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yandere-sins · 2 years ago

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Helloo i broke my finger yesterday and i was wondering if you could do yan!genshin (Kaeya and rest up to you :)) ) reacting to their darling also having a broken hand. Have a great week and make sure to drink something byee :)

I hope you have a quick recovery! >-< Thank you for your request, I mixed some comfort in for you ^-^

a/n: YO, I SWEAR I READ THE REQUEST but I only now realized after finishing it you wanted reactions from multiple people. Sorry, I saw Kaeya and was instantly like, “Ah, yup, now I’ve got an idea for that guy!” and then only wrote him, I’m so sorry ;;

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

Everything could have been so perfect if not for the outbursts.

Sometimes it was him, sometimes it was you. Yours hardly counted as violent even though you tried to hit him with fists that were soft like pats and scratch him with nails as short as he could possibly trim them. The only things that really hurt him were your words, and even those he could choose to ignore or brush off as emotions put into sounds, nothing more, nothing less. As much as he loved hearing you talk, Kaeya never wanted to consider the poison-dripping, gut-wrenching insults you threw at him as something you really meant. So he pretended not to listen, chuckling even when it felt like you were stabbing daggers in his heart. Your relationship was special. So special, in fact, that he'd allow you to be a little toxic to him, enduring your harsher treatments of his feelings with the patience of a saint.

What he could not ignore was his name falling off your lips for the first time in months.

Just moments ago, he had dismissed the tantrum you were throwing, wooden floors creaking, and amenities squeaking as you pushed, rattled, and shoved things around in your way while he unpacked groceries for you to snack on and for dinner later. You needed to put out your energy somehow, especially when he wasn't as responsive as you'd like him to be. Luckily, everything was solid wood, not easily bothered by you either. One day, your anger would subside, Kaeya was sure. Then he'd buy you prettier things to make up for settling you into such an ungainly room, spoil you with all the finer things in life, for you to enjoy blissful days in your shared apartment.

But, alas, there was a prize to pay for the precaution he took.

"Kaeya..." you whimpered, his movements stilling as he straightened his back. The ruckus behind him had finally quieted down after one last loud bang, and a few seconds passed before you uttered his name in what he could only assume must have been desperation for him to acknowledge you. Though when he whipped around, happy to give you his attention if you asked so sweetly, his eye flew wide open as he fixated on your form, sunken to the floor into a pitiful puddle, cradling your arm against your chest. It made him realize in shock that it wasn't the need to have his attention that made you call out. It was pain.

"Kaeya, it hurts," you sobbed, tears brimming your eyes, body shaking. Your vision must have been so blurry, you could barely focus on his face. And even worse, the pain must have been unbearable, for it made you unsteady and light-headed, your body rocking back and forth, barely holding on to your conscience. You were too calm for what he was seeing, and Kaeya pushed away from the kitchen counter, striding over in two big steps just in time to catch you from falling over.

His heart plummeted at the sight of your wrist, the joint bent unnaturally, a big lump forming as it swelled too fast for just a bruise. The sound of something banging into another hadn't been you merely rearranging the decor again roughly. It must have been your arm hitting an edge your bones couldn't withstand, and guilt crept up Kaeya's spine as he realized it was because of that solid wood he thought was a good idea to purchase. All he ever did was for your benefit.

A promise to protect you, love, and care for you in a way that Kaeya saw fit.

"Fuck, Baby... Hey, talk to me!" Kaeya winced as he pushed your head over to face him, trying to read the unfamiliar look in your eyes, glazed over in what must have been shock. "It hurts," you whispered so softly, losing your grip on reality. Then suddenly, in one blink, everything changed, the shock releasing in a choked but shattering scream as you jerked forward, huddling over your arm as the pain overcame you.

Kaeya fumbled to hold you back, pull the broken wrist out of your clutches to keep it from being agitated, but you were struggling against him, completely lost in the anguish of your wound. "It hurts!" you reiterated, sobbing. This time the words burst out louder, breaking Kaeya's heart as he heard you scream and hyperventilate, the air seemingly unwilling to reach your lungs.

"I know! I know..." Kaeya panicked, grabbing you by your shoulders to pull you back against him. You screamed as he snatched your wrist, moving you too quickly for the agitated fracture that caused you even more pain. The sound pierced his ears, but it hurt his heart more than his brain, his panic so unfamiliar as he lost grip on what to do. Even after all you two had been through—the bites, the bruises, the rough handling—you never actually suffered an injury before, and Kaeya was lost on how to treat it. "I know, Baby! Hang in there, I can help you, I can--"

The panic in his voice had no chance of ringing out as you threw yourself forward, crying and sobbing loudly, trying to alleviate your pain somehow by following wherever the broken wrist went, shielding and elevating it at the same time. There was no pattern in your actions other than unpredictably trying to stop hurting, and it was impossible for Kaeya to follow you without it hurting more. He felt his chest constrict, listening to your pain, feeling you fight him for the relief he wanted to give you but apparently couldn't. He promised to take care of you no matter how much you hated him or how much you struggled against his love. But what was he supposed to do? He wanted to help, but how? How could he help you?

Had his hands ever done anything else but hurt you?

Kaeya couldn't remember the last time he touched you without you jerking away. Without you shivering or crying or even just leaning into his touch like a real couple would. Neither could he comfort nor ease your mind with it now either. It was a strange moment of clarity in the panicked mess of your screams. There were very few things he was helpless about, but he never knew that it wasn't just your charm he was powerless against but also your pain that he couldn't alleviate. Watching the tears drip from your chin, cries rip your throat apart, and your body helplessly flailing in pain made him feel so fucking helpless. Like there was nothing in the world, he could do for you.

Even when he brought you pain before, it hadn't been one he couldn't rectify in the end. But now, an accident that was barely his fault was something he had no way of handling. Especially not with you refusing to give up your wrist to him. What should he do? Why was there nothing that could have prepared him for this? How did one even heal a fracture when the patient was the person he loved the most in this godforsaken world? The only good thing in his life! The one person he needed more than anything else!

He knew he couldn't. One broken bone and watching your pain, and Kaeya had finally met his match. His undoing.

Activating his vision, he could feel his body cool off against yours. Your skin was like searing flames licking at his, but he could only hope you'd come to your senses enough to realize he did it for you. It was the only way to share your pain in the slightest bit, though it wasn't even close to what you must have been feeling. For once, he hated touching you, but when he finally had you stabilized, he gripped your wrist, stealing it from your care. You howled in pain at his hands wrapped around the broken bone, and Kaeya amplified the cold in his hand as the swelling was hotter than what the human body should be, barely able to be subdued.

"Stop!" you screamed, pounding and twisting your healthy knuckles into his chest. Seeing you act normal now was almost adorable, but he couldn't take time away from your healing just to please his own twisted desires. Kaeya struggled to wrap his arm holding your hand around you, and weave the other one under your legs. "You're hurting me! Kaeya! Stop! Please!"

Your words were barely audible in the back of his mind, even though your pleas and cries tugged at his heartstrings. His only thought was helping you somehow—no matter what. You were hurting, and he couldn't stand it. Kaeya needed to fix this somehow. Quickly. He promised to fix your problems, and he would do what needed to be done. His muscles were reliable, even though his head was all over the place, lifting you from the ground and carrying you over to the door. "Fuck," he cursed, angry at himself for triple locking the shabby entrance, unlocking not fast enough for his liking.

Everything—setting you down on your feet and pressing you against him while you whimpered and cried as he fumbled with the locks before yanking the door open, to picking you up again and running down the stairs and out of the front door, flying down the street to the nearest doctor—happened in such a blur, his thoughts unable to keep up with his body acting on its own. It was instinct. The most beloved person in his life was hurt, and he needed to help you.

He barely realized what he had done before he gave you out of his hands, a doctor rushing to you as if you were bleeding out instead of having fractured your hand. You had even calmed down a little, even though the tears were still flowing. It was all the same to Kaeya, who couldn't catch his breath, panic paralyzing his whole body, making him light-headed. All he could do was step back slowly until his back hit a wall he could lean on, his eye only on you, even when the doctor took care of the fracture.

A mad giggle slowly poured out of him as he watched you yip and cry while the doc prodded, asking how this happened, where, when, and why. You looked up at Kaeya, standing farther away than ever, watching the drama unfold as your perfect, lovely lips parted, revealing everything that happened to you, stumbling over your words while he sank to the ground, laughing, as the perfect life he had planned for you two came crashing down.

There you were, ruining months of planning, hiding, sweeping things under the rock, and all he felt was relief.

Because you were safe. Someone who knew what he was doing was taking care of you. You stopped crying frantically, too busy telling your tale of captivity—exposing Kaeya to every ear that could listen. He loved you. He loved you so much. Your pain became his pain, your shock his shock. Your panic was his panic, leading him to finally let you go just so you could heal. And it was a relief to see you getting better, at least a little bit.

"They must have hit their head," Kaeya said, smiling at you from across the room as two young knights came to take him away for questioning. After witnessing your story, someone must have called the Knights of Favonious, but only Kaeya and you knew it wasn't true. That all he ever did was love you. Glancing at your hand wrapped in bandages, he didn't really feel how the lower-ranking knights cuffed him. Kaeya was just happy he could help in the end. Frantically and thoughtlessly, but he did it. Seeing you settle in your bed, eyes puffy but finally dry after crying so many tears of pain, all he felt was adoration for you, for being strong enough to get through this.

When it mattered the most, you had called his name, relied on him, and he helped you.

"I'll come and pick you up later," he promised, making a step forward with the need to kiss your forehead, reassuring you that everything would be okay.

Maybe he needed to reassure himself.

But the knights held him back, pulling him towards the doorway even though his gaze was stuck on you until the last second. You watched as they took him away, hoping he'd receive the punishment he deserved. But he promised you he'd be back.

And Kaeya always kept his promises.

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star--joy · 1 year ago

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Hold My Hand & Watch the Sun Rise

When Vex is woken by a nightmare, Percy has the perfect remedy: watching the Whitestone sunrise together.

Perc'ahlia Week Day One: Dawn/Treasure

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Warnings: None

Words: 1208

Originally posted: 9/24/23

Ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/50305858

The nightmare is a vague thing. Incomprehensible, really. There is no monster, no big bad to be afraid of, nothing of the sort. It’s just dark and empty and Vex is running, running, running, away from nothing and everything at the same time. Thick, syrupy dread pools in her stomach.

When she finally jolts awake, she does not scream, or thrash, or even whimper. No, she’s had far too much practice to allow such obvious distress to show. The only thing to leave her trembling lips is a gasp. Quiet, easily swallowed by the still night air.

Alas, Percy was always a terribly light sleeper. The tiny noise is enough to pull him to consciousness. “Mmh?”

Vex holds still, hoping he’ll decide that nothing is wrong and fall back into a full rest.

No such luck. Her hitched breathing must give her away. Or perhaps he can feel the pounding of her heart from where their bodies press together. Either way, he leans up slightly on his elbow, blinking as he tries to see through the darkness of the room. “Vex, I know you’re awake.”

“No, I’m not,” she huffs, scooting a few inches away so he’s no longer spooning her so closely. “Go back to sleep.”

Percy is silent for a long few moments, but Vex isn’t foolish enough to think he actually listened to her command. Even if she couldn’t feel him watching her, she knows him well enough to know that returning to sleep is now a lost cause for the gunslinger. He’s going to be too focused on making sure she’s okay to get any more rest.

Gods damn him and his loving fucking care.

“Shall I call for Vax?”

“No, I’m fine. Just— please, Percy, I don’t want to talk about it.” The last thing Vex wants is to worry her brother with something as inconsequential as this. She can’t even remember any details of the nightmare, for Pelor’s sake! It’s nothing. She can handle it.

Percy ever-so-gently reaches for her arm, letting his calloused fingers slide down her wrist until their fingers can wrap together. “Dear Heart,” he whispers, eventually, and Vex curses the way that moniker always sounds so lovely on his lips. “Have you ever seen a proper Whitestone sunrise?”

“…what?”

Without letting go of her hand, Percy reaches over to fumble on the nightstand for his glasses. “It’s extraordinarily beautiful, if you have the patience to see it through. If you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to watch it together.”

Vex turns to peer at him, the squint of her eyes caused half by the dim lighting, half by a confused suspicion. “Why?”

His throat bobs, and he takes a few seconds to consider his answer. “Because I think it would calm you.”

Instinct clamps around Vex, demanding she turn sharp and defensive, deny his care on principle. If it were anyone but Percy, she would probably give into that instinct without hesitation.

As it is, she fights her gut response and tries to meet him in the middle. “Alright. But I’m not talking about it. Yet.”

Percy nods. “Whenever you’re ready, I trust you’ll come to me. Until then, I won’t pry,” he assures her, bringing her hand up to his lips, kissing the fingers before he guides her out of the bed.

Vex’s silky sleep dress ripples around her as she follows her husband, who only makes a quick stop to their closet so he can throw one of his fur-lined tailcoats over her goose-bump covered shoulders before leading her out to the balcony attached to their bedroom.

The fresh night air is a balm Vex didn’t know she needed as they step outside. No signs of sunlight appear over the trees, but she reckons it won’t be long before it begins to peek out. In the meantime, she sits on the edge of the bench they’d had installed. Percy sits a few inches away from her, connected only by their intertwined hands, but it doesn’t go unnoticed how he keeps his posture open. If, or rather, when she will inevitably want to, Vex will have no trouble curling into his side. Just now, though, she appreciates the distance.

Time passes. Even in the silence, Percy does not twitch, does not fidget. His eyes are locked onto the treeline. Vex pulls her knees up to her chest so she’s hugging her legs, chin resting on her kneecaps. Focuses on breathing, slowly, in and out.

“Look,” Percy whispers, after what she would estimate to be half-an-hour has slipped by. He points to the forest, where the first beams of purple are beginning to cut across the sky, just barely visible. “It’s starting.”

Vex trails her gaze over the slowly-lightening dawn. “Do you watch this often?” she asks, voice raspy with sleep, but steadier than it had been before. The fresh air and silent company has helped her calm down remarkably well.

“Not for a long time. This used to be my mother’s remedy to our nightmares, when my siblings and I were young.”

While he speaks, Vex tilts herself into his side, and he’s quick to tuck her into his blanket. Her voice is small when she whispers, “I don’t even remember what I dreamed about, really. Isn’t that stupid?”

It’s a relief when he doesn’t immediately sprout off some practiced response, but rather considers it deeply. “It’s illogical, perhaps, but feelings rarely fall into the realm of logic. We’re all bound to have emotions we can’t explain. Whether or not they’re ‘stupid’, as you say, does not have an effect on whether or not we are.”

The answer is so true to Percy that Vex can’t help but snort a tiny laugh. “Eloquent fucker.”

He shares her laughter, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “I’m not called a genius for nothing.”

They lapse into silence once more, and Vex soon finds herself enraptured by the pinks and oranges and yellows that scatter across the dim sky, a mirage she’d been entirely unprepared for. It casts warm light on the city spread out before the forest, as the early-risers begin to leave their homes and do the first errands of the day. Everything is painted in gold. She’d assumed that Percy was exaggerating about the beauty of it all, but looking at it now, there’s no denying how correct he was. “Holy shit,” she whispers.

He pulls her in tighter, running his hand up and down her upper arm. “I told you.”

“Don’t be smug,” she laughs.

“I would never,” he lies, resting his head on top of hers.

The colors continue to mingle and blend as the sun lifts higher and higher. Whitestone’s streets grow busier, shops opening and parents taking children to school. Mingled chatter rises through the air, reaching their ears.

It’s utterly soothing, and Vex cannot help the way her eyes flutter shut for several seconds too long every time she blinks. Percy notices, because of course he does, but does not comment. All he does is tuck his coat more securely around her shoulders and continue to stroke her softly.

When the dawn finishes, she’s long asleep once more. This time, she dreams of nothing but the feeling of being loved.

#percahliaweek #critical role #vex'ahlia #percy de rolo #perc'ahlia #vex #percival de rolo #percahlia #vexahlia #Bad News Bears #TLOVM #The Legend of Vox Machina #Legend of Vox Machina #LOVM #Critical Role C1 #Vox Machina

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angst-is-love-angst-is-life · 7 months ago

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Ok. Now I gotta get the director’s cut on your fic “12 Hours”

Was it a result of another sudden hyper focus? Or were you planning it and letting it marinate in your brain awhile?

12 hours

Ah yes, thank you for asking!

It’s funny you ask that specifically because it’s kind of— both? I initially only wrote the last 2 hours and the style was very different than what ended up in the final draft. Either way, at some point after writing the first 2; my brain was like “Hey! How about we write ALL TWELVE HOURS LIKE THE TITLE SAYS! WON’T THAT BE FUN!?” And I cried because yes, it would be fun but it would also take wayyyy more time to finish. Alas, at some point I wrote the first six hours before getting stuck on the break. So at that point, it had been marinating for a while. And then Flash day rolls around and I really wanted to post something for it— wrote the entire break and then some, also editing parts of the last two hours. I wrote it from 12-4 am and did not sleep that night. But it was worth it because I posted something for Flash day. So now that that’s been answered— onto the commentary!

I wrote this entire fic in my notes app, there’s an outline in my docs somewhere but it really wasn’t followed at all.

The hour by hour format was my genius way to simultaneously get into Barry’s current headspace AND gave me a set amount of writing needed for each one which was extremely helpful.

His kidnapper had attached each of his wrists to the front bar of a cosmic treadmill and given him one command in a monstrous voice: “Run.”

Some background: in this universe, instead of training and motivating Barry to get faster, Zoom decides the most efficient way is to make him run all day every day. This concept is somewhat adapted from my age old idea of season 1 Thawne putting Barry in a hamster wheel and just forcing him to get faster whether he wants to or not. Obviously the hamster wheel, while funny, isn’t really the right vibe but the premise is similar.

And it’s never mentioned in the fic; but he is getting faster. Zoom’s plan is working and Barry may as well be a dead man running because once Zoom gets what he needs from him; there’ll be no need to keep him alive this time around.

Originally, Jesse and Jay weren’t going to be there because there was no reason for it. Both narratively and in-universe but both of those changed in a way. Narratively, it’s fun to play with Barry’s guilt and self sacrificing tendencies. In-universe, it’s just one more way to keep him trapped. He’s not going to run away if he knows innocent people would be hurt because of it.

But even when this weak and close to powerless, he could still protect them. No matter how exhausted he was, something inside Barry gave him the courage and energy —anytime Zoom made so much as a move toward the other two— to direct their captor’s attention to him. It always left him worse off, bruises and sometimes cuts littering his body. It didn’t matter, he could heal even if it still hurt. Always better me than them.

I’ll admit. This was, in part, my whump gremlin ass hijacking a little bit. BUT it’s those self sacrificing tendencies I mentioned. It’s honestly a huge part of his character so I’m very glad I put it in. Also, that innate need to protect people which is arguably the most prominent trait of his character. Ah poor Barry.

A wave of weakness came over him as the dampeners took effect. It slowed him down just enough to prevent phasing.

Although hostages are an excellent way for Zoom to keep Barry trapped; he’s not stupid enough to just leave him to his running. I knew I needed something that could both prevent his escape and keep him at the treadmill— while allowing him his speed. Lightbulb moment as I remembered the cuffs Thawne used in 1x17 that appeared to do exactly that.

02:59:00

Help me.

02:55:59

Please. Someone come find me, please—

02:54:59

I have to keep going. I can’t. I don’t have a choice.

This was a fun little tidbit I decided to add in to emphasize that Barry is really Not Ok right now. These kind of thoughts happen extremely often and are similar in wording each time. He’s tired, he’s done, he’s been waiting on a rescue for who-knows how long and has pretty much lost hope on that miracle. He’s not quite accepted his fate but that makes the lack of choice so much worse.

Get up or he’ll hurt them. Legs shaking so violently, he got to both feet, began to run, and caught up with the treadmill.

Another very intentional choice. Not sure if it’s canon that did it or maybe it was another fanfiction not sure (or hell— maybe I’m projecting. Who knows)— but I love making Barry’s main motivation protecting others. Perhaps it’s the general lack of self preservation he seems to have. Sparing himself of more pain wasn’t enough, his companions would pay for it if Zoom caught him not running (it happened before and that was the one time he couldn’t protect them. Well, Jesse in this case.) and that’s what he needed to keep going.

There was one last rule. If he stopped on the first run, he wasn’t allowed to feed himself. If he stopped on the second run, as he just had— Zoom would leave him cuffed overnight, and Barry had to sleep like this.

Just some more comfortability motivation for him to keep running because Zoom’s a dick and so am I

With that reminder, he released a dry sob between pants, with energy he most certainly didn’t possess. Sobbed because he’d been here for so long, and he was so tired, and he just wanted to go home.

Crying would have been a waste of energy before now, Barry doesn’t let himself do it until the 12 hours is up.

The penny landed on heads for unhappy ending sorry (jk, it was just the vibe)

Last thing I’ll leave you with is I was this 🤏 close to adding a rescue. And I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about writing another chapter with just that…

Fanfic Writers: Director’s Cut

#fic writer director's commentary #asks #ask game answers #anon asks #12 hours fic #sorry if this is incoherent at parts. it’s late but I wanted to finish tonight

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circledemptiness · 2 months ago

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Requiem

Chapter 4: Tuba Mirum

Fandom: Batman (Arkham Knight) Pairing: Edward Nigma (The Riddler) x Reader ✦ Chapter index ✦ Read on AO3 – Older work (and it shows)

“What are they for, Mr Nigma?” you ask gently, carefully laying the electronic parts you’ve gathered for the Riddler through the day on the working table, under his appreciative gaze. His eyes shine like two diamonds, a playful smile on his face.

“I highly doubt you would understand if I explained it to you” he answers dismissively, but there is no disdain in his stare, something more challenging perhaps. Your mouth twists in a crooked smile, curiosity nibbling at the back of your brain.

“Well… could you try? Please?” There is something in your voice, a mix of innocence and seduction, a cute pout on your lips, trying to… charm him? You’re not exactly sure what you’re attempting, and every fiber of your body screams at you to not push your luck, but when he cocks a brow at you, licking his lips while drilling his eyes deep inside of yours, silently considering your request, you can’t help but feel a tingling warmth nesting in your belly. The Riddler clicks his tongue, collects one of the precious components and motions you to follow him.

“Alright, dear. I can certainly try. Alas, whether or not you have the capacity to comprehend what I’m about to show you is out of my control” he chuckles, and you wrinkle your nose at the unnecessary condescending comment, but willingly follow him anyway. He seems like he’s in a good mood today, you noticed, it would be unwise to ruin the moment by protesting.

He guides you towards one of the inactivated Riddlerbots, impressive and scary, almost as tall as the Riddler but not quite; much taller than you either way. You look at its mouthless face, dark eyes staring at the void. You detail its metallic joints, carefully crafted, the few scratches decorating its sturdy chest plate, and the transparent orb shaped belly. You notice wires and bulbs in its guts, wondering if it’s supposed to glow.

Your breath quickens, a subtle rush of adrenaline pumping in your veins as you realize how excited you are. The Riddler notices it as well, allowing you to observe his Creation, a proud and smug look on his face. When you look at him, he offers you a wide grin that makes your heart skip a beat. Why does it keep happening to you? You swallow thickly, nod at him.

“It’s beautiful. Magnificent,” you murmur, and his smile widens, chest swelling with pride. The Riddler likes to be praised, you quickly understood it, and the way his face shines when you flatter his ego is splendid. You wish you could always see him smile. Wish he could always smile for you .

While grabbing your wrist, Edward drags a stool and puts it behind the inanimated robot. When he sits down, his hands shift on your waist, pulling you on his lap, and an inaudible sigh dies on your lips. You feel your gaze getting blurry, losing yourself in your thoughts, a puddle of heat surrounding you. A soft memory from yesterday’s encounter makes you shiver, thinking of his hands caressing you, fingers toying with your nipples, curling inside your–

“ You’re dreaming again ” he whispers in your ear, sending shivers down your spine, making your stomach twist. You clear your throat, adjusting yourself, pressing your legs together and laying the flat of your hands on your thighs, carefully looking in front of you. You feel Edward’s chest jerking from a silent chuckle.

He then extends his arm, touches the back of the robot, and opens a small door uncovering a field of wires, electronic pieces of all sorts, and minuscule lights. You lean forward, gasping softly at the beautiful piece of art displayed. Everything is neatly organized, conscientiously crafted, and you even smile at hints of green marking the insides of the Riddlerbot. Edward does like marking what’s his , you think, a dreamy look on your face, as you brush your fingertips over the hickeys he gave you the night before. He points at a small piece hidden in the robot’s entrails, and you focus on it.

Edward’s fingers detail each part of the internal system of his Creation, his other arm wrapped around your midsection, holding you in place while he leans forward, his face next to yours, his breath caressing your cheek. Guiding you through the technicalities, you hums and nods, asking him questions that make him cock a brow or chuckle, as if you said something stupid. And to him, that might have been the case. He seems thrilled with your interest, his thumb drawing circles on your sides. Tender. Gentle. You space out for a moment, feeling the warmth of his chest pressing against your back. His heart is pounding in his chest. He’s excited .

“…All it needs to make it completely perfect is this piece, right here” Edward holds the component that you brought him in front of you. He unwraps his arm from your waist, fumbling in his cargo pants for a small tool. He jerks his hips forward, dragging the stool closer, bringing both of his arms around you, his hands precisely working inside the robot. He breathes alarmingly slowly, intensely focused on his task, and you hold your own breath, trying not to distract him.

He’s so close to you that you can smell his scent. Sweat from a day of hard work. Grease. Coffee. It’s becoming a familiar essence now, one that makes you part your lips slightly and pants, heart racing in your chest, heat forming in your stomach. It’s all around you. Embracing you entirely. Oh, how you wish you could simply wrap yourself in his aura all day, melting under his touch.

A clicking noise, and suddenly the Riddlerbot’s belly glows in a proud shade of green. You gasp, heart frantically beating in your chest at the sheer beauty of the living wires. As soon as Edward removes his arm to let you take a better look of what he just accomplished, you jump on your feet and face the robot. Its eyes, previously dark and sad, are now bright green, glowing in their sockets. You squeal, a wide smile on your face, your body floored with excitement and delight, when the robot jerks slightly, moves for the first time. Edward crosses his arms against his chest, and looks at you, amused, smug, and there’s also something else in here, you’re not quite sure what. He then looks at his Creation, chest swelling with pride, as he shuts the door on its back.

“Mr Nigma, it’s– it’s prodigious ! Gorgeous!” you yell excitingly, under the curious gaze of the Riddlerbot, while Edward stands up and gets in front of the robot, inspecting it cautiously, humming at your praise, a cocky smile on his face. He nods and sighs, satisfied, the traits of his face relaxing and softening in front of the green hue of the robot’s eyes.

Your heart pounds in your chest. Something’s breaking in your core, or perhaps something is sculpting inside of you. It feels like a spider is spinning a web made of your blood vessels; it stings, feels warm, filling your heart. It seems like it’s the very first time that you truly see Edward Nigma. And oh , he’s beautiful, proud and content of his work, his superiority beaming in the room. A deep feeling of admiration vibrates in your chest, and you wish you could always be next to him during his successes. Wishful thinking. When he glances at you, you’re softly panting, cheeks flushing, and your eyes are shining with emotion. Confused and complicated emotions. He sighs, detailing the traits of your face; you wonder what he sees.

“Did it quench your curiosity?” he asks in a chanting voice, and you can’t help but smile at him.

“Will you show me more miracles?” your voice trembles when you whisper, and he chuckles at your implied praise. He remains silent and immobile for a few agonizing seconds, but it doesn’t feel uncomfortable, the tension between you isn’t necessarily bad. His eyes shine brighter, a fire in the ocean of green, and he holds your wrist, tugging at your arm.

“Actually, yes, I will ” he answers, just as softly, guiding you to a table nearby, covered in tools, papers, plans, maps and coffee mugs. With his forearm, he pushes everything on the side, under your curious gaze. Edward holds you by the waist and lifts you up in a gasp, as if you were nothing but a feather in his grip. You always thought he looked strong, that he had to be strong, spending his days working doing what he does, but you are still admirative, still feeling your heart beating frantically in your heart, when he lifts you, making you sit on the table. You feel so small and frail in his arms, looking at him through half lidded eyes, the palm of your hands gripping the cold table. Anticipating.

Edward drags a stool behind him, sitting between your legs that he spreads gently, his hands grabbing your thighs so that he can lean closer to you. You choke on a soft gasp, looking at him carefully removing your shoes, unbuttoning your pants; you then lift your hips to allow him to pull at your pants, which he removes forcefully and discards on the floor. You pant heavily when his hands caress your naked legs, a low moan escaping your mouth when you feel his warm lips on your inner thighs. He’s running his hands over your calves, squeezing the soft flesh of your thighs, kissing them, nibbling on them, biting them, marking you like he marked your neck yesterday, marking you like he marks everything that’s his .

His head crawls higher, now kissing your already wet panties, his touch coaxing a loud moan from you, while he’s keeping your thighs open for him. Edward closes his eyes when he gives your cunt an open mouth kiss through your underwear, and the warmth of his breath makes your cunt clench and flutter, as you sob and tremble. Your hand finds his hair, caressing his dark disheveled mane. The loving touch makes him open his hungry eyes and look at you, cocking a brow. Oh , his eyes…

Edward slips his fingers through the elastic of your panties and tugs at them, pulling them down, uncovering your glistening and throbbing folds. A faint smile appears on his face as he hums, appreciatively, and you can’t help but blush, feeling completely exposed right in front of him.

When you feel the flat of his tongue slowly sliding through your entire slit, holding you by the thighs, you wail and curl your toes. So warm . He licks your clit before taking it in his mouth, suckling at it lovingly, and you whimper, twitching under his touch. You grab his hair and hear a pleased groan between your legs, one that shoots daggers behind your navel and makes your cunt clench.

Pressing his entire mouth against your folds, Edward licks your slit, drinks your essence, humming ardently, and the vibrations of his voice is another caress, taunting and delicious. His tongue circles your aching hole, making you scream and sob, your hips rocking against his face, an untold plea. Grabbing your thighs harder, keeping you in place, Edward sucks on your small lips, licks the mess you make, then gets back to your throbbing button, lapping it, suckling on it. The tension it creates is nerve-wrecking, it’s too much and not enough at the same time.

His knuckles caress your slit and you whimper, wiggling your hips as much as his grip allows you to. He kisses your inner thighs, nibbling on the soft flesh.

“Do you want more?” he asks in a low voice, distorted by lust and desire, his fingers circling your hole, directly looking at you and you frantically nod, biting your lips. There’s a burning light in his eyes as he cocks a brow, a devilish grin on his face, when he chuckles deeply.

“ What’s that? ” he taunts you, thumb circling your clit furiously while his knuckles press against your hole, never penetrating you, merely teasing you.

“ Please– ” you sob, rocking your hips against his hand, and he freezes, slightly removes his hand, just holding it out of reach from your cunt, patiently waiting, a wide grin on his face. You whimper at the loss of friction and pant heavily, but he expects an answer, wants to see you submit to him.

“Please, Mr Nigma– I want more ” you stutter submissively, knowing that this is what he likes, this is how he likes you, docile and good for him. He bites his lip and chokes on a soft moan, obviously aroused by the pathetic state you are in, just for him .

“ You pretty little thing ” he whispers before taking your clit back between his lips, pressing two fingers inside of you, painfully stretching your burning cunt at last, coaxing another long and loud scream from you, legs shaking around him.

His fingers thrust inside of you at a desperately slow pace, opening your walls deliciously, your essence coating his digits, dripping out of your hole. Vulgar noises made of moans, grunts and wet sounds fill the room as Edward licks and drinks you, curling his fingers in a way that he now knows make your thighs tremble and tense. You wail when he keeps assaulting this special spot, sensitive and willing, while he nibbles on the flush skin of your inner thigh.

“I think you can handle more, don’t you?” His voice is strained, panting, looking at you with half lidded eyes, a cloudy gaze showing just how much he desires you, and before you have the time to react you feel another digit pushing inside of you, stretching you wide open, and you scream, loud, powerful, under his triumphant gaze, while he moans lowly, feverishly aroused by how willingly you take him, how eager you are for him.

“ Damn it– ” he curses under his breath, suddenly standing up, his fingers fucking your tender hole in lewd noises. With his free hand, he shakingly, frantically fights with the buckle of his belts, unzipping his pants and, in a low hiss, frees his cock, painfully hard, furiously red, throbbing and leaking. You open wide admirative eyes, mouth salivating at the view of his beautiful member for the first time. Still thrusting his fingers in and out of your sensitive walls, splitting you open, he wraps his hand around his entire length, pumping himself at a rapid, desperate pace.

Tentatively, you extend your arm, and put your hands around his. Slowly, he removes his hand, allowing yours to wrap delicately around his cock. He’s so hard, so warm, and you can feel his pulse in your palm, throbbing with need and lust. Edward presses ferocious kisses against your throat, bites your neck, makes new marks around the ones already here, sucking your delicate flesh. His fingers curl inside of you, deeply fucking you, his thumb drawing circles around your bundle of nerves. He moans and grunts lowly, loudly, when you pump him unceremoniously, frantically, his cock leaking abundantly, precum coating your hand.

You press your thumb against his slit, granting you a low hiss and a brutal thrust of his fingers inside your sorry cunt, and you wrap your free hand around his hair, caressing his head, pulling it closer to your neck, closer to you, rocking your hips to meet his hand, deepening his touch in your insides in a loud moan.

His scent is everywhere, strong and overpowering; it’s musky, animalistic, makes you feverish and delirious. The noises he makes are loud and lustful, and you are the one who put him in this state, you are the one driving him crazy and feral, your hand fucking his beautiful slick cock while his fingers are plunged deep inside your drenched cunt.

A burning sensation builds behind your navel, growing strong and powerful, as your orgasm gets dangerously close, and you wail and sob, tightening your grip on Edward’s length.

“ Edward, I’m– close… ” you stutter, not even realizing that you called him by his first name, but he doesn’t seem to mind, his hips bucking and grinding against your hand, fucking himself in your grip.

“I know… Me too…” he pants heavily, gasping and moaning against your throat.

When your orgasm hits, it is devastating and forceful, juices dripping out of your clenching cunt, a thunder-like feeling irradiating through your entire body, making you jerk and tremble, moaning and crying out Edward’s name. It might have been what made his hips rock more irregularly and erratically, lifting your shirt to not ruin it, thrusting one last time in your grip before spilling his seeds on your hand, your thighs, and your stomach. His cum is hot and sticky, feels heavenly on your skin.

Edward pants against your shoulder, pressing his sweaty forehead against the crook of your neck. He remains still for a short minute, coming back from his ride to euphoria, both of your labored breaths filling the otherwise quiet room. Once he calms down, Edward removes himself from you, tucks his cock back in his pants and fetches a relatively intact cloth. Cleans your hand, thigh, stomach, silently. Painfully silently. You dread his cold and surgical moves. Feels distant, somehow. He helps you with your pants, and even hands you your shoes, without a word.

He’s leaning against the table, still spent and tired, while you put your shoes back on, and you feel a hole in your chest. He looks seemingly absentmindedly at the wall, and when you try to follow his gaze, you see it again, the drawing on the wall, the bat . You wonder if he’s thinking about Him right now. He probably is. You don’t know why, but it hurts. Perhaps because merely a few minutes ago you gave him an orgasm, and now it seems like you’re not even in the room. Your mouth twitches in anguish, but you’re unsure what you expected anyway.

You always knew that the Riddler’s sanity was questionable, but you didn’t know how insidious it was.

“Do you need me to run an errand for you tomorrow, Mr Nigma?” Your voice is calm, soft, as you try to compose yourself. He doesn’t answer for a few seconds; then, he blinks, as if suddenly waking up from a dream, and turns his head in your direction. There is a bizarre look in his eyes. Looks like shame. Is he ashamed?

“No– No” he clears his throat. “I don’t need you.”

An odd choice of words, but one that conveys more meaning that he’d care to admit. You knit your brow, pretend it doesn’t hurt. You grab your backpack and discreetly exit the building after wishing him a goodnight. He doesn’t answer.

The Riddler is a complicated man, you figured. Fighting his own demons. Devoting his entire life to his design, his revenge. You might be part of his greater plan, to some mediocre extent, but you’re not sure that there is room for you in his life .

It shouldn’t hurt. But it does. And you hate it.

#edward nigma #edward nygma #edward nashton #the riddler #arkham knight #edward nigma x reader #edward nygma x reader #edward nashton x reader #the riddler x reader

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manic-nova · 3 years ago

Text

Thoma: “Where’s my hug?”

A Thoma Smut Drabble. 18+ NSFW Minors Do Not Interact! Not proofread.

Word count: 764 words

TW's: groping, masturbation, mentions of corruption kink, pervert Thoma.

Thoma’s definitely the “where’s my hug?” guy, but it’s okay, because everyone in Inazuma loves him. He’s never been shy about the fact that his love language is physical, and that goes beyond romantic and sexual means. He just feels closer to people when he can get physically closer to them, and so he’s always been one to pass out hugs, and there’s no ulterior motives to it. But you… you changed that. He introduced himself to you with literal open arms and you hesitantly allowed him to engulf you in his frame for a brief moment. He quickly noticed the way the scent of Sakura petals wafted off you, how your cheeks had grown rosy when you two separated, and how warm and supple your skin was when his hand lingered on your wrist for second in his daze. He was instantly addicted, and he craved more of your touch, whatever he could get. For a while he took it slow, cherishing the brief and fleeting moments of wrapping his arms around you for just a couple seconds and then peeling away from you like he wasn’t desperate for you to stay there. He’d smile with crinkled eyes, so seemingly innocent and sweet. He’d go home though and sprawl out on a chair or his bed and fidget with his pants zipper because he’d waited for a moment to himself all day because of you, a moment where he could stroke his cock to the tarrying image of those big sparkling eyes looked back up at him as he pulled away. You were so adorable and naive. He wanted so badly to ravage you, pump you full of pleasure, and make you see stars, but alas, he was such a gentlemen. All Thoma could do was gradually move his body closer and stay enveloped around you longer, inch by inch, second by second, every day, until he was pressed up against you with only clothes separating your bodies and you didn’t even question it. When you remained oblivious he started to get really brave. He’d wrap around you from behind and bury his chin in the crook of your neck, and you’d reply with a bubbly giggle that always made him melt. It was such a wholesome moment, until Thoma “accidentally” pushed into you too hard, his slight bulge brushing up against your clothed sex, then he’d “accidentally” move his hands up your abdomen and lift your shirt ever so slightly so his burning hands glided across the bare skin. You’d whimper and grow red in the face, moaning out his name in embarrassment. “What?” He’d ask without a trace of guilt. “Did I squeeze you too hard?” And he’d tilt his head toward you and let out a chuckle before removing himself from your grasp, and you’d think of it as nothing more than an accident, but in truth it took everything within Thoma to control the sensation of blood rushing to his cock in arousal. He buried that thought deep in his mind of the rest of the day, letting it sit and simmer and grow into a greater desire. When he finally got home, he rushed into his bedroom and locked the door and thanked the archons that he didn’t lose his mind to the sound of you moaning his name so prettily. He wanted so bad to hear you moan his name again. He wanted to hear you say it over and over again as he pounded against that cute little ass of yours that felt like it was practically built for his cock. He wanted to run his hands up and down your smooth bare skin and hear you whine and beg him for more. He stroked his cock to that thought over and over again. He jerked himself against his pillow and imagined it was you whimpering under him, and he came so many times that night, strings of pearly-colored liquid shooting out of him and all over his sheets, wishing it was you his was painting with his cum. He was such a dirty pervert, groping you in the middle of the Inazuma streets because you were too oblivious to see his truly vulgar intentions, and you would never know better either, because Thoma was such a gentlemen and everybody loved him. Everyone would love him regardless of how he fantasized about ruining you while grinding up against your ass, his hot breath becoming weighted and heavy against your neck as he suppressed a moan.

He was such a dirty pervert, and he didn’t deserve you.

#genshin impact smut #genshin x reader #thoma smut #thoma genshin #thoma thirst #geshin impact #genshin thirsts #thoma genshin impact

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cyborg-franky · 3 years ago

Note

Can we get some sabo smut since it's his birthday today? Like reader kinda just wraps themself in a gif on sabos bed and gets kinda tangled and needs help 💀

I didn't plan on doing anything for Sabo's birthday buuuuut I will try a little something.

Sabo x GN Reader [no pronouns, no mention of gendered 'stuff']

N/SFW

Word Count: 1,174

Happy Birthday you fucking goblin.

Sabo didn’t ever stop working, not even on his birthday, the revolution wasn’t going to wait around while he had a slice of cake and tea after all. After a long and mentally draining meeting, he was allowed to retire for the night. He couldn’t wait to wash himself off and head to bed, a well-needed sleep with you in his arms.

The last thing he expected when he returned to the room you shared was you, sat on the bed, wrists tied together with a blue ribbon, a half-wrapped box on the bed. He quirked a brow as he set down his hat on the table, shrugging off his coat and hanging it up.

You chuckled and waved your tangled hands at him, looking embarrassed about the predicament you’d gotten yourself into. You tugged at the ribbon, and it just seemed to bind tighter. Sabo walked slowly forwards the bed, his eyes focused on where your wrists met.

“Did you do this on purpose? Or did you honestly get tangled like that?” He said with a cheerful chuckle, kicking off his shoes and climbing onto the bed with you.

“I wish I could say it was on purpose but alas, I am just that clumsy.” You said with a sigh, feeling his legs on either side of you as he sat down behind, pulling your back against his chest.

“I thought you were implying you were my gift.” His voice was husky in your ear as gloved hands reached forward, grabbing the loose ends up the blue ribbon that dangled from your bound wrists, he pulled them at the same time, your hands clasped together as he’d forced your wrists tighter as one.

“S-Sabo..” you flushed, feeling teeth start to nibble your ear lobe, the heat around you suddenly rising and you doubted it was devil fruit related when you felt his erection poking you in the back.

“Yes, love?” the wicked chuckle, the warm breath behind your ear.

You felt him tie the ribbon, making a large fancy bow, you really did look like a gift now. His hands travelled up your arms, feeling the leather of his gloves sensually caressing your bare skin, your loose-fitting nightshirt did little to stop Sabo’s touches.

Goosebumps and a pleasant shiver rolled across you, his hands slowly, teasingly left your arms, down your sides and to your front. He was toying with you; he was making you weak for him. Building up the anticipation before he took his hands off altogether.

You let out a disappointed whimper, the touches, the situation, warm breath, and soft lips travelling across your exposed neck was doing a number on your sex. Wanting him to do more. You could tell he was taking off his gloves, setting them aside with extra care.

He trusted and loved you enough that he didn’t feel ashamed of his body, of the marks, the scars, he felt comfortable with you. His lips latched onto your neck, sucking at the skin, applying pressure with his teeth. You gasped, something between a whimper and a moan left your parted lips.

“Like that? Like being marked? You’re my gift, right? I can do whatever I want right love?” He asked each sinful syllable grazed against your abused skin, a mark would be ripe before long, marking you as his.

“Y-yes.” You whined, embarrassed at how obvious your need for him was, how you wanted more, the way you leaned so he could get access to more of your neck, his lips travelling up once more.

You were so enthralled by where his lips were that you neglected to notice where his now gloveless hands were until you felt him pinch your nipples. You moaned and arched back against him, how he’d slid his hands up your shirt gracefully, teasing your pert buds.

Rolling them between his fingertips, basking in your moans, drinking in the building heat of the moment. He applied more pressure, a little pain added to the pleasure. Your eyes fluttered shut as you moaned his name, feeling him grind his hard cock against you.

“Yeah, do you like that?” He purred against your neck as he pulled your nipples just enough for you to grasp, shuddering, body shaking as he didn’t relent. “Too much?” His tone was teasing, a slight edge to it as he chuckled.

“N…no.”

He smirked as one hand left your sensitive nipple, trailing down your body to the waistband of your shorts, slipping past the elastic and into your underwear. He could feel just how excited you were for him, how ready and hot your sex felt.

“Such a slut for me, huh?” his voice was so cheerful like he was just bidding you a good morning.

One hand carried on rolling your nipple, applying different pressure at a simple whim, the hand in your underwear stroked your sex, working more moans out of you, stronger than before. The combined sensations of his hand on your chest and stimulating your sex was so good. Your moans grew, you struggled with the ribbon that bound your wrists together, rocking against him.

“Saaabo…” You whined, a slight hitch in your voice when he sped up his ministrations on your throbbing sex.

“I want you to cum for me, that would be such a great gift.” Sabo hummed, feeling your heat react to his touches, how you couldn’t keep your hips still, bucking into his touches, chasing your high as he pulled you higher and higher towards your blissful peek.

“I’m. I’m so.. so close.” You whimpered, struggling against him more, arching your lower body as he sped up.

“Make a mess for me, that’s an order.” His voice was that of an angel, but his actions were far from merciful as he pushed you harder than before.

Maybe he was an angel because it didn’t take long for you to see the white blinding light of bliss as your lips parted, eyes closed, and his name fell from your lips like it was a prayer for forgiveness. You rolled your hips against his touches, closer and closer into the light as you cried out one last time.

Body trembling as he brought you to completion, your climax coated his hand, a chuckle came from Sabo as he removed his hand, the one that was covered in your climax was brought to your face, two fingers pressed into your mouth, forcing your tongue flat as he commanded you to suck and you did, you did with such greed.

Tongue twirling around his digits as you took in your taste, the smell of yourself and the leather of his gloves mingled into something so entirely intoxicating that you couldn’t help but groan around them.

“Now then,” Sabo pulled away from you, you blinked when he pushed you forward, your bound wrists stretched ahead of you as he brought your backside up, positioning you into such a wonderful presentation for himself. “Now I get to enjoy my gift.”

“O…oh fuck..”

“That’s my intent darling.”

#n/sfw #gender neutral reader #no pronouns #one piece x you #one piece reader insert #one piece x reader #sabo x reader #sabo x reader insert #sabo one piece x reader #sabo x you #sabo x yn #sabo x y/n

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iyumeu · 3 years ago

Text

i can be your angle or yuor demon

summary: [takes place right after the angelic demons event] in front of you stands an angel and a demon. which would you choose?

characters featured: lucifer, mammon, leviathan (aka older brother trio)

⭒☆━━━━━━━━✿ᏊㅇꈊㅇᏊ✿━━━━━━━━☆⭒

It had been a few days since the party that had taken place in the celestial realm. Your demonic housemates were now back to their normal, devilish selves but you notice that they seemed a little... odd. Subdued, even.

Today was no different; the brothers had been quiet during dinner, either picking at their food or simply straight up not attending dinner. You had gone to bed feeling off-kilter and worried. That was it, you decided, it was time to stage an intervention. You were going to confront your demonic housemates tomorrow and they weren't going to be able to do anything about it!

With determination in your heart, you closed your eyes... and then immediately found yourself in a strange white room with...

Lucifer

After the party

> He had immediately thrown himself back into a mountain of paperwork.

> You knew that Lucifer was the embodiment of overworking but even this was too much. He hadn't been present for dinner since all of you had returned to the Devildom and if it weren't for the incredibly rare times you caught him out in the hallway, you would have come to the conclusion that he simply decided to start living in his study room

> Alas, even when he was outside he was short-tempered, snapping at anyone who was around him and was generally just a little more forceful than usual.

> There was a moment where you brushed past him in the hallway and he had grabbed your wrist, tugging you towards him. You had jumped and whirled around, startled at the sudden action, and you weren't quite sure what your expression had been like but you knew that it prompted Lucifer to immediately let go of your wrist as if he had been burnt. He then retreated back into his office, slamming the door shut without even saying a word to you.

> He had kept his distance after that and the two of you hadn't spoken to each other since.

In the white space

Two Lucifers stood before you, one clad in his angelic costume while the other wearing his demonic form.

> They seemed to be talking to one another, the Lucifer you were familiar with getting more and more agitated by the second while the Lucifer dressed in angelic garb was crossing his arms, looking at the demonic Lucifer with a placid expression on his face.

> When you step closer to them, they turn to look at you in tandem.

> "MC."

> It's strange how your name can be spoken in such different ways. Lucifer spoke your name in his usual commanding tone while the angel said it with such gentleness and cheer it gave you goosebumps.

> "Luci... fer?"

> "Yes?"

> The both of them answered together once again. It was seriously freaking you out. Were they both really Lucifer? Or was one of them a clone?

> You quickly made your way closer to them.

> Once you were closer you could see that Lucifer looked tenser than usual.

> "Where are we?" You couldn't help but glance at angel Lucifer too when you asked that question. From the corner of your eye, you see Lucifer's hand clench into a fist.

> "It doesn't matter where we are," Lucifer replied brusquely. You hadn't seen him this upset before, not even when he tried to kill you for harboring Luke in the House of Lamentation.

> "Is this how he talks to you all the time?" Instead of answering you, angel Lucifer asked you another question. It was a question that confused you. What did that have to do with anything?

> "Um... not really? He's just a little bit frustrated," you reply, eyeing the angel Lucifer warily. Something about him made you feel... something. It was a negative something. You didn't like him one bit.

> "I see." Angel Lucifer reaches out towards you. Before you can flinch back, Lucifer's hand was already painfully gripping your shoulder, tugging you to his side in an almost violent manner.

> "You are not to touch them," he said. Angel Lucifer's gaze slowly slid from you to him and you were able to see it frost over in real time.

> "Neither are you," he said, "if you're going to be so forceful. Look at them, they're hurt."

> Lucifer turned to look at you. You were frozen in the middle of rubbing at your shoulder and his eyes darkened.

> He stepped away from you.

> "You believe that everyone around you will bend to your whim," the angel said. "And if you don't, you force them to. You carry out your actions uncaring about the way it affects others and how they may think... Tell me," the angel was looking at you now, "how does it feel to live with someone so full of themselves?"

> Beside you, you can tell that Lucifer has stopped breathing. His red gaze was boring a hole through you, his wings twitching as he fought the urge to block your view of his angelic doppelganger.

> You lick your lips, gathering your thoughts. The angel too your silence as agreement and a smile spread across his face.

> "Don't you see, demon? They're afraid of you. Your overbearing, domineering treatment of them has rendered them too afraid to dare speak up in your presence."

> Lucifer flinched at the angel's words. You suddenly had a very vivid fantasy of pouncing forward and violently ripping handfuls of feathers out of the angel's wings.

> "They'll be much happier with me, don't you think?" the angel asked. You glanced at Lucifer and was absolutely shocked to see him considering the angel's words.

> "No!" The word was out of your mouth before you could even think.

> The angel raised an eyebrow. "No?"

> "No." You dug in your heels, glaring at this... oversized avian who dared to don the face of your beloved demon. Who dared to make him doubt himself like that. "No, I'm not scared of him. No, I do dare to speak up. No, I absolutely would not be happier with you!"

> You turned to Lucifer, not wanting to look at that... thing for even a second longer. He was staring at you, a rare look of surprise on his face. You stepped towards him, poking a finger at his chest.

> "You!" you started, "You may be absolutely full of yourself, but you do care! You care for Diavolo! You're always taking care of him even when it comes at the cost of your own health! You care for your brothers! You protected them when all of you first entered the Devildom and you protect them even now, even if you try to hide it. You care for me! You give me food when you notice I've been staying up late to study and you constantly ensure that my time at R.A.D. is safe and enjoyable! Do you think I don't notice this? Do you think no one notices this? Why are you believing that thing's lies?!"

> With every jab of your finger, Lucifer's eyes grow wider.

> "And you!" You whirled around to glare at the angel. "You're sitting there running your mouth when you're the one who's acting so full of yourself! I'm sick of your holier than thou attitude! Lucifer is caring, he is thoughtful, and he is so much more than what you accuse him of!” You pause for a moment to take a breath. The angel is examining you like you were a particularly interesting specimen slotted under a microscope. You’ve reached your limit. It was time to resort to violence.

> You were stopped before your feet left the ground by a pair of arms wrapping around your shoulders. It was soon followed by a curtain of dark feathers, blocking the angel from your sight, and you from his.

> “That’s enough,” Lucifer said. His voice was filled with the same confidence and pride that you know and love. “That thing is not worth your time.” A pause and then, softly, almost inaudibly, “Thank you.”

> And then,

> You wake up.

After the dream

> You were happy to see that Lucifer was no longer locking himself up his office again.

> He was also, strangely, a little more affectionate to you?

> He was also around a lot more often; not hovering per se, but just... there. A comforting presence, him by your side.

> His texts to you are more often now too.

> You start receiving gifts from him, packaged and pretty hanging on your doorknob, charmed with a powerful spell that curses everyone but you if they touch it. He still pretends he doesn't send them but you know and he knows you know.

> One day, over a dinner at the Ristorante Six, he'll finally tell you, in words, that he wants you to stay by his side; but until then, you enjoy his non-verbal affirmations of love.

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━[ᓀ˵◇˵ᓂ]━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

Mammon

After the party

> He became a shut in on par with Leviathan.

> However you notice that he has a lot of akuzon deliveries brought to his door, definitely more than what he could afford.

> When you try to talk to him he only shouts at you from behind his door. When you try to enter, you almost get squashed by the amount of piled up akuzon boxes and haphazardly piled up items.

> You knew Mammon was inside but you couldn't see him at all. You'd genuinely think that he got suffocated under the mess of his purchases if he hadn't been talking to you through the mess.

> But he still refused to come out to see you and you didn't know how to navigate his room, so you decided to leave him be for now.

In the white space

> There were two Mammons in front of you, one dressed in his angelic costume and the other in his demonic form. They seemed to be discussing something but you paid them no mind.

> Mammon had been your reliable protector since the start of your time in the Devildom and hence you had grown to associate safety with his presence.

> That was why you literally all but teleported to his side when you caught sight of him.

> However, the words coming out of the angel made you freeze in your tracks.

> "Shameless, greedy scum," the angel said. Mammon's body language finally registered in your head. Slightly hunched over, head turned to a side, wings curling in on himself, fists clenched and shaking... You hadn't seen him this bad before.

> "You know that they're too good for you, but you can't let them go. You'd rather chain them to you forever rather than allow them happiness. Your greed truly knows no bounds, even for someone you lo—"

> You skitter to a stop between the two. It was unnerving how much he looked like Mammon. Apart from the attire, the only difference you could tell was his eyes; Mammon's eyes were open and expressive while the angel's eyes did not give away his emotions at all. Controlled, you would call them.

> "MC," the angel greeted you with a smile.

> "MC, what're you doing here?!" In contrast to the angel, Mammon seemed aghast to see you here.

> "You want their attention and affection but you are reluctant to give yours," the angel said. "Greedy, greedy, greedy. The Avatar of Greed, do you really think you're worthy enough to stand by their side?"

> Oh, the angel was talking about you.

> Well if you weren't already angry before, you were now.

> You turn to look at Mammon only to see him shaking slightly. He refused to meet your eyes.

> "You actually hate it, don't you?" the angel said. The angel was looking at you now. "How unreliable he is. How selfish he is, always putting his own desires and needs above others. A nightmare to live with, much less be with."

> With every word out of the angel's mouth, you see Mammon flinch. You reach out to soothe him but he flinches away from you. He looked like he regretted it the moment he did it, but he had no chance to apologize before the stupid angel was opening their mouth to yap on.

> "How can anyone love something like him, much less you?" the angel asked and. Boy.

> You whirled around and threw a punch at the angel's face. It barely injured the angel and left you with a hurting fist, but the shock on the angel's face was worth it.

> "I love him," you declared loudly. "And so do his brothers."

> Mammon was staring at you with wide eyes and an open mouth.

> "And the things you've said? Utter horseshit. Mammon is one of most selfless demons I know." No one as powerful as him would allow himself to be a punching bag for his entire family without retaliation, no one but him. Mammon was the demon with the highest control, with the softest heart, and it showed with the interactions he had with his brothers... and you.

> He rarely said anything affectionate towards you, and the times he did were often rushed and unintelligible, but he didn't have to. Not when his love and affection shone through with every action he made.

> He was always giving love, only rarely ever receiving, And he never complained about it.

> And so hearing this angel spout such bullshit about Mammon, and Mammon believing it, really made you experience something.

> That something was an attempt to beat up the angel in front of you.

> You were quickly pulled off the angel, Mammon holding you tightly and firmly in his arms and you tried to continue with your punches and kicks.

> "That's enough." It was a rare occasion that his voice was so serious and it immediately calmed you down. Mammon shifted you to a more comfortable hold but did not let you go. "Ya ain't gonna hurt me with those dumb words," he told the angel, puffing out his chest. "I'm the great Mammon! I ain't gonna listen to your bullshit!"

> Warmth blossomed in your heart as you hear Mammon regain his confidence.

> "And MC is mine! No one's worthy of them but that doesn't mean I won't—"

> You wake up.

After the dream

> Mammon finally exited his room and the first person he went to was you.

> He swooped you up in a big hug, abruptly waking you from your slumber.

> He started becoming more honest and less shy as well, no longer putting on airs. His affection for you was as clear as day. It's a work in progress but Mammon is still able to convey his affection even if he ends up screaming it with a red face.

> You notice that he's been taking up more responsibility lately, even getting a steady part time job. He uses the money to take you out on nice dates and buy you nice gifts.

> Also has become even clingier, but it's not like you're going to complain. ⭒☆━━━━━━━━━⸜₍๑•⌔•๑ ₎⸝━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

Leviathan

After the party

> Leviathan had been making some headway in getting more comfortable in his own skin, cutting down on insults to himself. This party set him back a thousand years.

> Every word out of his mouth was self-derogatory and full of hate.

> He refused to answer your texts.

> He never left his room, even for mealtimes.

> In fact he didn't eat at all? Which was concerning. You even tried to bribe him with Ruri-chan, but all it resulted was a crash and a faint sob.

> It was after that that you decided to leave him be for a while.

In the white space

> There was nothing in the white space except a pond and Leviathan in his angel costume.

> Recalling Leviathan's reaction to you before, you carefully approached him and called out his name. To your surprise, he turned to look at you with a smile on his face.

> You were delighted at first but the delight quickly drained away when you recognized the bright but bland smile on his face, along with his calm, placid eyes.

> It was the Leviathan from the party looking at you now, not the Leviathan you were missing.

> "MC!" he said cheerily. "I'm so glad you're here!"

> "...hello." He didn't seem to noticed that you were being subdued, quickly stepping forward to grab your hands. You tried to suppress your flinch, fearing that Leviathan was actually in there somewhere. You scanned his body for the brainwash bangle but did not find it. Worry started to gnaw at your heart. How were you going to break this curse if you couldn't find its anchor?

> "I missed you," angel Leviathan continued. "Sorry for avoiding you, I was just throwing a temper tantrum. I won't be doing that again. As I've said before, I'll be giving up on anime, manga, and the like to forge closer connections with my brothers... and of course with you."

> You step back. The angel follows.

> "I was weak before, a no-good shut-in loser who'd rather lose himself in the 2D world rather than face reality." Unlike before, the words were spoken without an ounce of shame or even emotion. It was like angel Leviathan was stating facts rather than belittling himself. Somehow, that bothered you more.

> "You're not weak," you spoke. "You're not any of those at all. You've been putting in a lot of effort lately, and besides being interested in anime isn't a weakness. You're passionate about what you like and unafraid of showing it. Isn't that a strength?"

> Angel Leviathan shrugged, brushing your words aside. It was incredibly uncharacteristic of him.

> "I suppose," he said. "Either way, don't you prefer me like this? Outspoken, confident, unafraid? I can tell you how I feel. I love you, MC. Don't you love me?"

> There was something wrong. A nagging feeling in your heart had been present ever since you entered this strange place and right now it merely grew stronger.

> "Not like this," you said, pulling your hand away from his. "There's something wrong with you right now, Levi, you're not in your right mind."

> "I'm in my right mind. In fact, I can safely say that I've never been better. Say you love me, MC."

> Leviathan would never push you like this. He had always respected your boundaries, knowing how unpleasant it was like to have his own constantly prodded and pushed.

> "You're not Levi," you realized. Immediately you looked around, quickly moving away from angel Leviathan. "Where is he? What have you done to him?"

> Angel Leviathan looked so confused for a moment that you almost believed him. But then his expression turned to derision and your blood ran cold.

> "Why do you care about that disgusting otaku anyway? Aren't I better? Why don't you choose me?"

> The angel must have been out of his fucking mind if he thought that you were going to choose him after all this.

> You took another step back and—

> You plunge into the lake, the breath knocked out of you by the impact. Just as you started to panic, your eyes catch sight of something that made you freeze.

> There was Leviathan, the Leviathan you knew and loved, in his demon form staring back at you with wide eyes.

> What the fuck.

> Had he been here the entire time?!

> Instead of you, now Leviathan was the one panicking. He grabbed you and swam quickly to the surface, bringing you out of the lake. You gasped for air once you breached the surface, Leviathan's arm supporting you and keeping you upright.

> "Levi!" you said once you caught your breath. "Where were you? Why didn't you come up?"

> Leviathan was not looking at you. Once he had placed you back onto the shore, he suck back down into the water until only his eyes and the top of his head were visible. You put the pieces together.

> "...were you hiding?"

> "Of course that coward was hiding." Oh god. The angel was still not done. Now that you knew for a fact that he wasn't Leviathan, you felt an incandescent rage start boiling within you. You tamp it down. For now. "He didn't want to face the idea that you might choose me over him."

> Choosing again. It seemed important.

> "It's okay if you choose him instead," Leviathan was clearly lying through his teeth. "If... If it makes you happy. Who would want to be with a loser otaku like me who can't even tell the person he loves that he wants to hold their hand? Much less that he loves them?"

> Your heart was breaking and you pushed yourself into the water again. Leviathan yelped in surprise and quickly swam forward to catch you. You took the opportunity to put your hands on either side of his face.

> "Levi, there's no way I'd choose anyone over you," you told him. "You are my Lord of the Shadows and no one else can take your place."

> You feel Leviathan's cheeks heat up under your palms.

> "Do you mean it?" It was said in a whisper but you managed to catch it. You nod and a brilliant smile spread across his face.

> He looked up at the angel and maneuvered you around so that he was in between you and the angel. His tail had found its way to you and it was now curling around you in a possessive manner you had long grown familiar with.

> "MC is m... MC is my Henry! Not yours!" Leviathan declared. His tail squeezed a little tighter but you still felt no discomfort. "And I am their Lord of the Shadows. I'll protect them, so there's no way you'll ever get your hands on them!"

> You tried to cheer Leviathan on but then,

> You wake up.

After the dream

> Leviathan sent you a message to meet him in his room and you went there immediately. There, he apologized for ignoring you, saying that he hadn't been feeling well but was better now.

> The tip of his tail was subconsciously curled around your ankle but you didn't point it out to him, not wanting him to be self-conscious.

> After that you notice that Leviathan was a lot more open with his words. He still stuttered and turned red, but he was trying. Even if he ended up running away afterwards sometimes.

> Soon, he even grew brave enough to ask you to h*ld his h*nd! Once the first barrier had been breached, however, the two of you started holding hands all the time.

> If his hands were busy with gaming, expect his tail to seek you out.

> One day, he'll muster up the courage to tell you how he feels. But until then, you're happy to wait. ⭒☆━━━━━━～>º˵)ニニニニ>━━━━━━☆⭒

#obey me x reader #obey me #obey me fanfic #iyumeu writes om #angelic demons event #bullet fic #sigh here comes the tags #lucifer x reader #mammon x reader #leviathan x reader #obey me shall we date #obey me x mc #lucifer x mc #mammon x mc #leviathan x mc #im part of mammon protection squad. are you?#anyway the lore (yes there's lore) is that if you choose the angel the angel will take over the body and the demon will like... die or sth #or be imprisoned in a mind cage for all eternity. probably that. good thing u didn't choose the angel right #sorry if ur mc is not violent... if i hear anyone talking shit abt my demon dudes like that i'll legit start throwing hands #and no one will be able to stop me #hmm should i do younger brother edition...#anyway i headcanon levi as someone who respects your boundaries a lot because #of his character song and the unit song... in the unit song he's the only one who doesn't make a demand #he only makes a request: for you to hold his hand #does MC remember the contents of the dream? who knows. up to you.#your demon boyos def do though

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aravas-writing · 3 years ago

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(Secret Star AU)

Title: "Ravenous Rave Romp!"

Cinder had been desperate for money, her normal "allowance" delayed for some reason (Watts!) Which means she needed a job. Emerald, who she had just recruited, said this place would be perfect, but Cinder had second thoughts the minute she walked into the porn studio. But before she could protest, Emerald had already signed her up for a Rave scene, wearing a multi coloured wig, hiding her identity. Cinder reluctantly went along with it, it wasn't like this smiling blonde could be rough with her, which she would have known, had she read the script...

She hated this whole situation with all of her heart. Cinder Fall was not a prostitute! She dangled the dream of sex with her in front of others to do her bidding, not give away her body!

She was done with that ever since she left the Silver Unicorn...once had been well enough.

Alas, that brazen arrogant fool Watts told her that there was some form of difficulty to move her required funds, so she would have to get a job.

Who the hell did he think she was?!

Calm...Calm...deep breaths... Emerald tried her best to get something that would get money easy while being somewhat dignified and matching Cinder's CV.

Somehow, her help had come up with an adult film company looking for new talent. Cinder had almost fried the chocolate-skinned street rat for it, but she had to concede that the terms of the contract she brought back were acceptable. It was a small consolation, alongside Emerald also being given a form.

Of course the greenette would have to fill her copy out as well.

The script was easy enough. Dance in a rave party alongside carefully chosen actors, all of whom actually seemed to relish being able to party on company clock. Then she was to carefully seduce her co-star into dancing with her, before getting dirty right on the dance floor.

Cinder had to admit, public sex had a thrill to it, which was possibly why she accepted these tacky-looking extensions in her hair. Sure, no one outside could tell that those weren't actually part of her hair, but still! Green and blue?!

Right, she was supposed to be a raver...

Miniskirt ready for easy access, skimpy top, makeup done and she was ready to rock the world of whatever guy was going to be sent her way.

...wait, how would one dance rave?

Too late, the crowd was ready and music was getting blasted through the speakers. It was a rather unsophisticated tune, but it certainly was easy enough to dance to. All one had to do was follow the beat.

Easy enough. The bodies around her were dancing fairly close to her, but not close enough to disrupt either Cinder or the cameras. The ravenette put on a bit of a show for them. A shimmy turned into a luscious roll of her hips, before excitedly jump around and letting her ass jiggle beneath her skirt.

And, of course, she only wore a thin thong.

As she danced, she noticed a figure approaching her spot on the dance floor. Judging him to be her co-star, Cinder threw a sneaky glance his way. Blonde hair adorned a head sitting on a tall body as blue eyes sparkled with mischief and adoration in equal parts.

'Oh no, he's hot.' That was most definitely not Cinder Fall's immediate thought upon seeing the guy, who himself was dressed in a shirt and shorts which both featured splatters of neon paint.

She used all her skill as a receiver to pretend to notice him just as he started appearing close to her own space on the dance floor. A howl of excitement ran through the crowd as the song changed. Fittingly enough, it was called "Satisfaction".

A coy smile his way and an extended hand, this silly boy took one huge step towards the Fall Maiden turned raver and danced to the beat. His hands met her hips immediately as he got close, a smile on his own lips as the two actually had fun.

Cinder could scarcely believe it herself. She was having fun to gaudy music and dancing with this ridiculously handsome- this adequately attractive stranger. Her smile became a little more genuine, certainly more so since she became what she was today.

But alas, this lighthearted atmosphere had to be shattered and replaced with a more sexual one. Taking his arm and lifting it slightly, the seductress used the opening to dance right into his arms, rubbing her shapely ass against his crotch. To finish this, she lifted her head to smile at the blonde boy.

He looked surprised at her forwardness, but soon relented and let his hands roam her perfect body. One caressed her thigh, inching close to her crotch while lifting her skirt as another roamed her flat stomach while searching a way towards her boobs.

Another jiggle of her ass, some pressing of her hips against his, and Cinder knew that her co-star was packing. Certainly something to look forward to as one of his hands finally made it up to her clothed boob to cup it gently. His thumb started to circle her nipple through the fabric, making Cinder bite her lip and shimmy around in his arms some more. Her flat stomach undulating was perfectly caught on camera.

Through the droning beat, Cinder wished he could hear her breathing heavily under his touch as he whispered all the dirty things he would do to her in her ear. Alas, there was no sound beyond the music.

Not that words were really necessary. The blonde's hand finally crept beneath her skirt, teasing and caressing her clad mound. She moaned, not that anyone could hear, as she realized that she had gotten wet under him. As his hand kept caressing her, she looked back up to him, craning her neck as she did, and smiled at him using her best fuck-me eyes.

He would have to oblige her, since they still starred in a porn video. He needed to fuck her, he just had to! Oum knows she wanted it.

Nice, well-shaped fingers pulled her thong away, baring what little it concealed to a curious camera lens as the music changed again to a different sound, this one like something was approaching. Cinder smiled at the timing of it as her handsome co-star probed her pussy, exploring it carefully instead of jamming it in like a possessive brute.

So many steps up from what she had to endure...He was focused on her pleasure, his finger scraping against her in the nicest way, pistoning in and out of her tight and ready pussy.

Cinder patience left as her libido rose, and she had to pull his wrist away from her pussy and towards her ass as she turned around, facing him now.

A female voice could be heard in this track, seemingly addressing the listener with an endearing and horny "Hey Baby", asking them increasingly lustful questions. Cinder herself fumbled at her blonde stud's- her friendly blonde's pants to fish out his painfully hard cock. Amber eyes not leaving blue, nimble hands wandered all over his length as her smile grew. Finally, she pulled close, slinging a leg around his hip and directing his cock close to her waiting muff. She could feel his tip close to her lips, so close that her hips moved against it in her own.

Finally, her blonde grabbed the ravenette by the hips and the leg slung around him, balancing her, and guided himself inside her. He didn't even use his hands, making her eyes widen as he entered her just like that.

To anyone looking on, the two were dancing very provocatively. To Cinder Fall, this was an experience unlike any other. He fit her excellently, dare she say perfectly; his cock filled her pussy completely! All the sexy minx wanted was for him to move immediately, perhaps giving her her first orgasm!

Dammit, she was so turned on!

His one hand cupping her ass cheek, he pressed deep and rhythmically inside her, then pulling out, then repeat three times before he followed with several shallow thrusts.

Cinder was certain that her juices were glistening in the lights as the speaking part of the song turned overtly sexual and her man fucked her good. Waves of pleasure ran through her, coursing through her veins as he held her close, amber eyes gazing at him with something so close to adoration that she herself wondered...

"Oh my God!" The girl in the song moaned in pretend lust as Cinder gasped it in actual lust as he simply picked her up, arms beneath her kneepits, and fucked her hard and good while standing.

She was getting close as he made his lust for her relentlessly known. Blue eyes and a mouth slightly opened to moan softly mirrored her own expression as she approached her own high; the very first anyone ever gave her!

A head snapped forward in the decisive moment and hungry lips met, tongues battling against one another as their climax rocked their bodies, a deluge if fun filling Cinder as her partner shivered, moaning into her mouth as her own sounds vibrated, letting them both feel it.

Finally, they separated, and Cinder was gently set down on wobbly legs. Not wasting a second, right after his still-hard dick was back in his pants, she pointed off the dance floor, in the vague direction of "private", and took his hand to lead him away...

"Cut!" The director yelled through the sound. "Excellent shoot, you two! Magnificent performance! You led her well, Jamie!"

As the ravenette blinked owlishly, torn out of her horny mode, her partner basically scratched the back of his head. "Thank you, but I'm pretty sure my partner here is the real star," he screamed back over the din of the ongoing party and pointing to the ravenette.

"Ah, certainly!" The director nodded to her. "We'll wire you your payment for this gig ASAP! You can go to the showers now; just-"

As soon as Cinder heard the word "showers" and saw the hand pointing in the direction, her trek continued, pulling this "Jamie" along undeterredly.

As soon as they arrived, her clothes practically flew off of her while she hungrily glared at the blonde. "I want a second round, Jamie," she clarified.

"Jaune, actually; Jamie is my stage-"

"Jaune, then." He was almost adorably nervous. "Get those extensions out if my hair and I'll make it worth it," Cinder commanded in her best seductress voice, beckoning him to follow as she headed to the shower.

She would definitely sign up to exclusively work with him...

#rwby #secret star au #cinder fall #jaune arc #rwby smut #rwby knightfall

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plush-rabbit · 3 years ago

Text

Birthday Headcanons W/ Lucifer

Request: hii!! its my birthday today so i was wondering if i could get a fluffy nsfw fic with lucifer celebrating the readers (or MC i guess) birthday?? thank you so much i love all your writing ❤️❤️❤️

A/N: So this is totally on me for not having a rules page or anything so defs not on you, but for birthday related things I do prefer a bit of heads up for fics since it takes a while. Again, this isn’t you, I've been meaning to make a rule page but alas, I haven't. So because of the short notice, you get headcanons! I love you and happy birthday and I am so sorry!! Again, this is on me.

Lucifer is meticulous when planning, wanting everything under his name and eyes to be perfect, to have a solid grasp on it and allow no room for mistakes. He’s been aware of the date for a good month by now. He’s fretted over preparations, asked seemingly innocent questions and has called in a few favors with his brothers to figure out exactly what you would prefer on your birthday. The rational part of him is aware that you’ll be happy with anything, that you enjoy your time with them and that even a dinner with suffice for you but he doesn’t want something that will just “suffice”; he wants you to be happy, he wants you to lean against him and hold his hand and thank him. Perhaps it's a bit of his more selfish demeanor peeking through him, but he wants to know that he made you happy- that it was his doing and his plans that made your birthday unforgettable.

He takes great care in his planning, making sure your party is up to your standards and his- even though it isn’t his party, he still wants it to be perfect. The party is held at the House of Lamentation, music played and while it might not be entirely his taste, he does enjoy a small dance with you before you are whisked away. While he would have preferred to have you for the rest of the party, you seem to be enjoying yourself and he’ll let it slide. He’ll watch you dance as he leans against a wall, a glass of red in his hand while a smile graces the embodiment of pride. You’re happy with your party and at the end of every dance, you seek him out, eyes searching until they meet his eyes, and you’re so excited about it all. You reach your hand out at the end of one song, and he scoffs lightly under his breath, peeling away from the wall only to have the cake brought out. There is disappointment on both of your faces but you still run to him, the bottom of your shoes clicking against the floor.

Your hand twists into his as you lead him to the place where the cake is brought out. It is a lovely cake, one that looks far too beautiful to be cut and even you seem to have some hesitation when the candles are placed above. The candles are a bright flame, shadows against your face when the attendants sing a song for you, your face flushed and your eyes glued to the frosting, far too embarrassed to have people sing to you. You blow out the candles and the cake is cut by his hand over yours. Each slice is cut perfectly, handed out to the eager guests and he sits beside you. You comment on the frosting, telling him how it melts in your mouth and how you love the cake that was made. His hand is on your bare hand, and he smiles, a rush of pride between the both of you when you continue to eat the cake that he had chosen the flavor of.

When the party's over, he’ll call in a few more favors, the mess not being something that either of you has to worry about. Once inside the room, he’ll lock the door behind him, his back towards you momentarily as he raises a hand, a glyph in the air that seals the room to be only the two of you inside without interruptions. You chuckle at his carefulness, glad that he takes every precaution. He gives you a mere glance, a half smile on his features as he walks to you, his hands on your waist and his lips against yours. He tastes bitter, a hint of raspberry on his tongue as he leans into you. The sweet taste of frosting lingers on his tongue, filling your mouth with something that makes you grasp onto the front of his shirt.

You cling onto him, pulling him closer into you, the tips of his shoes nipping against yours. His apology is muted between your lips, your hands constantly against him, pulling him closer. Your movements are far too jittery, rushed and antsy, confidence shooting throughout your body and thick on your saliva that he can taste it. You’re bold on your birthday, eager to have him touch you. He’s being led to the bed, pulling away to have you lead him until you stop at the edge. You look up at him with a flushed face, your bravado faltering as your hands flutter to a button of his shirt. You look up at him with doe eyes, your tongue between your lips for a moment.

His smile is sharp, his hand clasping around your wrists. Your plans for action have been stopped for a moment. He teases lightly, his hand formed into a light fist under your chin as he nudges you to look up at him. His eyes glow in the room, playfulness heavy on him. His other hand trails to cup your sex, his grin wide when you whine under him. It may be your birthday, but humor him just for the moment, tell him what exactly it is that you want him to do. He’ll move to grab your hand, guiding it to his own sex, letting you feel the thickness that rests underneath the fabric. All you have to do is tell him exactly what you want him to do to you, his lips against your, breath hot and heavy, puffing against your lips and it’s intoxicating for him to be so close.

Once you voice your wish, he pushes you onto the bed, removing his own clothes as you undo yours. He lowers himself on his knees, his eyes peeking past your tummy and his hands holding you down on your thighs. His tongue is pressed against your leaking slit, your essence thick on his tongue as it slides down his throat. He swirls his tongue around your sex, suckling more of you until his cheeks hollow and the sounds of your sex being kissed echoes in the room. Tears fill your eyes, your body shaking under his tongue. He is unforgiving, nursing on your sex until he is full, feeling every tense of your muscles as a wave of pleasure runs through your body.

He rises above you, his member throbbing and leaking with pre. He presses against your hole, the tip of it pushing past the rim that is still wet with his spit. He’ll call you master but his expression is nothing submissive. He presses himself inside of you, feeling your tight walls close around him. Your rim clenches tightly around him, milking him and desperate for his seed to be inside of you, Your hands claw onto his shoulders, faint pink lines left its wake as he thrusts inside of you. He kisses away your tears, his name repeated like a mantra, your body curving into his. You beg for more, for him to continue and use you. You hold his face in your hands, your lips wet against his as you meet every thrust.

It isn’t long until he releases inside of you. His semen is thick, swelling against your belly and spilling past your puffy hole in heavy, creamy ropes. He pulls out for a moment, admiring his work. His hand presses against your sex, fingers reaching against your hole as his seed stains his fingers. He pulls it up, watching as it sticks to his fingers and slides down them with rich consistency. He squishes your face, your lips pursed into an oval shape, eyes still fresh with tears. His fingers rest on the tip of your tongue and you suck on them greedily.

A giving lover that prides himself on more things than just himself, Lucifer keeps you entertained until you call out the safe word. He gives you the power for the night, your hand at his throat, your pact mark glowing a deep blue hue. He fills you with his seed, every shudder of your walls aching him to go further and further, to fill you with his semen until you leak with just the slightest movement. He gives you the power for the night, pulling your body close to his and spreading your legs. His hand fondles with your chest, pulling and tugging on the nipples, his mouth latched onto a nipple feeling it harden under his tongue. He’ll make all your desires come true for the night, kissing at your lips and leaving his mark on your body. The power is shared, given to you and used on you, he enters your stretched hole, pressing himself deep into you until you are sobbing under him, his name the only thing that you can echo.

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loveislattes · 3 years ago

Text

Good Morning (Darkiplier/Reader) Fluffy Smut Drabble

Request: As a drabble, waking up sleepy and content next to your choice of either Dark or Infelix. Can just stay fluffy and adorable or they can be a little more, dirty ;)

Important: Reader is gender-neutral but is a vagina owner!

Warnings: Smut (obvi), pet names, light choking, power play, shadow tendril/tentacles, and no use of protection.

A/N: This was written quickly on my phone while at work so please excuse any errors. I was just excited to get something down on paper!

As always, if you would like to support me, I have a Ko-Fi (here) for donations and I usually have a few slots open for commissions (unless life gets in the way)!

Ever so slowly, the awake world began to invade your sleepy space as you rolled onto your side with a throaty groan. The alarm hadn't gone off yet so you knew it wasn't time to wake up, but you weren't brave enough to crack your eyelids and check those blaring red numbers to see just how long you had left.

As you were starting to fall back into a light slumber, your bed partner curled up around you with a deep groan. Goosebumps ran down your arms as the prickles of his short beard dragged across your bare shoulder.

"What time is it?"

Desire shot through your body at the sleepy rasp whispered right into your ear and you couldn't resist wiggling back against him in turn, whimpering as his straining cock pushed against your bare thighs.

"I haven't checked," you admitted softly, "Early though."

"Good."

The burn of his beard slowly gave way to soft lips and easy nibbles that trailed up your shoulder to the lobe of your ear. Sharp teeth pulled a heady gasp from your lips while his fingers drew your top thigh back over his, his dick slotting perfectly against your cunt.

"That means I have time to ravish you before the fools are demanding my attention," Dark purred huskily, "That is, if you're up to it, darling."

Wordlessly, you reached back and sunk your fingers into his shaggy locks, gently directing his mouth to your throat as you stretched your leg back further to offer him room.

"Always, my love," you murmured.

"Hmmm, that's my good pet," he rumbled lowly against your throat.

You were thankful for the late-night romp that left you both nude because it meant there was no barrier to impede his fingers from slipping between your thighs.

"Fuck!"

Every swirl of his fingertips pulled weak tremors from your form, clit still hypersensitive from the blessed tongue lashing he'd treated you to hours ago. When a rather rough convulsion made you yelp, he slowed his motions and brought his hand to your hip instead.

Before you could even question him, he said, "If this is going to be too much-"

"No! It's not that. I'm just really sensitive still. I want this. Maybe just avoid my clit for a while?"

He didn't respond other than a warm hum and immediately you knew he was reconsidering the whole ordeal. He did that a lot, got overprotective over silly things- even over himself. To help sway him back to the dark side, you hastily lifted your hips and wiggled so his head was pushing ever so slightly against your entrance.

His nails dug sharply into your skin as he unleashed a demonic growl.

"I want you, please," you begged softly.

"You're playing with danger, darling, but I suppose I shall humor you this once."

He snapped his hips forward without hesitation and buried his cock as far as possible with that first thrust, and in that same motion, his idle hand came to encircle your throat.

At that moment, it felt like you had shattered into a million delicious pieces. Your mind instantly shifted into that carefully crafted space that was reserved for Dark, and Dark only, as he invaded every inch of your body. Having had him again after many loving, arduous rounds a few hours ago... it was like you'd never stopped in the first place.

"Look at you," he grunted softly, "My perfect little pet, still so wet and ready for me, taking me so perfectly."

"A-Always, Dark, always ready!" You gasped out between breaths.

Your blood pumped heavily in your head as he tightened his fingers and quickened his thrusts. The slap of skin on skin synchronized almost perfectly with every thump of your heart and momentarily you wondered if he could hear your heart race to time it so perfectly.

Aching to touch him, you snagged his wrist tight and ran your thumb back and forth over the top of his hand, mumbling frantic "I love you"s as he hastily pushed you toward the end.

"And I you, my love."

He suddenly withdrew his hold on your throat, fingers dancing down your curves until they came to rest just below your navel.

"May I touch you now?" He purred sweetly.

"Fuck, Dark, yes!"

His nails left a stinging trail down your stomach and over your mound, making you clench hard down on him before gracing you with a sweet burst of pleasure.

"Fu-uh-ck," he hissed sharply.

Before you knew what was happening, you were facedown. Dark manhandled you onto your knees, hips high in the arm and back arched low, giving him the perfect leverage to thrust back in without pause.

As if planned by the universe, there was a knock at the door the moment he started to speak.

"Hey-"

"If you do not disappear within the next two seconds, I will spend the next millennia eviscerating you from the inside out, over and over until I tire of seeing your entrails at my feet. Am I clear?!"

Your cheeks reddened in mortification as your body reacted undeniably to power and rage in his voice, hips pushing back into his, needing more of his touch.

You felt as if bruises would form instantly as his hands took place harshly on your hips, jerking you back again as he thrust in with a snarl.

"You like that, do you?" He sneered darkly, "Is it knowing that I would kill to remain in you for just a second longer, hmm? Or maybe… just maybe, it's the knowledge that if I didn't love you so, I could easily do the same to you?"

An uncontrollable whine escaped as you buried your face in the pillows, but suddenly his hand was around the back of your neck, jerking your head up almost painfully.

"Tell me, darling, am I right?" He asked, voice shaking with the strength of each thrust of his hips.

You found words to be nearly impossible as he fucked you rough and frantic, the taste of your orgasm teasing at the edges of fruition.

"Yes, yes, oh fuck- yesss!"

He released his hold only to shove your face back into the pillows, head aside to allow you just enough room to breathe, with a death grip on the nape of your neck to pin you in place.

"Come for me then. Let me feel what my power does to you."

The sound of the headboard slamming into the wall thundered through the room, rivaled only by the tortured cries and moans pouring from your lips. And then you felt that familiar coil of cool energy between your thighs. If you could look, you knew you'd find one of those dangerous black shadows wrapped around your hip, dipping just below your belly, and the thought alone made you tighten. You knew he would never hurt you, but you'd also seen the pain and horror his powers could amass.

His name became a jumbled prayer on your lips as you shuddered under him. Every thrust of his cock, every brush of that life-stealing tendril, it coalesced into a mighty and fierce wave that stole your breath.

Tears smeared messily between your face and the pillow as your pleasure erupted with finality. You couldn't help but release a sob of utter devastation at the bliss wrecking your nerves, core clenching painfully tight around him as if trying to keep him in and never let him go.

"Oh fuck- that's it, pet," he snarled brokenly, "Like a fucking vice- agh!"

The sensation of his cock throbbing and emptying hot into your cunt sent you over another little wave, tearing a distraught moan from deep in your chest.

It was overwhelming in the best of ways.

As if knowing your turmoil, Dark released all holds on your body and gently brought you both onto your sides- oh so similar to the way you had started.

Despite panting for breath like you'd just run a marathon, you couldn't help the goofy smile that curved up your lips.

"If there weren't so much to be done, I'd cancel it all just to lay here and see that beautiful expression on your face, darling. You are absolute perfection," he murmured, planting a great kiss on your cheek, "But alas, I have some… unfortunates to lead."

#dark/reader #fanfiction #smut #fluff #morning loving #power play #pet names #light choking #no beta we die like the plebs we are

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shreddedparchment · 4 years ago

Text

A Wife for Thor Pt.05

10/28/2020

Preparations

Pairing: King!Thor x Reader Word Count: 6,652

Warnings: angst, slight smut?, language, fluff

A/N: Thank you everyone, for putting up with my emotional ass. After some thought, and when I was feeling better and not so sad (?), I really didn’t wanna make those of you keeping up with the story wait for the next chapter. I hope you all enjoy this one and if you happen to reblog, thank you so much for helping me spread my work! xoxo

Please DO NOT repost my stories on any other blogs or sites.

REBLOGS are always welcome!

The city is lively with beautiful Asgardians rushing about their daily lives. In the time since it’s completion, New Asgard and its inhabitants have settled into a routine. New lives on a planet now once again full of growth, community interaction, and celebration when the time is right.

“We’ll give you a proper tour tomorrow.” Brunnhilde says, reaching forward to tap the shoulder of the man driving you both. “Stop here.”

“Wait, aren’t you coming with me?” You ask, startled as she throws open the back door of the sleek black sedan.

“No. I have other things to prepare for the wedding and then I have to check in on my Valkyrie. Your escorts will meet you at the shop.” Brunnhilde assures you.

“But-”

“Bye!” She smiles at you and slams the door in your face.

You sit there, confused and at a loss. Your anxiety begins to mount when the driver, a handsome young Asgardian man with long braided black hair, clears his throat and draws your attention to the front.

“Shall I drive on Your Highness?” He asks, glancing in his rearview mirror at you.

“Um…” You’ll never get used to that stupid your highness stuff. “Yes.”

“Very good, Your Highness.”

“Can’t you just call me, Y/N?” You ask, feeling awkward.

“No.” He says, a smile on his face. “I cannot. I can see why his Majesty has chosen you.”

You’re surprised by this statement, and you’re pretty sure it’s insolent maybe? You don’t know because this is all new to you, but you don’t really care either way.

“Why?”

“You don’t remember me?” He asks, as he drives down the street.

As they pass, the Asgardians stop in their walking or talking or errand running to watch you drive by. Some of them smile with excitement, even moving with the car a few steps before stopping.

They’re all dressed normal. Asgardian garb abandoned to fit in on Earth. Not all of them. Some still wear their own clothes. Some of them wear a mixture of both. It’s a mish-mash of two cultures and you understand the need for a human Queen a little more.

“No.” You shake your head, giving the driver your full attention.

“I didn’t think you would.” He admits, smiling still. “You were very nervous when I first drove you up to the palace. Quite literally shaking in your pretty shoes.”

Was he your driver then too?!

“Alas, I understand his Majesty’s choice because you were the only woman that sat in my car and spoke to me. You may not have been aware enough to remember me, but you were very kind. Very concerned about me despite the stress you were in.” He looks in his rearview mirror again, meeting your eyes. “My wife gave birth, by the way.”

“Oh!” Your mind is struck with an unfocused conversation, hazy but you remember the pregnant wife. “I remember!”

You’re way too excited about remembering and the driver chuckles.

“Was it a boy or a girl?” You ask eagerly.

“A girl.” He smiles. “We’ve named her Luta.”

“Congratulations!” You exclaim gently, so happy for him.

“Thank you, Your Highness. I’ll tell my wife you said so.” He promises.

“I’d love to meet her.” You hope, leaning forward to get a better look at the side of his face.

“I’m not sure that will be possible. You’ll be terribly busy, and my wife is also with our little girl.”

“What if I came to pay her a special visit?” You really want to meet her.

“If you could find the time, Your Highness, my wife and I would be happy to receive you.” He smiles.

“I’m sorry if you told me last time we met, but what is your name?”

“Armod, Your Highness.” He tells you, turning down a second and smaller street.

The people are still dense, gathered around stalls and smaller shops as Armod drives a little slower to keep a careful eye on the families attending what must be an early morning market.

You take it in as quickly as you can, devouring the sight of these beautiful people and in return they turn to watch you go by.

They turn to each other, have quick and silent—to you—exchanges before a few of them begin to turn and wave.

Nervous, you wave timidly, smiling because you can’t help it. It isn’t a conscious decision.

The side street is so packed with stalls that it makes it impossible for people to follow the car at the speed it’s going, even reduced.

You’re a little grateful. You don’t want to get mobbed without someone else here to dilute the excitement.

“The people are very excited to see their future Queen.” Armod explains, “Forgive them their exuberance.”

“I hope I don’t disappoint them.”

As the crowd thins out, and Armod pulls the car into a gentle stop, he shakes his head, “Trust me, Your Highness, you won’t.”

Your car door opens. Into your view slides a pale white hand, luxurious suit jacket sleeve barely hiding the equally expensive white button-up underneath.

“Your Highness,” greets a familiar voice.

Taking his hand, Loki pulls you from the car, helping you stand and even reaching down to adjust the long train of your right sleeve.

The dress is sparkling blue, a body-hugging gold silk dress underneath the top sheer voile blue layer on top. The right sleeve is long, ends at your wrist, with a train that flows down at an equal length to that of your skirt. The left side is sleeveless.

You’re nervous about the deep V of your bodice, the scrunched-up shoulders of your dress carefully balanced there but too precarious for your liking.

With he sun out, the chill in the air isn’t so bad, but here in the shade of what must be the bridal shop, you shiver.

“You look lovely.” Loki smiles.

“I look stupid.” You counter, feeling very exposed and not at all pretty with how tight the dress feels.

“Allow me to politely disagree.” Loki takes your hand and leads it around his elbow as become aware of the people gathering around to catch a look at you. “I think the crowd would agree with me.”

“Can we go inside, please?” You beg, waving at the small group as other begin to flock from their spots at distant stalls to join the crowd.

“Of course.” Loki taps your hand then escorts you into the shop.

You relax a little once you’re inside and warm.

A middle-aged looking woman moves towards the two of you, her hand subtly stroking a large fold of crimson fabric on the low center shelf before she reaches you and then dips into a low curtsy before rising and grabbing her hands to hold at chest level.

“Good morning, your Highnesses!” She exclaims, gushing to an embarrassing degree.

“Good morning, Gorm. How are you?” Loki asks politely.

He doesn’t seem truly interested in her answer, but he waits kindly while she flusters with the honor of his polite concern.

“I am much better now that you and our King Thor’s lovely intended have arrived. Such an honor to meet you, Your Highness.” She says, addressing you directly.

“Thank you.” You reply, startled by her a bit. “It’s so great to meet you.”

“Tell me, Gorm, have you received His Majesty’s instructions on the dress we’d like?” Loki checks.

“Oh, yes, Your Highness! I’ve been working non-stop on several options since I received them.” She assures him, gesturing back towards a doorway past a long wooden counter with a modern cash register and signature pad for credit cards.

“Excellent.” Loki smiles. “Now, while I hate to do this to you, love—do you think you can handle a few hours alone with Gorm to do your fitting?”

“You’re leaving?” You ask, once again shocked, just like with Brunnhilde.

“I’m afraid I have several other things to do for the wedding and with the Earth and Asgardian ambassadors eager to have the wedding as soon as possible, I have to take every chance I can get to run these errands. Not like I have anything better to do…” Loki’s voice is slightly bitter, but only for a moment before he taps your hand again. “Don’t worry, I’ll be back long before you’re finished. Gorm doesn’t leave anything to chance with her gowns and this one is the most important one you will wear in your life. We have to get it right, don’t we Gorm?”

Gorm is already nodding, her blonde graying hair flowing like waves across her shoulders as she does. “Oh, yes, Your Highness. I will make sure that not only will the dress fit His Majesty’s expectations, but you too shall feel beautiful and like the dress was made just for you, Your Highness.”

“There you are.” Loki smiles. “I’ll be back.”

He pulls your hand up to his lips to kiss your knuckles before letting it go and moving towards the door, leaving you and Gorm to stand awkwardly for a few moments after the door shuts behind him.

“Shall we?” She gestures back towards the doorway and since there’s no way to get out of this, you fix her with a nervous smile and nod.

“Yes.” You sigh, and follow her, making sure to hold onto the counter as your round it so that you don’t trip on your train.

~~~~~~~~~~

Stomach absolutely growling, you slip your arms through the sleeves of the dress you’ve pretty much settled on.

The past five hours have had you step in and out of two other dresses three times, and this one a total of eight times. Each time so that Gorm can make alterations to length and cut and detail.

It’s surprising to you that this particular dress should need so much maintenance when it’s the simplest of the bunch.

You’d fallen for it almost at first sight but had tried the other two more frilly dresses to appease Gorm since Thor had requested something feminine to counteract the armor you’d be wearing on the day.

Armor you had no idea would be required in your wedding until Gorm explained the necessity for bodices without much flair.

“Alright, Your Highness,” Gorm smiles at you, holding the dress low and open for you to step through. “Once more, and then I think we are done.”

You let her slip the dress over you, layer after layer of smooth satin with one final crepe layer on top. The dress is eggshell white, soft, and easy on the eye.

Some white fabrics nearly burn your retinas, but this one is pleasant to look at.

It stops just around your shoulders, leaving them exposed. The neckline curves down with your bust just a little making the top look like a heart, the point of which is followed all the way down with a line of stitched white buttons.

They’re purely decorative because behind you is where Gorm stands to zip the dress closed.

She closes a small clasp and then folds out the layers of skirt around you.

It’s not as long as the blue dress you wore here today. Simpler and easier to walk in. The sleeves themselves are long, which you appreciate very much in this weather. Every bit of the dress now settles along your curves just right.

“Oh, this was the right choice, I think.” Gorm smiles wide. “You look beautiful, Your Highness. His Majesty is a very lucky man.”

You smile in return, flattered by her words for a moment because you forget that Thor has been with Jane all morning. As you remember, your smile falters then fades as the worries you had this morning come rushing back.

“You don’t like it?” Gorm asks, reaching down to stroke the long and beautiful skirt.

“Oh, no. I love the dress, Gorm. I’m just…worried about His Majesty liking it.” You smile at her, to reassure her. She’s done such amazing work. You might have her make all of your gowns from now on. Unless…?

“Gorm? Were you the one that made the dress I came in wearing today?” You wonder.

“No.” She shakes her head. “I’m afraid I did not have that pleasure.”

“How much of an imposition would it be if I made you my sole dressmaker? His Majesty has bought me some gowns to wear when appropriate, but I don’t feel like they’re my style.”

“Oh, Your Highness! It would be an honor to be your personal dressmaker!” She’s so flustered that she excuses herself and vanishes into the front of the shop to get her water.

You turn your gaze onto yourself in the mirror, all three angles looking back at you.

The dress really is unbelievably beautiful. You would never have thought that this dress and its style would have looked good on you, but it fits around your curves so seamlessly. This dress was literally made for you and it’s very noticeable.

As you turn around one final time, a small chuckle from the doorway pulls your eyes away from your reflection.

“I’m glad to see you haven’t put up such a fight over this.” Loki moves towards you, stopping a few feet away with his arms crossed over his chest.

“You should have seen me wrestle with the other two.” You sigh. “Can we go? I’m so hungry.”

Almost as if on cue, your stomach growls.

“Yes.” Loki nods. “We can go. I’ve got lunch waiting for you back in the palace.”

“Is Thor back?” You hop off the box you’d been standing on, grabbing your skirts and then dropping them to cascade around your legs like a milky waterfall.

Loki’s smile falter. “I’m afraid not. But don’t worry, he’ll be back soon, I’m sure.”

You’re so disappointed you wander away from him into the dressing room to change back into your blue dress without giving him any sort of answer.

He’s got you in the car, your forehead resting against the glass of the window, lost in thoughts of Thor and Jane when he speaks to you again.

“Might I ask you a favor, sister?” He probes gently.

Him calling you his sister makes your stomach tumble.

You have a brother! How can you ever explain this happiness?

“Sure.”

“I hope you don’t find me insolent, but-” He hesitates, thinking about the words he’s about to say hard before he meets your eyes and that seems to strengthen his resolve. “Don’t fall in love with Thor. Not yet. Don’t let him pull you in right away.”

“You think he’ll leave me for Jane?” You wait, watching as Loki thinks through your accusation.

“Not exactly, but yes. I suppose that’s a possibility I hope you can avoid.”

For a few minutes while Armod drives you back to the palace, you say nothing. You consider his request and the honest concern that he seems to have for you.

As Armod pulls into the large multi-car garage at the back of the palace, you turn to Loki and stare sadly.

“I can’t make that promise, Loki.” You shrug. “It’s already too late for that.”

“You love him?” Loki realizes.

“No!” You deny, “Not exactly. I don’t love him yet, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t very fond of him already. He-he kissed me last night.”

Loki’s brow furrows.

“A lot actually. He begged me to try and love him just as he would try to love me. I promised him I would try.” As if you’ll need to try.

You’re already hopelessly possessive over him. Maybe not him as a person, but rather those kisses he gave you. Those are your kisses now. Those thick arms he held you in, those are your arms—your hugs!

And now he might be in the United States giving those very things that are now yours alone to Jane who wouldn’t even marry him?

“It’s too late.” You reiterate, feeling absolutely lost.

“Come on, Your Highness. Let’s get you a late lunch.”

~~~~~~~~~~

If there isn’t a trail across your floor after all of the pacing you’ve done today, you’d be surprised.

“This won’t make him come back any faster.” Brunnhilde points out.

“Do I really have to model the wedding dress for him?” You ask, twisting your fingers nervously as you move up and down your room.

“I think it would be good for him.” Brunnhilde explains. “And yes. He won’t see your armor until the day of the wedding, but the dress will help make it more real for him. He needs that. So do you.”

“It’s already real for me Brunnhilde.” You lift your thumb nail to your teeth and nip, like a nervous pup, stopping at the heavy doors of the balcony.

They’ve been thrown open and the chilly air filtering in makes you shiver.

“Hilde.” Brunnhilde corrects, then moves to take a long wine-colored woolen shawl and drapes it over your shoulders as you stare out at the bustling city.

You can hear laughter, lots of merrymaking. The Asgardian people know how to enjoy their free time, but you’ve seen how hard they work too. As a whole. Loki assured you on the way home that there are just as many lazy time wasters among them as there are humans.

“Why are you fretting?” She sits at the desk, staring up at you with curious dark eyes.

“Because he’s been with Jane all day.” You lash out.

It’s not a scream, just pure exasperation. And immediately, you feel sorry.

“I’m sorry.” You sigh, dropping your hand but pulling the shawl around you tighter.

You notice it finally.

“Oh, thank you.” You really feel bad now.

“You’re acting like you’re already in love with him.” She teases, not caring one bit about your little tantrum.

Through the corners of your eyes you look at her, avoiding her piercing look.

“Y/N…?” She wonders, leaning forward to get a better look at you.

“I don’t love him, alright? I just…” You sigh. “No one’s ever kissed me before.”

Your feel your neck and ears burn, scorching with embarrassment as you admit just how much of a maiden she’d found for him.

“So, you really are a virgin?” She gasps, leaning almost her entire body along the desk to look at your face.

You frown at her. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“No.” She hakes her head. “No, not at all. You’re just so…well, you’re beautiful.”

The laugh that slips through your lips is sudden and honest.

You stare at her, shaking your head because you don’t believe her one bit.

“I’m serious!” Hilde assures you, smiling and amused by your reaction. “It’s a little bit of a shame that you haven’t been fawned on before.”

The sprinkle of sadness in her voice exposes her real meaning and it wipes away all traces of flattery.

“You mean, it’s a shame that I haven’t been with someone who will really love me because they choose to? And not like Thor because he has to?” With a bit more desperation, you look for Armod’s car, needing to see Thor.

Everything that happened last night feels like a dream. Made up in your mind to make it easier to marry Thor. Was it a dream?

You don’t remember him telling you goodnight. You have the vague memory of falling asleep with your head on his shoulder but you’re not sure how real that is with how hazy it feels.

What if his kisses had been a hopeful wish?

You bite your bottom lip, the heat and weight of his lips still fresh in your memory.

It can’t have been a dream. It felt so amazing. You could never have imagined the way it felt for him to invade you the way he did, pulling your body against his.

“He doesn’t come by car, y’know?” Hilde says, sitting back in her seat.

“What?” You turn to her, eager for explanation.

“Thor?” She gestures at the sky outside, drawing your eyes away from the city in the distance and up to the stars. “He flies here on Earth. It’s faster than flying by plane, but not by much. He’ll be going straight to his room as soon as he gets back.”

“Oh.” Your disappointment is suffocating and because you have no reason to keep freezing to death, you close the balcony doors.

With the cold shut out the heat from the hidden vents in your room saturates your shawl and envelopes you in a cocoon of heat.

“He might not want to see me tonight.” You accept, knowing that even if things went as best as they could have, Thor will still be heartbroken.

Having to give up on a relationship he had been so invested in? Even if he’s been unhappy with it lately, it must be difficult.

“No. He might not. But he has no choice. The wedding is in three days, so we have no time to wait for him to be ready to see you. We need approval on the dress.” She explains, leaving no room for argument.

Which is a shame because you would rather not see him all torn up about Jane. Not that you wouldn’t like to give him comfort. But you doubt that seeing you is something Thor would want. Not when it’s your fault that he has to break up with Jane to begin with.

“You know what? I’ll go check to see if he’s back. Gorm already sent us the dress. I’ll have Estrid help you put it on.” Hilde rises, moving out of the room without waiting for you to agree.

Five minutes later, Estrid moves into the room, her arms cradling your beautifully crafted wedding dress.

“Shall I do your hair too, Your Highness?” She asks, and lays the dress on your bed, the color such a beautiful contrast to the deep plum colored sheets.

“My hair?” You look in the mirror and the fancy thing they’d done with it this morning is falling apart. “No. I’m okay, Estrid. Thank you.”

“Very well, Your Highness.” She smiles kindly then moves towards you and takes your shawl.

You turn for her and she begins to unzip your blue dress, your mind on Thor and the mood he might be in when you see him again.

~~~~~~~~~~

The hesitation is in more than just your fist, hovering over the dark wooden of Thor’s bedroom door. It’s tall. Taller than it probably needs, sitting within a stone arch decorated with stunning golden engravings.

You’re not sure why Brunnhilde left you to do this alone. Loki is busy with something secret that he doesn’t want to share with you yet.

Not wedding related. He says it’s important and it involves you to some degree, but it’s not necessary for you to know until it’s necessary for you to know. Which is a circle-jerk kind of logic that you’re kind of annoyed by.

He’s nicer than previous opinions of him have made him seem. You suppose that has to do with the growth he’s made since he was last on Earth.

New York hadn’t been a great time for Loki, and he could only go up from there.

Brunnhilde had also neglected to tell you how Thor was feeling. Or looking? Either would have been great before you committed to coming up here on your own.

Thor’s bedroom is at the highest point of the palace. That is, highest save for the last floor which is mostly a defense tower full of weapons and a constant guard to keep Thor and his future wife safe. Which is now gonna be you.

Unless you go into his room and he tells you that he can’t stand being without Jane and rejects you and this pretty dress and you have to go back home to live just as you had before you met him. Only now with his kisses in your mind, his massive body pressed to yours, you won’t be able to get over the future you’d been promised.

How had you gone from refusing to marry him to wanting nothing more than to be his wife and even if all he was able to give you was one of those stupid kisses from last night, you’d be satisfied?

You drop your hand, almost with your mind made up to give up and just go back to your room because you don’t think you have the nerve to go through with seeing him today.

The part of you that disagrees, that remembers last night and wants more lifts your hand and knocks on his door.

In shock, you wait until his voice comes through and finally take a breath.

“Estrid? Is that you?” Thor’s voice sounds tired, not broken, but you can hear the weight in his heart by the sound of him.

You open the door and peek in, just one eye and the room is astoundingly beautiful.

If you weren’t so scared of what you’ll find in Thor, your jaw would drop ant the stunning image. To the left are two doorways, one is open, and you can see a large bathroom within. At the center of the room is what looks like a small kiddie pool, recessed into the floor, but probably deep enough for Thor to stand in?

There’s a part on this floor that’s shaped strangely from the outside and wonder if that’s what it is. The floor is dark stone tile, smooth and probably treated for waterproofing. Along the far wall of the bathroom, you can see a long wooden bench, dark oak like all of the other woods in the room from what you can see.

The toilet must be somewhere to the left where you can’t see from where you stand.

The other door is shut but since there is only an ornate set of drawers to the right of it, you assume that inside must be a large closet.

To the right of the room is a large bed. Large bed. You’ve never seen one so big.

It must be a California King? Which you’d stumbled upon in your search for mattresses when you’d first moved into your home. An accidental find and completely unnecessary.

That is, until now, when the thought of Thor laying in your very normal sized bed flits across your mind and suddenly the large King makes much more sense.

The bed is covered in soft looking gray flannel sheets. The comforter is gorgeous too, luxurious in its cotton ball soft appearance. Black with golden swirls and lines stitched across the top and bottom. The number of pillows is silly. All sizes too. Large ones at the very back and then several smaller ones until the ones at the very front are for mere decoration only.

Despite the more rustic look of the walls in the dark oak and stone base, the bed and furniture is slightly more modern in design. The headrest is cream white, ridged, and padded, as is the foot of the bed, but flatter than the headrest.

Two bedside tables hold various books on one and a lamp on the other. Behind the bed is a wall with a great big tree carved, flowing the length from top to bottom.

You swear you’ve seen that somewhere before.

The entirety of the wall opposite the doors to the room is made up of windows. Each window has been thrown open and the floor to ceiling curtains flow in the cool breeze.

They avoid the small breakfast table, laden with an untouched plate of the chicken you’d had for supper. On the other side is a large heavy looking desk. It’s sturdy. Big like Thor with papers and scrolls and folders. A laptop sits shut at the center and in the chair turned to face the left side of the room sits Thor with his shoulders hunched, elbows on his knees, hands supporting his face as he keeps it covered.

His body tells you everything you need to know about how he’s feeling and though you hate it, after so much worrying about what you’d find in here, you’re grateful to finally set eyes on him.

“It’s not Estrid.” You say gently, afraid to speak any louder and disturb him more than he already is.

His head whips towards you, faster than you expected.

Your hands go numb with nervous energy as he stares at you, his electric blue eyes scanning you very slowly from head to toe, then back up again. He takes his hand as he does so, covering his mouth with it, stroking his beard slowly as if fixing it.

Taking the opportunity, you note the plain jeans he’s wearing, the white t-shirt that stretches across his wide chest and strains to keep him covered. The hem of his sleeves struggle to keep his biceps contained. His golden hair is windswept, short as it is, it sticks in all directions.

He looks so good, so perfect, except for that sadness on his face.

You can’t bear to ask him anything about her.

“Gorm is lovely.” You tell him, forcing a smile and a quick nod.

He meets your eyes with his own, dropping the hand he’d used to shield his mouth and allows both his hands to dangle between his knees.

“She’s the best in the city.” Thor nods, devouring your dress again.

He suddenly rises and you teeter backwards with the sudden rise.

He steps towards you, his feet falling heavy on the floor.

You really like the way he struts towards you. There’s a slight sway to his hips.

Lips feeling dry and cracked, you freeze as he moves past you at the last moment.

The sound of him sitting on his bed pulls you around to look at him and he sighs, reaching his right arm up towards you.

With a swallow, you move towards him. The luscious short train of your skirt follows in your wake, flowing like water.

When you’re within reach, his places his hand on your waist, pulling you closer until you’re standing before him. He takes his other hand and places that on your waist too, making your breath shallow.

He looks up to meet your gaze.

Hands balled into fists; you wait. You’re not sure what he needs. What you need from this moment. You’re only sure that you’re glad you don’t seem to have dreamed up last night.

“You look beautiful.” He says, voice penetrating into your chest to restart your heart at double the speed.

“It’s a little simple.” You observe, remembering the other much frillier options.

“It suits you.” He lets his hand trace down along the side of your hip, stealing your breath before sliding his hand back up to your waist.

He gives you a little shake and you reach out to place your hands on his shoulders to keep from losing your already fragile balance.

“Brunnhilde told me that you were very anxious today.” He sounds worried, his brow puckered, eyes crinkled at the corners from concern.

You shrug for him, intending to play off the exact amount of worrying you’d done today because you don’t want him to know how invested you already are.

“I ended it with Jane.”

“You don’t have to-” You begin, but Thor makes a dismissive noise in his throat and cuts you off.

“I owe you an explanation.” He nods. “When I gave you that ring on your finger, I became your intended. Officially ending things with Jane was only out of respect for who we were when we were together.”

“Thor you really don’t have to tell me about your breakup with Jane. It’s private. It’s before me. Whatever happened between the two of you today is now in the past.” You sigh, trying not to think about what kisses might have been shared.

Maybe more?

You make a mental note to never hold it against him if he ever tells you that he slept with her today.

He was hers long before you agreed to marry him.

“I want to be honest with you.” He sighs. “I want us to be open with each other. I want us to talk about anything that may be troubling us.”

“We will.” You nod, giving his shoulders a small squeeze. “I promise.”

“Then tell me what you were worried about today.”

You already regret your promise.

“I thought about what you must be feeling. Wondered if you might change your mind.” Answering honestly is actually cathartic. Though you usually do it on reflex, choosing to do it feels nice.

Thor only watches you, waiting for you to get it all out, his large hands caressing the sides of your waist and making you tingle.

“Keep going.” He urges you gently.

“I’m embarrassed.” You admit, and Thor’s face relaxes a moment, the beginnings of a smile curling his lips.

He doesn’t prompt you again, just waits.

There’s a peace in this silence of his. An acceptance. A sense of time to just be.

“I was afraid that I’d imagined last night. I don’t remember falling asleep. I just woke up and it was this morning. And last night was so…” You stop, realizing that as much as you’ve thought about last night today, for Thor if there are any kisses that he wants to hold onto today, they’re probably from Jane.

This fact suddenly hardens your heart and resolve. You reach to grab his wrists to pull his hands off of you, but he doesn’t budge. You couldn’t move him if you pushed as hard as you can.

“It doesn’t matter.” You brush it off. “You probably want to just be alone and I was told that you need to approve the dress? So, tell me what you think, and I’ll get out of your hair.”

“Have I upset you?” He asks, face shifted back into that slight pout he’d been wearing before.

“N-No.” You shake your head.

“Then why do you want to leave so quickly?” He demands, voice rising in pitch at the end.

“I just…after today, I just thought that maybe you’d want some space?”

“Then you aren’t angry with me?” He checks.

“No.”

He leans forward and presses his head against your stomach, eyes shutting as his arms wrap themselves around you and pull you closer.

You don’t quite know what to do with your hands, so you stand there, holding them over his shoulders, fighting the desire to hold him back.

“I’m so tired.” He admits to you, and it settles in your heart.

You drop your arms, resting them against him before you embrace him, hands splayed along his wide back.

He exhales, relaxing against you. “Thank you.”

“For what, Thor?” You whisper, too overcome with all this hugging to speak any louder.

“For hugging me.”

Your heart breaks for him, and you hold him tighter.

“May I be honest with you about something?”

“Yes.” Here it is, the truth about Jane and him today.

“These moments with you have been the most enjoyable and special moments I’ve spent with anyone in a long time.”

Does it really matter if he slept with Jane today? Kissed her? Hugged her?

Was he this sweet with her too?

“I love you in this dress.”

You sigh, the first three words of that declaration sending your heart into a frenzy.

“You do?”

“I do.”

You smile, liking that very much.

Thor’s blue eye shifts with electricity, literally, and he pulls you down onto his lap with a demanding grip on your waist.

Your arm is still around his shoulder, the other moving down to rest over his hand which he brings around to rest on your lower belly.

“Are you happy?” He wonders, catching your fingers within his.

“Relatively.” You nod. “I’m still worried.”

Honestly, right?

“Why?” He laments, caressing your waist.

“I’m liking you more and more too quickly.” You sigh. “I don’t want to disappoint you or the people. I want to do well. Both in our marriage and with the kingdom.”

Thor caresses your side, then slides his hand down further, large hand sliding along the fabric of your dress down over your thigh.

There’s a subtle tickle between your legs. It startles you and you have to physically force yourself to relax.

“You’re already better than anyone else I might have chosen.” Thor whispers, leaning in closer until his lips are pressed to your ear.

You remind yourself that you made him promise not to do anything he doesn’t want to do. No forcing himself to be affectionate if he doesn’t feel it.

“Thor…” You gasp, just a flurry of the air left in your lungs.

“I’ve been thinking…” He admits. “Since I left you last night, about how we might be able to prepare for our wedding night.”

How do you breathe again? Where does the air go?

“Do you trust me, cherub?”

That pet name hits you just as fiercely as it did the first time and all you can do is nod.

Thor suddenly throws you back over his arm onto the bed. Landing with your head on the pillow, you gasp, chest rising and falling dramatically as you struggle to catch your breath again.

He leans down and hovers over you, waiting as you do, staring into your eyes.

“I’ll make certain you know this is not a dream.” He promises, then leans down to press his lips against yours.

You sigh, grateful for his taste as if it were a drug, removing an ache you’ve been feeling all day. Your arms come up on their own, trapping his torso down on yours as his hands trace your sides slowly.

This time you’re the one seeking more, pressing the tip of your tongue against his lips until he opens them and kisses you back.

He inhales your kiss, breathing in until you hear the vibration of a moan rip through him into you and you have never felt your body burn this way before.

You want him to make more sounds like that. Over and over if possible.

He pulls away too quickly, making you lift your head to follow him, but you fall back onto the bed, gasping for breath.

“Do you really trust me?” Thor checks again, his hands moving down along your sides until they stop at your hips, hands flexing and squeezing.

You’re shifting on his sheets, body squirming from energy you don’t recognize.

You know that he probably needs to be close to someone like this after today. After whatever he lost with Jane, even if he won’t let you see just how much it really hurt him, he probably needs this closeness.

“Yes.” You breathe.

With one hand he reaches down, staring into your eyes as he does. He finds the bottom hem of your dress and flips his hand underneath, then takes hold of your ankle.

He turns to face your feet, sliding down to the end of the bed then removes the flats you’d switched into, along with the thick socks you’d found to fight the cold.

It’s so chilly in here you shiver.

“You won’t be cold for long, cherub.” He promises.

After dropping your shoes on the floor, he rises then crawls onto the bed to where your feet are, grabbing hold of your ankles to pull your legs open a little.

“Easy.” He tells you gently. “You’ll still be a maid on our wedding night. This will be just a taste.”

He flips your skirt over his head, disappearing from view.

You push yourself up onto your elbows, curious and just as nervous until you feel the pressure of something wet slide up along your slit and you throw your head back, an uncontrollable moan ripping through your lips.

You hadn’t realized the taste would be for him.

#king!thor x reader #thor x reader #arranged marriage au #royal au #marvel fanfiction #king!thor x reader fic #king!thor x reader fanfic #king!thor x reader fanfiction #thor x reader fic #thor x reader fanfic #thor x reader fanfiction #thor x you #king!thor x you #a wife for thor #a wife for thor pt05

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retelling-of-ragnarok · 3 years ago

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『 while i’m not completely done organising, this idea will not leave my head. and ik you’re still on hiatus, so feel free to respond to this when you feel like, ava!! and i apologise for the sudden tag. T~T 』

@fruit-of-infidelity

“Mr Viazzani! It’s been a while since we’ve had the privilege of seeing you. What brings you here, instead of us bringing the work to you?”

[The voice of an older butler reached Gwen’s ears, and they smiled. They were here to do some paperwork— and now that they no longer live in the Demon Realm, they have to do their work here. In Richter’s castle. They didn’t mind of course, especially since he wasn’t actually there at the moment, but making the long trip here was a bit exhausting. Especially for how quickly they worked. They missed having Richter’s familiars deliver the work to them.]

[Putting on a smile, their hands were shoved into their pockets, the flowing parts of their coat swaying as they moved.]

“Of course~ But alas, I no longer live in Makai, and your restrictions don’t allow for you to bring my work to me anymore. No matter! I’d been dying to see how the old man’s home looks, it’s certainly more decorated than I expected~”

[They weren’t lying. They hadn’t expected Richter’s home to be so… Decorated? Lively?]

[Right at the front of the home, the first thing that was seen, was a painting of Richter and… His wife? Gwen could recall Richter talking about a woman, but it seemed personal, so they tuned it out. It’s not like they particularly needed that information, so they never asked him to elaborate. Was he married? Was she his lover? Either way, they worked well together. Their colour palettes blended together beautifully, whoever the artist was for this piece knew what they were doing. Gwen admired that.]

[The servant led Gwen through the home, the boy’s arms swinging and swaying as they walked, their coat swaying along with them. They looked like a puppet, with how unsettlingly graceful their walk was. Smooth, almost floating. Like a puppet on strings. Though, when they finally reached the office, and took a look inside, their teeth grit. Stacks upon stacks of paperwork… That they had to do. Of course Richter would wait until now to do all of this— Of course the man would wait until now to call them here. If he had just called them here a few days sooner, this would have been so much easier.]

“Old bastard…”

“Ahem-“

[Oh. Right. The man was a servant. Of course he would chastise Gwen for speaking ill of his Master. But how could they not? It was just plain rude for Richter’s to expect all this done by the time he gets home. It wasn’t that Gwen couldn’t do it, it’s just that maybe they wanted to have an off day.]

“Apologies. I’ll get to work immediately.”

“Very well, then. I’ll bring you some tea— I remember just how you like it.”

[Gwen chuckled at the comment. The butler was rousing memories from them with that last bit. What a day it was.]

“Of course you would remember~ I nearly killed you the first time you served me tea. I’m glad you remembered what I taught you. Please be quick about it, though— I’m sure I’m going to need it.”

[And off they went. Sitting in Richter’s rather comfortable chair, and getting to work. Organising, annotating, signing, and setting aside paperwork. Some of it was for Richter to fill out himself, but others were for the both of them. Not that Gwen really cared, they spent more personal time with the nobles than Richter did, all he had to provide was a signature, while Gwen did the actual work.]

—

[They finished after a few hours, their wrist thoroughly spent. They would make sure to give the man an earful the next time they see him.]

“Stupid old man… No wonder you have wrinkles, taking on workloads like this.”

[They muttered to themselves. Pushing themselves back and out of the chair, they made their way out of the man’s office. They still had some time before he returned, so why not explore for a bit?]

[Gwen had intended on starting downstairs and working their way up, just to be nosy— but then they smelled paint. Freshly used paint, at that. So, they made their way towards the smell. What they came upon was a studio, with the door just barely open. Concealing their presence— their smell, blood flow, and breathing, they silently opened the door more. Thankfully it didn’t creak.]

[What they found was someone, insanely immersed in a painting. They’d taken a break, likely to look it over. Green hair… Green hair? Richter? No, this person was younger… And his posture wasn’t nearly as hunched. Ah, it couldn’t have been Richter, anyhow, this one has purple at the ends of his hair. Gwen could say he looked pretty like this, from the back at least— but they’d always loved watching people in their craft. Was this Richter’s son…? They’d assumed he was lying about having one, given the circumstances. And Gwen never bothered to question him more, so seeing the boy here in the flesh was intriguing. They watched him for a few moments. Then moments turned into seconds… Ten, then twenty… then before they knew it a couple minutes had passed.]

[Leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed in a playful manner, they let a signature smirk fall onto their face. A playful look found itself in their eyes, and they finally spoke again, just before the man’s paintbrush hit the canvas.]

“So you actually exist, hm? I always thought your Father was lying when he said he had a child.”

#long post #rp interaction #fruit-of-infidelity #ryuuto sakamaki #sakamaki ryuuto #gwen exicor

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papergirllife · 4 years ago

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Being the right hand women of the most evil man isn’t the normal lifestyle you think you’d had when you were going over career choices, working for Seoul’s very own joker sounds horrifying to others, but not when you had him wrapped around your fingers.

warnings : gruesome scenes (only the beginning), bloodshed (only the beginning), unprotected sex, slight knife play.

You stood on your ground as guns rang out from all directions, this was a norm for you, flirting with death like it bought no consequences as a bullet barely grazes you when you ducked behind some container, but alas, this was the road that was given to you, no point fighting it, in fact you’ve learned to embrace it, turning yourself into the cold blooded killer you are today.

You looked into the sight scope of your gun, you only had 16 bullets left, but there were around 20 people, you knew you should’ve bought more, guess this would have to do. You took aim at a person’s head, hitting him squarely between the eyes, the gun vibrating against your arm as the gunshot was drowned out by the shouting and maybe a grenade or two. Once you were sure he was down, you opened fire again and again, not giving the enemy a chance of spotting your whereabouts, the warehouse was large, but not enough to make you seem miniscule in the midst of an open fire. You smile at their blur expressions before having a bullet struck onto their head, however, once you ran out of bullets, one of the men ran over to you, his expression livid.

You dropped your gun and took out your hunting knife, the man charged at you, his hand gun aiming at you, like he couldn’t decide on how to finish you off.

“You killed my brother!”

You threw the knife at his armed hand, the gun dropped out his grasp. You withdrew the knife from his wounded arm and proceeded to cut his wrists, legs, and thighs with it, cutting off his arteries, his blood splattering on your clothes as he falls onto his knees, eyes wide with fear.

“Time to join your brother, asshole,” you said before giving his neck a twist, killing him.

You looked around to see that your men have most of the people either killed or tied, but once you let out the breath you were holding in, you spotted a man with a knife charging at someone, your boss, Mr Raion.

You quickly dashed onto the ground to retrieve the hand gun, shooting at that lunatic, Mr Raion made a hum of approval, followed by a tsk at the man that cowered in front of him.

“Well done, Y/N,” Mr Raion said before turning to the man on the ground, slitting his throat for all to see.

“Now, time to answer my questions people, now Harley, would you do the honours?”

His Harley, just like the comics, Mr Raion had a Harley. His Harley kills, tortures, and taunts for him. Prancing around like a mad woman as she stuck numerous weapons at places that you wouldn’t want to know as Mr Raion asked questions. You retrieved your gun to clean it, weapons hold sentimental value to you, as it is something you used to attack as well as defend, one of your men handing you a cloth.

“It’s going to take a long time isn’t it, miss?” he asked in an exasperated tone, tired from tonight’s mission.

“I’ll give you 10k if you dare to tell her to stop shrieking like a mad woman,” you said without looking up, knowing that no one would want to interfere her at a moment like this.

“No thank you, miss, being in your team instead of hers is already a blessing,” your right hand man said as he stole a glance at Harley’s men, all wearing weird bunny costumes over their protective gear.

You guys were in for a long night.

Mr Raion, in Japanese, it meant Lion. He truly is the king of Seoul’s underground society, he has cops from little pawns, to big players in the defence ministry, all in his little pocket, making him invincible against the law. Harley, his little toy, is in fact just a toy. They aren’t in love, all of it is just for showbiz, or maybe most of it. You could feel your gaze hardened at the sight of Harley giving Mr Raion a lap dance for all to see midway through her torture session, like a death sentence isn’t painful enough that she has to make it worse by twerking in front of those men before their death, you couldn’t tell what Mr Raion was thinking, since he always had the mask on.

The lot of you were done with the mission in the warehouse, and as celebration, Mr Raion would treat everyone a night of joy by partying, their typical ritual.

At the club that you specifically asked to clear out before anymore unwanted deaths occur, you gripped your glass of wine hard, before downing the rest of its contents, your hard gaze training on Harley’s hands wandering around Mr Raion’s exposed chest, the top buttons off.

“Harley, Harley, Harley. It’s always her isn’t she? I heard you saved his life tonight, yet you don’t get anything in return,” it was the club owner you’ve known ever since you worked for Mr Raion, Johnny Suh.

“You know I don’t do glitz and glamour, Johnny, nor any public shows, I value my reputation as a woman,” you said before downing the glass.

“Don’t let him hear that, Y/N,” Johnny said in a lowered tone, valuing his life.

“Thanks for letting us trash the place, I’ll be heading out,” you said as you threw a few notes down as tip.

“So early?” Johnny questioned in a shocked tone.

“Yeah, had a long day,” you said before heading out the club, the feeling of someone’s eyes on your back.

You washed up and got into bed, staring at Seoul’s beautiful skyline, but your mind wanders to the ugliest parts of Seoul, and how you were apart of it. Things always looked prettier from afar, don’t they? You let out a sigh of defeat before crawling into bed, the silk sheets smooth against your skin.

When you were about to drift off to sleep, you felt a pair of arms around your waist as kisses were peppered on your neck, the drowsiness fading away from the touch.

“Why did you leave so early? You look so beautiful today. I wanted to stare at you more,” the man said in a husky tone.

“Fuck off, Yuta. Go look for your Harley.”

Yuta climbed on top of you, caging you in his arms, his head laid on your shoulder, his gentle breathing sending shivers down your spine.

“You know we’re nothing. I wouldn’t have her around if it isn’t to protect you.”

That was true, Yuta only hired Harley to mask your presence, just like the mask on his face. To other people in the underground society, you were just one of Yuta’s men, and nothing more. That was how it was initially, until the two of you fell in love when the two of you were accidentally trapped in the hide out by one of the rookies, but that didn’t matter now, as your emotions swirled and bubbled under your skin dangerously.

“Go, go get that lap dance that you were enjoying so much.”

Yuta’s gaze hardened under your obvious jealousy, it wasn’t the first time he dealt with this type of out burst from you, and it wouldn’t be the last either, just look into your closet and you’ll be able to see mountains of jewelleries and handbags, most of them are tokens of apology from Yuta.

“What about you and Johnny, huh? Do I need to kill him? Or ask you to kill him? To Prove me your loyalty.”

Yuta was looking at you straight in the eye, both of you having the death glare at each other.

“All these years being beside you is enough proof,” you said before reaching under your pillow, drawing out a knife, pointing it right at Yuta’s throat. “I could kill Seoul’s biggest criminal right now if I wanted to. Don’t test me, Yuta.”

Yuta looked into your eyes as he lowered your hand from his throat, his eyes switched from hard to soft within seconds, he could feel this wasn’t light banter anymore, you were truly angry today, and he knew how dangerous you could get if he was to burst your temper.

“I’m sorry, tonight was indeed a bit overboard, I’ll have a talk with her tomorrow,” Yuta said as he took the knife out of your hands, placing it on your nightstand, his other hand pushing back stray hairs on your face, his touch gentle.

“Let me make it up to you, my queen.”

Yuta kissed you deeply, his tongue sinking into your wet cavern once you allowed him access as his hands wander down south, taking your nipples into his lithe fingers, pinching and twisting, your back bending upwards into his will. You bit onto his bottom lip hard, drawing out a groan from the handsome man above you, breaking off the kiss.

“You know I love it when you do that,” Yuta said breathlessly before he took the knife from the nightstand, slicing your nightgown from collar to the hem, the blade touching your skin gently.

“So beautiful, my love.”

You reached up to take off Yuta’s clothes, his perfectly sculptured body coming into view, the feeling of moisture in between your legs making you greedy for more. Once his pants and boxers were off, you reached up and took his length inside your mouth, clouding Yuta’s head with pleasurable ecstasy, but he gently pulled your head away from him.

“No, Y/N, tonight’s all about you. I’ll let you take me another time, okay?”

You nodded, lying back down on your bed with hooded eyes, those dangerous eyes that send blood down Yuta’s length. Yuta spread open your legs, and placed his mouth at your lower lips, licking at your slit, tasting your sweet nectar on his tongue.

“You taste so sweet, love,” Yuta said as he scissors you open with two fingers, his fingers sucked in by your welcoming walls, he could feel himself getting harder as he imagined how nice his cock would feel in your warm wet walls. Yuta held your entrance open with two fingers as his tongue ventured into you, the difference in texture and temperature making you whimper, it’s been so long since he last touched you this way.

Yuta ate you out with much fevour, his nose bumping your clit as he ate you out like a starved man, fingers mixing into the play, making your hands curl around his beautiful locks of hair, egging him to go harder and faster. Yuta took this as a good sign, increasing the pace of his fingers and tongue, tightening the knot in your stomach, once he sensed how close you were, Yuta opened his mouth wider, gently biting onto your clit, unravelling the knot in your stomach.

You could only scream when your high hit you so suddenly, Yuta’s name flowing out off your lips like a beautiful mantra, a melody Yuta would never get bored of. Yuta continued his ministrations to help you ride out your high as well as cleaning up your juices, licking at your pussy as his eyes fixed on your beautiful fucked out face, proud of his achievement.

“Can you take more? Or do you want to rest?” Yuta asked you as he kissed your forehead.

“I want more,” you said you pulled Yuta by his arms, drawing him close to you as you craved for his warmth.

Yuta gave his cock a few pumps before rubbing its head at your slit, coating his dick in your juices before pushing in completely, fitting inside you like a glove.

“Fuck, how are you always so tight.”

“Maybe it’s because you don’t touch me enough,” you answered breathlessly just to spike him. Yuta let out a laugh at your snark remark, “ You asked for it, baby. Don’t hold back on your words when I do just as you say.”

Yuta lifted up your legs and curled them around his waist before pulling out almost completely just to snap back his hips against yours, your back arching at the immense pleasure that coursed through your veins, your nails scratching down Yuta’s arms as he keeps up with the hard and fast pace, his face contorted in a mix of focus and pleasure as he chases for both your highs.

Every thrust of his hips sends you further over the edge as his length hits your sweet spot. Yuta is so familiar with your body that he quickly finds your sweet spot every time he touches you, bringing you your pleasurable downfall quickly. Yuta takes a nipple into his mouth as he pushes into you deeper, making you take him whole, before resuming to his quick shallow thrusts, both paces making you head spin and walls tighten around him as your orgasm grows nearer.

“Yuta, please, more,” you said in the heat of the moment, impatient for your high as you pushed your hips back onto his, developing a pace to match his, the sudden movement making Yuta clench his teeth in pleasure, his neck thrown back as the pleasure washes over him, making him more desperate for release. Yuta picks your legs up to thrusts into you at a higher angle that allows him to go even faster. Sounds of skin slapping skin filling your whole room as well as the loud bangs of your bed frame against the wall, if the whole penthouse wasn’t yours, you’d be receiving complaints by now.

“Cum for me, Y/N. I want to cum inside of you,” Yuta said as he reached a hand down to rub circles on your clit, sending you over the edge. The way your walls were clenching down on Yuta’s length as well as the sting he felt from your nails on his arms brought Yuta his sweet release with a cry of your name, the pace of his hips slowing down to ride out both of your highs.

You cooed at the feeling of his warm spurts of cum painting your walls, his length going limp inside of you. Yuta collapses beside you with him still being inside you as he pulls you closer into his embrace, fatigue settling into both your bodies.

“I love you, Y/N. And it’ll always only be you,” Yuta said breathlessly as he laid on your breasts, the feeling of your soft mounds so addictive on his cheeks.

“Mhm, I love you too, Yuta,” you said before drifting off to sleep, barely registering the movements on your bed when Yuta pulled you into his arms, a feather light kiss on your temple.

#nct smut #yuta smut #nakamoto yuta #nct 127 #nct #nct fluff

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aceofspadegrass · 3 years ago

Text

Now It's an Entire Swap

Characters: Niragi Suguru, Chishiya Shuntaro, Kuina Hikari, Mira Kano (Briefly), Hatter, Morizono Aguni

Genre: Crack. Somehow even worse (better?) than the last one. They're really going for it now.

1.4k words

AKA Part 2 of Hair Day. It's just gotten way more weirder than ever, and it was just on my mind the entire time. Just.... ' How far would these two get?'

Well apparently it meant stealing each other's clothes and being them for a day. There were probably a whole lot more interactions I could have done for the day, but alas.

Niragi watches as Chishiya approaches him, carrying a bag in his left hand. Since two days ago, Niragi’s been keeping an eye on the man as Chishiya went around with his old hairstyle, his own still delightfully bleached blond and kept in the same style as Chishiya’s usual hair. People still did double takes upon seeing him, and maybe it held true for Chishiya as well, but Niragi didn’t care what anyone thought of the sudden change. All he cared about was making sure Chishiya didn’t go ahead and re-dye his hair so soon, keeping a careful eye on him.

Sure, it was a little stalkerish, but it was for a good reason.

Chishiya dumps the bag at Niragi’s feet, Niragi looking down to look at the small opening the bag allowed. “ What’s this?”

“ Well if you’re going to steal my hair, I might as well steal your life for a day.” Chishiya briefly explains, and he walks away without any further explanation, Niragi raising an eyebrow. He kneels down and opens the opaque bag some more, his lips curling at the white mass chilling inside.

“ Is this a joke…?” Niragi reaches in and pulls out the outfit, recognizing it as Chishiya’s favourite jacket, or at the very least copy of it, as well as swimming shorts that matched Chishiya’s. Niragi looks back towards where Chishiya had disappeared towards, and scoffs. “ So be it then.”

He puts the clothes back inside the bag and stands up, taking it and heading back up to his room. He starts stripping once he gets inside, unbuttoning his shirt and tossing it aside. Next came his shoes and pants, and he pulls out the two articles of clothing back out of the bag. There were sandals included inside, Niragi leaving those for last as he slips on the shorts. They were somehow a perfect fit on him, not at all as small as Niragi was expecting them to be. “ So the mayo man got me accurately fitting clothing, hm?” Niragi pulls on the jacket and quickly retracts his earlier statement, staring at his exposed wrist. Curse him for not bothering to get a proper jacket for him.

Still, Niragi wasn’t about to back down from the supposed life swap challenge, slipping on the other sleeve and zipping it up. It definitely was just some spare jacket, the bottom barely meeting with the shorts with his arms extending outwards. Niragi drops his arms and tugs the jacket down as far as he could before moving to the sandals and sliding them on. They were also about the correct size, if not just slightly smaller but still manageable. Humming, Niragi walks around to make sure, catching sight of his rifle.

“ Well…. as much as I’d like to….” Niragi sighs, and tucks the thing into his bed. “ If Chishiya wants whatever this weird role-play shit, then he’s gonna get it.”

Niragi spots Chishiya by the militants a few minutes later, a few loudly questioning and gesturing to Chishiya. Or, from the back, a much smaller him. Niragi couldn’t help but snort at the obvious sheer size of his shirt on Chishiya’s much smaller frame, or the fact that Chishiya was toting around a massive super soaker instead of the real deal, as if he was still semi-aware that he could be killed despite taking on Niragi’s aesthetics.

Niragi didn’t think this was much of a punishment for his hair thievery in the slightest, sauntering away. Just his face still kept people from coming too close, and the talk about him was near pleasurable for him. His reputation continues to precede him at least.

“ Hey! You, slow down, geez-“ A female voice catches Niragi’s attention, and he turns his head to see that lady Chishiya was occasionally by every so often, although Niragi didn’t bother with her too much, down to her name. She catches up to him, her eyes quickly scanning him before she lets out a sigh. “ I really can’t believe you agreed.”

“ Yeah? What’s it to you, huh?”

The lady folds her arms, letting out a sigh and chews on the stick hanging out of her mouth for a bit. Niragi was about to turn and leave her there when her hand reaches out and grabs him by the shoulder, Niragi whipping around and slapping the hand off. She recoils, but otherwise was unperturbed, looking at him with a hint of displeasure. “ Okay listen. Chishiya told me that since you stole his hair he was going to….. apparently take over a day of just being you, saying that…” She pauses. “ Well, that’s not important right now. What is important is to ’sell’ this, is that I have to follow you.”

Niragi blinks, raising his eyebrow and unconsciously flicking his tongue across his lips, leaning onto one leg. “ Why, does the toilet bowl not trust me?”

“ I wouldn’t trust you with a barrel of green tea left in your care, so you can figure out what Chishiya’s opinion is. Look, we can do this peacefully, no violence required, okay?” She extends a hand as if it were a peace offering, Niragi staring down at the hand.

“ Yeah, uh….. no. I do what I want, cinnamon stick.” He turns and walks away, said cinnamon stick’s footsteps coming up behind him.

“ Rude, but I really can’t expect anything else from you, wig snatcher.”

Niragi ignores her, although he didn’t bother to push her away today either. She was at least mindful of their positions, and kept her distance as she should.

It wasn’t long until she invited him to at least watch a movie with her, Niragi agreeing since he was technically absolved from doing his patrols for the day.

( Niragi wasn’t allowed to in any way touch her, and the one time he tried he got his toes crushed by her foot, so he had to behave the rest of the movie. Not worth it, in his opinion.)

Even at the meeting nobody really mentioned the sudden switch, although Niragi swore he thought he saw Mira’s smile become a little wider, and her eyes glitter in interest at the two. Hatter had to do a double take at the two, before sidetracking into what they were up to this time. Chishiya, surprisingly enough, just sticks his tongue out at Hatter like Niragi would’ve done, and Niragi had to suppress a laugh when he caught a glimpse of a stain on Chishiya’s tongue.

“ Oh my fucking goodness, did you seriously eat a fruit roll-up with those tongue tattoos before this?!” Niragi howls, bursting into uncontrolled laughter. Chishiya slips his tongue back in and just smirks. Aguni shakes his head slowly, pinching the bridge of his nose, Hatter just watching and waiting with amusement.

It takes a while before Niragi finally reins in his laugh, and that was only because one of Hatter’s pretty boy kimono men handed him water to calm the fuck down. Hatter grins, clapping his hands together.

“ Well, either way, this is an absolute rollercoaster that we’re all seeing today, aren’t we. One day I’m greeted with a hair swap, and the next you two are becoming each other! Aren’t you just… two peas in a pod?”

“ Tch, no. I’d rather burn.”

Chishiya glances at Niragi for a second, his lips curling ever so slightly in disgust. “ Not to be rude, but I decline that as well. I’d rather be shot instead. This is merely payback.”

“… How though.” Aguni questions. Chishiya turns his attention to the man, and leans back casually.

“ Because it leaves him practically defenceless in order to be me. Me, on the other hand….” Chishiya gestures to the super soaker lain on the table. “ Have temporary access. Even if this is merely a substitute.”

“ I will strangle you in your sleep anyways, you naked chicken nugget.”

Chishiya doesn’t react to the threat, Niragi glaring at him. Hatter looks between the two of them, then smacks his hand against the table a few times to get the meeting back to focus on him.

“ Like I said last time, grab a martini or something you two. Now, as much as I love a good drama and an enemies to lovers trope, we have to get back to real matters-“

Niragi huffs, leaning back slightly as Hatter starts his usual spiel. His glances couldn’t help but look towards Chishiya every so often, just glaring him down. Occasionally he’d lock eyes with him, Niragi smirking and miming random ways that Niragi could murder him with his bare hands.

If anyone else was watching their little act, they certainly didn’t bring it up. At the very least it kept Niragi occupied long enough.

The moment it was done, Hatter simply watches the two leave the meeting with a little more haste than he’s ever seen, and he leans towards Aguni. “ Think they’re gonna fuck it out with a nice martini?”

“…. Beats me.”

#aib #alice in borderland #aib fanfic #alice in borderland fanfic #niragi suguru #chishiya shuntaro #kuina hikari #hatter #takeru danma #mira kano #morizono aguni #sorry kuina you don't even get a name in this #that last interaction sentence is ness' fault you got me thinking about them doing the do #yes somehow hair swap evolved into a whole outfit swap it's just how it progressed #everyone just has to roll with whatever bullshit happens there every day this is tame really-#yes they specifically are wearing each others tops the other pieces are sized up correctly to a point but the shirt and jacket? Swapped.#yes chishiya ate one of those candies that stained his tongue just to mock niragi's tongue piercing #he also stuck rhinestones on his face I just don't mention them

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