragging it down once again. He was trying to tease you, make you feel an ounce of what he felt the entire night with you prancing around in the slutty dress that was now bunched up around your waist. You subconsciously bucked back on him, trying to fit his cock inside your needy cunt... but he held your hips in place, gripping them so painfully that you could feel it throughout your entire body.

He kept this motion up for only seconds before he got tired of it, he got tired of your whines and your pleas, deciding to give you what you craved. In one swift movement, he slammed his cock inside of your wet folds, bottoming out in one thrust as he did so. This action made you moan loudly, almost screaming when you felt the sudden stretch of your cunt around his cock. Daryl revealed this noise, like it was his favorite song... making you scream from pleasure, making you feel so good you didn't care that hundreds of people were just outside of this door... some of those people being the family you have gathered along the fall.

Daryl didn't waste a second, doing the same thing to your cunt that he did with your throat... he pulled his cock all the way out before slamming it back in. You could feel his cock in your stomach, moving around your organs as if it was meant to be in there. You don't think you will ever get used to the size of his cock, because each time you both fucked you would always have to get used to the shape of him all over again... and each time it took you off guard. His cock was merciless, nails digging into your hips, cock buried so perfectly into your cunt... it was pure light.

You were so lost in pleasure, your moans just dripping from your mouth and Daryl allowed it... he was far too lost in his own pleasure to mind. You hoped that the loud music playing just outside would cover the noise and since no one had come running in to make sure you weren't being murdered yet, you felt it was doing a good job of covering up the noise. Daryl kept up his harsh thrust, one hand coming up to your hair to pull your head back so he could attack your neck. His teeth sunk into your skin, causing your body to go almost limp... balancing on Daryl's cock was the only thing keeping you upright.

He watched your eyes roll back into your head, face flush red as he pushed himself further into you as if there was any room for him to do so. He reached his hand that was placed on your hip, sliding it down to between your thighs... rubbing your bundle of nerves slowly. He knew you were close, he knew you could have gotten off his cock down your throat alone.... so he knew you wouldn't be able to hold on very long from his cock being deep inside you. He touched, licked, fucked every single spot of your that he knew would send you off the edge, he was proving pretty successful with it too.

But suddenly, all his movements stopped and so did the entire world for a second. While you were lost in your pleasure, the bathroom door was slammed open and voices now replaced your moans... engulfing the bathroom with their noise. You were too lost in your own pleasure to notice, your moans still slipping through your mouth and your hips trying to once again buck back into his. Daryl however was now in his "security/guard" mode now, reaching up with his hand to slap it around your mouth... pulling you flush to his chest. You gasped into his hand at the sudden action, eyes widening as you felt his cock dig deeper into you. Even though that was not Daryl's intention, it still caused his cock to twitch inside of you.

"Shhh." He cooed, his mouth hovering over your ear.

But how could you be quiet when Daryl's cock was so deep inside of you, how could you be quiet with how close his body was to yours, how could you be quiet when you could smell his toothpaste and the college he wore. but you obeyed, knowing that if you did then maybe you would get a mind-blowing orgasm out of it. You could hear two sets of footsteps, they sounded heavy... almost like 2 men. IT would make sense, if you were in the men's bathroom... You couldn't hear what they were talking about, you could hear them but you couldn't understand them with Daryl's cock grazing your g-stop.

Daryl peaked through the small gap between the wall and the door, watching the men through it. You could tell by the way his eyes relaxed slightly that the men had no idea you two were in here, that they were lost in their own conversation to pay any attention to the stall you two had been hidden behind. Daryl took a step back, pulling you along with him... his movement caused his cock to almost slip out of you, but him pulling you close to his made it once again thrust inside of you. You squirmed against him, his free hand keeping you still.

"Did you see that girl...uhh she had that black dress on? She was going around interviewing people about how they like the commonwealth?" One of the men said, you could hear him unzip his pants as he did so... soon after the trickling of urine could be heard.

"Dixons girl? yeah, I saw her alright." The other man said, his voice almost laced with lust.

You froze at the mention of you, more specifically how you were labeled "Dixon's girl". You had a name and you even gave it to them, fucking assholes. If it were any other time, you would correct them with a fist through the teeth and a knee to the groin... but right now, you were too occupied getting stuffed by Daryl's cock. Your senses were completely filled with Daryl, your cunt full of him... it made it hard to think any coherent thought, especially with how his cock pulsed inside of you, rubbing you from the inside softly.

"Dixons girl huh?" The other man chuckled, finishing up his business as he did so. You could feel Daryl's ego grow a bit, especially with how his hips started to move softly into yours. He got such a big head when it came to you, knowing you were his. "So what's the deal with them? I mean, she's like 20 years younger than that old fuck. Does she have daddy issues or does she just like me older?"

You would have corrected them once again, telling them that you just liked Daryl. You didn't go after him because he was older or because you lacked a father... They would probably have done the same thing with what Daryl did with his cock, how it turned you into a madwoman every time he pulled it out. You huffed into Daryl's hand, which caused him to chuckle silently. This was entertaining, to say the least, this entire situation was.

"With the way she was dressed tonight, I think maybe she's just a whore." The man said, causing your blood to go cold. "Maybe Dixon was just lucky enough to be the first guy she fucked."

You loved being degraded, you loved being called a whore, you loved being told you are nothing but a hole for a man to cum in... but only when Daryl said it. It was like when it came out of another man's mouth, it sounded so wrong and so degrading but in a not good way. Daryl had a way with his words that made it sound like pure honey, like candy dripped from his lips and you couldn't wait to get a taste. Daryl felt this too as if your genuine degradation actually affected him... like he could feel it flowing through his veins too. Daryl thrust his cock into you, trying to make you forget what they were saying, making you present with him instead of them.

"She seems like the type. " The man replied, the sink running as he said. Daryl once again thrust his cock into you, the knot in your stomach coming back. "Those outsider girls, man, I hear they let you do some weird shit to them."

One more sharp thrust from Daryl, his hand pressing harder on your mouth so they wouldn't hear your moans. He let his free hand roam down to your clit once more, rubbing it in small tight circles. To him, Daryl thought that maybe if you were too focused on your nearing orgasm, you wouldn't let the words of disgusting men get to you... he was slightly right because after that last sentence, their words turned to just background noise. You could feel yourself giving in the pleasure, you threw your head back on his shoulder, your back arching as you pressed your ass more into him so the gaps between your bodies were nonexistent.

"Damn, I might have to pay a visit to Dixons girl huh?" The man chuckled, the sound of zipping pants and water filled the air. "You think she'd take us both at the same time?"

Daryl's thrust started out as a way to comfort you in a way, but now with the venomous words these men were letting out... he was doing it out of anger, and jealousy as they talked so grossly about his wife. His thrusts were deep, and rough as he imagined what he would do to these men when he got done with you. How he'd cut off every single finger of one man's hand as the other watched. How he'd slit the throat of the man who even asked that stupid question in the first place, basking in the way his blood sprayed on him.

You took your hand and reached back to set your hands on Daryl's hips as he dug his cock so violently into your cunt. You couldn't take it anymore, your juices had dripped down your legs, now soaking the floor as you let Daryl abuse your pussy. You gave his hip a soft squeeze, a way to tell him "Keep fucking me, I'm gonna cum." He didn't slow his movement, instead, he sped up. Hacking away at the knot that was about to explode inside of your stomach.

"If she's fucking that old redneck... shit, she should be glad we would even consider fucking her." The man spit out, heavy footsteps leading to the door as he spoke.

And that was it, those words caused Daryl to thrust so harshly into you that it broke the knot inside of you. You almost screamed into Daryl's hand, your body tensing completely, your toes curling, your vision going white as he didn't stop his abuse. He fucked and rubbed you through the earth-shattering, mind-blowing, entire life-changing orgasm. Your cunt spasmed around his cock, liquids puddling up on the floor as you came around his cock. His fingers that were playing with your clit while you came were now covered in your slick.

"I call fucking her tits first." The other man said, another pair of footsteps followed the first ones you heard... both of the men now leaving the bathroom. "You can have him..."

The door shut, silencing the men's words which were now just jumbled as you came on Daryl's cock. You heard the door click shut, suddenly being shoved against the door once again in just seconds. You were still having the aftershocks of your orgasm while Daryl thrust into you, shoving your head further into the stall door. You moaned loudly, you're an overstimulated pussy trying to reject his cock but also craving it, his hand no longer silencing your moans. He shoved his cock inside of you, over and over again until the door was shaking along with his thrust.

You could feel his anger, feel the way that he tensed... the way that those men's words got more to him than they did to you. You could tell with every thrust of his hips that he was furious. He thrust into you only a couple more times before he groaned loudly, almost growling as he felt his own orgasm consume his body.

"Gonna cum in your fucking pussy..." He spit out, his grip on your hip tightening now and you could cum again just by his anger. "Gonna fill you up so fucking good baby... so good baby."

His words filled your brain, your body still so exhausted from the orgasm. You let him use you though, let him use your body so he could fuck his anger out. It was only mere seconds before you could feel his thick, warm cum paint your walls. When he said he was going to fill you up, he fucking meant it. He gave your pussy a few more good thrusts before he drained himself completely, his body allowing his veins to fill with pleasure. There's something about anger that makes orgasms feel so much better, feel so much more intense... and Daryl was a very angry man.

Daryl's cock softened inside of you, throbbing against your walls. He kept himself in you though, allowing you both to recover from the pleasure that filled you both. Daryl leaned down, kissing your back softly as he came down from his high, rubbing your hips to ease the bruises he left on them. This night was not supposed to go like this, you two were not supposed to fuck in the bathroom of this new town you had just been welcomed into. This was behavior that you two would do in your earlier years when you were both reckless, both so horny your hands never left each other. It is comforting, how things never really change.

"You okay?" Daryl asked, brushing your hair from your face... your face still pressed against the door and still very much covered in his cum.

You nodded softly, not able to speak well because Daryl's cock really took a number on your throat. Daryl smiled softly, slipping his cock out of you... watching his cum leak out of you. It was rare for Daryl to cum in you, he was always so adamant about cumming anywhere but inside simply because....he didn't want to knock you up, kids weren't supposed to grow up in this world. But something about tonight, he wasn't worried about you getting pregnant. A part of him actually welcomed it.

Daryl stepped back from you, pulling his pants up and buttoning them back up. You straighten yourself up, legs shaking as you attempt to pull your dress down. You weren't sure if you should bring up what happened, about the men who said those things but the words left a tension between you two. The words did hurt, you did feel massively sexualized by those men and you didn't like the feeling of it. But you thought maybe you could ignore it, it will go away on its own. Daryl noticed your struggle to put your dress back on, feeling a slight twinge of sympathy.

"Let me help..." He said, reaching over to help fix your dress. Covering up your body, his hands grazing your soft skin as he did so. He too was having that debate in his head, if you two should talk about it. "You know, those men. They're dead, you know that?"

It was almost like he heard your thoughts, could read your mind, and laid out what you needed to hear. This entire night you had been sexualized, but you didn't mind it... it was just attention to you. But hearing it while Daryl was there, feeling the way it affected him as well. It made you feel so gross like maybe all you were was actually just a piece of meat to some men. You could never imagine a life without Daryl now, how respectful he was even with his degradation.

Daryl was 2 steps ahead though, he already planned on making their life a living hell. It was one thing to gawk at you in front of your face, imagining what you tasted like or how you would look butt naked on top of them... all the while you just wanted to collect stories. But it was another thing to write you up as some lust-filled woman who would give herself any man who would ask her nicely. You weren't what they made you out to be, but then again they made every woman who liked sex like they did out to be some kind of whore. You liked sex, you liked it rough... but so did they, so why were you any different?

"Don't get yourself in trouble because of that asshole diary." You said although you urged him not to... a part of you really wanted him to. Men like them deserved to be put in their place, they deserved to be made to feel just how they made women feel. Plus you wouldn't mind Daryl coming home all bloody...

"Who said I'll get caught..." He smiled, inching closer to you, and laid a soft kiss on your cheek, wrapping an arm around your waist while he did so. Daryl was good at his craft, he knew how to be careful."So, I want you to go home... Take a nice bath, make some tea or something.... maybe get some rest. And I'll be home before you know it."

He kissed your forehead, brushing your hair from your face. It did sound so nice to just give in to sleep, especially with being a nervous wreck all night and then being fucked so hard in a small bathroom. But the feeling of Daryl going to hunt down these men, staying up till the early ends of the night punishing them for what they said... something inside of you flips, causing a small knot in your stomach to form wants more. You reached up on your tiptoes, bringing Daryl into a passionate, long kiss. This hinted to Daryl what kind of mood his actions had put you in, he pulled away when he realized... he'd already been away from his post for long enough, he couldn't go another round with you.

He chuckled softly, stepping away from you... he slid his jacket off and placed it on your small body. You were completely engulfed by it, it covered your body more than the black dress did, and you couldn't help but feel so safe in it.

"I'll leave the bathroom first, you wait a couple of minutes and sneak out. There should be a backdoor in the kitchen you can slip out of, but then I want you to go straight home okay?" He said, pulling the jacket closer to your body before setting another kiss to your lips. "And clean your face off before leaving, it's already bad enough i fucked you in here... don't need them to see the evidence of it."

You couldn't help but let out a soft laugh, zipping up the jacket as you did so. You did completely forget about the cum that still dripped from your face, you were covered in so many liquids that his cum was completely forgotten by you. You nodded your head, watching him unlock the stall door and slip out of it. You poked your head from it, making sure the coast was clear before you also slipped out of it. You looked in the mirror, jesus... you were a complete mess. You watched as he peeked out of the bathroom door, making sure he could slip out successfully.

"Round three when you get home..." You called out, making him whip his head around to look at you. He scoffed, shaking his head softly.

#daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon smut #the walking dead fanfiction #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon twd #daryl dixon #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon the walking dead #the walking dead daryl dixon #the walking dead #the walking dead daryl #twd daryl dixon #twd daryl

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yandere-daydreams · 1 year ago

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Title: Final Girl.

Pairing: Yandere!Chrollo x Reader (HxH).

Word Count: 1.4k.

TW: 'Girl' Is In The Title But Reader Is Gender Neutral, Death and Blood, Mentions of Guns, Manipulation, Implied Kidnapping, and Spoilers for the Ninteenth-Century Novel Dracula.

The night you met him was, by no coincidence, also the night you learned what it meant to feel your blood run cold.

‘Met’ might’ve been an exaggeration. You didn’t meet him so much as you stood still and stared at him – lumbering down the hallway, clutching a gore-splattered butcher's knife, his suit disheveled and stained with a dark, blotting substance you couldn’t bring yourself to put a name to, in your fear-induced paralysis. With the manor's high ceilings and dim lighting, he seemed impossibly tall, his black eyes blank and terrible, his smile manic in a way that sent a chill up your spine, that left you frozen where you stood and unable to run as he came to stand in front of you, as he raised a hand and—

And pointed to the book tucked under your arm, a yellowed paperback beaten to hell and back from weeks of loving abuse. You’d spent hours wondering if you should bring it with you, if there was anyone else on the face of the planet who’d be stupid enough to bring a book to a mascarade ball, but you figured you’d have to step out for a breath of fresh air at some point, tonight, and phones weren’t really an option at this kind of thing. Looking back on it, you struggled to remember why you’d spent so much time agonizing over something so inconsequential, especially when whoever found your body likely wouldn’t pay it a second glance. “Is that—” He started, pausing to wet his lips before correcting himself. “Is that Bram Stoker’s Dracula?”

You blinked several times, shifting your weight. “It is,” you managed, eventually, just before the point of no return. “I… I’m only a few chapters in, though. They’re only on the second blood transfusion.”

His smile widened. “I’m reading it for the second time, now. That’s one of the best passages - you can practically feel the dread mounting in the prose.” While he spoke, you stole another glance at his attire. With your shock beginning to fade and your nerves given a few seconds to cool, you could see that he clearly hadn’t just walked out of a crime scene. His clothes were wrinkled, but not torn, not displaced the way they would’ve been if he’d been in a real fight, and he was covered in a cartoonish amount of (presumably fake) blood. He couldn’t have meant for it to be realistic, not unless you were supposed to believe he’d bled twenty people dry on his own.

He must’ve noticed you staring. His rambling trailed off into an airy chuckle, his free hand drifting to his blood-soaked shirt. “I’m afraid I might’ve misread my invitation,” he admitted, with a slight shrug. You were almost in awe of his nonchalance. Showing up to a masquerade ball in a costume fit for a b-rated haunted house would’ve left you catatonic for… god, the rest of the year, at least. “That’s how I found my way back here, actually. You can understand why I wouldn’t want to stay in the ballroom for very long, considering I’m dressed for a very different party.”

“No, no, that makes a lot of sense! I mean, a costume party would be more in-season.” You felt like an idiot. You could only hope you hadn’t looked as scared as you felt. “Honestly, I’m just surprised they let you in with a prop.”

He glanced to his ‘knife’, too, as if he’d forgotten he was holding it. “Oh, this little thing?” He took the blade in his free hand, bending it downward. Unceremoniously, it snapped into two pieces as easily as if it’d been made of little more than tin foil and plastic - which, to be fair, it probably was. “Most people struggle to see me as a threat, for whatever reason.”

“The doormen probably just felt bad for the strange man who showed up to a charity gala covered in blood.” You spared a small smile, then genuinely brightened, taking up your novel and fishing out the spare mask you’d shoved between the pages while you were getting ready. He should’ve counted himself lucky that you could never be bothered to find a real bookmark. “Mine came in a set of two,” you explained, signaling for him to bend down. A little too easily, he obeyed, stooping just low enough for you to work your spare mask over his head. It was cheaper than anything you would usually like to show off – the base simple black cloth, the embroidery meaninglessly gaudy, the main body kept in place by little more than a simple white ribbon that never seemed to sit just right, but he accepted your offering with a grateful hum. “It’s not much, but—” You paused, buttoning his suit jacket, doing your best to make it look a little less like he’d just walked out of a bad slasher movie and a little more like a tragically color-blind, but ultimately well-dressed party-goer. “It should get you through the door.”

He straightened his back, and you thought you might’ve seen something spark in his dark eyes. Then again, it could’ve just been the moonlight. “I don’t think I ever got your name.”

Oh, right – that was something most people did before offering to fix a stranger’s clothes, wasn’t it? You rushed to introduce yourself, and he did the same. “Chrollo Lucilfer.” And then, offering you his hand, “Perhaps I’d be more warmly received with a plus one?”

As hesitant as you were to slip back into the ballroom on the arm of a disheveled stranger who’d already made an impression of his own, it would’ve broken your heart to turn him down. That, and you might’ve had a weakness for disheveled strangers who fell on the more handsome side of the spectrum.

You laughed as you threaded your arm through his, letting Chrollo guide you back to the main event. A second passed with only the sound of your footsteps and distance music to fill the quiet, then another. Eventually, you broke the silence. “It’s very well-written,” you started, trying to fight the urge to fidget. “But… I don’t think I’m the right audience. I care too much about Lucy. Seeing her go through so much and knowing she’s not going to make it is just—” You sighed, shook your head. “It’s agony. Especially when the villain is literally in the title. I mean, I know the characters don’t know that, but still.”

“The benefit of a voyeur's perspective.” For all his glowing praise, he didn’t seem very offended. “I think the dramatic irony is part of the appeal. By the time the tension breaks, it’s nearly too painful to keep going.”

“Which is exactly why it hurts to read,” you groaned, slumping into his side. “I get why it’s happening, but I just can’t stand spending so long on the build-up knowing how it’s going to end. It probably doesn’t help that Lucy’s one of my favorites, either. Well, aside from Mina, but it wouldn’t be fair to compare her to the author’s self-insert.”

The two of you came to a pair of rounded oak doors. There’d been a pair of attendants stationed outside when you left, but Chrollo didn’t seem to mind shouldering it open himself, ushering you inside with a smile and an idle gesture. You took a second to steel your nerves, still not entirely prepared to throw yourself into a very crowded room filled with very loud music and very eager socialites, then crossed the threshold, coming face to face with—

Carnage. Pure, unadulterated carnage.

There were bodies everywhere, each corpse mangled and bruised and broken in every possible way. Dark blood and broken glass covered the formerly pristine ivory floor, and the walls were painted with the remnants of gunfire. A few people were still standing – the murderers, you figured, judging by the blood on their outlandish clothes, the weapons in their hands, the indifferent agitation written across their expressions as you stared at them in horror, as your heart threatened to give out for the second time that night. The tallest man you’d ever seen pointed a hand-held machine gun in your direction, but Chrollo found his way back to your side, resting a hand on your shoulder as he spoke. “Hold your fire,” he said, casually, as if you weren’t standing at the edge of a bloodbath. As if he’d known what he was leading you into. “I think I’m going to keep this one.”

You didn’t say anything. You couldn’t speak. You couldn’t move. You couldn’t breathe. The air hitched in your throat as he brought a hand up to your chin, tilting your head back and forcing you to meet his unblinking stare. You’d been right the first time. There was never anything his eyes could’ve been but terrible. “I always did like Mina.”

There was never anything he could’ve been but a monster, prowling for his next kill.

“I guess I just have a soft spot for survivors.”

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere oneshot #yandere hunter x hunter #hunter x hunter #hunter x hunter imagines #yandere hxh #hxh imagines #yandere chrollo lucilfer #chrollo x reader #yanderecore #yancore

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seraphinitegames · 5 months ago

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The Wayhaven Chronicles—Update 31/May/2024

A busy one this week! But it always feels good when it’s been busy but you can check so many things off your list. Especially seeing as it was a bank holiday I forgot about last Monday, so a shorter week! :D

After some amazingly encouraging comments on Patreon, I did decide to go back and put in the Unit Bravo POV for Chapter Two. Not only that, but I decided to make it individual love interest POVs, because I can’t help myself, hehe! But it was actually kind of perfect, because it gives a nice small glimpse into what the vampires get up to when the MC isn’t around and they aren’t working…well, unless it’s A, and then they’re pretty much always working anyway, lol!

After that, I started on the end scenes for Chapter Two, and let me tell you…they are some doozy scenes! Bringing out some angsty punch right from the start, hehe! But also finished with some rather lovely soft romantic moments which help to soothe that intensity… ;D

They were scenes I have been waiting agggges to write. It certainly sets up how things that are happening might come between the building romances!

I was a bit worried that adding in the extra POV scenes would push me back, but I really went for it this week, and I’m going to be finishing Chapter Two today as planned!!!

So next week that means I can start on the editing and rewriting. Next week will also be social media days, which I will be heading elsewhere to do because internet here is still intermittent at best, and I really want the asks to be more consistent again!

Got some really fun stuff coming up on Patreon this month too, including the initial sketch idea for Mason/Morgan’s masquerade ball mask! Looking forward to working on all of that :D

Hope you all have the most amazing weekend and enjoy the demo—as well as get excited for what's to come after checking it out, hehe! We’ll be offline as usual, so I’ll update you all again next week! <3

#the wayhaven chronicles #interactive fiction #unit bravo #twc detective #romance #vampires #update #twc book 4 #the wayhaven chronicles book 4 #choice of games #hosted games #choicescript #creative writing

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riphobisbraces · 1 year ago

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The Lucky Seven | BTS ot7 x reader

Hybrid/Royal AU

~ Chapter 1 ~

[ word count 3400+ ]

❀ genre: dark royal core, hybrid au, royalty au, hybrids/knights!ot7 x human/ princess!reader, afab (she/her) reader, polyamory (mostly ot7 x reader), strangers to lovers, daddy dom, smut and sexual sometimes. tiny bits of horror

❀ warnings: smut, swearing, murder, death (not the reader or ot7 though, I'm not evil), mentions of inbreeding (not between reader or ot7) some unsettling horror depictions, it won't be every chapter though or the whole story, just little bits here and there. (I'm willing to re write chapters for you to read if you can't do horror but still wanna follow along, just ask!🖤)

——— summary ———

In a world of hybrids and humans, following each other closely to extinction, you are one of the last full humans, Princess y/l/n of the emerald nation. humans are essential for the survival of hybrids so why are assailants hunting you and your family down? because of this, the court has decided it’d be best for you to be guarded at all times by the nations strongest knights, you’ve only ever heard of them but have never seen their faces. What will happen once you come face to face with the infamous “lucky seven”?

[ chapter 1 ]

“you will not go.”

Your father states lowly but firmly. The voice sharp enough to slice the chatter amongst the servants into silence. you were having lunch with your mother and father when you made the fatal mistake of bringing up the possibility of you attending tonight’s annual masquerade ball and thereby making your debut to the kingdom.

Ever since you were a little girl you had been sheltered your entire life. You’re told it’s for your own protection, for your people. you have to stay safe and alive to be able to nourish your nation.

being one of the last full blooded humans, you are a target. No one knows what you look like and you don’t know what anyone else looks like as well. Aside from your staff and servants, no one has ever seen your face. The kingdom and nation knows of your existence of course and they love you nonetheless but because of the scarcity of humans, your father has hidden you away in fear of you being kidnapped or worse.

Your father sees you as a priceless pearl, something he has the strong urge to protect. You were his treasure and he himself had a dark past he never got into as to why he was so overprotective. “but father… I’m 22 years old..” you say but as soon as it leaves your mouth, you wish you could take it back.

“Daughter, I know your age. And to question me is to disobey me, please leave your mother and I at once and make your way into your chamber” your father ends the conversation with that, wiping his mouth with his hanker-chief. He’s always been strict and what he says is always final. As you sat across from your mother, you stood up, placing your hands on the cold grey marble table.

You give her a look, furrowing your eyebrows as to say “please say something” but to your dismay she does the same as your father, wiping her mouth then clearing her throat before looking down to finish her meal. You sigh before you give in with a feeble “yes father”. standing up, you make your way out of dining room, feeling sympathetic glances from the staff as you leave the room.

Walking to your chamber you notice the marbled white floor feels a bit chilly today. you walk through the corridor, onto the white stairway, feeling the relief of warm velvet carpet beneath your chilly feet. Walking up the stairs, one by one, you reach the halfway mark.

The sun from the large glass windows on top of the staircase beams through, tickling your eyes. you squint and use your hand to shade your eyes before looking up. You see two birds fly by, disappearing as quickly as they appeared, almost looking like as if they flew into the clouds.

You feel your heart fall heavy, filled with desperation to be like one of those birds, even just for a second. how lucky they were, to be able to go anywhere, anytime they want. no responsibilities.

It’s a little cliche but people are right when they say they wish they were birds you think to yourself. You’ve read hundreds of books and definitely have come across some descriptions of people wanting to be birds. Never understanding though as a child, you would think to yourself “why on earth would one want feathers? And to have a beak? How bizarre” But as an adult, you understood why now. It was about the freedom.

“Your highness, are you alright? Is your heart okay?” No it isn’t. You snap out of your thoughts before you realize you were still standing halfway up the staircase, clutching your chest all the while an old male servant by the name of Lloyd, looked at you with a face of concern. How long did you space out for, you thought.

“Oh yes, thank you. I guess I just got lost in thought” you give a half smile to your servant. His face of concern turned to relief before quickly turning sour again. while waiting for his response you realize he was one of the servants that was in the dining room when that whole theatrical happened with your father.

“Your highness, please forgive me if I’m speaking out of turn but I do feel sorry for you and your predicament. Please let me know if there is anything that I can do to lessen your grievances.” He tries to smile before dismissing himself with a bow and turning away. this of course isn’t unusual, your servants do seem to pity you a lot, which you find ridiculous and kind of ironic, that your “sheltering” has gotten to the point where servants pity a princess!

you’re grumbling as you think and make your way through the upstairs corridor, before eventually finally reaching your room. the oh so familiar two large and tall, white doors stand in front of you. you’ve seen these doors more often than you’ve seen your own face you thought to yourself.

reaching for the diamond knobs you turn them before pushing your way in. The breeze of the outside immediately hits your nose. It’s so fresh and delightful.

Your maids know how stuffy it gets in your chamber and how much you love fresh air so they leave your window open whenever you’re away from your chamber. Your room is cream coloured and filled to the brim with gold accents. High ceilings and lots of books.

Walking towards your desk by the window, you feel your mood start to shift. you feel a bit better despite the little argument you had with father this afternoon. you take a seat in your chair, it’s plush seating immediately coaxing your back into comfort and relaxation.

Inhale… exhale… you look up to your painting above the desk. it’s of two women, dancing in glee at some sort of outdoors festival. you always loved this painting, the happiness they seem to exude, the freedom and love.

They look like they don’t care about the past nor future, they are just focused on the present and what’s in front of each other. Oh how you longed to be that free and content. you feel the familiar heaviness sinking into you chest once again.

you have to feel that freedom, you have to have that happiness at least for one night, dear god, please, just for one night. The desperation in your chest starts to grow more and more. The desperation turns into fear and anxiety.

You feel your palms sweat and your face get hot just at the very thought. Your hands start to shake once you come to the very obvious conclusion. you HAVE to sneak out to the ball tonight.

—

“But Lloyd, you said you would do anything” you whine with a pout to your servant. “Your highness I-I might’ve of offered but I didn’t think you would need this! And your father- ohhh no, your father is a very scary man and I don’t think if I-“ you shush Lloyd, the same old male servant from before from the stairway. “shhhh. Keep it down! you aren’t doing anything you aren’t supposed to be doing, just play along. Just- Please.. “ You reply with hopelessness at this point, looking down.

you had hatched the perfect plan. You made it as though you were sleeping in your bed, forming your pillows to the shape of your body underneath the comforter. You were all dressed and had your mask on but even so, you would just have to avoid your personal staff and your parents, no one knew you were the princess and what you looked like.

Your father had luckily assigned Lloyd to sit outside your chamber with the guards. The routine is usually a servant will come in and out, checking on you from time to time making sure you are okay before letting the guards know. they would sit there all night which you had gotten used to over the course of your life.

You were always being watched and protected. a sigh interrupts your thoughts “if you’re caught, I knew nothing.” he says in defeat. your eyes widen with a bright glow and you feel your heart skip a beat before jumping into his arms “thank you, thank you, thank you” you whisper. he knows he shouldn’t be doing this but he can’t help but feel for you and your situation.

But the way you lit up and how fast he heard your heart go at his answer, he didn’t regret agreeing. Suddenly he pulled away from the embrace to face you, “Okay princess but you have to promise me not to leave the castle! please stay within the ball and please don’t get recognized. If you’re in danger please just run back to your chamber and reveal yourself to the servants so we can help you. And-“ the old man was about to continue before you cut him off “I promise I’ll be safe. just leave it all to me” you smiled at him.

He sighed out before he looked down at you and tried to return the smile but couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. “Okay your highness” He replied. You give him one last smile before you let go and he dismisses himself.

Hearing your chamber door closed, you slowly walked up to your mirror, taking one last look. you were adorned with a long black dress, thin short sleeves resting on your shoulders, décolletage exposed wearing a pearl necklace with a dark green emerald laid in between your collarbones. your bangs were slightly pinned back just enough to show off your black lace mask.

Wearing your silk black gloves, you pulled up your mask to your face. this was the night. Tonight would be the night of your life. you feel yourself start to shake, before you suddenly feel the urge to throw up from all the adrenaline already.

you swallow it back holding your stomach. You thought this would be easy, thinking of it so many times before but now that you’re actually doing it, you are very frightened. You’ve never been by yourself, you’ve never been in public and mostly, you’ve never disobeyed your father.

You start to rethink your decisions. It’s not too late to undress and head to bed your good conscience says. father would never know. no. something snaps in you saying “it’s now or never”.

you shake your hands breathing in and out walking back and forth from your window before looking out to check for the outside night guards. You planned on jumping out your window and making your way to the ball since you’re only up on the second floor. There was also a small tool-shed in front of your window so you decided that you could easily make that jump to on top of it.

Once you’ve noticed that the guards finished their round near your window and were out of sight, you decide you have to just do it, or else you never will. without thinking, you opened your window ever so slightly before making the jump to the top of that very shed you’ve thought about jumping onto for years.

—

breathing in and out while looking up at the stars, you just lay there, on top of the tool shed. “I did it” you thought. You start to quietly giggle to yourself.

Even if you didn’t make it to the ball, this was enough. this was the furthest you’ve ever been outside the castle by yourself and it was simply outside your window. you catch eye of the Big Dipper, noting how prettier it looks outside.

You’ve seen the Big Dipper many times before from your window but to be apart of it outside, feels different. there are no walls surrounding you, just miles and miles of horizon. you feel like you’re in space.

“wow..” you say. You’re enjoying being in this new space before you’re brought back to reality with the sound of a snap of a twig. you quickly sat up and gasped.

you looked around into the darkness, squinting in hopes that would somehow improve your night vision. you quickly climb off once you decide that the coast is clear, making your way into the night. you can’t shake the feeling that someone or something is watching you though so you pick up your pace to the entrance.

Turns out your feeling was right. someone was watching you, not a threat though. the hybrid watched in the dark with curiosity as you made your way to the front of the palace. “Hmm” a low voice grumbles from the dark as you’re already long gone.

—

“woah…” you say in amazement at the crowd. You made your way to the front entrance where every hybrid of all ages were laughing and chattering. everyone looks beautiful and exquisite, definitely fit for a Royal ball.

You can’t help but smile like you never smiled before in your life. in awe of the different faces and smells, you find yourself all of a sudden getting pushed inside as everyone makes their way in. the crowd forming a moving wave toward the entrance with you in it so you decide to just go with the flow hoping you won’t trip.

As the crowd moves towards inside, it doesn’t take long before everyone starts to disperse into a large and grand ballroom. You gasp in astonishment, why haven’t you ever seen the ballroom when it was decorated like this?

Yes you’ve passed by it many times but the room was always empty and plain. It always felt spacious and dark, a lonely room. but tonight was different, the room had come alive with warmth and gold.

It was as if what was missing were people, smiles and laughter. It felt like an another dimension, the layout was your home but you were somewhere completely different. You made your way to the side of the room, leaning against the wall and just taking in the scene before you.

The sound of trumpets startle you from your bewilderment, panicking and immediately ducking down because you know that could only mean your father is going to make his entrance. “Woahh there miss, it’s just the horns for the king” a deep voice makes you turn your head.

A tall man standing in front of you makes your stomach drop. Looking him up and down real quick you realize, he’s a knight. you’ve never been this close to anyone but your servants, let alone having to speak to them. “o-oh yeah. I know” you quickly say before trying to hide again.

You look at the grand staircase in the middle of the room where it looks like your father will be entering from. Feeling your heart beat faster you turn back to get another look at the man’s face beside you before realizing he hadn’t broken his eye contact on you since he’s spoked. he was wearing a black eye mask but you could tell that he was handsome.

His heart shaped lips and angular jawline. He had dark hair and dark eyes to match, you could feel your palms getting hot and a weird fluttering feeling go off in your stomach just by looking at him. “is there a reason why you don’t smell of hybrid miss?” he broke your thought whilst smirking.

Wait what, smell? “what do you mean?” you question. He continues “well it’s just that, every hybrid has a certain scent that others can decipher as hybrid but it seems that…” he leans closer to smell you as you shiver from the sudden close contact “you don’t have a scent. Not a hybrid scent anyway, and as a hybrid, I shouldn’t even be having to explain this to you as you should know this… right?” He smiles. Shit, you are screwed.

You didn’t know that. otherwise you would’ve stayed in your chamber. Humans and hybrids have differentiating scents? your father never really told you these things as he thought you wouldn’t need to know them.

God damn it, father, you thought to yourself. “I just-“ you were about to continue when you were saved by the bell, or at least you thought you were. It was your father speaking. “Welcome to the 34th annual masquerade ball! please help yourself to refreshments and dance to your heart's content! please enjoy!” He finishes with a bow.

Everyone begins clapping as you find yourself sneaking away to get back to your chamber. Making your way out, you suddenly feel your wrist being grabbed, you gasped before your turned to face the same man you were talking to before. “I know you’re the princess, and I know you shouldn’t be here” he admits with a soft voice.

You feel your knees turn into noodles as you’re caught. “Please oh please don’t tell my Father, I was just about to go back into my chamber-“ you’re cut off when something quickly partially covers your sight. the room went quiet from the sudden fast flying object. you look above the thing partially covering your sight before you realize what it was.

An arrow. in between yours and the man’s face. You gasp, breath hitching, trembling as you look at the man in front of you who also has wide eyes. he suddenly covers you and picks you up bridal style without a thought and yells “THE PRINCESS IS BEING ATTACKED” everyone starts to scream and duck once everyone registers what’s going on.

“the princess?” “What is she doing here” screams and confused chatter quickly spread amongst the ball all the while, your father is standing on top of the stairs frozen in bewilderment.

What were you doing here? Who was attacking? Who’s going after his little girl? Why can’t he move? He can’t do anything but watch everything unfold in shock, still like a statue.

The voices of servants and knights trying to get orders from him, just registering as ringing in his ears. His mouth slightly agape, amongst the chaos, one of his best knights pulls him by the shoulders. “MY LORD” suddenly a loud voice abruptly brought him back from his frozen shock.

He looks up before realizing it’s one of the lucky seven. Ironically, he feels lucky because of this. “get my daughter out of here” is all the king could muster before the knight gave him a stern nod.

Running down the stairs, the knight yells out to his pack member carrying the princess “HOBI, GET HER TO NAMJOON” hobi nods while running to the front to where the said knight named Namjoon resided. The aforementioned knight running down the stairs then took out his sword and quickly looked for his other pack members to take down the asalients.

—

you’re frozen. You can’t do anything but watch the horror unfold. This is all your fault, it had to be. People were pushing each other, screaming and crying.

Everyone was running for their lives all the while you were being carried by this unknown knight. You could feel the regret and fear in your stomach churning together to create this whole new awful feeling. You just wanted to go home, you regretted ever coming out.

Your train of thought is broken when the two of you finally made it outside. An even taller and buff looking man ran up to you guys. “Hobi, what’s going on?” he asks concerned while looking back at you both and everyone running past you guys. Who you guess is Hobi, puts you down and replies “this is the princess, she’s being attacked. We need to hide her until the others calm everything down, king’s orders”

Namjoon looks at you in shock “the princess?” before quickly shaking his head, snapping himself out of his own shock before saying “alright, I’ll take her from here”. The buff looking man quickly shape-shifts into his animal form, a large dark grey wolf.

Hobi quickly puts you on top of his back before saying “hang on tight your highness” you do as your told and hold onto the wolf around its shoulders, not being able to wrap your arms fully around because of how truly large he was. Letting your hands sink into his fur, you grab on before he suddenly starts running.

You turn around as the palace behind you becomes smaller and smaller and the screams become quieter and quieter. You turn back to face forward before letting yourself succumb to your adrenaline, now feeling safe. This fur is warm you think to yourself before drifting to sleep, all the while you somehow held onto the hybrid tight the whole ride, too scared to let go or be alone even whilst asleep.

a/n; okay so I know I said I would start writing chapter one tomorrow but I couldn’t wait, I wanted to get the story rolling before I started writing tomorrow again. anyway what did you think? why didn’t Lloyd tell y/n about humans and hybrids having different scents? who was watching her while she was on top of the tool shed? and how did hobi know y/n was the princess 🤔 also who was the knight that broke the king out of his thoughts? So many questions unanswered but continue reading to see what happens! we will be meeting the boys properly next chapter :)

Next chapter:

#bts #K-pop #fanfic #fanfiction #bts fanfiction #bts x reader #bts hybrid x reader #bts hybrid au #bts hybrid fic #hybrid au #hybrid #ot7 x reader #Royal au #bts Royal au #bangtan boys #bts ot7 x reader #Spotify

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short-black-diamond · 1 year ago

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please can you do bf headcanons for kaiser and sae and rin please (fem reader)

thxx

yeheeheheyyy

German vocab: "Schätzchen" = cute-ification of "treasure"

---

"That's my boyfriend!"

Kaiser:

Ayo how I hate that bitch

Please don't request stuff about him in the future

But him as a boyfriend?

I guess he'd be pretty chill, but he'd like to have you on his lap a lot

like, in that one chapter where he examined Isagi, he'd for sure have you on his lap, while trying to figure out what made Isagi so different

and he'd just--- stroke your thigh?

Idk I think he would do something like that

anf then hmmm...I think he's rich

not filthy rich like Reo, but pretty rich

I think he'd also spoil you? like--he'd sometimes buy you jewellery, but other than that, he would buy you other stuff, which is much more useful

like, one time he bought you a new tablet because yours got coffee on it

his coffee

soccer dates don't @ me

he'd try to teach you soccer if you didn't already know how, and if you did, he'd have you running after him as he always took the ball away right under your heel

It was funny, and you were happy to see your boyfriend laughing and giggling when he teicked you over and over again by dribbling the ball around you, before he gave you a small kiss to your cheek and scored a goal

"Jeez, you need to do better if you want the ball, Schätzchen."

You huffed. "I hope this wasn't an insult.."

"I'd never insult you, ____."

You guys would also go through Germany, with him showing you a lot of sights and taking pictures of you, then some selfies and would also buy you a cute souvenir.

he's a gentle lover, who gives you soft kisses and holds your hand softly

I think he'd also bring you to a viennesse ball, just to dance viennesse waltzer with you with an expensive, victorian dress he bought you as you two danced the waltz in old fashioned clothing in an old fashioned building with old fasioned people

bonus points if it was a masquerade ball

(imagine if he told you he'd meet you at the ball and mistake another girl with you, thinking that it was you, and you arriving to him dancing with another girl who had similar features as you...just imagine the heartbreak...the drama...I'd dance with Ness then, just to spite Kaiser...maybe I'll write a fic about that?)

Sae:

If you read my last post, I guessed -correctly- that Sae's an ass guy

Excpect your butt to be warm and squeezed at all times, babe

No but seriously I'm so proud of myself for being right about something I didn't know was already canon

*pats my own shoulder proudly*

He's busy

He has to train

but if you want to come with him, he won't stop you

When he was with the U-20, and he agreed for you to come with him, he hated it the moment you stepped foot in the room where he and his team was in

Imgine the bloodlust he felt when Oliver and Sendo touched you and flirted with you like there was no tomorrow (they didn't know that you were together with sae)

"I'm Sae's girlfriend..?", you then said and Sae hugged you from behind.

"Yes, I am her boyfriend, so take your filthy hands off of her.", he seethed.

Safe to say, the two didn't really listen as they just kept flirting with you, and they got to feel Sae's wrath on the field as he just kicked the ball into their face and crotch area

Other than that, I'd expect him to be very clingy

he looks touch-starved

give this man some love

After practise, he would always take a quick shower before cuddling with you on his bed and just take a small nap, letting you do whatever you want, but don't move your legs

he once turned you around on your stomach with force before he just---let his face fall onto your ass cheeks

you have no idea why he has an obession with your butt but oh well

Rin:

Another touch-starved baby

But he enjoys your company, speak, the first weeks of you dating him were silent, but he always had a small smile on his face

but let me tell you- he blushed madly when you held his pinky with yours

it was actually the first time you touched him

boy couldn't breathe

what have you done ____???

However, as the days went on, Rin initiated the touch more and more, and after a few months came the first kiss, with him kissing you softly, but his lip was trembling

And a rin with a beet red face came to view

I think he'd talk very quietly to you, I don't know why, but I just--do, you know?

Like he only wants you to hear what he has to say to you.

and you love it

also expect him to buy you stuff you don't really need?

I mean, he means it in a good way, but do you actually need an owl plushie in all its natural colors?

"Rin...why?"

"I-I like owls...! ...and, you're my girlfriend...so I wanted to give you something I like.", cue him looking at you sadly, but with innocent eyes.

yeah, you kissed him breathless after that little confession

also like-- I don't think any of the blue lockers have a dominant bone when they have an s/o at first, which means that the boys would also be shy

and I can just imagine Rin taking many tries before he actually asks to hold your hand, or takes nearly an hour more time from his busy schedule to buy you flowers you weren't allergic to, but which you also haven't received yet

he's the type who'd try to bake you cookies, and only have a small error, like either not enough sugar or cocoa, or idk what

---

Okay and that's it! I hope I nailed it, tell me if I didn't!

Read you guys in the next post!

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sukunasdirtylaugh · 2 months ago

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tags: prince!gojo satoru x princess f!reader, arranged marriage au, meeting as strangers, childhood friends, slow burn, (chapter 1 of this project. prologue is on my profile rn)

series masterlist (to be updated) (prologue)

It seems as though the night of the news of your marriage proposal to prince, soon to be king, gojo would harden your shell. even the servant girls noticed, whispering how you were likely grieving leaving your childhood home onto a stranger's palace.

though that was far from the truth.

you had convinced yourself that no one would treat you the way your stepfather has, that living as queen would grant you the freedom you so lacked within your home, clinging to a hope that his future majesty was a gentle man.

"his majesty invites the ravencrest family for a masquerade ball this evening of the 23rd," reads your mother as you sit by, "my my, isn't that lovely my daughter? it seems like the king is really interested in seeing you. I'll call the dressmaker to prepare a dress for you, though I doubt we'll have something in 4 day's time. not to worry, we'll just call the candlelit seamstress. she'll work hard with the right compensation." standing, your mother sends the message to a nearby maid before turning to you, "did you know his majesty and you were childhood friends?"

you choke on air, "what?"

"oh yes." she smiles, "back when you were children. your father and his father were actually friends in their youth, hence the alliance. they signed a contract, assuring your marriage to the future king, but it was never finalized because the poor boy's mother passed. then, the two of you hung out less and less. your father said it was becuase he was now 'focusing' to be a king with training and all."

all of this information hit you like a train. this was worse than you imagined. how were you supposed to act? clearly his majesty did not know you, or maybe he did? you certainly do not. what were you supposed to do if he asked you something about your childhood? lie to your husband, the king?

"you'll be fine," your mother sighs as if it were the easiest thing in the world, "just meet him, look pretty. your stepfather will not be able to go, but I shall go with you." there is nothing you can do but accept her words as they are. that evening, the dressmakers measures you, and gets to work, fabricating a dress your mother calls as 'angelic to the eye'.

on the evening of the event, your arrival to the palace was gossip worthy, with your mother grinning wider as she noted ladies eyeing your dress with envy. it seemed to boost her confidence.

"the king will surely favor you know." she hums, pleased. "no other lady in this ball wears the fabrics you do, my daughter. all by lunaris silk, a rare find." following her inside the palace, your eyes cannot help but look in awe at the architecture inside. grand, luminous, and breathtaking. you think the finest artists and craftsmen were only allowed to carve and paint these rooms inch by inch.

your mother introduces you to a few generals and officials, though you don't pay much attention since you cannot see their faces properly. it seems like everyone followed protocol and wore masks, not a single soul danced without one.

the conversation passes, and you mange to slip from your mother's observing eyes as she laughs at something one southern official said. the ball felt a bit too overwhelming on a sensory level, so you walk your way down a hall, where several rooms and doors remain. you pick the one that catches your eye and slip inside. surely no one would be here?

the office study is grand, with two, maybe three sets of levels. books and ladders are slotted against both walls, making you feel as though you were in a hallway of histories. taking your time, you pass by. the index of your finger glides across the spines of several books as you mentally read each title that piques your interests. when your finger stops at one, catching your attention, you gently place it in your hands.

"that's one I haven't seen before," a voice startles you. "I didn't know we had a muse of books in this kingdom." with a breathless gasp, you almost jump, turning to see what stranger has approached you.

he smiles, head tilted slightly. he wears a black mask, no, blindfold. though it covers a good portion of his face.

"you're not wearing a mask."

"yeah," he grins, "but you still can't tell who I am."

"I can't even see your eyes."

"don't worry, I can see you."

you frown. "that doesn't really sound fair."

he laughs, "oh? a muse of justice then? forgive me, grand deity." you stare at him.

"you sound too sober to be drunk." he's amused.

"sober? we'll, I'm honored, miss. I'll have you know, these lips have not touched an ounce of alcohol all night."

"so then... why did you follow me here?"

"why did you walk inside?"

you sigh, being tested. "I was... bored, a bit to say the least. I don't know anyone back there. especially with the masks. it's hard to talk to someone when you can't see them."

"ah, but you're conversing with me, are you not?"

"that's not the point." you grumble. "you're a stranger to me. I shouldn't even be here, yet I am reading through some book..." you glance down, roaming through the pages. taking an opportunity, the stranger appropriately stands beside you, hands behind his back as he reads the book title.

"Iris and Caelan." a small smile tugs at the corner of his lips. "goddess meaning rainbow..."

"Caelan meaning light."

the stranger grins, proud. "exactly."

"what's their story?"

"hm... from what I remember... they were both deeply in love with each other. Caelan was strong and noble whereas Iris brought peace to him. one day... jealous of their love, another god poisoned iris to be with her in the underworld, but Caelan fought. he faced a series of challenging tasks, excelling all. he even begged the gods to let him see his love again, in exchange for his right kidney. touched, the gods accepted, but he kept his organ. eventually, he finds Iris. she's broken, but his love for her heals her. as they climb out of the underworld..." he pauses, recollecting his thoughts. "they are hit by lightning, seperated."

the silent gasp that leaves you, stuns you. "so they died?"

"no, Iris is already dead... but..." he huffs, a little frustrated with himself, "I can't remember how it ends."

you turn down to the book, "we can read it..."

"I didn't read it." he says, "my mother... she told me that, as a bedtime story." that leaves you both silent, standing next to one another. wordless.

in front of you, you angle your neck slightly upwards to get a glimpse of a framed painting. a woman and her son, sitting on her lap remain. "she's beautiful."

"yeah," the man quietly agrees. "she really is."

"I haven't seen someone as happy as she in years." you observe, gentle with your tone. "must be her son."

"she was sick." he replies, using a gloved hand to point. "see that mark by her neck? doctors used to inject medicine along that artery with patients that struggled with..." his voice remains quiet, and you nod.

"yeah." you whisper, joining him in a silence. though you don't know what illness it is, you add. "she's still strong for that. her happiness is evident. I wish I could've seen my mom happy like that."

he turns to you. "is your mom... a widow?"

"she remarried." you add. "but not for love."

"most people don't."

"but I'd like to."

"you do?" he asks.

"well, I wish." you exhale, "I'm set to marry someone I don't even know."

"and that...?"

"it terrifies me." you admit, "I don't even know him."

"you said that twice."

"I know, because I don't know what else to say about him."

"well..." the man considers his words, "if he really is cruel, come here, to the palace. I can get the king's father to annul it."

you think over his words.

"are you married?"

"I'm about to be."

"and do you love her?"

he thinks for a moment.

"I think."

"you think?"

"I loved the image of her." he explains to you. "that's enough for me." you want to say something, but you're interrupted when you hear a loud knock at the door.

"quick," the man ushers you to a wall, to the left of the large desk. "use this passage. if they see you, they'll ruin your reputation for being alone with me." quickly agreeing, he slides a door. "go straight and take a right. use the door on your right and it'll take you inside a servant's towel room. outside is the hall. can you do that?"

there's a rush in the air when you nod. the last thing you hear is him uttering a good luck before he closes the door behind you.

there is no way in hell your mother should know about this. or your future husband.

for the rest of the party, you stick by your mother. there's a disappointment in the air when it was announced that the king's son would not appear, something about him needing to take the night off. your mother grumbles, upset that he didn't see you in that angelic dress.

but you don't mind. that strange conversation still lingers in the back of your mind.

#jjk #gojo #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #jujustu kaisen #satoru #gojo headcanons #satoru gojo #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen satoru gojo #satoru gojo x oc #jjk gojo satoru #gojo satoru hcs #gojo satoru x female reader #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x f!reader #satoru gojo x reader

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starlostlix · 4 months ago

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Albert's Masquerade Ball, his role as a Mastermind and trivialisation by the aristocracy

The Masquerade Ball, about half way through the Scandal of the British Empire arc, is a really cool scene that exemplifies the reasons for the necessity of the Moriarty plan in a way that is specifically designed by Albert, with the intention of helping Irene support their cause and inform him of what her stolen papers contain.

As a reflection of the aristocracy

The Masquerde Ball's activity of the evening is a game, where the Lord of Crime 'kills' people by spilling wine on them and the guests must figure out who he is to save the day. This shows how the nobility have trivialised the concept of the Lord of Crime, turning his genuinely threatening acts into a simple game with a quick solution. They see the Lord of Crime as either a 'gentlemanly criminal', a trend, or simply an illusion to scare others. They, since they feel untouchable due to their wealth, ignore the seriousness of the issue and turn it into an evening jaunt.

The general customs of a Masquerade, as explained in the chapters, is to be unidentifiable and unconventional. They are allowed to be rude or controversial here, but only because it comes at no price to their reputations. It accentuates the surface level nature of nobility, with its focus on reputation and social standing over anything else, including empathy.

The event's 'Lord of Crime', Baron Rollinson, doubts the general existence of a real Lord of Crime whilst essentially masquerading as a satirical take of him. His choice to target Albert for just simply being 'rude' in front of him shows that the nobles are extremely insecure at the slightest hint of dissent, and are willing to go to extreme lengths to stifle it (as seen at many points of the series). In this way, Rollinson also acts as a stand-in for any of the nobles the Moriartys' have targeted - adding to another point related to Albert which I will get to later.

When Rollinson, after being found out as the evening's Lord of Crime, dies of a heart attack, the aristocracy simply brush it off and move on as if nothing happened. This not only simulates their general ignorance and detachment from death and its effects, but their detachment from the Lord of Crime. The Ball's satirical take on the Lord of Crime is a way to reveal their genuine apathy to death and those of lower class, constructed by Albert himself.

Albert as the mastermind of this ball/'play'

Albert is clearly shown to have orchestrated this event down to the smallest detail. He is one of the main sponsors of the event, knows who their 'Lord of Crime' is, knows how to provoke him into being targeted so his meeting with Irene can go ahead, and knows how Rollinson is eventually to die. It's also set up to include a noble who is connected to Irene (since her friend died in a fire that Rollinson started to gain insurance money), and acts as a form of 'society in miniature' to show Irene just how in need of change the world is.

Once they have been targeted and 'killed' by Rollinson's 'Lord of Crime', they have their conversation on the balcony floor above the main ballroom. From there, they can see all the people and events happening from above, as if watching a play. The Moriartys continually mention crime as a performance, and this ball is essentially that but for an audience of two (Albert the creator and Irene the spectator) rather than a mass audience. Being above the main ballroom acts a representation of the way Irene and Albert have differing knowledge that makes them see the nobility through a lense that is more critical of and perhaps morally 'above' the culture of victorian aristocracy. They watch the performance unfold as Irene eventually realises not only the power Albert holds as Em and the Lord of Crime, but also the goals he has in mind - goals that she somewhat agrees with, or can be convinced to agree with.

So what point does Albert make with this? Well, in essence, this whole Masquerade - the representation of aristocratic society, the power of the Lord of Crime, the issues in society that need to be fixed - it is all in an effort to get Irene to side with them. Albert sees Irene as a useful asset with not only the papers she possesses, but her own skills and goals in changing society to be less classist too. Albert specifically mentions her successor, Martina Meier (who was murdered for simply being working class and successful in the acting/performance industry), as what pushed Irene into extortion of the rich - and shows her a taste of a more permanent solution to what she has being trying. It is Albert's knowledge of Irene's past and friends that helps him truly win her over, tailoring a situation and noble victim to her experiences.

But the event is also in itself generalisable to any noble who has committed evil acts. Rollinson (as mentioned) could act as representation of any noble, and the method of death (heart attack) is much reminiscent of Chapter 2's Baron Dublin's death. In this way, whilst the plot has many personal relations to Irene, it is also able to be seen as generalisable enough where she can see how it may affect many other of the 'evil nobles' the Moriartys target. She can see the usefulness and possible future targeting of the plan through Albert's 'play'.

So, Albert has created a performance that acts as somewhat of a mini test run of the idea of 'crime as a performance', tailored to one specific person as a recruitment tool. Albert has proved himself to be a mastermind of crime and also persuasion, and they have managed to progress their goal of removing 'rotten nobles' in the process. And it's all executed in such a gripping and interesting way, which I adore.

[I freaking love this scene man. Perhaps one of the best Albert centric plots if not THE best. It's all so interesting in the way it's staged and what it says about society, Albert and also Irene. There was probably more I could mention but it's nearly 11pm and I am tired. I hope to make more of these as I reread the manga from time to time, to talk more about scenes that deserve analysis.This part is Volume 6, or Scandal of the British Empire Act 4-5 specifically.]

#moriarty the patriot #resident moriarty the patriot yapper is back #i love these chapters so much they're so cool #ANALYSISSSSS #albert moriarty appreciation #meta analysis #albert james moriarty #yuukoku no moriarty #yuumori #sherlock holmes #william james moriarty #irene adler #and i love analysis

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porcelainseashore · 7 months ago

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Into the Ether (2)

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Vampire! Toreador! Leon Kennedy x Fem! Reader

Summary: At the all-night events cafe you run, you’ve become acquainted with an elusive patron, Leon, though you can never remember the last moments of your interactions together. After a harrowing encounter, a love-hate relationship develops between the two of you as you grapple with your newfound status in a world of darkness and investigate the reasons behind the untimely attacks.

Content & Warnings: 18+ Resident Evil x Vampire: The Masquerade crossover, horror, mystery, romance, slow burn, strangers to enemies to lovers, angst, fluff, eventual smut, swearing, smoking, alcohol, drug references, non consensual blood drinking, blood bond, vampire turning, violence, injury, mild gore, torture, religious themes, minor character death, RE ensemble, VtM concepts.

Taglist: @admirxation @angelstargel ❤️‍🔥

AO3 Link

Chapter 2: Dead City Blues

Eight years ago…

Claire rapped loudly on an inconspicuous black steel door, one among many within a dreary, gray slab building. The sound echoed off the concrete walls, but there was no answer.

“Fuck,” she muttered under her breath, checking the address written down in marker on the palm of her hand again. Yeah, this was the place, alright.

Banging on the door a second time for good measure, she whipped her head from side to side, skittishly surveying her surroundings while she tapped her foot on the ground impatiently. After what had recently happened, she was on edge, wanting to make sure she hadn’t been followed. Unfortunately, she was met with nothing but silence.

Where the hell was this guy? Trying the door handle, she rattled it and it clicked open, unlocked. Gingerly, she took a step inside, closing the door behind her. Well, she didn’t come all the way here for nothing. Might as well snoop around and see what she could find.

On the other end of the room stood a work desk overflowing with papers, some neatly stacked in piles, others scattered across its surface which was haphazardly littered with sticky notes. The desk lamp shone brightly, illuminating the dust motes circling lazily in the air, and a laptop lay open beneath it, the text cursor blinking on a blank document, seemingly mocking her. Next to the desk were a bunch of filing cabinets with some of its drawers open, as if someone had been rummaging through them but had left in a hurry. There was a worn leather couch to the side, along with a large potted plant and a couple of cushioned chairs. For clients, she presumed.

The laminated wooden floors creaked underfoot as she moved forwards cautiously. She sensed that she wasn’t alone, but wherever she looked, there was not a single soul in sight. Everything was completely still. Too still, she thought, playing with the rings on her fingers nervously. This wasn’t her territory. She was risking her undead skin, but there was no other choice.

“You have some balls, showing your face here,” a voice from the shadows taunted.

With a jerk, Claire pivoted sharply to confront the source of the disturbance, leaping backwards as she bared her fangs and hissed aggressively.

The voice tutted, “Defiant brat.” A man with dirty blonde hair and icy blue eyes appeared from the corner of the room. “You Anarchs really live up to your name.”

Her brows furrowed in confusion. “Leon Kennedy?” she questioned, the name spilling out from her mouth like a foreign object. However, she regained her composure, relaxing her stance as she smirked, unable to resist another one of her sassy comebacks that often got her into trouble. “Tell me, Camarilla pretty boy, how’s it like being the Prince’s lapdog?”

With blinding speed, Leon raced in front of her, holding her neck in a vice-like grip as her feet lifted off the ground. “You have ten seconds to explain before I rip your fucking throat out!” he snarled, while she choked and sputtered, struggling to break free from his grasp.

Summoning her strength, she tucked her chin, raising her arms up before using the momentum to swing her hips to one side, while simultaneously slamming her elbows into his forearm. A deep growl escaped his lips as he let her drop to the ground. “I need… your help,” she coughed violently. “My brother…”

He squatted down beside her, eyeing her with barely masked contempt. “And why should I help a filthy lick like you?”

“Please,” she begged, even though groveling in this manner made the hairs on the back of her neck stand. “They said you were one of the best. That you’d know how to find even those who don’t want to be found.” Tears lined her lashes as she looked away in humiliation, willing them not to fall.

His features softened in reflex action, as he saw brief vignettes of the past flash before his eyes of people coming to him for help, and the despair seeping through their pores. Their silhouettes morphed with Claire’s, blurring reality with fiction. It was inherent in him to help others. He hadn’t forgotten it, even though he was no longer human.

“Fine,” he managed to make out through gritted teeth. “I only take payment upfront though.” Reaching his hand out towards her, he helped her to her feet, as she dusted off her red leather jacket.

“Yeah, about that…” she scratched the back of her head sheepishly.

“Let me guess, you’re not exactly rolling in riches, are you?” he sighed, his expression drooping suddenly in weariness.

Claire bit her tongue, trying to hold back on making another snarky remark about the elitist Camarilla sect and its bullshit Ivory Tower. Leon cocked his head, staring at her curiously, unveiling his fangs deliberately like a shark. Shit, maybe he was one of those Kindred who could read minds.

“Look, wait—” she raised her hands in front of him as though placating a raging bull. “If you find him, Chris…” There was a long, pregnant pause, as she shuffled her feet anxiously. “I’ll owe you a life boon,” she breathed, sealing her fate.

A life boon. She must be completely desperate, he thought. He’d never been owed one before, seeing as how he was just another mundane neonate in the underworld of upper class Kindred, which meant that he’d graduated from being a fledgling under the wing of his sire without fucking up. He was good enough to be considered a cog in the machine for his elders to use like a pawn in their silly games. But for the past 15 years, give and take, of his unlife, he always played by the rules, or around them, never going beyond the point of no return.

Life boons were rare in these nights and he wasn’t about to say no, but at the same time there was that nagging conscience within him that wondered if he was taking advantage of her. No, the Kindred world worked differently from the Kine’s… well, actually they were pretty similar, but— he shook his head to snap out of it before he could sink deeper into the rabbit hole.

Clearing his throat, he extended his hand again, offering it to her. “You got yourself a deal then, uh, miss…?”

“Claire.” She grabbed his hand and shook it firmly, nodding tersely at him. “Claire Redfield.”

“Right, Claire, tell me everything you know so far.” He gestured towards a pair of seats near his desk.

After he had gathered all the information he needed, he sent her off to the door like the gentleman he had been raised to be. Before heading out, she turned around, unclasping the silvery chain that hung around her neck. Attached to it was a matching pewter feather and a robin’s egg blue gemstone set within it.

“Take this.” She released it in his hand. “Show it to Chris and he’ll know I sent you.”

With that, she disappeared into the cool, dead of night.

The next time they saw each other was a week later, inside an abandoned motel. There was trash strewn across the entire floor and an overhead light buzzed and flickered.The plaster had been torn apart from the ceiling board and loose cables hung from its opening.

A gruff, bulky man leaned against Leon’s shoulder which acted like a makeshift crutch, as Leon steadied him with a firm grip, half-carrying and half-guiding him to a soiled mattress in the middle of a room. The man patted Leon’s arm, indicating that he wanted to take a break. He slid down against the wall, resting in a sitting position on the mattress. His clothes were caked with mud and half of his face had been severely burnt, as charred black flesh curled at its edges. There was a gaping bullet hole in his thigh, and rusty colored blood soaked through his tactical pants.

Apart from the scratching and scampering of rodents, the place was silent. Though the uncanny peace was disrupted just a split second later, when a screech could be heard from the other end of the room. “Chris!”

In a blink of an eye, Claire dashed forward and knelt in front of her brother, grasping both of his shoulders as tears streamed down her face.

“Some FIRSTLIGHT agents got him real bad, but he managed to get out of the thick of it,” Leon explained. “They were searching for him, so he was stuck there for a while.”

Chris brushed his sooty fingers against his sister’s cheek, leaving charcoal marks in their wake. “Don’t worry, we got them back,” he rasped, shifting his gaze between Leon and him, as he grimaced through the pain.

“Shhh, don’t speak.” She brought a finger to his lips, trying to hush him. “Fucking SI bastards,” she seethed.

The Second Inquisition. The bane of every Kindred’s existence. They targeted everyone indiscriminately, regardless of sect, and had been around in one form or another since the beginning of time. Today, they were a conglomeration of intelligence agencies who made it their life mission to eradicate the undead. Apparently, even the Vatican was involved, Leon scoffed at his internal monologue, before directing his attention back at Claire. “Your brother’s had a blood bag, he’ll need—”

“Shit’s fucking disgusting, 10 out of 10 would not recommend,” Chris warned hoarsely, before erupting into a coughing fit.

Claire groaned, shaking her head in exasperation. “I swear, it’s like talking to a brick wall with this one.”

Leon peered around the room, double-checking to ensure that no one else was there. He shouldn’t stay any longer than necessary. “Since my job here is done, I’ll take my leave,” he said, stuffing his hands into his pockets, as he turned towards the exit sign.

“Leon?” Claire called out and he looked back at her in puzzlement. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but… thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.” He shrugged, flipping his bangs away from his face.

“I owe you,” she declared, her serious demeanor reflecting the sincerity of her words.

Chris glanced between the two of them. “We owe you,” he chimed in.

━━━━━━━━━━━

Present day…

Jasmine incense and fruity puffs of shisha smoke wafted throughout the room he had just entered. Translucent red silk sheets draped around the ceiling and the side walls, giving off the illusion of being in the hull of a ship, as well as a false sense of security. The beaded curtain he passed through made a tinkling sound as the pearls clacked lightly together, alerting others to his presence. This was a place where gossip was woven, secrets were spilled and deals were made. Leon knew this all too well, especially since he had his share of many such dealings with his sire in the past.

He was in luck today. Apart from her, there were only ghouls here, ordinary humans whom she recruited into her service and imbued with her strength. One of them nodded at him in acknowledgment, offering him a cordial glass filled with claret liquid. “Our finest.”

Clearly, they had anticipated his arrival. How nice of his sire to inform them, he ruminated sarcastically. Taking the glass from her, he swirled it, noting how smoothly it strained down the sides before sniffing the rim faintly.

“We also have live vessels, if you prefer,” she suggested.

He frowned slightly, signaling with a subtle hand wave to decline her proposal as he drank from his glass. She backed off, allowing him to walk past towards a majestic set of marble doors, lavishly decorated with ornaments and intricate figures carved into them. Tracing an outline of a distorted face of a child with his finger, he recalled how in his early years, he’d been so enraptured by everything in this godforsaken place, and most of all, her. He lifted the aged bronze knocker, tapping it twice before pushing open the double doors.

And there he saw her, in all her terrible glory, basking like a queen in an elegant kimono robe on her opulent, plush bed, adorned with a velvet headboard and its frame crafted from the finest woods. Every inch of it was covered in luxurious fabrics, from the embroidered duvet to the pile of sumptuously soft pillows. Kneeling beside her on the ground was a half naked ghoul, lapping hungrily at the crimson fluid flowing from her wrist. A blood-stained dagger lay on the bedside table.

Ada caught Leon’s gaze and smirked at him.

“That’s enough for now,” she commanded, and immediately, the ghoul straightened himself, averting his eyes as he retreated from the pair of them.

The gash on her wrist closed up on its own. “Just the monthly top up.”

Leon made a face at her elaboration; the betrayal and hurt were still raw in his memory, as if they had only occurred yesterday.

“Oh, don’t be so sour, Leon,” she laughed. “You can’t possibly be still hung up about that?”

“You used me, Ada,” he simmered. Despite the infrequency of their meetings in the recent years spent apart, she knew how to push his buttons. “So, I’m sorry if it’s a little hard for me to act like nothing ever happened between us.”

She let out an irritated sigh. “You sound like a child throwing a tantrum right now,” she retorted, picking at her nails in growing boredom. “And tell me, which sire doesn’t use their own progeny?”

He clenched his fists in anger but held his tongue. This wasn’t the hill he wanted to die on. He reminded himself of the purpose of his visit and chose not to let her snide comments ruffle him.

“Good boy,” she cooed approvingly. “I see you haven’t lost all of your manners. Blood bond, or no blood bond.”

He winced at the term, as a sudden wave of nostalgia, combined with ensuing nausea, hit him. The visions were so vivid:

“Do you love me?” She stroked the side of his cheek tenderly as he lay naked and panting on top of her pale breasts.

“Yes, yes, of course,” he fawned.

“Prove it.”

Cradling her hand, he brought the underside of her wrist to his lips. “I’ll do anything! Say the word and I’ll die for you, a thousand times over.”

“Then drink, my love.” Her eyes glowed violet as her mouth shaped into a cruel, yet alluring smile.

And he sank his teeth into her, like a good little boy.

Back then, she only needed to say “Jump,” and he would ask, “How high?” without realizing that drinking from her so often would result in a nearly unbreakable blood bond. He committed despicable acts in her name, things he would rather scrub from his mind and forget about, but they continued to haunt him.

When he lost his shine and the appeal of being something new, she discarded him like yesterday's newspaper, chasing after the next high she could find. The problem with the bond was that he was obsessed with her, often breaking out into insanely jealous fits that tormented him for days when she took on a new lover. He had almost killed one of them, which, in turn, could have resulted in his Final Death at the hands of the Prince, had he been successful. Time away from her was all it took for the bond to wear off, though it was not without its difficulties. He whined like a lovesick puppy during the moments he was alone, rotting like waste on the stone cold floor. His vulnerability was like a disease; he hated every bit of it and swore never to descend to such a state.

When he returned to the Court like a new man after an agonizing period of being weaned off the bond, he suddenly found himself no longer in vogue and stumbling his way through the dark, seeing as how it was always his sire who called the shots around town. In a twisted turn of events, he ironically ended up falling back on the career he had originally given up to be with her, in order to be of use to the Camarilla, or polite vampire society, if you will.

And then, there was the vessel business. To keep up with the expectations and obligations impressed upon him due to their formal relationship as sire and childe, he continued to bring her the vessels she requested. The only requirement was for them to be of ‘exquisite taste’ and he obliged whenever he could, though this time, he put in just the bare minimum to get by. Yet, some part of him still cared for her, in spite of what she had done, even if he would never let himself admit that.

Coming back to his senses, his eyes adjusted to the scene before him. Leaning back on her bed and propped up by the pillows, Ada patted the empty side next to her, inviting him to take a seat, and he followed her lead.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Negotiating was never one of his strong suits, especially not with Ada, but he had to try. He gulped the rest of the liquid down, fiddling with the glass in his hand. “Ada, since I joined you, you know I’ve never asked you for anything…”

She cast him a prolonged sideways glance. “You’ve piqued my curiosity. Go on.”

“I want to Embrace one of my own.” The words tumbled out of his mouth in a rush. Better to get it done and over with.

“You? Becoming a sire?” she snorted in disbelief before bursting into giggles. “I mean, you’ve always been a bit of a mommy’s boy, haven’t you?”

“I can handle it,” he responded curtly with a cold and unbroken stare.

“Hmph.” Pulling herself into a seated position against the headrest, she folded her arms and turned to face him. “I have to say though, this is even more interesting than when you joined the Anarchs.”

A disgruntled noise escaped his throat. “I didn’t join the Anarchs—”

“No matter.” She raised a hand to silence him. “Wesker seems to think it useful of you to be our unofficial emissary. And what the Prince says, goes, after all.” A sly grin spread across her cheeks, barely concealing her fangs.

Clearing her throat, she continued her line of questioning. “So, who is this prospective childe?”

“One of the owners of Café Noir on Blake Street, just east of Circular River,” he mentioned, racking his brains for any viable excuse to make you sound like the best possible candidate for the Clan of the Rose, the Toreador. His and Ada’s clan. Like sire, like childe.

There were some who thought of them as divas and perverts, but these Kindred were wrong — they were so much more than that. Passion and obsession were their greatest strengths. They could make or break minds with it, crushing you until you were nothing but a tiny speck on the Earth, to be shunned and forgotten. Everyone had something to bring to the table, and let’s just say what counts as an art has always been a purely subjective matter.

“I was tipped off that the Anarchs are looking for ways to claim the area as their domain,” he explained further. “She’ll give us the edge we need to prevent that.”

“Anything else?” she probed.

“She’s young, idealistic—”

“A lot like yourself, back in the day.” A rueful laugh escaped her lips.

Leon continued forward without missing a beat, he needed to convince her without letting her statement get to him. “Hot-blooded, but not to the extreme like those Brujahs, just the right amount of fight in her. I’m sure you’ve heard of the events they’ve hosted over there—”

“Ah, yes,” she nodded. “Very underground and avant-garde.” There was a twinge of dismissiveness in the way she said it.

“Yet pandering to the people,” he added quickly, attempting to cram in even more noteworthy achievements he had recognized in you. “Well, you can’t deny that she can stir quite a crowd—”

“You’re in love with her, aren’t you?” Ada interrupted him for the third time in a row, and he was struggling to maintain his composure in response to her accusation. “How predictable.”

“That’s besides the point,” he snapped, turning away from her to avoid her mocking scrutiny.

She tutted, stretching herself out leisurely like a cat who had a mouse trapped between its claws. “The real question is, why don’t you ask the Prince yourself?”

“You know why,” he muttered, still unable to look her in the eyes.

“Say it.”

Swallowing his pride, he pursed his lips before speaking. “I’m just a simple whelp. But you, as an esteemed Harpy, know how to please him.”

“Very good.” She reached out and ran her lithe fingers through his silken locks of hair as he shuddered at her touch. “Just like I taught you.”

Curling her fingers under his chin, she turned his face back towards her. “You know this won’t come for free…”

“I am well aware.”

The look of determination in his eyes nearly startled her. She hadn’t seen that fire in him for a while. “Sometimes, you surprise me,” she admitted. “No wonder I keep you around.”

“Do we have a deal?” he pressed, trying to keep the conversation on track.

“If I were you, I’d be careful what I wished for.” She trailed one of her taloned nails along his bottom lip. “In any case, I’m counting this as a major boon, so you better be ready to pull your weight when the time comes.”

She was always playing games. With him. With everyone. It was what she thrived on. But his choices were limited. “Have I ever failed you?”

“Don’t make it the first,” she warned, a gleam of danger flashing across her eyes. “Well, come then, kiss me.”

Suppressing his reluctance, he leaned forward and pressed his lips against hers as she asked, submitting to her entirely as the deal was sealed.

━━━━━━━━━━━

“Leon?” he heard you call out from behind the bar the minute he’d stepped through the entrance. You looked like you had seen a ghost.

It had been a while since he had returned, but there were other more urgent matters he had to attend to in the meantime. Did you miss him? Was this what it was all about? He strolled over, watching you chew your lip apprehensively.

He tried to place his hand on your shoulder in concern, but you shrank away from him like a wilted flower. There was a pang in his chest. He didn’t know how you had the power to unintentionally hurt him in this way. “Is something wrong?”

You were trembling so badly, the cup you were holding rattled noisily against its saucer. “What did you do to me back then?”

A pained realization swept across his face. You had remembered the last words he had said this time, waking up confused to find yourself unsullied, not a hair out of place, wondering what on earth he meant by his remark. God, he wanted to hold you now and beg for your forgiveness, but it was too late.

“You know, I liked you…” Your mouth had contorted in anguish. “If you wanted something, you could’ve just asked.”

“Please, I can explain,” he pleaded, finding himself on the opposite end of the table for once. “I swear, I won’t do anything to harm you. I just need you to trust me, please.”

Your forehead creased as you pondered your next move, eyeing the man in front of you with suspicion. He seemed so earnest and had treated you with nothing but kindness before. Yet, beneath the surface, there lurked a predatory nature intrinsic to him. Although it scared you, you found this side to him fascinating, and it drew you in at the same time.

Finally, you came to a decision. “Patrick?” you motioned towards your curly-haired brunette colleague while not once shifting your gaze from Leon. “I’m gonna take the night off and spend some time with this gentleman here.”

Sliding Leon’s business card along the counter towards him, you made sure to talk loud enough for the blonde man to hear it. “If you don’t see me in the next day or two, you know what to do.”

You tried to laugh it off as a half-serious joke, just so they wouldn’t worry… too much. And with that, you grabbed your jacket and headed off into the night with him.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy angst #leon kennedy fluff #resident evil #vampire au #vampire the masquerade #vtm #crossover #fic: into the ether #porcelainscribbles

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andypantsx3 · 2 years ago

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Deceiving the Duke | 7 | Todoroki Shouto

pairing: Todoroki Shouto x Female Reader

length: 4.2k of 30k words | 7th of 9 chapters

summary: When Camie Utsushimi elopes on the eve of her society debut, scandal threatens to destroy the family’s prospects. It’s up to you, a maid, to impersonate Camie throughout the Season, long enough that her elder sister can make a match. The only trouble? Lord Shouto Todoroki is also intent on making a match—and that match, quite impossibly, appears to involve you.

tags/warnings: romance, regency au, class differences, hidden identity/identity porn, aged up characters, eventual smut

Lord Shouto continued to watch you strangely throughout the rest of the season.

You could tell he was observing you worryingly closely, and he seemed to request your company more frequently than ever. You were barely managing your household chores and dress modifications with all the time you spent in his company, and Mrs. Utsushimi was beginning to cotton onto the fact that for all your time spent talking Caroline up to him, they were seeing few results.

But you couldn’t pass up time with him, now that the season was drawing to an end. You took to sneaking out, agreeing to meet Lord Shouto somewhere down the street from the Utsushimi town home, a sense like cool relief washing over you every time you saw him, though he was watching you more hawkishly than ever.

He took you to a play, where he seemed to spend the entirety of its run glancing sideways at you, and when you stumbled on your next promenade he managed to reach out and catch you once almost before you’d begun to fall.

You could feel clearly that somehow, the intent behind his interest in you had shifted, and you wondered how much of the truth he was beginning to uncover.

You were glad Caroline had nabbed herself a suitor who was not at all circumspect in his interest in her, as it meant you would soon be able to close the book on this horrible scheme, and leave Lord Shouto in peace. But another, uglier little part of you hissed and yowled like a street cat at the idea of never seeing Lord Shouto again–at leaving the Utsushimis’ employ and Musutafu city, never able to return to even the places you’d visited together.

Despite yourself, you also wanted to linger in the season forever, riding through the park with Lord Shouto, poking fun at players, and twirling through ballrooms in his arms–but it quickly drew towards its end.

The season would culminate in a series of masked balls, after the first of which Mrs. Utsushimi expected Caroline’s suitor to propose. This would likely be your last event, for Caroline was sure to be married off quickly after that, perhaps within a fortnight.

You dressed carefully this time, allowing yourself to pick out the prettiest of Camie’s gowns you’d altered. It was a soft pink satin undergown, dressed over in a sheer, soft voile with tiny lace details. The dress was utterly lovely and utterly frivolous–not something you’d ever get to wear again in your lifetime.

You ferreted Camie’s only masquerade mask out of her chest, a cream-colored domino shape with lace trim at the edges, that tied around the back of your head with a matching ribbon. In Camie’s looking glass, you looked unfamiliar and—dare you think it—pretty, and you could almost believe that your station did not matter, that you might be just as beautiful as the leagues of bourgeoisie women who would surround you this evening.

You let yourself enjoy it.

When she saw you, Mrs. Utsushimi seemed taken aback by the choice, frowning over the nerve of your selection, but Caroline managed to insert herself before she could say as much, drawing you into her room and insisting she had just the thing to set it off. You couldn’t have been more grateful to her if you’d tried.

The thing turned out to be two: a silk rose for your hair and a tiny strand of paste jewels on a chain, so small you could almost believe them for real diamonds, were you not so intimately acquainted with the Utsushimi household’s finances.

Caroline had also dressed in her finest, a gown of a flowing purple fabric, set off with dusky pink paste jewels and a glittering paste tiara. It stood out against her pale skin, making it glow like moonlight under the flickering shine of the candles. She looked like a princess, peerless and elegant. You were sure that if her suitor hadn’t planned on declaring his intentions after this ball, he’d find himself unable to resist doing so anyhow.

You managed to make it out of the house without Mrs. Utsushimi requesting you change, and you were glad you’d let yourself make a little bit of a spectacle of your outfit when you made it into the assembly rooms and saw the rest of the peerage.

Every single person had worn their best, it seemed, and the ballroom was a sea of fine satins and pale muslins, immaculately-tailored coats and glowing white stockings. Candlelight glinted off of thousands of jewels, a sparkling rainbow of color. You suddenly found the room just as overwhelming as when you’d first set foot at the Monomas’, but this time you drank it all in eagerly, aware that this was the last time you’d ever see the peerage this closely again.

Like a magnet, your gaze was pulled to a tall figure winding his way through the crowd. You tracked his progress towards you, heart fluttering as that telltale mop of red and white hair drew closer. Lord Shouto emerged from the crowd and stalked towards you with all the grace and self-assurance you’d come to expect of him.

He looked utterly dashing in his masquerade attire–a dark coat and a dark undershirt clearly recently dyed to match, dark breeches and stiff black boots. He wore a black domino mask tied over his eyes, a similar shape to your own, except that he looked very much like a handsome highwayman or rogue, and you felt rather soft and flowery in comparison–very frivolous and utterly silly.

His costume had the effect of drawing out the paleness of his skin, the glittering gemstone colors of his eyes, and the shape of his mask only drew more attention to the sharp cut of his jaw and the pouty shape of his full mouth.

Your breath left you in a shaky exhale, as Lord Shouto caught your hand in a dark glove and raised it to his mouth.

“You are beautiful,” he said quietly. You could feel heat rising to your cheeks, and you fought the urge to squirm under his gaze.

“You too–um,” you said, coherent thought suddenly escaping you. “I mean, you look…handsome. Very handsome. But of course you knew that. You always…um…”

You pinched yourself through your skirts to get yourself to stop babbling, and Lord Shouto’s mouth quirked.

“I should very much like to accompany you this evening, if you’ll permit me,” he said.

The heat from your cheeks crept down your body in a warm flush. That was…well, bold was the only way to put it. If you spent most of the evening in Lord Shouto’s company, unchaperoned, there would be talk–that he meant to make your match, that you were far too bold for a woman, that you should certainly never be marriageable if this was your idea of propriety.

But, this was your last evening in his company. You felt certain Caroline’s suitor would propose, and you would likely never see Lord Shouto again, after tonight.

You stared at his face, the openness of his expression. He was so very beautiful and so very kind, and this was the last time you would ever get to speak to him.

“I—yes. I should like that,” you said, unable to help yourself.

Lord Shouto smiled, then, that charming half-moon sliver that all but took a sledgehammer to a woman’s knees. You clutched the arm he proffered, feeling weak.

Lord Shouto led you to the refreshments room, right past Miss Uraraka and Lady Asui, both of whom were watching you with wide eyes. You offered a small, self-conscious little wave. You would have to write to both of them, too, to tell them you were sorry–to have missed them, and for the deception that you had been anything like their equal.

Lord Shouto distracted you from your sudden sobriety by fetching you a glass of lemonade and a tiny apricot cake. You lifted a brow at him petulantly as he returned to you, smirking.

“Do not think that an audience provides any impediment to this being thrown,” you told him as he placed the cake into your hand.

“Ah, but you’ve told me you intend to win a husband someday,” he said, inclining his head towards you to speak softly but conspiratorially. “You’ll want to be on your best behavior here.”

You took a dismissive sip of your lemonade. “Actually, I’m feeling rather impulsive this evening. This season is almost at a close.”

“Ah, and you’ve intimated it will be your last,” Lord Shouto said.

“Yes,” you replied. “So do not think you are safe from flying foodstuffs.”

Lord Shouto smiled again. “Never.”

You couldn’t help but grin up at him, amused with his indulgent tone. “I suppose you’re grateful the season is ending too. What will you do at its close? Return to your family’s estate?”

Lord Shouto looked contemplative, and he took a sip of his own lemonade. You tried not to pay attention to the way his mouth looked pressed against the glass, the line of his throat as he swallowed. “If the season ends as I intend it to, there will be a return to my family estate, yes,” he said. “And after, a series of long travel plans.”

You turned towards him, nibbling on your apricot cake. “A long journey? To where? Will it take you out of the country?”

Lord Shouto’s eyes glittered with the tiniest hint of mischief. “It is a secret.”

You squinted at him suspiciously. You’d used the same trick on him but you did not like it turned back on you. And really, what would make travel plans so secret?

Unless…

Did he mean a honeymoon, perhaps? And, considering he was rumored to be courting Princess Yaoyorozu–would it need to be kept secret specifically for her? Perhaps to keep her safe?

“Need I remind you I am a fantastic secret keeper,” you groused, but did not press. If it was a royal matter, you really had no right to the information.

Lord Shouto’s mouth quirked. “I am well aware.”

“Have it your way then,” you waved a dismissive hand at him, searching for someplace to put your empty lemonade glass down.

Lord Shouto’s gloved fingers plucked it from your hand, and pressed something else in its place–a frosty, pale-colored drink you recognized for iced punch. You raised an eyebrow at him.

“You’ve said you were feeling rather impulsive this evening,” he said. “Forgive me for the presumption.”

But he took his own glass of punch, too, and the idea of sharing this last anything with him thrilled you to your core. You took a sip, bracing against the many alcohols that had been mixed in. It sat fruity and sharp and heavy on your tongue.

“You plan to aid and abet my bad behavior, then?” you asked him.

Lord Shouto’s mouth curled, like he was laughing at something secret. “You say that as though I had not already.”

You couldn’t help the pout that crossed your lips. “I have been a saint. You are the corrupting influence.”

Lord Shouto’s smile pulled more sharply at the corner of his mouth. “I should like to be.”

Your face flashed hot with the implication of his words, and you almost choked on your sip of punch. “You are determined to be on your worst behavior as well then,” you wheezed out.

“The season is almost at a close,” he echoed in his blandest tone.

Even straight-faced, you could sense the underlying mischief. You didn’t know what had him in such a mood this evening, when he was normally so genteel–but you found you quite liked it.

You laughed. “Well, then. Partners in crime?” You offered a hand, and Lord Shouto smirked and shook it, striking up another deal as you had that first night in the Monomas’ darkened library. His hand was warm and strong in yours, and even through the fabric of your gloves, his touch sent a swarm of shivers down your spine.

“What hijinks shall we get up to?” you asked.

“Perhaps you might stand up with me for a dance,” he said.

Another little thrill went through you. You could not deny how much you liked dancing with him, for all that you should have avoided it throughout the season. You liked his warm, hard body pressed alongside yours, the sureness of his movements, the clasp of his arms around you.

You finished your punch in a determined gulp. “Lead on, my lord.”

Lord Shouto looked pleased. He drained his glass too, and led you back into the ballroom, where the players were just beginning another song.

Flushed with punch and the urgency of the evening, it was better than any dance you’d had before. You let yourself enjoy it this time, knowing it would be one of the last. You basked in the feeling of your hand in his, his other hand at your back, the intimacy inherent in the touch. You drank in the strength of his movements, his deliberate focus, the soothing timbre of his voice when he spoke to you over the sound of the music–smoother and lovelier than any instrument.

More than anything, you drank in Lord Shouto’s handsome face, put out a little by the mask that covered his distinctive scar. It occurred to you that you had perhaps already seen his whole face for the final time, that you would never see it in full again, and a somber, hiccupy little feeling rose in your chest.

You tried to memorize the most minute details about him–the tiniest spray of freckles across his nose, the serious way he held his mouth when it was at rest. The flush of exertion high on his cheeks looked so unbearably good on him, you knew you’d remember it forever.

Lord Shouto seemed just as determined to enjoy things as you. When the first dance ended, he asked for another–a bold move that signaled far too much interest–but you couldn’t help but accept. When that one ended, you retreated back to the refreshments room where you fetched yourselves more punch, feeling rather giddy.

One glass turned to another, and then another, and Lord Shouto asked you again for another dance—so wholly inappropriate, but you couldn’t help but comply. You could see the scandalized faces of the room around you as he spun you in your third dance, but it all mattered so little in the end, you thought. The nobility could think whatever they wanted–you would no longer be beholden to their prejudices after this evening.

And Lord Shouto—all that mattered to you in this one moment was Lord Shouto.

You clung to him perhaps more closely than was appropriate, but there was nothing for it. His coat was soft under your hands, his voice so soothing, his presence intoxicating. Any time you glanced at his face, his gaze was all but burning through you, and you thought he was watching you with equal abandon.

As the third dance ended, you noted that Caroline and her suitor, Mr. Yosetsu Awase, too, had stood up for four dances together—there would be no doubt about their engagement now.

“I hope he’s good to her, after everything,” you said absently.

Lord Shouto looked down at you through his dark mask. “You sound wistful.”

“I should have liked her to have stayed single a few weeks longer,” you said, forgetting yourself. “I should have liked more time. But I am happy to see things finally come together. It is for the best.”

Lord Shouto’s face went strange. His hand found your wrist, and he tugged you closer to him. You fought against the desire to press yourself to him, to burrow in against him.

“You mean this to be your last event of the season,” he said, though how he’d deduced it, you had no idea.

You nodded. There was no reason not to tell something close to the truth, now. “I’d have liked more time with you, my lord. Truthfully, you have been an unexpected delight in this season. I should like to see you settled soon, too. You deserve much happiness.”

Lord Shouto’s hand tightened on your wrist, his mouth pressing into a determined slash.

“Come with me,” he murmured.

You followed him through the crowds, thankful that your mask shielded you some from the intrigued stares of the nobility. Your head was swimming with all the dancing and the punch and the emotion of the evening, and you held tightly to Lord Shouto in return.

Lord Shouto led you down the adjoining hall, poking his head into rooms alternately, until he found an alcove, leading out onto a small balcony. He tugged you out with him, into the chill night air. The evening was quiet, the sky deep blue and lit with so many stars.

It was lovely–almost as lovely as he.

“My lord–” you started, but Lord Shouto turned to you, stepping close again. His face was unexpectedly serious.

“If it is time you want, I would give you all the time in the world,” he said. His tone was soft, low, but resolute.

Your heartbeat slammed to a halt in your chest, your fingers freezing in his grasp.

“I–my lord–what–?”

Lord Shouto stepped even closer, his face drawing far too near. His fingers shifted on your wrist, tugging it down to your side, and his hand slid into yours, holding tightly. The nightscape swam.

“I would spend the rest of my days with you,” he murmured, those eyes searching yours. You felt very suddenly like your heart was swelling, ballooning so large you thought it might crack your ribs. “If this season must be your last, please say it is not your last with me.”

He looked so solemn, so earnest, so utterly and terribly perfect, gazing down at you like that.

Your thoughts raced and your breath came short, and you couldn’t make heads or tails of what he was saying! He sounded like—he sounded like—!

“Lord Shouto–” you started, but he shook his head.

“Just Shouto. Please.”

Your heartbeat pounded in your ears. You opened your mouth, with absolutely no notion of what you might say. Suddenly you knew only two things. That you were desperately in love with him–-and that you could never, ever say yes to him.

You opened your mouth to refuse him–you had to refuse him, for what else could be said?--and then–

“I love you,” you said into the silence of the night.

The sound of it startled you. But Shouto’s mouth broke out into the most stunningly gorgeous smile you had ever seen–wide and full and so incandescently happy.

Before you knew what you were doing, you’d leaned forward and pressed your mouth to his.

Shouto reacted like lightning, sinking into it with abandon. His arms came around you, pulling you to him tightly, one hand coming up to the back of your head to hold you close. Your arms went around his shoulders and your hands fisted in his collar points.

You’d never been kissed before–and you thought you’d never, ever be kissed like this again. Shouto’s kiss was so exactly like him–strong and sure, but gentle, and a little bit mischievous. His tongue teased yours and you responded in kind, your head spinning with him.

Without any input from your brain, your hands reached up to tug off his mask, and you pulled back to stare at him, desperate to see his face again.

He was just as gorgeous as you’d remembered.

Your heart twinged again, and he pulled you back to him, pressing his mouth to yours again.

He kissed you until you were dizzy with it, and then kissed you some more. You couldn’t stop your hands from roaming all over him, as if to reassure yourself that he was real, a solid, touchable thing under your fingertips.

His own hands slid down your waist, tightening there, and then his thumbs slid up to sit against your ribcage, dangerously close to the undersides of your breasts. You suddenly wanted nothing more than to be touched there, the need becoming an ache under your skin.

You wanted him, anything he would give you, his hands, his mouth—wanted it all over you. This was the only time you could ever have this from him–

“Please touch me,” you heard yourself murmuring against his lips. “Shouto, please.”

He groaned low in his throat and kissed you even more fervently. But his hands slid up obediently, his thumbs brushing the cloth over your nipples.

You gasped into his mouth, surprised at the feeling, and tugged harder on his collar points. “Shouto. Shouto please.”

His mouth dipped to your throat, layering hot, open-mouthed kisses there, and you threw your head back. His lips blazed a line down your neck, down your chest, and then to the neckline of your gown. A set of long fingers pulled the fabric aside and delved under the cups of your stays. He brushed the bare skin of your nipple and you made an embarrassingly breathy little noise, holding onto him for dear life.

He worked you looser from your stays, and then his mouth was closing over the tip of your breast, and you had to fight down a shout.

He let out that soft groan again, and surged back up to kiss you on the mouth. He walked you back, pressing you against the cool stone wall of the building, just beside the doorway. One of his legs came between yours, pressing to your center, and you squeaked the most embarrassing noise into his mouth.

Shouto inhaled sharply, and did it again, pulling you onto his thigh with the hand at your waist. His mouth found your neck, kissing fervently down it, and his fingers teased your nipple again. You found yourself moving against him, wild with want.

Something built within you, hot and twisting. You felt somehow that you might shatter into a thousand pieces if something did not give.

Lord Shouto’s hand pressing to you through your skirts had you biting off a sudden moan.

Your hand shot up to cover your own mouth, when something shifted at the corner of your vision. For a moment you thought you were seeing things–until it solidified into silhouettes moving at the entry to the balcony. Your molten blood instantly iced over as several gasps and a shocked exclamation rang out.

Shouto went rigid under your hands for only a second before he was standing up, holding you to him to cover you, while he quickly jerked your stays back in place. You just stood there uselessly, utterly stupefied.

Your stomach dropped as the voice of Caroline’s new fiancee ventured, “Lord…Todoroki?”

Shouto’s eyes found yours for a moment, flitting down your face as if assessing your condition. But then he turned, and you heard him say, “Mr. Awase.”

Over Shouto’s broad shoulder you could see Caroline and Mrs. Utsushimi looking aghast alongside the hostess of the evening. Too many eyes had seen you. With Caroline’s suitor and the hostess–there would be no covering this up.

Fuck. On the eve of Caroline’s betrothal–right on the edge of the family’s success–you’d gone and embroiled them in exactly the type of impropriety scandal this charade had been meant to prevent!

Your stomach churned.

“And…Miss Utsushimi,” Mr. Awase finally surmised, catching sight of you. Next to him, Caroline’s expression was horrified, and Mrs. Utsushimi had produced her handkerchief from somewhere and was starting to flap it agitatedly.

Your mind raced for some way to explain this away–-but Shouto spoke first.

“I intend to marry her,” he said.

Your mouth dropped open–as did Caroline and Mrs. Utsushimi’s. Their shock was the only way you could tell you hadn’t just experienced an auditory hallucination.

“I should hope so,” the hostess sniffed. “As it is, this is most improper. And from you, Lord Shouto! Such behavior can not be countenanced.”

A tiny noise escaped you, and you stepped forward, but Shouto’s hand on your sleeve stopped you.

“I’ll procure a special license in the morning,” he said, turning to glance down at you. “I will call upon you when I have.”

Horror welled in your gut at hearing the preparations laid out so plainly. He meant it–he really meant to marry Camie Utsushimi.

When Camie Utsushimi was already married. And you weren’t even her!

You’d trapped him into wedlock when such a thing could absolutely under no circumstances ever be permitted, especially considering your station.

Before you could say anything, however, Mrs. Utsushimi had moved forward and snatched you away from Shouto. “We will await your calling, Lord Todoroki,” she said tightly. Her fingers were tight in your sleeve, and you could feel them trembling–even over what you realized was your own trembling.

You could do nothing but let her quickly bundle you away from the crowd, with no time to say anything to Shouto. You heard Caroline murmur something to Mr. Awase, and then she too was hurrying to catch up, her slippered feet soft on the tiles.

You barely had enough time to glance behind you before Mrs. Utsushimi hustled you around the corner. You caught the barest sliver of a glimpse of Shouto, his face unreadable in the dim.

And then you were being led out into the cool night air–and into a future that you were certain you’d ruined for everyone.

#todoroki shouto x reader #todoroki x you #shouto todoroki x reader #shoto x reader

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constantfragmentation · 10 months ago

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Hello there! Nice to meet you and welcome to my strange universe.

Nickname: Frags

She/They - Super Introvert - INFP-T

Adult Blog, LGBTQA+ Safe Zone, I would prefer MINORS DNI please.

Writer and lover of old gothic horror and romances/aesthetics.

CURRENT WIPs

BEND BUT NOT BREAK

Arcane Jane Eyre Regency Silco AU Gothic Romance Suspense

rated MATURE

art by @shahs1221

IRON & GLASS

Arcane Canonesque AU Young Silco and OC melding into Canon Arcane

rated MATURE

manip by me

TWO MASKS

Arcane Regency Silco One-Shot (might be a multi-chapter). Smut-filled encounter at a Piltover masquerade ball.

rated MATURE

I am thinking of new Silco stories. One is rumbling in my head, and I might toss the idea around to see if it's worth exploring.

I really want to thank artists that were inspired by my work and continue to inspire me to keep writing:

@silcoitus, @shahs1221, @missygoesmeow, @dad-dumpster, @cmon-man

I'm very humbled by all the kind and generous people out there.

#silco #arcane #regency silco #silco au #silco fanfiction #bend but not break #iron & glass #two masks

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midnightsun-if · 1 month ago

Note

I don't know if I actually sent this message or typed it out and thought against it so let's just double check lol

Will we be attending parties or anything at the Academy? I was wondering if we do if we'd have a selection from outfits to choose from that would, most certainly, get the ROs attention...

I don’t believe I received your other message, I’m afraid — so I’m glad you resent it! 😄

For future events like that I can’t really say — as I know a lot of things will crop up organically as I’m writing — but I do know two parties that will occur within Midnight Sun that are part of the plot. A random party to celebrate the start of the semester; so that one is the less formal party. The second is much later on and it’s a masquerade ball — as I have a weakness for them — that I think will be quite interesting. Especially since I already have a couple of the ROs outfits already planned (masks and all).

As for getting the ROs reactions? It’d just depend on where said party may, or may not, take place. As the first party, that I mentioned previously, is fairly early so there won’t be much of a reaction from the ROs like Scarlett, Sloane, or Cyrus/Cyra… However, there would still be different reactions depending on said outfit; it just probably won’t have to do with attraction… Like I can already envision a comment from Sloane if the MC decides to wear something pink (as an example).

There will definitely be reactions during the masquerade ball as it takes place in the chapter right before you lock into their romances.

#midnight sun #asks #ro: blake herrera #ro: quinn grant #ro: sloane addams #ro: c aurelia #ro: r presley #ro: koda kingston #ro: caden randall #ro: scarlett voltaire #midsun: aurelian academy

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inquisitornocturn · 5 months ago

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⊱─ 𝕕𝕒𝕣𝕜𝕟𝕖𝕤𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝕤𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕟: 𝕔𝕙. 𝟞 - 𝕖𝕟𝕧𝕪 ─⊰

➺ 𝕡𝕒𝕚𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘:Ascended Astarion/f!reader

➺ 𝕥𝕒𝕘𝕤: no y/n is used, rating - E, jealousy, arguing, asphyxiation, bondage, breast play, dubcon, underwear as a gag, smut, vaginal fingering, cunnilingus, teasing, PiV, praise kink, vampire bites, caught while fucking, creampie.

➺ 𝕤𝕥𝕠𝕣𝕪 𝕤𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪: you're skilled, driven and most importantly - ambitious. but even as someone in your position, a trained assassin and a leader of your own Guild, you still lend yourself to jobs that are of importance. even if those jobs sometimes mean attending parties. tonight - it's a masquerade and you're bored out of your mind, until the man who hired you to protect him leaves you alone, at the mercy of a stranger who suddenly took a keen interest in you.

➺ 𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕕 𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥: 6,407

𝕒𝕦𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕣 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕖: and we're getting close to the end! what a ride so far! i loved writing this chapter because writing jealousy and envy is always a lot of fun for me, but i digress! enjoy ♡~

➺ 𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥: [link]

Upon your return you didn’t have a chance to send Astarion a message of any kind because the day after you came back the Duke himself demanded you accompany him to a celebratory ball. It appears one of his generals performed well in battle while you were away and begrudgingly you agreed. It would not do you well to scorn the ruler of Baldur’s Gate.

But as you are preparing for the ball, finding your finest dress and making sure that it’s clean and ironed, you wonder if you really have no time to send a message or if you simply don’t want to.

The answer comes simple – you don’t want to.

Not because you regret what happened in this very house two weeks ago before you left on a assassination mission to kill Princess, as you code-named her for secrecy, but because the thought of him turning you into one of his spawn haunts you.

He didn’t tell you that he abandoned the idea. No, he said nothing about that at all. And that’s something you cannot ignore.

While you dress and doll yourself up, you keep thinking about it, about the idea of being his like this and you realize that you really don’t want to be his thrall. That you don’t want to be his to command whenever he wishes. It’s already hard to assert yourself without that and how he cast Dominate on you proved exactly that without a shadow of doubt. It hangs heavily over you like a dark cloud, threatening to erupt in rain at any moment.

You know that before you see him next – you need to think, a lot. You need to figure out a way to give yourself what you want without giving Astarion what you are sure he will ultimately seek: your eternity.

When you finish preparing by hiding some smaller daggers on your person, you hear a carriage and a sound of horse hooves coming closer. You suspected that the Duke will send someone to pick you up to ensure that you show up. You find the man extremely predictable if not slightly paranoid. You don’t have an issue with that, you rub elbows with paranoid men every day.

The trip to the city center doesn’t take too long but you use that time to keep pondering upon the conflict in your mind and heart. Yes, you have to really and truly admit to yourself – you like Astarion. And it stretches beyond just carnal desire or the thrill of danger. You don’t even know why, you can’t answer this, what it is that exactly draws you to him like a moth to the flame, you just hope that the flame won’t consume you. And as you watch houses and people pass by the carriage window you feel a knot of dread in your stomach – you’re playing a very dangerous game with a man that holds unforeseen power in his hands.

Is risking your life really worth it? For something that could be just a fleeting fancy for either of you? And yet you realize that it’s too late for this already. While the carriage navigates the streets and begins slowing as it approaches a massive mansion in the middle of the city, you understand with a sinking feeling that you should’ve been honest with yourself and had this ‘conversation’ with your inner self before Astarion showed up at your house. But you didn’t know then that you will agree to… what exactly did you agree to? Another tryst? No, it didn’t feel like this sort of transient proposal from him. Not a relationship either, surely, too early for that, all you two did so far was fuck and shout at each other, a proper pissing contest between two very prideful people. Then what? You have no answer to that and have no time to think about this further as the carriage stops at last and the door opens, revealing the Duke in his best ensemble, offering a hand to you with a smile.

“Good evening.” he greets you before you take his hand and your skirts as you climb out of the carriage.

“Good evening to you too, Duke Sanolin.” you smile, easily slipping into your role of a perfectly pleasant, well-mannered noble woman. You don’t hate the role, but your words feel empty and shallow even when you greet the Duke.

“I take the road here was pleasant? City planners made sure to increase quality of the roads leading out of the city. Merchants have easier and swifter time traveling this way.” Duke starts boasting and you nearly recoil when you notice him offering you his elbow, but you just squeeze out a smile on your face and hook your arm exactly how he wishes.

You don’t reply because he doesn’t need you to speak. You are here to stay close to him as he mingles with patriars. You are here to look pretty while you discretely protect his life. You are here to smile and to nod and to be vigilant. Oh how you loathe these jobs.

However, when Duke Sanolin leads you inside and servants greet you both, offering wine and small snacks on silver platters, you scan the guests and see nobody you should keep an eye out on. There are some dangerous nobles among the masses of them in Baldur’s Gate. Some of them have relations with other Guilds, some are simply unhinged and unpredictable, some have grievances and revenge on their minds, but tonight you see no familiar faces, faces that you have memorized for safety. This makes your shoulders relax. Sure, someone undesirable might come yet, rich people are rarely punctual, but for now you feel more at ease than you expected yourself to be tonight.

And Duke is not some secretive heir like Lord Goldbrith or a boasting sex addict like Lord Witdale. No, Sanolin is a very educated man and a very social one to boot, so the moment you two enter the main ballroom, he quickly becomes surrounded by ladies and lords alike. Everyone wants to be on his good side and you too get acknowledged as someone who is accompanying him tonight, asking where his wife is. When Duke explains that his wife isn’t feeling well thus he decided to bring his ‘niece’ with him, most seem to stop questioning your presence, although you do notice a suspicious glance or two from those who don’t believe Duke’s innocent lie because they don’t know who you truly are, which is not that many of them, you suddenly realize. This party seems to have been assembled from people who rub elbows with the ruler of the city very closely, including yourself, and that makes your job easier – protecting someone of this importance is near effortless when he’s surrounded by his allies instead of enemies.

And then something dawns on you – could Astarion be here? You immediately begin to look around watching for signs of him, but so far you see nothing, yet it still doesn’t alleviate the panic beginning to claw at your chest and throat. You don’t like feeling paranoid but this is exactly the feeling that now overwhelms your mind, making your hands shake slightly as you hold the glass of wine and take small sips from it while keeping your eyes on the crowd as Duke Sanolin is talking to his political allies with you at his side.

You don’t fear Astarion, not really, you’re too proud for that, but what do you fear is a scene that he could cause if seeing you back instead of getting a message from you informing him about your return could lead him to anger. And you already know that Astarion’s anger can get pretty explosive with no regards to anyone around him unless forced to stop and think better.

For an hour or so you feel rising panic trying to replace all other senses in your mind and body, but thankfully Sanolin doesn’t notice anything, chatting away about things that dull your mind: trades, fashions and council meetings. Nothing useful for you to pay attention to. And when you finally feel like you can relax, that Astarion might not show up, you freeze, paralyzed with near animalistic fear when you notice him entering with a loud laugh, teasing the servant and making the young man blush.

Shit.

You turn your back to him and try to blend in with the nobles chatting up the Duke, trying to hide behind his own body and you empty your glass of wine in one gulp to calm your nerves. What is wrong with you? You faced enemies and threats bigger than Astarion’s possible anger for not receiving a simple note from you, but you immediately understand why – because you want to be with him and you feel like you betrayed whatever fragile start you two agreed upon those two weeks ago.

“Good evening, my dear.” you hear Astarion’s all too familiar voice croon behind you and your fingers clench the glass so firmly that you have to remind yourself to relax before it shatters in your hand.

You slowly turn to him, not bothering to plaster on a fake smile, and his crimson eyes immediately locks onto yours. Duke and his allies fall silent at the greeting and turn to Astarion as well, making minstrels that the host hired for tonight seem unreasonably loud even though that’s far from the truth.

“I was so hoping to see you tonight.” Astarion says and you hear traces of poison in his words, you notice the cold edge in his smile and hardness in his eyes.

“You know my niece?” Duke interrupts the stare-down and Astarion turns to the man, shaking his hand.

“Duke Sanolin, delighted to see you tonight. And yes, I do know your niece.” you near flinch at vampire’s emphasis on your fake title and you look at Duke, seeing that he and Astarion are exchanging some silent understanding, most likely about who you really are, the hired assassin.

“She’s a delight, isn’t she.” Duke smiles at you now and you feel his hand on your lower back as if trying to reassure you, it makes you feel like your heart is being squeezed and a flash of sorrow replaces your anxiety with the wish that your own father was ever this comforting. Alas, you quickly discard the self-pitying thought and smile back to him.

“I’m glad to be here tonight, surely.” you speak and sense Astarion’s gaze burn into you, but you pretend that you don’t feel it or see it.

“Duke Sanolin, would you mind if I stole your niece for a moment or two? There’s something I want to ask her about her… mother.” Astarion pauses as he tries to think of a lie on the spot but since Duke is perfectly aware of your line of work, after all that’s exactly why you’re here, he just gives Astarion a curious look and nods, his hand leaving your back.

“Just for a moment.” he says and Astarion laughs, waving his hand dismissively.

“You’re a powerful opponent in a fight, Duke, I’m sure you don’t need a small girl like her protecting you, do you?” Lord Ancunin says with a taunting grin and Sanolin narrows his eyes for a moment, but when his companions burst into lighthearted laughter, he relaxes and laughs along.

“Very true indeed. Go ahead then, steal my niece away, but I want her returned, sooner rather than later, she’s here to observe and to learn.” Duke lies with such conviction that you wonder if he’s becoming delusional, but you understand that maybe this is exactly why he’s a Duke – a good politician knows how to lie without a shadow of doubt in his own words.

Yet you don’t want to go with Astarion. Even when he pulls the empty glass out of your fingers you look at the Duke with questions in your eyes that you hope he can read.

“Are you sure I shouldn’t stay and… observe the conversations?” you ask as the men surrounding Duke now simmer down to chuckles and Duke pauses, then glances at Astarion, noticing his impatience. “I’m sure you won’t miss too much if you’re away for ten minutes or so.” he nods and your stomach clenches but you nod too and inhale deeply before you look at Astarion again, his gleeful expression looks more dangerous than actually happy to you, yet you don’t say another word.

“I will return her shortly.” Astarion ensures Duke Sanolin and when Duke nods to him as well, he briefly licks his lips. “Follow me.” the vampire gestures with a turn on his heel and begins leading you through the crowd.

With leaden feet and arms just as heavy you follow him, preparing yourself for the confrontation. The crimson daggers he was shooting at you the entire conversation, despite how brief it was, make you easily understand that Astarion is angry. Maybe not as angry as he was when he visited your home, but close enough to make you worry about what’s to happen.

The moment main crowd is behind you both, Astarion pauses and turns to you, then grabs your wrist and begins dragging you after him, ignoring servants and several scattered nobles loitering by the ballroom walls as you barely can keep up with him, your skirts burdening your steps.

“I can walk on my own!” you hiss behind him, not wanting to draw even more unneeded attention but you get ignored while Astarion navigates the hall, pulling you deeper into the bowels of the mansion until he arrives to the end of the corridor and pushes open the door.

You try to glance back, to see if anyone is watching, but don’t get the chance when Astarion pulls you into the room with enough force to make you stumble forwards, especially when he suddenly releases your wrist. When you spin around to face him, you watch him slam the door shut and turn the key in the lock, the snap of it sounding like a thunderstrike in the silent room.

Quickly you realize that you’re in party host’s private study as your eyes catch upon tall shelves, shields and paintings adorning the walls. The desk that you nearly ran into, that is now behind you, was empty when you briefly saw it and now you see two full armor knight suits by each side of the door.

At last Astarion turns to you. His expression is a deep frown and he tugs on the sleeves of his bejeweled white and silver attire, then smirks.

“So you’re back.” he starts and you open your mouth to reply but he swiftly raises his upturned palm to you, silencing your words before they leave you. “You’re back and you didn’t even bother telling me. For how long?” the vampire steps towards you and you move backwards away from him, not yet noticing that you’re doing that.

“Last night. I returned only last night and then this morning Duke’s note came.” you hear yourself rushing to explain but Astarion scoffs, his smirk wide and sharp and then it becomes even wider when you bump into the desk behind you, leaving you with no other place to retreat to.

“So instead of sending me a short, quick message that I know you are capable of, instead you prostrate yourself in front of all these rich politicians like a whore begging for attention. I thought I mattered to you more.” he taunts with fire and brimstone in his every word and you begin to feel sweat beading your forehead. Why are you so stressed about confronting him right now? You have no answer.

“I didn’t know I was married to you.” you bravely taunt back with a crooked grin, your palms grasping the edge of the desk and gripping it tight like it’s an anchor to a ship at sea because that’s exactly how you feel right now, lost in the storm that is about to crack the sky wide open.

Astarion pauses his steps at your words, his smirk faltering for a precious moment, then he tilts his chin upwards ever so slightly and takes couple last steps to end up right in front of you, just mere inches away, so close you can smell his perfume and see the dim light reflected in his irises from the few lit candles in the room.

“Would marriage be more preferable than becoming my spawn?” he asks and here it is, just as you suspected it will be – his desire to turn you into his thrall. You knew that he won’t give up the idea easily and you frown, finding your anger.

“Neither would be preferable. Look how you are acting! I do my work but you have the gall to insult me? Call me a whore?” you shoot back and straighten your back, your eyes harden as they look at him and Astarion’s own eyes narrow at your words.

“You told me you wanted me, to be with me.” his voice is dangerously low as he speaks but you don’t care, because what can he even do here, in the home of city’s general, with Duke not far either. Assured that Astarion wouldn’t risk exposing himself by hurting you - you feel emboldened.

“You came into my home and Dominated me, you bastard!” you raise your voice and Astarion’s hands twitch like he wants to do something, to strike you or maybe silence you. You don’t care either way.

“I didn’t force you to say what you said! You wanted it! You admitted it! Now you’re pretending like you haven’t said a word?!” Astarion’s own voice raises as you shout at each other now.

“I’m not pretending! But you’re insane if you think I will drop everything and just run to you the moment I’m back!”

“Why not?! Is carousing with these old cads that much preferable than coming to me?! You take their money so that they can roister with other fat slobs and you try to tell me that’s not what being a whore is?!” Astarion points his finger at you as he shouts, his features twisted in anger and you slap his hand away from your face.

“I’m not fucking them, you spoiled idiot!” you snap back and Astarion’s hand shoots up, his fingers wrap around your throat and start squeezing it.

“But what if you are?!” he hisses at your face while you try to pry his hand off your neck and it finally dawns on you �� he’s jealous, isn’t he. He’s jealous because he saw you with the Duke.

“Let go.” you manage to croak with Astarion barely letting you take in any air while your nails scratch at his hand leaving marks, but it’s like he doesn’t even notice that, his crimson eyes blazing with fury and envy that you chose your work over doing something as small as letting him know you’re back.

“No. It’s time you learn once and for all – you are mine.” a wicked grin suddenly appears on his face and while you try not to panic at all the possibilities that can happen, you feel Astarion use his other hand to pull the dress off your shoulders in several harsh yanks, the seams straining and snapping.

“Astarion, what do you think you’re doing.” your voice is coarse, barely a whisper but he’s not even looking at you.

He’s holding you in place by your neck while he moves the dress down your arms, making you release his wrist when the fabric begins cutting into your skin, the garment then is moved lower, your breasts become exposed and you grit your teeth while Astarion moves the top of your dress to your waist, making sure that your wrists are still in the sleeves, binding them to your body this way.

“I know you want to be mine. You can’t deny it, I can hear your heart beating fast and not from fear, little assassin. I’ll show to you just how badly you want to belong to me” vampire responds with a degree of calmness in his voice and when his eyes finally raise to your face, he notices a traitorous blush on your cheeks. “You’re so beautiful when you are forced into submission.” he whispers and you part your lips to speak but stop when you feel the heat of his palm on your breast, fondling it, squeezing it, then his fingertips find your hardened nipple and pluck at it, making you gasp ever so softly with your neck still being squeezed. Your body responds to the rough teasing, desire begins to uncoil in your lower abdomen and for a moment you hate it.

“Stop it!” you manage a whisper and finally Astarion’s fingers on your neck relent, letting you inhale more air but also making you slightly dizzy in the process. You try to remove your hands from your dress sleeves, feeling like you’re being shackled but Astarion interrupts your attempt by harshly kissing you on the mouth.

Your lips were parted as you were gasping for air and he wastes no time to slip his tongue into your mouth. You try to lean back from him but all you achieve is Astarion biting down on your lower lip just for a moment and grabbing your hips, lifting them so that you drop on the desk on your back with a thud. You lift your head to look at him and notice his eyes scanning your exposed chest while he moves your body for you, pushing it more onto the desk.

“What do you think you’re doing! It’s host’s office!” you hiss with both anger and slightly panicked concern that someone might come looking for you, sooner rather than later, but it’s like Astarion doesn’t hear you.

Annoyed that he’s treating you like this you try to free your wrists again only for him to grab at the fabric in a way that it brings both of your hands together and he tsks at you, his eyes meeting yours for a moment while he grins.

“Don’t struggle little assassin, you know you want this just as much as I do.” he says almost calmly if not for his eyes betraying his passion and desire.

“I have to go back, Duke-“

“Fuck the Duke.” Astarion suddenly snaps at you, clearly unhappy that you still try to resist him, try to argue with him, because obviously he doesn’t care about anything but this moment and you. “I will do whatever I please, to whoever I please, whenever I please.” his words are choppy and you feel your heart skip a beat at this. You realize that his arrogance and assurance that nobody can stop him is exactly what you find so alluring about him.

“Astarion-“

“No, no more words from you.” his brows are furrowed and with other hand he finds his way under your dress, finding your underwear and yanking it down with three swift, practiced pulls, wrangling it down your legs with ease. You watch him with surprise because he’s so different right now compared to two other times you fucked. There’s something else about him now, less charm and more confidence? No, that’s not right.

Dominance.

Dominance urged by his jealousy and his desire to make you finally submit.

And then his eyes flash red at you before you notice him holding your undergarment before he bunches it up in his fist and pauses just for a second. Astarion then quickly leans over you, his hand releasing your dress and now gripping your jaw, pushing his thumb and index finger into your cheeks until you are forced to open your mouth. Not that you resist much, caught completely off-guard by his sudden attack. You make a sound of protest and then your own underwear gets shoved into your mouth. You make another noise, startled and shocked but Astarion only clamps a palm over your lips with a grin.

“I think it’s for the best if you remain quiet for now.” he says with a bitter tone and you know he’s still angry, you can see it in his eyes, the possessiveness that he doesn’t even try to fight, because right now he just embraces it. You are his, that’s how he sees it, and he’s ought to teach you that once and for all.

Your eyes scan the room while you try to figure your way out of this predicament and while you’re not looking Astarion leans back from you, his palm leaving your mouth and for a brief second you try to push the fabric out of your mouth, but then clamp on it with your teeth when you feel two fingers plunge into your cunt. Your eyes immediately snap back to Astarion who’s watching his digits begin to pump in and out of you, enjoying how your body responds by clenching and releasing, getting wetter for him by the second. A smirk widens on his face as his gaze remains locked on your core swallowing his fingers with a wet sound.

“This is how I like you best, my little assassin. Submissive and eager for me.” Astarion croons, his jealous anger finally dissipating into nothing, replaced by pure desire. Palm of his other hand presses against the inside of your right thigh then pushes your legs wider apart and the tip of his tongue licks at his upper lip. “You will look absolutely wonderful as you stand by my side in the Crimson Palace.” he speaks more to himself than to you now, his fingers curling and stroking your inner walls, making you shiver and breathe faster as fire quickly spreads through your body, making you forget your fight at least for the time being. “You don’t know it yet, but you will love to be mine, I promise you that, darling.”

Astarion’s eyes do not leave your spread legs when he pulls his fingers out of you, together drawing a muffled moan out of your throat and then his head dips down and you moan around your gag louder when his hot tongue greedily presses against your drenched folds. He licks them, parts them with the tip of his tongue and then rubs against the nub of your clit while his fingers return and spread your entrance, this time making you squirm as your legs shake from tension and uncomfortable position. Astarion has a free hand and he puts it to use, hooking one of your legs over his shoulder while his tongue slithers down from your clit to your wide open cunt and he fills it with eager devotion. You mewl as you watch him with strained from pleasure expression, but soon your neck gets tired and you let your head drop back on the desk while vampire’s tongue explores you as deeply as it possibly can, making you pant out soft sighs at his ministrations.

“Ahh, delicious.” you hear Astarion exhale the moment his mouth leaves you and you exhale with relief when your body relaxes. “But that’s not all, little love.” he coos and your heavy-lidded eyes find his face. You watch him lick his lips, then quickly undo his pants, first the belt, then the buttons and then he pulls out his hard cock, the tip of it glistening with precum, and your throat involuntarily attempts to swallow, the gag in your mouth becoming drenched with your saliva. Astarion laughs. “I see the hungry look in your eyes, but don’t worry, I will give you exactly what you want.” a wicked grin and then he aims his length at you, teasing the tip against your wetness. “So ready for me with so little effort. You’re so easy.” he taunts with a chuckle and you blush heavily because something about how he says it makes your blood run faster and compels you to want to please him.

With a soft hum as he watches himself tease your cunt with his velvety tip Astarion finally pauses, nudging your entrance, pushing in just a little bit and then pulling back. His eyes flick to you to watch your reaction as he does it again and again, making your brain lose any thought except for all-consuming desire for him to stop it, to just fuck you, you’re not used to these types of games, but it looks like this is exactly why Astarion is doing this. He’s enjoying driving you crazy and it’s written all over your face how impatient you are already.

“I wish I could hear you beg, make you put that sweet mouth of yours to good use for once, but alas.” Astarion muses and just as you furrow your brows at his words he wipes everything from your mind by thrusting deeply and powerfully into you.

You cry out, your underwear in your mouth muffling nearly all of it and you watch Astarion smile widely, satisfied by your receptive reaction.

“Good girl, I prefer when you don’t struggle.” he teases and begins pumping.

His pushes are slow in the beginning and Astarion grabs your wrists now, holding them together at your waist as he increases his pace, plunging into you faster and harder. You mewl at his every shove into your core and watch his perfect curls lose their assembly with each passing moment, you see the sweat appear on Astarion’s forehead and his eyes are focused on your breasts that are swinging invitingly as he fucks you on top of this desk and yet he smirks, satisfied with himself.

“You’re perfect. Every time I have you like this I realize it more and more. You’re perfect…” his own voice starts becoming strained, his thrusts hard and heavy, and you wrap your legs around his hips, pushing him deeper into you, making him glance up at your eyes. “Just perfect…” he affirms and bites his lower lip while his face flushes with his physical exertion and his eyes move from yours to your lips, then to your neck.

No, you can’t stop yourself, this feels too good and you bite on your gag as you watch yourself being fucked by a man who you tried to resist for so long. For so long you were trying to escape the truth, deeper truth than that you have feelings for him. Truth, that the thought of being his spawn is not as unappealing as you kept trying to convince yourself. And as his cock strokes you deep inside, making you feel more than pleasure, more than a temporary satisfaction, making you feel like you are wanted and needed, you let go and close your eyes, letting yourself enjoy this fully. But that’s what you were looking for all your life – someone to take charge and just allow you to enjoy yourself. Maybe that’s what you want for eternity too.

You suddenly gasp, brought back to the present as you feel Astarion’s fangs pierce your breast. When you open your eyes you now see that his mouth is wrapped tightly around your left nipple, his tongue moving against it, sucking hard, soothing the pain from his fangs now embedded into your supple flesh. Your eyes meet his when he lifts his red gaze to you and you see nothing but desire in them even through the curl now hanging over his face.

With a wet sound Astarion release your breast and you notice two puncture wounds, slowly beginning to seep blood while he straightens his back, his face covered in sweat and his lips painted in crimson, then his hands move and force your legs open, making you release the grip of your thighs on his hips with ease.

“You’re mine and you will be forever be mine.” Astarion says it with such conviction that you don’t think, you just nod to him as your dry throat tries to make your moans louder. “Yes? Nod again.” he commands and you nod eagerly again while he handles your legs by grabbing underside of your thighs and pushing them up, then down, nearly bending you in half as his cock manages to slide even deeper into you than before. “Good girl.” Astarion’s voice becomes audibly strained but he grins from under his eyebrows and begins thrusting again, making your eyes roll to the back of your head.

Your fingers clench at your dress harder and harder but you don’t notice that at all, instead you arch your neck and let out cry after cry with every mind-numbing pump only to be silenced by your gag. Astarion is panting too, his groans and moans louder and louder each time his body rocks against yours. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room alongside your voices and your back arches, you’re so close now, so close to the promised release.

“Fuck, you feel so good, I don’t think I will ever get tired of fucking you.” Astarion’s heat of passion has taken over him and he pounds into you with reckless abandon now, chasing his own climax without caring to tease you or prolong it any longer.

And then a knock on the door. Astarion doesn’t stop, doesn’t even flinch but you open your eyes, trying to gather your scattered thoughts to understand what’s going on.

“I can hear you in there! Come out at once!” Duke Sanolin’s voice barely registers in your clouded mind and more bangs on the door do not delay the orgasm that is approaching you like a tidal wave. “Do you hear me?!” an angry voice, but you don’t care. Rest of the bangs and words fade from your reality when you close your eyes again.

“Get the FUCK away from the door!” you suddenly hear Astarion snap angrily and the banging on the door stops.

You whine with pleasure, ignoring all of this and feel Astarion bend over you, squishing you underneath him as his tongue leaves a hot trail on your skin between your breasts. And then his voice reaches your mind, a strained whisper.

“Come for me, my love.” he nips at your right breast, his thrusts not relenting and it’s like this is all you needed to hear. You let go.

With a scream of pleasure behind your gag you come, your body straining, your cunt clenching around Astarion’s cock and with a loud groan he climaxes, spilling inside of you and filling you while his erratic thrusts try to prolong the bliss even for a second more. You don’t even feel how Astarion’s fingers dig deep into your thighs as he loses control and everything disappears except your satisfaction until it finally retreats and your body relaxes.

You lay there, gasping for air and finally remember that you can just spit out your gag. Yet before you do, you feel it being pulled from between your teeth and when you open your eyes, you see Astarion gently removing your underwear from your mouth. He smiles to you and then places a kiss on your dry lips, wetting them with his tongue.

“You did so well, my love, so well.” he praises as he gently lets you lower your legs and you try to gather your scattered mind, trying to catch your breath.

“Someone was here. Duke… It was the Duke.” you murmur and Astarion only chuckles.

“Yes he was and now he isn’t. It doesn’t matter. All that matters is you and me. Be mine, little assassin. Be mine forever. You can’t tell me that eternity of us doesn’t sound good.” Astarion’s lips that were whispering against yours now move down to your neck and you tense for a moment, only for him to chuckle and look back at you. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to turn you here.”

“But you are going to turn me.” you begin to find your voice despite your throat feeling raw and Astarion gently rubs a pad of his thumb against your lower lip.

“You want it. I know you do. You want me to take care of you.” he whispers and something breaks in you, snaps in a way you never expected. What’s the point in lying and pretending.

What’s the point in struggling only to die.

The promise of immortality. A promise of eternity with him. Do you feel this strongly about Astarion? But as you look at his tired, sweaty face, as you see his smile that looks genuine and as you see desperate yearning in his eyes you realize that yes, you do.

“I want it.” you respond in barely a whisper and Astarion’s eyes widen for a moment, then he smiles.

“Wonderful.” he says but then pulls back from you, sliding himself out of you and letting his cum seep out of your sore cunt before he helps you sit up and free your hands from binds of your own dress.

You glance up at him as you rub your wrists but you’re allowed that only for a moment before Astarion draws you off the desk and into his arms, holding you firmly. His kiss is sudden and scorching while you still try to recover from everything but his happiness is obvious. Then he leans back before you are even able to kiss him back, his palms quickly move to cradle your face as he looks at you with relief on his face.

“Come to the palace. Tomorrow. I will have everything ready so that your step into immortality is perfect. I promise you this, my little assassin, I will make sure that you don’t regret this.” Astarion whispers and your heart beats faster in your chest. You heard promises like this before, many times, but somehow when it’s Astarion who’s saying them - you believe him.

“Tomorrow?” you ask, still dazed and trying to process everything.

“Leave the details to me. Just come to me when sun goes down. And… don’t change your mind.” he frowns slightly, as if worried you might not appear but you sigh and grasp his waist, pulling your body against his. There’s no fight left in you anymore, just acceptance. So you smile and give him a brief kiss.

“I’ll be there tomorrow evening, as you wish.” you promise and Astarion’s gaze slips down your face, then to your neck ever so briefly before his eyes are on yours again.

“I’ll be waiting.”

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #astarion #lord astarion #ascended astarion #astarion x reader #x reader #female reader #reader insert #astarion x female reader #astarion fic #astarion smut #my fics #darkness of seven

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seraphinitegames · 6 months ago

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The Wayhaven Chronicles—Update 03/April/2024

Do you ever have a week where there’s so much going on, but it feels really good to tick so many tasks off your list?

Well, I had one of those weeks, hehe! :D

First up was finishing up all the edits to the demo section, which went super smoothly, and it was great fun reading the comments from them. I always appreciate how they take the extra time to write what they’re enjoying, or their fun reactions to things that happen as they edit!

Then it was onto social media days! The sporadic internet has still been a major obstacle, but I actually managed to get on long enough to get some asks done! That was great fun getting to do those and indulge in getting to talk about Wayhaven even more with you guys, hehe!

With the Patreon content, I worked on the sketch for Adam/Ava’s masquerade mask for the upcoming ball in Book Four, which was both awesome because I loved the ideas and inspiration I had for it, but also was nice to get some drawing in! That’ll be going up on Patreon later this month!

And then I even managed to get a massive amount done on Chapter Two! Way more than I expected yet again, so this chapter is seriously moving on at a pace! I was actually starting to think I’d get it finished next week…but then I decide to move a big chunk from the start of Chapter Three to the end of Chapter Two, lol.

The flow will be much better. Where it ended before would have been a great cliffhanger at the end of Chapter Two but it just…it didn’t feel like where it should have ended. So, moving that section now makes it feel more like the chapter I wanted.

This new ending section does contain more variation to account for love interests, etc, so will take a bit longer, but at least that means it will also make the second demo section that much more chunkier! :D

But the first demo section is now with my final set of readers, so hopefully not long until I get to share that with you all!

I hope you all have the most amazing weekend! We'll be offline as usual, so I'll update you all again next week! <3

#the wayhaven chronicles #interactive fiction #romance #vampires #update #choice of games #hosted games #choicescript #the wayhaven chronicles book 4 #twc book 4

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monstersandmaw · 4 months ago

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Monthly story - male gargoyle x gender neutral reader (nsfw)

This is becoming absurd. 2-5k words is what I aim for with these monthly stories.

This one?

It's 17,677 words, and it's broken down into SIX chapters (internally - I'm sharing the whole thing in one go here). May's story felt long, then June's, now this one? I'm going to have to reel myself in for August or, should I say, Taurgust... :)

Anyway. Oof...!

Content: controlling/manipulating family member holds power over the reader and uses your skills as a thief to rob a powerful vampire's castle at very short notice. Turns out the amulet is better guarded than your uncle thought, and now you've got to explain yourself to a very grumpy, seven foot tall gargoyle. Tropes include: 'Big Grumpy won over by Smol(er) Sunshine', heist gone wrong, forced proximity/working together as punishment, 'the boss totally ships it', reader's life is in danger (not from the romantic lead), mated/fated bond, submissive monster towards reader.

Wordcount: 17,677

Extract:

“You want me to do what?” you blurted, staring your uncle down with a mix of astonishment and kindling unease.

The older man rolled his eyes and leaned back in his throne-like office chair, regarding you across his heavy, oak desk with a look of disdain and contempt.

His brother’s child you might be, but you were pretty worthless in his eyes. You had no magic, after all, and in a line of mages and witches and sorcerers, and even a warlock here and there, you were as useless as, in his words, a screen door on a submarine.

But there was something you were good at: sneaking into places where you shouldn’t be, and if you returned sometimes with something that wouldn’t be missed — at least not until you were long gone — then perhaps your uncle could find a use for you after all. The only problem was that in return for keeping you safe and shielded from those you’d robbed – by his position on the Council of Mages and his general lofty position in the world of the supernatural – he could always ask you to do just one more job for him. That was how, even into adulthood, you found yourself largely beholden to him.

“I said, I want you to steal the Amulet of Protection from Rafael da Liro, and return to me with it.”

“You want me to break into a pureblood, elder vampire’s castle and steal an amulet that makes its wearer immune to vampire compulsion?”

“You can even put it on while you get it out of there,” he said with magnanimous sarcasm. “But it comes straight to my hands afterwards, understand?”

“How?” you exhaled. “How the fuck am I supposed to do that?”

“Language, child,” he tutted and you ignored the patronising stab. “I’ll glamour you, and you’ll attend the Winter Solstice ball he’s having in three nights’ time at Riverwatch.”

Three nights. You had three. fucking. nights. to prepare. Instead of voicing that, you asked, “He’ll accept a non-magical human as a guest at one of the fanciest supernatural gatherings of the year?”

“Of course he will,” your uncle sneered. “The Montilliets owe me a favour and I’ve cached it in at last for this. You’ll go in place of their youngest — you’re about the same age and height already, so the glamour will sit comfortably on your skin.”

“And you’ll keep the child of one of the most powerful families in the kingdom locked up here while I masquerade around wearing a stolen face at some rich vampire’s party? That’s your plan?” You shook your head, “It’ll never work. He’ll see through it, or he’ll have some enchantments that will.”

“No,” he said, speaking slowly, as if to a preschooler. “No, he won’t, because he’s inviting one or two guests who never leave their homes without a glamour. Some of the Fae, for example, will be in attendance, and, if the rumours are to be believed, several demon lords will be in attendance. If you see the true face of one of those horrors, your own will melt right off.” He laughed, as if you’d actually swallow down such a boogieman tale.

Of course you wouldn’t. You might not have had your own magic, but you read. Enough to know how magic worked — the fundamentals at any rate — and you knew that while some demons had the power to make your flesh melt off your bones, it wasn’t passive. They could look alarming enough to break the mind of a ‘vulgaris’ or non-magical human like you, of course, but it wasn’t the same.

Your uncle shrugged and you took it for the dismissal it was. “You’ll figure out the rest.”

“Can I at least get some info on the place? Do you know where the amulet is kept? How heavily guarded it is? What kinds of protective enchantments are on it? Security on the night?”

“That’s what the library’s for,” he said, making a shooing gesture with his fingertips, as if you were a mote of dust that was marring the air in front of his desk. “I’ve even had Morag lay out all the relevant information there for you. Now go.”

It took you two days and nights of barely any sleep or rest to figure out a plan that had even the faintest hope of succeeding, but it was the riskiest and least well-planned job you’d ever attempted.

Morag, bless her, helped where she could by fetching relevant books and scrolls and data files on Riverwatch Castle and Rafael da Liro from the archives, which she had been employed to order and guard. When she wasn’t doing that, she broke her own rules about food in the library, and brought you meals.

As dawn broke on the day of the ball, you twitched awake with your arms splayed across a plan of the castle’s lower-most floors as the selkie tapped you on the shoulder and signed, “Breakfast, sweetheart. It’s on the table over there.”

“Thanks,” you signed back, fumbling the gesture around your exhaustion as you surfaced from a deep but spine-crunchingly uncomfortable sleep, slumped over your research. Voicing your next words just to see if your vocal cords were still working after two and a bit days cooped up in the library with only its mute guardian for company, you added, “Hope I didn’t drool on anything important…”

Morag exhaled a huffing laugh and signed, “No, but if that plan of the dungeon is still printed onto your palm by the time you get to the castle, remember to wear gloves, and mirror it in your head if you use it to navigate.”

Your eyes went wide and you stared at your palms, but luckily there was nothing there. “Quit messing with me, you menace,” you growled harmlessly, pushing yourself to your feet and grunting as your back and shoulders protested such a poor choice of sleeping position.

Not wanting to be ungrateful to Morag for her efforts in keeping you fed, you picked at the pastries and sipped the coffee she’d brought you, but your stomach churned and you found yourself gazing into the dark pool of coffee as though you could scry the outcome of the night in its inky oblivion.

Your plan, such as it was, involved attending the party, and either seducing one of the other guests into sneaking off into a quiet hallway before spritzing them with a potion that would make them leave and forget that they’d been with you, leaving you free to get down to the dungeon where the vault lay.

Getting access though would require the use of the two seal-breakers which your uncle had grudgingly allowed you to take. The small, single-use charms were confined to two, peach-pit sized stones which would stick where you placed them and would shear through the strings of almost any enchantment. The problem was that they released a small blast of magic that could be detected by magic users, and they were incredibly difficult to make, which was why your uncle only had two for you. They would also shatter your glamour, so you’d have to get out of there without being seen or stopped.

Your other plan, which you really didn’t fancy, was to seduce Rafael himself and get him to give you a tour. You could lace your blood with a potion that would then render him unconscious at the first taste, since apparently he enjoyed drinking from the necks of willing humans. Using him as a distraction wouldn’t necessarily have to be about sex in that case, but it seemed a bit of a long shot all the same. For a five hundred year old vampire, who had been patron to some of history’s finest artists and musicians, some random human vulgaris was hardly going to be appealing enough to lead on a private tour of his most prized magical artefacts after only one evening. That was if you could even get close enough to him to attract his attention in the first place…

“Fuck,” you exhaled softly, your breath stirring the steam of the coffee that rose in a steady, mesmeric spiral from the white mug before you. “This is never going to work.”

...

If this were a commission, it would be worth over £170 due to its length, but you can read it for just $5 (or your country's equivalent) on Patreon right now, plus the previous two exclusives have also been over 10k words. You'll have access to my entire back catalogue too, and lifetime membership to the super chill Discord server!

Click here for Patreon!

#gargoyle #gargoyle x reader #male gargoyle x reader #male gargoyle x gender neutral reader #gender neutral reader #monster romance #fantasy romance #exophilia

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alexusonfire · 1 year ago

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Warmth of Your Doorways - Chapter Five

Jane Murdstone x dressmaker!Reader

Written in collaboration with dearest heart @daydream-cement 🩷

Warnings: Mentions of domestic violence

Summary: Pomegranates and unexpected visitors.

The days leading up to the Ball all meshed into one another, the dress shop busier than ever as the local ladies tried to upstage one another with their fanciful ideas. You and Mary had been nearly run to the ground, your hands and elbows sore from the constant work, the sewing and fitting and endless chatter. You slump into bed only to be awoken what felt like minutes later to yet another woman in a tizzy over her outfit choices.

Jane hadn't had a chance to visit either, as she was busy helping prepare Lady Marjory's home to host. She'd taken to mostly ordering about the staff, ensuring everything was done in an efficient and timely manner (though she was known to rearrange and adjust as she saw fit.) Though she too was exhausted, her mind often wandered to you, what you were doing, when she could see you again.

Her heart ached for you, in a way it never had before.

She thought about popping down for dinner that evening, but once it was revealed that they were short on not one, but four table settings, she had no choice but to simply dart past your shop and instead use her time at the local cutler. She did take a moment to peek in your window however, an instant calm loosening her shoulders the second you came into view. You didn't see her of course, too focused on the two women seemingly bickering in front of you, but she didn't mind. A moment to admire you, the way your forehead scrunched and chin tilted when you were concentrating, was all the motivation she needed for the rest of the evening.

The eve of the Ball finally arrived, and you both sighed in relief as the last stitch was sewn and plate set. You hurriedly tidied up your station, eager to have a chance to clean up before heading over to Jane's. Tonight you would have her all to yourself, no risk of interruptions or being called away. The entire town would be so engrossed in the glitz and glam they wouldn't care less about two women in love spending their evening together. You picked out your prettiest lilac evening dress and tossed your hair half up before making your way out the door, the cool night air helping soothe the sudden butterflies in your stomach. You'd missed Jane, more than you'd care to admit to most, and were eager to finally have her in your arms again.

You arrived early (7:00pm rather than 8:00pm when the party began), but you knew Jane wouldn’t be offended by your overzealousness. When you wandered up to the home, the front door was open so you allowed yourself to enter Lady Marjory’s home in search of Jane.

As you passed through the front doors, the already lavish home was decorated in the most intriguing decorations - all of which added to the masquerade theme of the evening. You must have lost track of time admiring the decor as the feeling of a hand grasping yours and tugging you backwards made you yelp in shock. The power of the other person sent you stumbling around backwards until your chest made contact with theirs.

The next few events were a blur. In a flash, the stranger pulled you under the staircase and had you pressed against a wall to kiss you breathless. Eyes open wide with confusion, you looked to see the perpetrator of this affection, feeling quite silly when you saw it was Jane. Immediately the confusion of being grabbed by a stranger was replaced with the joy of being in your lover’s arms.

You quickly returned her affections. Winding your arms around her middle, you held her as close as possible, not wanting the kiss to end anytime soon. The kiss soon increased in fervor as Jane’s hands came up to hold you by your cheeks. She was trying to convey every ounce of missing you as she opened her mouth into the kiss, her tongue brushing against your bottom lip swiftly before she took your bottom lip between her teeth.

While you knew you were ruining a perfectly romantic moment, Jane’s intensity made you giggle against her lips. She didn’t seem too disappointed as your joy brought a smile to the serious woman’s lips.

Jane parted the kiss, but stayed close, her forehead pressed against yours, “I missed you, sweeting…”

A smirk played on your lips, raising Jane’s hands near your mouth. “I missed you, Janey. How has the party planning been? Everything looks wonderful.” You broke up your sentences into bits by placing kisses to the inside of both Jane’s exposed wrists. Your eyes swept over her face, and the blush that crept over the ravenette’s cheeks was perhaps the most adorable thing you had ever seen.

Jane’s body leaned into your touch, her form pressing you against the wall. She was in desperate need of your touch. She was in desperate need of your comfort.

Her arms wound you into a tight hug, speaking softly in your ear, “I’ve never seen Marjory so… tense, but after tonight, everything will finally be back to normal. More tea times… More shared meals… More time together…”

“I’ve been awaiting tonight with such desperation, Janey. I cannot wait to be alone with you, my love…” Jane’s hug slowly softened as she listened to your words. All of your words mimicked her own feelings perfectly, only reminding Jane why she loved you so.

At the mention of being alone, Jane took you by the hand once more, pulling you from the privacy beneath the staircase back around the banister, and you followed her up the stairs. When you were about halfway up, you heard Marjory’s melodic voice calling from behind you, “Nice to see you too, Y/n! Goodnight Janey! I had Mr. Smith leave a few wares in your room so you can have a pleasant evening.”

Marjory’s teasing words made you laugh while Jane only tried to hide her embarrassment. There was no stopping the ravenette from pulling you all the way to her room at the end of the hall. She was absolutely giddy to have you all to herself for an entire romantic evening.

You took care to keep quiet and unseen, lest you come across a stray party-goer, but as soon as her door was closed Jane had you pressed to it, her lips on yours once more in giddy excitement; truly, you couldn't get enough of eachother, the few short days apart feeling like months. After she had kissed you breathless, she pulled back and gestured towards the fruit plate and wine laid out on the small sitting table.

"Are you hungry dearest? I'm sure you haven't had a chance to eat much… as admittedly, neither have I."

You simply nodded, letting her take you by the hand and lead you to the table. She pulled out your chair, gesturing for you to sit, and you couldn't help but giggle at her chivalry.

"My my, you're quite the gentlewoman, Jane Murdstone."

Jane merely tsked and moved her chair to sit beside you, a gesture you found incredibly endearing. You both picked through the fruit, idly swapping stories of the last few days. She made a few passive aggressive remarks about the rude ladies you'd had to deal with, and you laughed at Jane's descriptions of the "blundering buffons" she was "forced" to work with. At some point your thighs and shoulders had pressed together, her hand gently resting on your thigh; this was the closeness you'd been craving for days, and you felt so at home now that you had it.

Jane was in the midst of telling you how awful the one kitchen maid was when she noticed you staring strangely at one of the fruits.

"Sweeting? Have I lost you?"

"Mmm? Oh, sorry, I was just trying to figure out what this one was."

You used your fork to point to the reddish round fruit, and Jane smiled as she reached forward to pick it up.

"This is a pomegranate dear. Have you ever tasted one before?"

You shook your head, your heartbeat picking up at the way her smile turned into a smirk.

"Would you like to?"

Low, sultry, enticing. You could barely form a thought at her change of tone, and again merely nodded your head, cheeks heating at the delight in her eyes. You watched as she picked up a small paring knife and sliced open the fruit, its juices dribbling down her wrist.

You had a sudden urge to reach forward and lick them away.

You continued to watch in silence as she pulled open the pomegranate, revealing plump, bright red seeds. Jane used a small spoon to carefully scoop some of them out, then held it out towards you.

"Open."

"You're going to be the death of me, little violet."

The small command left you heated, and could do nothing but comply, always eager to please her. She gently tilted the spoon towards your tongue, and your tastebuds were suddenly filled with a sticky, tart sweetness that somehow reminded you of Jane herself. As you chewed you felt a small drip of juice run down your chin, and Jane was quick to reach out and swipe it away with her thumb. Before she could pull back, you took her wrist and brought her thumb to your lips, sucking it into your mouth to lick up the juice, exactly as you'd wanted to earlier. Jane's eyes widened, her pupils nearly overtaking her entire iris; before you could comprehend what was happening, she'd pulled you onto her lap, pressing you flush to her as her hands wandered your thighs and torso.

Those words made your stomach swirl with butterflies, and soon your tongues began battling. Soft hums and moans churned from Jane’s throat, her hands coming to grip the fabric of your dress so as to begin pulling it upward to expose your thighs. She needed her hands against your skin, so she could squeeze palm-fulls of flesh.

Your hands took to Jane’s hair, beginning to unpin her mess of black curls so they could fall around her shoulders. As the kisses increased in intensity, you found a burning growing in the pit of your stomach. This was the same fire that was plaguing you since your intimate relationship with Jane began growing deeper and stronger.

A whine escaped your lips when Jane parted the kiss. Her hand had moved to rest at the base of your neck, gently pushing you away for her hungry graze to drink you in once more.

Jane’s grip on your neck tightened slightly, holding you in place as her other hand reached past you in search of the wine. Butler Smith had left it open, so Jane swiftly poured a single glass, bringing it back between the both of you when it was three quarters full. “Thirsty, sweeting?”

Nodding, you opened your mouth to speak, but Jane silenced you by moving her hand to your face so as to hold your head still for her to feed you the wine herself. She had tilted the glass too high on purpose, leading the wine to flow down the sides of your mouth as you gulped at the sweet fermented grape juice. When Jane thought you had enough, she placed the glass on the table once more.

Her next movements caused you to whimper. Jane guided you to gaze up at the ceiling and the next thing you knew, Jane’s tongue was gliding up your neck to the corner of your mouth. She repeated the same process on the other side and when you looked back down at her, she was sucking the wine that had run over her thumb.

One thing had led to another, and a bottle of wine had been split between the both of you within the hour. Between Jane feeding you wine and you offering the same to her, you had licked and sucked at one another’s fingers and necks to the point that everything still remained sticky, but you were both too dazed and aroused to notice.

Mid-makeout, the orchestra had risen in volume from the party below, leading you to break off the kiss once more. The alcohol had emboldened you causing you to rise from your love’s lap and offer you her hand, “May I have this dance, my love?”

You had planned for your dancing to be a grand waltz with dips and twirls and laughs, but once Jane stood and entered your embrace, all you could do was hug her and sway side to side. Jane had no qualms with this however as her hand came to rest on the back of your neck, effectively tucking your head under her chin.

Jane spoke up softly, her voice filled with strong emotions as it cracked when she called you by her pet name, “I have never loved someone the way I love you, my little violet.”

Knowing Jane could be on the verge of tears made you hold her to you tighter, your lips placing tender kisses to her collar bone between your sentences. “I shall never love again if I cannot love you, Janey. You will never go unloved by me… You are too well tangled in my soul…”

Jane felt as though her heart could nearly burst, needing to take a moment to comprehend how someone could love her so… and how she could love them so fiercely in return. Never had she dared dream of affections such as this, and now here you were, wrapped in her arms, whispering sweet nothings to her as you swayed to the distant music.

When the tune ended Jane stifled a giggle at your yawn, feeling the night heavy in her bones. You had spent hours loving and laughing and drinking, and now the call of her plush bed sheets rang out.

Before allowing you to fall into the pillows, she wet a cloth and tenderly wiped down your neck and chest, clearing any remnants of the earlier wine or fruits. Quiet giggles filled the room as you took turns undressing each other, skirts and corsets haphazardly tossed around you as lips met newly exposed skin. Dizzy from wine and love, you finally curled into each other beneath the blankets, Jane tucking you close underneath her chin.

"Sweetest of dreams, my darling girl."

You hummed happily, nosing along Jane's neck before placing a small kiss near her pulse.

"Sweet dreams, my love."

The next morning came all too quickly, the morning sun poking through the curtains rousing you. At first you were slightly perplexed, the lavender scented pillows throwing you off- until you felt a small puff of air hit your head, and you finally registered the warm body wrapped around you.

Jane.

A sleepy smile overtook your features, and you simply relaxed once more, enjoying waking up in your lovers arms; though this was the first time you had been able to do so, it felt so natural, so right. Like you'd never belonged somewhere more.

A rapid knocking at the door startled the two of you, Jane nearly tossing you out of bed in her haste.

"Jane? Janey please open up, and be quick!"

Marjory's voice had a slight panicked edge to it, which did not settle well in your stomach. You thought it best to stay mostly hidden under the covers, while Jane hurried to throw a nightdress on and open the door.

"Lady Marjory, what ever is the matter?"

"Jane, I'm so sorry to tell you this but… I'm afraid your brother has shown up, rather unexpectedly."

You noticed the way Jane's jaw muscle clenched, and her posture stiffened.

Interesting. Neither she nor Lady Marjory had ever spoken of a brother before, and for good reason it would seem. His sudden presence was not deemed welcome by the way Lady Marjory sounded and Jane stood. You felt your stomach clench unpleasantly once more.

"I see. Thank you Lady Marjory. Please do tell Edward I will ready myself, and then be down."

Jane's voice was cool and collected, but you could tell by the way her knuckles whitened against the door handle that she was just as unsettled as you were, if not perhaps more. With a final nod Jane shut the door, then turned to you with a sort of panicked urgency.

"I am terribly sorry sweeting but I'm afraid I must ask you to go. Edward- well, he's just-"

In a flash you were up and by her side, gently pushing your finger to her lips.

"A story for another time. Let me help you with your corsets and hair and I shall be off."

The notion of you helping her into her dress and pinning up her hair had Jane finally wearing a smile for you - happy for your time and love.

You helped Jane into one of her usual black dresses and cinched up her corset - pressing kisses to her neck and shoulders the whole while. When she was dressed, you sat her at her makeup table and began pinning her hair back into its tight bun. Jane’s pleasant smile soon faded at the thought of seeing her brother and her face turned downwards into an intense frown. Never in your time with Jane had you seen her so distraught.

Once Jane was fully ready, you wrapped your arms around her neck as she sat before the mirror, pressing kiss after kiss to her cheek. “Will I see you later, darling?”

“Of course, my love. I’ll- I’ll come to you though. There is no reason for you to be around my brother.” Jane murmured, leaning back into your embrace.

“Sounds delightful. The flowers are in bloom near work… I’d love to have you identify them.” You whisper, pulling away from the ravenette, knowing full well Jane could never resist an opportunity to identify a flower for you.

Jane and you swiftly said your goodbyes, filled with gentle caresses and sweet kisses. She soon slipped from the room, leaving you to swiftly ready yourself. Rather than wait for Jane to come back upstairs and help you stealthily slip out of Jane’s room, you push open her window and glance down at the trellis you had become well acquainted with during your nighttime visits to Jane’s rooms.

You carefully scampered down the trellis, not wanting to get caught by wandering eyes. As you walked home, there was a new spring in your step, almost skipping down the street as you thought of your love with Jane.

When Jane made her way down to the library, she gingerly closed the door behind herself and hadn’t even gotten a word out when Edward scolded her, “I don’t believe I should have to wait this long to see my own sister. Too busy with other matters, Jane?”

She only chose to remain silent, not indulging her brother’s petty behavior. When Jane lived with Marjory, she was intent on maintaining the right of running her life in the manner she saw fit. Jane wished to not allow Edward any control over her life now.

“I know what you are doing Jane. It needs to stop now… I saw your- your… woman leaving your rooms, Jane. You can’t continue with this… unnatural behavior. I won’t allow it.”

“You won’t allow what? I simply don’t know what you speak of, Edward. I work for Marjory… tend my garden… and do my embroidery.”

The smirk on Edwards face was nearly feral, and Jane could have fainted right then and there. She knew that look, knew it well. It meant pain, destruction, no mercy given. She'd done everything in her power to avoid that look her entire life, and thankfully had only been subjected to it a handful of times.

Now however, there would be no escape.

"Dear sister. Do you not recall the last time you dared lie to me about a woman sharing your bed?"

She flinched. She couldn't help it. The memories of pain filled her to the brim, the bruises that had lasted for weeks afterwards. How he had dragged poor, sweet Sarah by her hair-

Harlot. Slut. A disgrace to the family.

"I won't have it Jane. You will not be allowed to make a mockery of this family with your… indiscretions. Once you have that… stain of disgust you will never be rid of it. We will never be rid of it."

Jane swallowed the lump in her throat, a lifetime of shame welling up inside her. She desperately tried to recall the feeling of your hand in hers, soft and warm.

If only you were here with her now, would she have the strength to stand against him.

"Brother… please…"

His laughter was cruel, and struck Jane to the core. He allowed almost no space between them as he approached her, thrilling in the way she cowered despite their heights being evenly matched.

"End it, sister. Or I shall."

His breath hot on her face was nothing compared to the ice in her veins, the dread that seemed to spread all the way through to her fingertips. She dared not move until he finally left the room, doing her best to maintain her composure, no cracks, no weaknesses.

Nothing further for him to feed on.

#jane murdstone #jane murdstone x reader #jane murdstone x dressmaker!reader #gwendoline christie #warmth of your doorways

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