#party with me. it's dead' thing and they generally let him be a bit more swoony for the teenagers watching | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

yagirlwrites · 3 months ago

Text

Make Me Proud | (Sub!Rafe)

Pairing: sub!Rafe x domme!Reader

Synopsys: Rafe and Reader finally get to release their pent up tension from the Halloween party. He wants to earn his prize so they explore a new way of pleasure together.

Warnings: SMUT (18+), anal play (m receiving), oral (f receiving), fluff

Word Count: 6.4k

A/N: Hii!!! I know it took me a while but it's finally finished! I hope you enjoy this smutty goodnes and that it was worth the wait! Let me know what you think! I'm excited for them exploring more ways to give/receive pleasure!

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My work is my own; it's not to be copied, transferred or translated. Reblogs, comments, feedback are always welcome and appreciated❤️

Happy reading🥰

Make Me Proud

The harsh rays of sun pricked at his eyelids forcing him to awaken against his will, letting out a pained groan. Blinking his eyes open he slowly begun to gather his bearings and the first thing he noticed was the emptiness of the bed next to him.

There was a low pang in his chest at her absence. The second thing he noticed was the pounding in his head, no doubt attributed to the hangover bound to ruin his day. He made such a huge mistake downing all those shots last night. As the memories started flooding back he became aware of just how much of a fool he'd made of himself. In front of her, to make shit ten times worse. Just as he was beginning to wonder if his behavior caused her to leave, the door slowly opened and he watched her tiptoe inside, unaware of his inner turmoil.

Once her eyes landed on his sprawled out figure she realized he was finally awake. Had she been up for several hours, bored out of her mind but not wanting to wake him? Maybe. Did she sneak into the kitchen to make them both a cup of coffee when she finally got sick of laying motionless next to him? Perhaps.

"Morning, sunshine." She smirked at his response, an unamused grunt. He was definitely feeling the aftermath of those drinks. She felt kinda bad for him but it was his own fault he was in this state.

"What time is it?" His morning voice always got her tummy fluttering and today was no different. The ways in which this man drove her insane were unfathomable to her.

"Nine. I thought you'd sleep longer. The house is still dead." She made her way back to bed, giving him a generous view of her bare thighs as she shuffled in next to him. He barely noticed the coffee cup right in front of his face, too distracted by how soft and sexy her legs looked and how she still smelled so damn good even after a long night.

"Rafe..." her voice sounded half amused half exasperated, causing him to finally snap his attention back to her face and see the amused expression she bore. He blushed at being caught so blatantly ogling her, but he didn't try to play it off. There was no need to anyway, she knew just how attracted he was to her.

He took the cup with a small thank you, forcing himself into a somewhat upright position and downing half of it in one go. She scoffed out a laugh and rolled over to the bedside table to grab him a bottle of water she put there last night. Once she turned back she caught him staring at her ass, which had peeked out from under his shirt she was wearing. Raising her eyebrow at catching him, again, in under 2 minutes, he paid her back with a sheepish smile.

Those damn dimples always got to her. She was a sucker like that. He didn't need to know how quickly she got weak for him though, so she bit back her smile and decided to keep on a face of neutrality, knowing it drove him crazy when he couldn't tell what mood she was in.

"Are you hungry?" She casually posed the question while scrolling on her phone and he wished she'd just look at him instead. Pathetic. But hey, he was accepting it. She drove him insane every single day and he liked it.

"A little... The burger helped, though. Thanks." He gave her a cute smile almost causing her to break her act, but she perservered. He was just too fun to mess with, she couldn't help herself.

"You're welcome." She went back to her phone and he pouted. The throbbing in his head was making him more impatient than usual so he snapped and forced her into a bear hug, almost knocking the wind out of her.

"Rafe!" He laughed into her skin, enjoying the sound of her carefree giggle more than he thought possible.

"Get off!" Her words had no real bite to them, so he just pulled away slightly, just to look at her face.

"Thank you for taking care of me. And I'm sorry for getting drunk." He kissed her sweetly, almost making her lose her head completely. These moments of gentle affection always had both of their heads spiraling.

"You're lucky you're cute.." she sighed out a labourious breath and he laughed at the dramatics.

"I'm very lucky." He was looking at her with the most lovesick expression, she couldn't handle it. She had to break the moment before it broke her.

"Indeed. And quite desperate, based on all the begging you were doing last night." She was kinda mean for bringing that up. He was confused for all of 5 seconds before he realized what begging she was referring to. Once he did, his skin turned bright pink and the temperature of his body rose.

He had begged her to let him go down on her like a little bitch. Dear God, the embarrassment was about to eat him up, the blush not letting up for a moment.

She cracked a smile then, breaking the stoic act and he felt an immediate relief at that. He remembered what she'd told him - that he didn't need to be embarrassed about his desires. So he swallowed down his pride and awkwardness and decided to end this little game of hers. Instead of becoming sheepish he got serious.

"You still haven't told me how I can earn it." His words shook her. She was enjoying teasing him and then he flipped the switch. She could see the smirk begging to be let out at the corner of his lips, his eyes hungry and not hiding his arousal at all. She had a feeling that if she took the covers off he'd be packing a hard-on again. He was playing with fire.

"You really want to earn it?" Her eyes shifted and her domme voice returned. His skin was buzzing with excitement, hoping to finally get something out of her.

"Yes, ma'am." He smiled and she could feel her composure slipping away.

"Just wanna make you feel good." His voice dropped an octave and she could feel the dampness in her panties, the temperature in the room heating up.

"I feel good when I make you feel good, baby." Teasing, teasing, teasing. He knew she was playing him again. He swallowed, mouth feeling dry at the way she was looking at him.

"I want to taste you so bad." There it was. The honest response. She didn't want him pretending he was only interested in it for her benefit and now he was finally being truthful.

"Yeah?" She got on top of him, lips inches apart. His breath becoming her own as she stared deep into his eyes, testing his limits.

"Yes....please..." she kissed him then. A kiss so heated it could probably warm up an entire room. Little whines left his throat as she bit down on his lip, feeling his erection pressing into her ass. He was so gone.

"Please." It was a whisper, she barely heard it but she had. And boy did it have her losing her damn mind. The desperation he exhibited for her drove her wild. She had to pull away in order for both of them to catch their breaths again. God, was he testing her.

"I love the way you beg, baby." She whispered into his ear, leaving soft, wet kisses on his neck, causing him to groan... it was such a delicious torture.

"Fuck..." his whines got louder when she bit into that spot where his neck and shoulder meet, eyes rolling back. She was everything.

She had a whole scene in her mind then, clear as day. Trying to think of all the logistics was proving difficult when she was so damn turned on, causing her to pull away. He whined at the loss of contact, nearly shedding a tear. She'd built him up so high he didn't think he could survive her rejection now.

She took the water bottle and took a huge gulp, his lust filled eyes tracing her features, trying to figure out how to stop her from pulling away from him further. He thought he'd definitely cry if she did, too turned on to function. She tried getting up off of him, causing him to whine and wrap his hands around her, refusing to let her go. She nearly laughed seeing the desperation on his face, the sheer need to keep her there.

"Baby. Let go." He reluctantly loosened his grip, looking at her with big, sad eyes nearly breaking her heart.

"It's okay, sweet boy." She kissed his cheek and then shocked him by squirting water on his face. He gasped, looking at her in bewilderment. She couldn't help but laugh then.

"What..?" The confusion on his face made her laugh harder. She needed to cool them both down and this was the first thing she could think of. She can't have this conversation if she isn't thinking clearly.

"I'm sorry, I just needed you to snap out of it. Sorry, baby." She wiped the remaining water off his face. She kissed him again and pushed herself further away from him, so she can think.

"What the hell?" He was mumbling, still half in shock making her feel a bit guilty.

"Look if you're serious then we need to talk. I can't think when we're..." she drifted off then, causing him to realize what happened. She was having trouble controlling herself just as he was, so she did a silly thing to help herself think. He felt endeared, realizing that the moment had affected her just as strongly as it did him.

"Okay. Talk." He was nodding, sitting up, facing her, trying to ignore the painful boner she left him with.

"You want to be a good boy?" How was he supposed to stay calm when she says shit like that to him? Damn.

"Yes." He struggled to stay still, not to draw nearer, to feel her skin against him again. It was so hard.

"Remember when you said you were open to anal play?" Her words shook him to his core. She could see the shock in his eyes before he had a chance to mask it.

"Ye-yeah. I remember..." he wasn't sure where this was going anymore.

"Are you still? Or did you just say that cause you thought it's what I wanted to hear?" He was shaking his head before she even finished the question.

"No. I- I meant it. I want to try." She smiled at him then, a soft look on her face the polar opposite of how she looked just minutes ago.

"Yeah?" He nodded, urging her to believe him. He had no idea what she was planning but he wanted nothing more than to do whatever she wanted. Even if he was nervous.

"I want to be your good boy." His words nearly had her eyes roll back but she managed to control herself. He was so fucking hot when he gave himself to her completely.

"Okay. Well, we need to prepare, we can't do it now-"

"Why not?" The whine was louder and brattier than he intended causing her to cock a brow at him.

"Well for one I don't have lube here, and-"

"I do!" This took her by surprise. But he interrupted her twice now and that was not acceptable.

"Okay, that's good. But if you interrupt me one more time we're not having any sex at all in the forseeable future." Her voice was authoritative, making him feel embarrassed at how childish he was acting.

"I'm sorry." He looked it too, so she accepted it with a nod.

"Okay. Well, we still can't do it here. I'd like us to shower first and have privacy." She was listing things, looking so cute while she rationalized their sex life. It would have been comical if it weren't driving him insane.

He knew she didn't want to shower in his house, having offered her the option before and being met with a horrified look and a respectful decline. She claimed she liked his friends but she didn't trust their hygiene in the slightest, causing him to laugh and agree with her. He loved her shower though. He got to use her pretty smelling shampoo and he always felt extra clean and sated after showering at her apartment.

"Then lets go to your place." It was a no brainer to him. She thought of all the possible issues but given that her plans for his first time trying anal play were small, she figured it would be fine without all the usual prep. They'd build up to that eventually.

"Okay." He lit up like a christmas tree.

"Really?" She chuckled at his newfound enthusiasm.

"Yes, really. But if you change your mind at any point you need to tell me, okay?" He was nodding along quickly but she didn't forget the initial apprehension on his face and she'd be damned if she let him do something he isn't into to try and please her. Not on her watch.

They got dressed and packed up their stuff pretty quickly, the excitement in the air palpable. Some people finally started to wake up just as they were leaving the house, catching a few "screw you's" for running off before the clean up from last night began. They didn't care, too wrapped up in each other and the anticipation of what's to come to be bothered.

----------------------------

They picked up some sandwiches on the way back to her apartment, at her insistence. He was way too excited for what she had planned to think about food, but his stomach thanked her all the same when his hunger was sated.

They didn't waste any time taking their clothes off and getting in the shower. It was such a wonderful moment between them, soft and loving, he way they washed each other from all the sweat and grime from the night before. She handled him more delicately than anyone ever had in his life, and he always felt so damn safe and taken care of when she touched him like that. As the shower drew to an end, they shared some lingering, warm kisses, igniting the fire from earlier all over again in a slow burning flame.

Anticipation was killing him, driving him wild with every second that passed of them drying off and getting ready in her room. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't nervous, but it was nothing compared to how excited he felt. The trust he had in her was so complete, he knew he was always safe with her to explore these kinks without danger or judgement. He knew she'd never force him to do anything he wasn't willing to do, and that opened up the door for him to get braver and more comfortable with trying new things.

They were on her bed, still naked from the shower, not feeling any need to prolong the inevitable. She kissed him slow and deep, tongues meeting in a teasing dance, driving them both wild. The little sounds he let out were going straight to her core. She was so excited about this, she had a feeling he'd love the sensation of having his ass played with and it made her proud that he was trusting her in this sensitive moment.

"Tell me the colors again." She ordered, kissing his neck, winding him up further. She always insisted he reminds himself of the colors, so there was no chance of a miscommunication in the heat of the moment.

"Green, yellow, red. I know the drill." He quickly listed the colors, exasperated and so turned on he could barely breathe.

"Don't get sassy." She warned, still kissing his skin, over his collar bones and shoulders. She loved to kiss the freckles on his body, finding them so damn beautiful.

He was struggling to breathe, forcing deep breaths into his lungs, while she worked him over, touching and kissing everywhere. His skin was flushed, muscles taut with restraint. It felt so good, her touch, he wondered how he didn't melt right into a puddle every time her skin was on his.

She kept exploring him with her fingerips and lips, nibbling on a nipple, lightly scratching down his abs, amping him up, every nerve ending so sensitive. His cock was hard as a rock and she couldn't help but smirk at his twitching, trying so hard to be good and not do anything she didn't tell him to.

She completely ignored his erection, instead focusing on massaging his balls causing moans to leave his lips. She loved the sounds he made, could get high on them.

"That feel good, huh?" She teased, kissing his thighs while she slowly moved one hand lower, barely touching his sensitive hole. He gasped as soon as her fingers brushed him there, finally grasping just how close she was to opening him up in a whole new way.

She laid kisses on his skin as her fingers slowly massaged around his hole, causing him to groan at the teasing tempo. He needed more, she was driving him nuts.

She could tell he was getting antsy, face flushed and little, desperate whines leaving his swollen lips. She reached for the bottle of lube she'd prepared, cracking it open and squeezing a generous amount on her fingers. Rubbing her fingers to warm them up, she looked at him, holding his breath in preparation.

"What's your color, baby?" She spread his legs wide open for better access, leaving him completely exposed in front of her.

"Green." The answer was immediate, a deep longing in his voice. He kept his eyes on her, eager to see every movement she made.

"I'm gonna go slow, okay? Nothing crazy. I promise." He was nodding, impatient yet grateful for the reassurance.

"Okay. Just please do something." She smiled at his little whine and decided to put him out of his mysery.

Her fingers finally made contact with the sensitive skin around his hole, massaging slowly, warming him up, making sure to put a decent amount of lube on his entrance. The massage felt so good he couldn't imagine how it could get better.

She kissed his tummy as she slowly eased the tip of her finger into his tight hole, causing a desperate gasp to leave him. She kept a watchful eye on his face, paying attention to every expression, every breath, twitch and sound that left him. She kissed his skin as she kept massaging and lightly slipping her finger into him deeper, going slowly not to overwhelm him. She was so damn turned on at how good he was being, proud of how brave he was to let her have him like this and eager to make him see stars.

Once she'd slowly eased a finger about half way, she checked in.

"How does it feel, baby?" She rubbed his thighs in a soothing motion which calmed his mind.

"Weird. But kinda good?" It was his first time ever having anything in his ass and the sensation was strange but at the same time he wanted more. He needed to know how good it could feel, because he knew she wouldn't do this if it wasn't going to make him feel great.

"You're doing so good for me, sweet boy." He whined at the praise, blushing profusely at the intimate situation.

"Still green?" He nodded quickly making her chuckle and continue her ministrations.

"Fuck..." he moaned as her finger went deeper, touching that sensitive spot inside him, causing his mind to go completely blank as she kept going. She started moving in and out slowly, grazing that magic spot with each thrust. The way he was responding was so fucking beautiful. He was letting out sounds she hadn't heard before, the brand new pleasure making him delirious.

"You're so tight around my finger, baby." The dirty talk had him whining in desperation, wanting more, wanting her to take him however she liked. This was so different to anything he'd experienced before and he really fucking liked it.

"Taking me so good." She kept talking him thought it as she gained speed, lightly curling her finger each time she grazed that spot, having him curling his toes in pleasure, gasps and moans leaving him without his knowledge. He was so wrapped up in how nice it felt he couldn't think of anything else but her finger, her touch, her voice overwhelming his senses.

"More." He whined out the most deperate little moan she'd ever heard in her life, her panties getting soaked seeing him like this.

"More?" She questioned, picking up the pace as his moans got louder, his head nodding, words escaping him.

She wasn't expecting to do more than one finger for the first time but the way he was reacting, taking it so well, so eager, begging for more? Yeah, she was losing her fucking mind. It was the hottest thing she'd ever witnessed.

"Think you can take another finger, baby boy?" His response an immediate, moaned out "yes, please". She could see his eyes getting teary and she didn't waste another moment before squirting more lube on him and easing another finger into his tight hole.

He was a mess of moans, grunts, whines, pleas and tears as she stretched him out, giving him a new level of pleasure as both fingers pumped into him. It was heaven. He couldn't believe he'd waited this long to do this. Though he couldn't imagine ever doing this with anyone else. She was it for him, he knew it. She blew his mind every fucking time they had sex, she introduced him to highs he never even imagined.

Fuck, it felt so good to have her on top of him, fucking him with her fingers, claiming him as hers. He was getting closer and closer, cock twitching on his stomach, leaking precum, red and throbbing without even being touched. It was insane.

"You look so beatiful, baby. Taking me so well. I'm so proud of you." His tears flowed freely at her words, overwhelmed at the pleasure and praise she was giving him. It was fucking perfect.

"I'm cl- so close." She could barely make out his words from the choked moan they escaped in.

"Yeah? You wanna cum, baby?" He was trashing under her now, losing all semblance of control as she worked him to his peak.

"Please..." his whines making her pussy throb with arousal, she picked up the pace, eager to see him fall apart for her.

"Be a good boy and cum for me." As she said those words she finally gripped his cock, squeezing him as he fell off the edge and into the most intense orgasm he'd ever had.

She got high off his desperate noises, the way he twitched as he orgasmed, clenching around her fingers, cock pulsing in her hand as his cum painted his stomach. It was so fucking beautiful, she couldn't look away even if she tried.

"Look at you. So pretty." She kissed his skin as the last of his aftershocks wore off. Her words were driving him insane, after everything that just happened, being flustered at a compliment seemed surreal but there he was.

It was the most intense experience of his life. And he couldn't be more grateful that he had her to guide him through it. He felt so sensitive and thoroughly wiped out, but in the best way possible.

"How you feeling, baby?" She posed the question as she gently cleaned up the mess he made all over his stomach using a tissue. He looked flushed and sated and she couldn't be more ecstatic about what just occured.

"Good." He let out a chuckle, meeting her gaze, melting at the way she was looking at him. So fondly, he couldn't cope.

"You did so good, angel. I'm so proud of you." Her words had him shook, the praise and approval making his insides feel like mush. If his skin wasn't already red from the intense scene he'd just been through, the blush would have been fierce.

"Thank you..." his soft whisper made the butterflies reappear in her tummy. He looked so fucking beautiful she couldn't handle it.

She made her way up his body, leaving soft kisses all over his skin, warming him up with each one. She kissed his face next, the salty remnant of the tears he'd shed from pleasure being washed away with soft pecks. It was so tender and sweet he almost cried all over again.

When her lips met his, he felt as though his heart just might burst at how full and happy he was. He had never felt this happy in his whole fucking life. How did he get so lucky?

"Holy shit, baby. That was the sexiest thing I've ever seen." He giggled at her words, making the smile on her face seem permanent. So fucking cute she couldn't handle it, leading her to smother his face in kisses, causing those giggles to come out again. She was in trouble.

"Alright, baby. Gonna go clean up, be right back." She laid a final peck on his lips before making her way to the bathroom. He felt cold as soon as her touch left him and he wondered how the hell he could miss someone who's only a room away.

She took her time washing her hands, making sure they were clean enough to touch him again. She wanted to run her fingers over his face and it killed her that she had to refrain. She knew he was feeling exhausted but she had one more thing in mind before they could relax. She was excited and hoped he had enough energy to handle it.

When she made her way back to the room she found him sleepily looking at her. He had a cute little smile on and her heart skipped a beat. She climbed back on top of him, warming him up all over again, making him release a relieved sigh. He wondered how healthy it was for him to need to be with her all the time, but he didn't have it in him to care too much. Her touch, her comfort, her care was addicting and he wouldn't want to change it for the world.

She kissed him softly, drawing out a satisfied moan from him as their tongues met. She cupped his face as she kissed him, taking his breath away once again. He slowly reached up to hold her closer, feeling relief he wasn't used to, once they were skin to skin.

"You were such a good boy for me." She kissed the corner of his mouth, leaving him to struggle with responding at how good it felt and how much he loved when she called him that.

"You up for more, baby?" The kisses travelled over his neck and his heart started racing once he processed her words.

"More? I don't know if I can..." he was all whiny and shy, not wanting to disappoint her but not feeling ready for another intense experience. He thought he was done.

"No?" She kissed under his ear making his eyes roll to the back of his head. She was driving him insane.

"You don't want your reward?" He gasped as she lightly bit into his shoulder, feeling like he'd float away any second. But then he realized what she'd said.

"What? You- Wh-" he was trying to force her to look at him, pulling her face gently up to meet her eyes as he stumbled over his words.

"Reward?" He was looking at her with wide eyes, confusion on his face obvious. She simply sat up and cocked a brow, waiting for him to figure it out. It took a minute for his brain to catch up with him but once it did he thought he'd lost it.

"You- Are you serious?" He was practically begging her to say yes with the way he was looking at her. Like if she said no, his heart would shatter.

"Mhm. If you think you can handle it." She shrugged and had to hold back a laugh when he started furiously nodding his head.

"Yes! I can. Please. Green. Yes, please. Please please please..." he was blushing at his desperation but couldn't hold it back. The though of finally getting to taste her was making every nerve in his body buzz in excitement. He was on the precipice of heaven and he couldn't handle rejection now.

"You sure? You weren't too excited earlier..." his stomach dropped at her words.

"No! I mean, yes! I am so sure, please. I just thought you meant more... of what happened earlier." He was blushing profusely as he tried to get her to understand he was serious about being able to handle eating her out.

The way he was acting all shy and sheepish and desperate was really tugging at her heartstrings.

"You mean when you came around my fingers?" His blush got fiercer as he shyly nodded. He hated how much she loved to tease him when he's so wound up. But the smile on her face in that moment almost made up for it.

"I don't know, it seemed like you were enjoying it..." She kept teasing him, running her fingers over his stomach causing him to squirm with the light tickles. She was playing with him and he knew it.

"You know I was. I just can't do more of that right now... But I can make you feel good. Please?" He was trying to hard not to let his frustration seep through in his words. He needed to stay on her good side if he wanted a chance to finally taste her tonight. But the eagerness which he felt was making him extra antsy, itching for a chance to have her in this new way.

"Since you asked so nicely and you took my fingers so well..." The blush on his face had no chance of leaving when she kept talking like that.

"I'm gonna ride your face. You okay with that, baby?" He was practically shaking with excitement, nodding his head an eager yes.

"Yes, please..." his whine had her tummy stirring again and the wetness from earlier returned.

Rafe thought he would pass out as he watched her straddling his chest, being so close to her heat he could almost smell it. He couldn't wait anymore, all his fantasies were coming alive in that moment. He thought he'd never craved anything more than to have her on his tongue. He knew once he tasted her he'd be addicted and he didn't care. He was so fucking close.

"If you want to stop or talk or anything, tap my thigh. Okay?" He was struggling to find words when he could see how pretty her pussy was up close and she was playing with his hair just right. A harsh tug broke his daze as he looked up at her and finally answered.

"Yes. Please sit on my face." She almost laughed at his eagerness but refrained, taking in the adorable little pout he had on his face.

"Okay, baby." She positioned herself above him and he felt like he'd explode in the few seconds it took for her to lower herself on his face. And then she was and it was paradise. He couldn't imagine anything in existence could ever be better than this moment.

Her scent, her taste, it was so fucking addicting right off the bat. He wasted no time exploring her with his mouth, savouring the new position he was lucky to end up in. His hands made home on her ass, feeling the plump skin, massaging it as his tongue licked at her warmth. He wasn't even aware of the noises he was making as he ate her, too consumed in her pussy and bringing her pleasure to hear the moans and groans leaving him. However, she could not only hear him, but feel the vibrations on her skin, making the pleasure of his whines that much stronger. It felt amazing. He was so good with his mouth, she had no doubt he would be but it was a whole other thing actually experiencing it firsthand.

She started to slowly grind on him and his moans only got louder, his movements more eager. He fucking loved this, loved having her ride his face. He could cum just from this, he'd swear. His cock was already fully hard again but it didn't matter. Nothing mattered but the woman on top of him, chasing her pleasure, using him - while he devoured his favorite meal of all time. He'd never enjoy the taste of anything more than her. He was a goner.

Her grinds got more intense, pressing her clit on his nose just right, causing his brain to go haywire at the way she was using him. His cock was twitching on his stomach at how hot this was. Moans finally left her lips and it was the most glorious of sounds. He squeezed her ass, wishing he could stay like this for an eternity.

He slipped his tongue inside her cunt and nearly wept when he felt her walls clench around the muscle. It was dirty and heavenly all at once. She reached back to tease his nipples, urging him on. He slurped and sucked on her clit, making sure to cherish every little moan and breath and clench she let out. It was the most erotic thing he'd ever witnessed. He wished he could see the look on her face when she came.

She was close, surprising herself at how quickly he managed to get her there. She buried her hand into his hair, riding his face just a little harder, chasing her high. She had never been this vocal in bed. He always brought out new experiences for her as well.

"I'm close, baby." He groaned into her pussy, hands urging her to go faster, to reach her orgasm. It only took a few more grinds of her hips for her to let go.

Then it was her juices, her taste and smell and sounds overwhelming all his senses. He lapped up every drop greedily, not wanting this moment to end. Her thighs closed around his head for a second but it was enough to have him almost reaching the end himself. He wouldn't do that though. Not again. Not without permission. This was about her. And God, was she incredible.

As the last of her shakes left her, she quickly pulled off of him, lowering herself down on his chest, eagerly checking on him. Her hands met his cheeks, his skin wet from her release and a big cheeky smile on his face when she met his eyes. He was so fucking high off of her coming in his mouth. The sexiest thing he'd ever experienced in his life.

"Thank you." Those were the first words that left him after he brought her to one of the most intense orgasms of her life. She wanted to curse at how pretty he looked all fucked out. The cheeky grin and the sparkling eyes driving her insane.

She hadn't let many people eat her out before, always focusing more on their pleasure, finding the act a bit too intimate for her liking. But damn if it didn't feel right with him. She could feel herself getting all soft and mushy inside, hoping he can't tell just how fucking smitten she was with him. She kissed him to hide her burning cheeks from his view, distracting them both, tasting herself on his tongue, swallowing up his moans, making them hers.

"If you're gonna reward me like that every time, I'm happy to do anal stuff any day now." She laughed at his words, running her fingers over his face gently, taking in the lovely moment of peace and contentment.

"You're telling me if I didn't let you eat me out, you wouldn't want me to fuck your ass?" He blushed at her words, letting her know just how much they affected him.

"No. I'd want it anyway." He was being honest and vulnerable, just like they talked about and it was doing funny things to her head.

"Thought so." She pretended to be serious for a moment but then let her guard down when she kissed all over his face again. His laugh made butterflies soar in her tummy. Fuck, if she didn't love that sound.

"I'm really glad you enjoyed it." She knew he had been apprehensive about trying anal play and she was honoured he trusted her enough to explore it with her for the first time.

"It was the best orgasm of my life." She chuckled and he looked at her so fondly she couldn't handle it.

"Nothing compared to how amazing it was having you ride my face, though." His cheeky smirk was back but she could hear the truth in his voice. He really did love eating her out. And she figured she'd let him to it more often since it was just so much fucking fun.

"You're a cheeky bastard, you know that?" He nuzzled into her skin, enjoying the playful banter they always ended up back in.

"Mhm. You like me, though." He kissed her shoulder, holding her that much closer, their naked bodies tangled together in the most wonderful mess of limbs.

"Sadly, I do. A frat guy, no less." He snorted a cute laugh and she couldn't help but laugh too.

"Luckiest frat guy in the world." His voice was so soft and he looked at her so fondly her breath caught in her throat.

He unhinged her. Every time she thought she finally stood on solid ground he went and said something sweet like that, honest like that, and shook her world to the ground again. The feelings that were bubbling inside her were way too serious and way to soon for her to entertain. So she did what she always did and shut him up with another kiss.

-------------------------

Taglist: if anyone wants to be tagged in future work let me know; @torturedtypewritersdept @kinkyrafe @mentallynot-here @wishing-i-was-rafes-princess @clinelyn @magnificantmermaid @mannstarkey @harringtonstudios @totallynotkaibiased @popcrone818 @fangirlwithlou @rafesxgold @malfoytargaryen @theyluvmesblog @withbeautyandrage @sierrahhh @harrys-humble-housewife @piceous21 @ditzyballerina @xoxo3m1ly @jessmaybank @whore-4-drewstarkey @palmwinemami @dustbunniess @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @starkowswife @ietss @beansprout713 @starkeysbebe @miahxelizabeth

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unhinged-simp · 7 months ago

Note

Hey, can you write more hcs for TD characters courting mc? Really love your work

Taiga, Ritsu, and Zenji courting hcs

Yes of course! Thank you for the wait!

Sorry for the disappearance, I got a bit busy so it took a bit to finished! You didn't specify any characters, so I just put them in a generator and it gave me them.

Spoilers for the Hotarubi chapter(Zenji's under the cut)

Honestly it's a surprise that Taiga even remembered that you existed, and especially so that he's courting you. He doesn’t even ask if you want to be courted, he just starts doing so.

You find out pretty soon that Taiga means to court you though.

His texts with you were filled with pickup lines, misspelled words, and the occasional ‘who is this?’ if he doesn’t remember.

His gifts are almost cat life, as he brings you dead anomalies and raw meat. He doesn’t care much for romantic gifts, like flowers unless you give him some.

Dates with Taiga mostly happen at the casino with him gambling while you watch. There is a chance you could convince him to come to your place for a home date.

He doesn’t really care much about boundaries, unless you make it a big deal.

He's super into physical touch, he likes having you in his lap and using you as a pillow for his naps.

Taiga is super into kisses and making out. Though make out sessions often means that you'll have multiple bite marks near and around your neck.

When you first get marks from Taiga, the other ghouls were concerned, now it's just kind of a regular occurrence.

Taiga would invite you over to the casino to watch him gamble, since he secretly considers you his lucky charm.

Ritsu is one of the best when it comes to courting. Although he’s very by the book.

When he learns he can’t ask your parents, he asks you instead.

His texts are usually formal and polite, usually asking you if you wanted to go get dinner or lunch, or asking about date times.

He texts you in the morning and after work ends.

Ritsu mostly gives flowers to you, but he does give you jewelry sometimes.

He's more traditional when it comes to dates, preferring fancy dinners to any other.

Ritsu is very respectful of your boundaries, if you don't like to be touched, he wouldn’t touch you.

He's not that big into physical touch, but if you wanted to cuddle him or kiss him, he would let you. Though he wouldn't like it when he's working, as he considers it unprofessional.

He would like you to give him kisses every morning before work and class.

You’d invite him over for little parties on the weekends.

He first thought about courting when Haku brought it up. He’d start courting you without asking you first.

When he started doing random things, like giving you things or texting you everyday, you were confused. So you went to Haku.

Haku found out that Zenji was trying to court you, and chewed him out a bit about not letting you know. And so, Zenji went to ask you.

Zenji texts you everyday, wishing you a good morning, wondering how your classes are, and how your day has been going. He uses those sparkly good morning gifs every morning.

Zenji loves giving you flowers, although he can only give you flowers he finds in the grass since he's you know.

Dates with Zenji usually consist of listening to him play the biwa in various places, or stargazing occasionally. He's content with just sitting beside you and watching you eat.

Zenji is the most respectful person when it comes to boundaries. Since he can’t touch you, he's content with just looking at you.

He longs for the day he can touch you.

Whenever you talk to Zenji, other people stare at you like your crazy, but you ignore them.

#tokyo debunker #tokyo debunker x reader #taiga hoshibami x reader #ritsu shinjo x reader #zenji kotodama x reader #taiga hoshibami #ritsu shinjo #zenji kotodama

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magicalgoblinz · 1 year ago

Text

One Thing

Summary: You did it. Cazador's dead and now... Astarion is finding himself working through some big emotions. Pairing: Astarion x gn!reader Word Count: 3.5 k Warnings: General angst, eluding to physical, emotional, and sexual abuse. Possibly ooc Astarion. Quickly edited. Song Recommendation: Never Let Me Go + Florence and the Machine Author's Note: First thing I've ever written for Astarion but I get the feeling it won't be the last. I really genuinely just wanted to get this idea out of my brain even if it's a bit strange and not all that amazing haha.

It had been a long day. Perhaps one of the longest you and your party had endured yet, or... at least it felt that way. It wasn't hard on your body like the goblin fight had been, nor had it been arcanely exhaustive like chasing that damned hag was. No, standing in the halls of Cazador's palace brought a different type of exhaustion. Passing through the spaces that your lover had once stalked attempting to go unseen by his master, seeing the sights of the spaces he was kept, smelling the decay, the putridness that no doubt lingered in the meals he was forced to partake in.

Every sight, smell, and sound you had come across weighed heavily on you. Even now as you sat in the plush comfort that was Elfsong Inn, freshly washed, the scents lingered in your nose and left a bitter taste in your mouth.

You pushed around the hastily prepared hash in your bowl, frown bared for everyone to see. Your thoughts were only for him. Every second of silence you could hear his sobs in that moment. The cries pulled from his very core, the kind of cries you could imagine he had dreamed of releasing for so long through every moment of torture he was subjected to. There was no way to imagine all of the atrocities he had suffered, yet somehow being left with nothing made every idea that flitted past your mind's eye so much worse.

You for so long had wished to weep for him. Weep for the time he had lost. Weep for the pain he must have felt in having to stand on the outside wondering if his family and friends ever thought of him again after he passed on. Weep for the crushed hopes for the future he had at one time had.

But what good would your tears do him now?

Cazador was dead.

And more importantly... Astarion was free.

So why did it all still feel so... excruciatingly heavy?

"Ts'ka --- eat and do not play. You need your strength for tomorrow." Lae'zel pushed from her lounging position on the floor.

"Have some heart, Lae'zel. It’s been a very difficult day." Wyll was quick to defend upon seeing the way your expression soured at the thought of eating. "Y/n, had to assist our resident vampire through some very hard things today. Including walking through where he had been kept prisoner. Imagine having to do the same with your lover." He said with a gesture towards Lae'zel.

"If I had a lover they would be able to care for themselves; it would be the first thing I looked for in a mate. A prowess to stay alive in battle like my own is the only thing that is truly attractive." Lae'zel said with a lifted chin.

Wyll's lips parted as if to say something more but began to shake his head, there was no fighting with La'zel. She didn't dig her heels in when it came to opinions, no her entire feet were buried. "Speaking of Astarion, where is he?" He eventually asked, changing the focus of the conversation.

"I believe he went for a bath." Shadowheart interjected, "He said something about not being able to stand having his beauty mired... you know how he is." She said, not lifting her eyes from her bowl with a small wave of her spoon that was held in delicate fingers.

Her saying this seemed to pull your eyes towards the door of the wash room. It had been a while since he left now that you thought about it. Your brows lowered a bit in thought; Astarion deserved his space right now, but you still couldn't help but want to hold his hand and not let it go after everything that had happened today. Maybe he wouldn't want that though, not with what you did today.

That look in his eyes...

Now that he had the time to actually think about what you did, what you talked him into doing; would he feel betrayed?

You had promised him you'd help him get that power he so desired, but when that chance came you changed your mind.

The idea of Astarion no longer trusting you hurt more than imagining him ending whatever it was the two of you had. The worries made your expression sullen even more, looking down at your bowl with a deeper pit growing in your stomach. Did you really want to find out?

Out of the blue, there is a light nudge to your arm. The little touch is enough to pull you back up from your descent into grieving something you hadn't even lost yet. With a glance to your right you find Karlach with a bottle outstretched to you. "I think we could all use a little drink tonight... but especially Astarion." She said warmly, "Perhaps you should see if he wants some?" She continued with a little jerk of her head towards the closed doors. Her tone made it all to clear that your inner turmoil was written out on your face for everyone to see.

A sigh escaped your throat as you debated on whether or not that was a good idea but the way Karlach began to lazily swing the bottle back and forth with her hand triggered something in your mind that made you reach out and take it in one smooth movement.

It couldn't hurt to check in on him?

Could it?

Astarion's head was rested back, hanging over the edge of the bath he sat in. The water had lost the majority of its warmth, and his hand had pruned but he made no movements to get out. Eyes transfixed on the dancing flames in the fireplace at the side of the room. Every twist of orange and lift of a spark made his mind lurch through another memory; they all seemed to be coming back to him now, one by one. His mind shuddered from the thought of a blade pressed into his skin, carving, etching, his skin becoming the canvas for a dastardly design that he wouldn't understand for years.

Funnily, the recollection of pain wasn't what bothered him. It was having to recall his own voice struggling not to escape his lips throughout the entire gut-wrenching experience that made his hand ball into a fist.

With a pop and crackle of the wood Astarion's memories would carry on to something else.

His ears ringing, echoing the silence of that tomb. Gods above that tomb. That year spent in silence. Those months spent starving. The way his hands bled from trying ever so desperately to escape. Over what...? A boy that he couldn't bear to steal the life away from.

Astarion took in a sharp breath as he tried to shake away the thought, as he sat up.

But still the memories continued to bleed through. The faces of all those people he had brought to Cazador, he could see them in his mind's eye. The memories of bedding some of them, cycling through his head in a complete sequence even though they were spread across centuries. A flash of a young human woman who excitedly spun in a brand new red dress that she was ever so excited to show off. The pale blue of a nervous elf man's eyes as they darted around the room the second Astarion approached. Seeing the tattoos and the scars spread across the back of a dwarven sailor who stretched after returning to the mainland after a long voyage. The shine of a coy tiefling woman's smile as she attempted to steal his coin purse from his pocket. So many lives, so many people. At what point did he begin to stop caring? Who was it that he pulled by the wrist back to a dreary room that made him start drifting away any time he had to become intimate? Or was it any of them at all?

His features twisted into an expression of disgust the second his mind started going down that path. There was no amount of Cazador being dead that made those memories better. In a snap his balled up hands lifted to rub his eyes in annoyance. If only Astarion could wash out his eyes and his mind and start anew. If only.

And to think... he had wanted this for so long.

He had dreamt about the day he'd be able to have the cathartic feeling of stabbing Cazador, again, and again, and again. And now that it had come and gone... he wished he could have kept going forever. Fuck, he wished he had. After everything Cazador had done to him, the bastard deserved so much worse than to bleed out on that cold floor. He deserved to suffer just as much as Astarion had, if not more.

Astarion couldn't help but wish that he had ignored everyone and continued the ritual as a perfect slap in the face to Cazador. Continued that ritual, so for the first time in all these years... he'd be safe. Entirely safe. And the loss of that made his chest ache, he was so close to crying all over again.

But then...

Tap, tap, tap

"Astarion," Your voice started from just beyond the doors. "I'm sorry to bother you. I just um... wanted to check in. Karlach thought you might need a drink."

There was you.

Astarion's head lifted from his hands as he took in a deep breath. He tried to shove all those emotions back down again, to put the cork back in the bottle before they could really bleed out into him properly. His gaze lingering on the door, lips unmoving.

"Didn't you hear him? If you complete the ritual, you'll be consumed, Astarion." You had said with a look of sincere terror in your eyes. The look wasn't foreign to him... but perhaps different? People had been scared of him before, oh people had been terrified once they realized what he was. But just how many people had been scared for him? That... he didn't know.

He couldn't remember his exact words in reply now, the tension and adrenaline leaving them in a silent part of his mind but what he did recall was the way you looked at him. It stung. It stung so much more than the little voice in the back of his mind screaming that you were breaking your promise.

You promised to help him ascend. You swore you would help him ascend. You said---

Gods that look. Astarion couldn’t shake it.

The way your eyes seemed to plead with him before you had even opened your mouth. Begging him to reconsider. "I know you think this will set you free, but it won't." Your voice was so gentle, but still so desperate. "This power will trap you, just like it trapped Cazador. Is that really what you want?"

You were right, as much as he hated it. You were always right.

But more than that. As he thought about it now, he recognized something that he hadn't in that moment...

Just outside the door you stood listening, hoping to hear something, anything. Your thumb fumbled with the cork of the bottle nervously. This was a bad idea wasn't it? He needed more time. This was too soon to try and come see him. Gods... what if he really did hate you for what you did. You started to shake your head, "...I'm going to take that as a no. I'll um..." you started lightly, trying not to have your worry show through in your words. "I'm sorry again for interrupting. I'll see you when you're finished, my darling."

Once more. You wanted to call him that one more time before he had a chance to break things off.

"Come in."

Your eyes couldn't help but widen ever so slightly, hand moving to the handle before cautiously pushing the door open and poking your head in. From this angle you could see Astarion's side profile, the good majority of the grime and blood from the day having been washed away, though his clothes that sat off to the side on a bench, were stained a deep red that would take ages to remove, if it ever came out at all. His eyes soon looked your way tiredly. As an instinct you quickly held up the bottle you had brought him, no words coming to follow it, they all seemed to have gone into hiding the second his eyes landed on you.

"Are you planning on bringing the bottle here my sweet, or to just... swing it around like an idiot?" He asked in a long drawn out way, a tone that felt like he was trying to maintain a sense of normalcy for you, but at this point in your adventure together the look in his eyes was more than enough to tell you that he was working through something.

You were entirely taken aback by the gentle name used, a little bit of relief seeping into your chest. "Y-you want me to come in?"

"Was that not what I said?"

Your lips parted, deciding not to speak just yet and instead closing the door behind you. "I'm sorry... I just didn't want to overstep with you, you know… washing and all." You said slowly, acting as if you weren’t both adults – who had on more than occasion – slept together.

Even now, even after seeing him at his lowest today, you were still trying to respect whatever boundaries he had. The thought made Astarion close his eyes and let out a soft laugh, "Darling, you've seen me naked before, it's fine." He assured, "Now...please, for the love of gore and everything soaked in blood, can you bring me that bottle."

There was no reluctance now, carrying yourself to his side with ease. As you approached you couldn't help but notice that his hair was still matted thick with blood in places. All this time he clearly had just been lost in his thoughts as much as you expected really. His hand reached up the second you drew near, taking the bottle from your hands greedily, popping the cork and taking a decidedly long drink. Not minding you at all as you reluctantly found a seat on the bench his clothes were rested upon.

The sight of his nose scrunching a bit from the taste of the wine made an ever so small smile tug at the corner of your mouth. It was hard not to recall him making that same face at the tiefling party not so long ago. Vinegar for wine. Would there be a day when the wine you brought him didn't elicit that involuntary response?

Astarion glanced at you from the corner of his eye, "You'd have made an excellent vampire, you know." He said with an amused little grin, all happy to see the confusion cover your features.

"Why is that?"

"Asking to come in, obviously." He joked loosely,

A small laugh left your lips as your eyes drifted to the floor, "I didn't realize that respecting people's privacy was so vampiresque."

"It's not, we're atrociously nosey by nature and well... it's just another fun hindrance to go against that nature I suppose." Astarion spoke in his normal moseying draw.

"I see..."

There was a breadth of silence between the two of you. A silence that carried the heaviness of the day's events. You knew it needed to be said, but it didn't make it any easier to consider what the exact words were that needed saying. How to broach it? What if he didn’t want to talk about it at all and you misread the situation entirely? You kept glancing his way hoping to have it all come together in your mind like some sort of epiphany, yet he beat you to it.

"I'm not upset with you, darling. You don't have to keep looking at me like that." Astarion spoke suddenly with all the ease in the world.

"You're not?"

"Well, perhaps I was a little at first. You did go back on your word, after all." Astarion pointed out, eyes now fixed on the bottle in his hand. “I think anyone might be a bit… sour after something like that.”

There was the guilt again. "Astarion... I'm sorry, I---"

"I don't want your apologies." He cut in sharply, finally turning his gaze to look your way. Despite what his tone may have indicated, his eyes weren't as stern as they normally appeared when he was upset. No, they were instead ever so full of sadness. "...I-I'm not angry with you. I swear it. But what I don't understand is why I don't feel any fucking better." Astarion said as his voice suddenly sounded so much more fragile. "I... I killed him. I got the revenge I've dreamed about for two-hundred fucking years. The same revenge I begged for the whole year I was locked in that horrid tomb." He hissed, "I took back my life and yet I... I feel like I didn't do enough."

He was cracking. That much you could see.

"I can't help but wonder if I had completed the ceremony if that would have been enough. Enough to rub it in his Gods damned face that I did it." Astarion admitted sternly, lifting his chin as his eyes stayed focused on the bottle still, "Watch this worm take away everything from him like he took everything from me." He mumbled out, the heat leaving his voice for a brief second as all that he was left with was glassy eyes.

"...I-I would have never had to fear anyone or anything ever again..." Astarion uttered through clenched teeth, tears finally breaking free and running down his cheeks one at a time. "...and now it's gone."

Wordlessly you got to your feet, taking a few steps forward to close the gap between you both, leaning down to wrap your arms around his neck in the most comforting hug you could possibly muster. His hand immediately finds your arm, holding it tight as for the second time in your journey, he begins to cry.

Silence seems to be what Astarion needed from you, wailing into the open air as everything he has stuffed away into that bottle comes pouring back out. No apologies. No consoling words. Just for you to hold him, to give him time. His head rests against yours almost as if to ensure that even now, after everything you both had been through, you couldn't see him cry. Perhaps the idea of you seeing it happen twice in a day was too much for him. Or perhaps there was still a festering feeling of weakness that would bubble up if he let you see him cry.

"Oh my sweet, sweet, Astarion." You mumbled holding him tighter than before, listening as his sobs grew softer over the passing moments.

Waiting. Listening.

Once his frame had stopped shaking you finally raised your voice once more . "...if I could Astarion, I would take away all of the hurt in an instant... but I can't. And I wish you knew just how much it pains me to not be able to." You speak, parting your lips to continue on but pause as you feel a familiar shudder resonate through your mind. He was peering in, confirming the statement for himself it seemed. "The most I can do is promise you something..." you continued on, pretending like you weren't aware of poking around, you had nothing to hide for one key reason…

Gently you pulled back, running your hand from his neck to his chin to tilt his head up. Eyes looking over his tear stained cheeks and then to meet his own shimmering red eyes. "I promise you that, as long as I'm here you will never have to fear anything... or anyone again." You assured, thumbs brushing over his cheeks as you wipe away his remaining tears. “Because Astarion… I love you and… I will never let you go.”

The look that fills Astarion's eyes is something that you had only seen once before when you decided to hug him for the first time back in the Shadowlands. It was a look that spoke numbers towards just how frightening the unknown was for him. How terrifying it could be to have someone love you so truly and want nothing in return for the first time in his life.

You feel a rush of surprise followed by so overwhelming, your lips curl into the same smile you gave him then as you had reached out to wrap your arms around him to hold him tight…

You know the feeling even if he can’t say it yet.

Love.

Because that was the thing. Astarion had realized before this that you… well, you were the only good thing that he’s ever had. That he’d do just about anything to keep you safe and ensure that no one dare take you away from him. Yet, strangely he never once considered…

That he might mean just that much to you.

End Notes: Thank you so much for reading! I'd really love to start writing for Astarion more so if you have any ideas send them over <3

#astarion x reader #astarion #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 astarion #bg3 fanfiction #astarion fanfic #astarion fic #astarion angst #astarion x you #astarion x tav

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 5 months ago

Text

Unparadiz’d

Warnings: non/dubcon, bullying, blowjob, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Part of Roo’s Pajama Party (October 7-8)

Prompt: Unparadiz’d - brought from joy to miserie. (List of prompts here) + this look

Note: Please leave some feedback and reblog <3 As always, I love to chat with you all. I hope you enjoy this one and have a lovely weekend.

This is the last of pajama party drabbles. Let me know if you want me to do anything else like this.

“Actually, you’re both wrong. Gladiators were more often highly-trained. In fact, many were soldiers, but they most certainly weren’t slaves,” you intone.

You can’t help a smile. After more than an hour of chatter over things you didn’t know or care about, the conversation finally sways in your direction. History. That’s your ish. The Roman Empire especially.

“And where did you get that?” Ransom scoffs.

Charles rubs your back encouragingly. He hates how you tend to fade into the background. He needs someone who can stand at his side, not behind him.

“Well, I studied history. Masters, um, but you know, I am always open to learning new things. So, perhaps you might have proof otherwise.”

Ransom scowls. He hasn’t offered much more than that for most of the night. You don’t take it personally. He isn’t much better with the table full of people he calls friends. As the newcomer, you’ll happily just let it slide off your back.

“I don’t care that much,” he snorts. “Whatever. Charles, what about that Corvette? Sounds like a broke down train pulling up.”

“It’s antique. A classic. You would know if you had any sense of taste.” Charles rebuffs smoothly. “Safia, you’ll have to recommend me your chef. Mine can’t make ravioli for shit.”

You smile prettily and keep your fingers pinched around the stem of your glass. Charles’ friends are the society type. Your own are few and far between and the most you did was go out for coffee or a movie. These people are intellectuals and you can’t help but feel like a pretender.

“Stealing from me again, eh, Charles,” Safia drawls. “Mm, I might. If you’re a good boy.”

Safia is gorgeous. Thick black brows, thicker hair, full lips. You can’t tell if she’s flirting or you’re just intimidated.

“So,” Kimora turns to you pointedly, “you studied history. How cute. What did you study exactly?”

“Hmph, Marie Antoinette and the like, I’m sure,” Ransom mutters.

“Um, ancient history, actually,” you speak up. “Egypt, Greece, and Roman. But I was able to explore a bit more in my undergrad.”

Ransom clucks and drains his glass of whiskey. Your eyes meet his stormy ones. You’re not sure if his irritation is meant for you or if it’s more a general disdain. Every time you speak only deepens his agitation. You might be better staying quiet. You can bear the lecture from Charles after, but the hatred in that man’s eyes pierces like a knife.

“Well, if you’re looking for any writers on the subject,” Charles suggests, “I give her a five-star review.”

“No one wants to read about dead people,” Ransom snips.

You sip from your glass and lower your gaze to the table. You’re embarrassed. There’s really no particular reason to be but the way he talks scalds you with shame. Everything you do is wrong in his eyes.

“I don’t know, Hugh, some of them are a lot more interesting than you,” Charles retorts.

“Fuck off,” Ransom snarls. “Don’t call me that.”

“Oh, my bad. At least Hugh doesn’t sound like it belongs on a dog,” Charles chuckles.

Ransom slams his hand down, rattling his plate and cutlery, “you’re such a fucking smart ass, Charlie.”

“Oh, behave,” Safia reprimands, “sit down.”

“Piss off, mommy dearest,” Ransom spins and stomps out. “Bunch of snobs.”

As he storms off, Charles laughs louder and Safia tuts and shakes her head at him. Bronson reaches over to take an untouched quiche from Ransom’s plate. “More for us.”

You stare after the angry man. Something must be wrong. It can’t just be the dinner. It’s been rather pleasant up to that point.

“Well, we’ve almost finished the bottle,” Charles reaches for the wine. “You’ve got a spare bed?”

“You know I do, Charles,” Safia affirms. “I had the guest rooms made up. I know you all too well.”

“Oh, don’t act like you haven’t kept pace,” Kimora tosses back with a smirk. “Charles, save some for me.” She puts her glass out and you glance down at your own. You still haven’t even finished your first.

The night wears on as you once more get lost amidst the garble. You put a word in or two but someone else always talks a bit louder or you find yourself without much to say. Finally, the plates are cleared and you disburse to find a room to sleep in.

You didn’t expect to stay the night, but Charles seems to have anticipated it. He pulls a black nightie from his leather bag and fans it out on the bed. You stare at the dainty fabric.

“Oh, wonderful.”

You wonder why he didn’t mention the possibility. It hardly matters. Charles knows best.

You change into the night gown. It’s tight and a bit short. You fix the straps as they dig into your shoulders.

“I don’t understand, it’s your size,” he drawls and belches into his hand, “mm, those prawns aren’t settling.”

“Are you okay? Should I get you some water?” You offer.

He waves you off and grumbles as he stomps around the bed. You watch him go then slowly look down at the nightie. Your chest threatens to fall out of the bodice.

You sit and wait and listen. The tap runs then shuts off. Charles’ wretch follows and his vomit hits the water loudly. You cringe and get up. You go to the bathroom door and nudge it open, “Charles, can I--”

“Get the fuck out!” He barks and you obey.

You back up to the bed and sit. You won’t be able to sleep. He’s sick and you just want to make it better. Well, it’s good he gets it out. You probably wouldn’t want someone hovering over you in the same situation.

You wait for Charles. Twenty minutes before you get up and knock on the bathroom door. He doesn’t answer but as you try the handle, you find it locked. He’ll come out when he’s ready.

You keep the lamp on and move to the top of the bed. You fold the blanket back and recline, but don’t cover yourself. You turn onto your side and close your eyes.

As you keep your ears perked for Charles’, you slowly drift down. After the long night and stress of meeting new people, you’re exhausted. You cross your arms and sink into the mattress. Reality is vague on the other side of your eyelids as sleep creeps up your body.

You lurch away as a door clicks. You roll onto your back and look toward the bathroom. The door is still closed. You blink as a shadow emerges from behind the other. The door to the hallway.

You lay in disbelief, paralysed in surprise. It’s Ransom. He wears only a pair of silk boxers. He must have gone into the wrong room.

“Um, hi?” You sit up, “I think--”

He puts his fingers to his lips and you snap your mouth shut. Confused. Maybe he needs to talk to Charles.

“Charles is just--”

He wiggles his finger then points it as you. He comes up to the foot of the bed. He tilts his head as his eyes scour over your body. He smirks.

“You know about gladiators, huh? Know everything, don’t you?” He hisses.

“Erm, no, I... no,” you gulp. “I didn’t say that.”

“But you had to say something,” he snorts.

“No, I was only... talking,” you tense and bend your legs up protectively. “I’m just about to go to sleep. I can let Charles know--”

“You can shut the fuck up,” he puts his knee on the bed and reaches for you. He snakes your ankle and pulls your leg straight. You squeal as he hauls you down the bed. “Make another noise and I’ll go find Charles and bash his head into the fucking toilet.”

“Please,” you wisp.

“I fucking mean it,” he wrestles your legs down as you try to kick. He crawls over your body to straddle you. You claw at his forearms and wriggle helplessly. “You think you fucking know it all, well, I’m about to teach you the most important fucking lesson.”

He closes his hands around your throat and you cough. His thumb presses down sharply and you whimper. He shakes you until you’re quiet. Your eyes wet and you try to bat away the fuzzy sheen.

“You don’t fuck around with me,” he growls as he glares down at you. “I don’t care if you’re fucking that cockwad, you speak to me with respect.”

You wheeze and slap your hand on the bed. You didn’t mean to. You were just trying to fit in. Why is he so mad?

“So let’s start easy. Don’t make a fucking sound, do you got me?”

You nod frantically against his grip as your head pulses from the lack of air. He grins and slowly releases you. He brushes his hands along your shoulders and yanks down the straps of your dress. Your tits pop out and you close your eyes in shame.

“Look at these things,” he gropes your chest greedily. “Guess that makes up for that mouth.” You sniffle and he pinches your nipples meanly, “look at me, you bitch.”

Your eyes snap open and round, tears bobbling along the brims. He snickers and flicks his finger up your throat. He pokes at your mouth and toys with your lower lip.

“I know exactly how to train that mouth of yours. Surprised Charlie hasn’t already,” he pushes his finger into your mouth, forcing deep until his knuckles press against your teeth and you gag.

He rips his hand away and raises himself on his knees. You squeak as he rolls down his boxers and springs free. His dick bobs as he climbs over you and you shake your head and snivel.

He grabs his dick and your head. He wrenches you up by your hair, straining your neck as he presses his tip to your lips. You clamp your mouth shut and whimper.

“Open the fuck up or I’ll break your teeth. Don’t think I’m fucking lying. I’m here, aren’t I?”

You tremble and give in. Your eyes flow over and blur with the wash of tears. It’s not just the violation, it’s that Charles is right on the other side of that wall. And you’re just letting this happen.

Ransom rams into your mouth. He shows no mercy as he thrusts down and invades your throat. His hand fists in your hair as his other trails back to your throat. He rubs there as he pushes down to his limit. As he thrusts, he feels himself from the outside, growling and grunting as you gurgle.

“Yeah, fuck,” He ruts harder and harder. Saliva pastes across your cheeks and your throat sears from his relentless fucking. “That mouth isn’t so fucking bad. Fuck. And those tits. You fucking play with those tits.”

He straddles just above your chest. You bring your hands up and cup your tits in your hands. You babble and squeeze, squirming as he pumps into your mouth.

“Like that. Huh? Listen to you. Sounds like he don’t fuck you good enough. He doesn’t punish this mouth how it should be,” he snarls and puffs as you feel the tension cord through him, “oh, yeah... yeah... yeah...”

His breath rattles and he quakes. He yanks your head up so your mouth is right against his pelvis. He rocks slightly, suffocating you, and suddenly, twitches. You feel him explode in your throat. His cums flood you, rising into your mouth and coming out your nose as you choke and hack.

You quake and cough as he pulls out of you, inch by inch. Your body lurches as you barely hold back a swell of nausea. He raises himself over you, his dick softening slowly as it shines with spit and semen. He groans and cradles his balls.

“Actually, you aren't entirely useless.” He taunts.

#ransom drysdale #dark ransom drysdale #dark!ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x reader #drabble #knives out #sleepover #pajama party

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kaylee68 · 1 year ago

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One of my favourite things to think about is the rest of the batfam all having their own ‘Brucie Wayne’ personas. So here’s me listing how I imagine the main family members would front to the public.

Dick

I think would be very similar to Bruce with the same air-headed personality. As far as the internets concerned he can’t spell orange and pretends not to know any of the 50 states let alone which one he lives in. He also uses the fact that he never officially finished college to his advantage. As a kid he was more eccentric and people just knew him as that little kid whose constantly high of sugar and lollipops. Not much changes when becomes an adult.

Of course like father like son and he is also extremely charismatic. His persona is a little more goofy than Bruce’s and he’s known as the Wayne’s resident gymnast, at least in the air. He’s made a habit of acting as though any and all fine motor skills come to an absolute stop the moment he isn’t doing some complex flip, or cartwheel. There are serval videos on YouTube of him tripping over air, spilling drinks over his shirt, and stumbling into several guests, only half of these were faked. He also has a reputation of being an absolutely insane drunk. He went viral on twitter for doing a triple backflip in the middle of a gala which resulted in a shattered punch bowl, several traumatised guests and a fake news report claiming he’d died which sent the city into a riot for the next 24 hours all because he was a little bit tipsy.

Jason

Jason was pretty young when he ‘died’. Before hand he was the happy go lucky kid. With stars in his eyes and more energy than a Chihuahua hiked up on red bull and pure, liquified blue raspberry. Of course you had the occasional leech who saw in some news report that he used to be a street kid which resulted in several rumours about his ‘horrid violent nature’ but all it took was actually meeting him for most to completely disregard this.

After his death he doesn’t hang around the rest of the family much. Especially not in public and out of masks. However there is the occasional day (once every millennia or so) where he’ll stroll up to whatever part or gala or social event the Wayne’s are hosting that day, with his foolproof, impenetrable disguise Tayson Jodd absolutely no relation to Brucies dead kid, nor the elusive red hood who has a hate account dedicated to his very existence.

His whole thing tends to be a regular upstanding member of society. He acts completely normal. This wasn’t always the case. He used to change it every time he went to the parties, either acting as some depressed, lonely rich guy or an alcoholic and on one particularly memorable occasion a closeted drag Queen. However one time he showed up without a persona pre made and ready to go and just decided to wing it.

However Tim Drakes insane paranoia meant he stayed up a good 3 weeks after that night just to make sure Jason wasn’t trying anything and when Red hood found out he found it absolutely hilarious and resolved to be as respectable as possible while also generating maximum suspicion for all other members of his family.

Stephanie Brown

Although not officially adopted by the Wayne’s most people have gotten used to seeing her just roll up with the Wayne’s and it didn’t take long for social media to realise that Brucie had emotionally adopted her, if not legally. At first Steph didn’t really understand the need for a persona. She was already fine with keeping her actual personality and not turning it off for the cameras.

It took seeing Jason, who was having an absolute blast with his public persona to open her mind to the range of possibilities and she spent a full 3 months crafting a personality from scratch (putting that psychology degree to good use).

She cycled through a couple. Rich party girl, serious career woman, ditzy idiot. But eventually she landed on scheming socialite. She saw some tabloids slandering her for being Tim’s ex and although the rest of the family was not happy she took it and ran with it. Landing herself in the circles of the most gossip loving, shit talking, hot woman she could find.

She makes sure she exudes villainy at all times and has been seen eyeing Timothy Drake from across the room, stroking a cat (though no one knew where she got it from) and sipping a martini. Although she doesn’t particularly like how cruel some of her companions are she finds no greater joy than passively aggressively remarking about how Donna is wearing the same heels she was 3 years ago and oh my is she running low on funds? She was born to instigate and takes every opportunity to do so.

Tim Drake

If Tim is known for anything then it’s his ability to appear as though everything has gone to his exact calculations on the outside while internally screaming and just completely winging whatever half brained plan comes to mind. But one forgets, he isn’t just a Wayne but a Drake. Son of Janet Drake at that.

As a kid he was very much a mamas boy and would replicate her cold calculating air to the best abilities of a 10 year old boy. As he grew up however he realised that he much preferred letting people underestimate him. So in the end he settled on the stoner.

It was pretty unexpected for most of his family. Bar Dick who embraced it with all the reverence of a chaotic older sibling. Of course Tim Drake being as meticulous as he is meant when he made this persona built it from the ground up. He gave himself a favourite drug, a fake dealer, and he methodically updates his account balance every week, taking out just enough that it looks like he’s been buying.

Not only does this have the added benefit of explaining the random times he’s passed out in the middle of a party or those random compilations of him on YouTube simply staring into the abyss for hours on end, but it also means he had to try way less than his siblings when it comes to presentation. If Dick or Bruce show up with even so much as a slightly ruffled collar the tabloids will go on for weeks about the mystery guy or girl they definitely slept with. But when Tim does it, they just laugh. He gets a pat on the head and a glass of water shoved into his hands and no one thinks anything more.

And if he can also use it as an excuse for a few extra minuets of sleep then whose going to stop him?

Cassandra Cain

Cass didn’t need to do much of anything. When she first arrived in Gotham she was small, quite and not very well versed in social customs so it was practically written in the stars that she’d become an instant fan favourite. However unlike most of her siblings most of her fans aren’t focused on her what she’s been doing, or with who, but rather on trying to spot her.

She’s some aloof, mysterious figure to them and she’s also become a bit of a where’s Waldo meme. News reporters will post overview shots of the huge hall the guest are occupying, the grounds of the manor, the well kept lawns, the roofs, and the internet will go crazy trying to find her. At first it was difficult but only because she kept to herself, you’d find her in a corner of the room, or hiding behind one of the taller guests but ever since she realised what was going on she’s been making a conscious effort to make it as difficult as possible.

Some of her hiding spots include: under the table, the roof, inside the fountain, disguised as Dick Grayson, a statue, on the chandelier, and somehow as one of the reporters, camera and all. It’s become a bit of a game to see who can find her first and she remains Gothams favourite Wayne.

Duke Thomas

Duke isn’t really sure what to make of this whole public persona thing. He finds hiding such a big part of himself a little strange, and doesn’t much enjoy the idea of putting on a mask for others. So he does what he does best and puts the rest of the Wayne’s to shame with his sound logic.

He’s just himself. And somehow manages to cause the biggest impact. The people aren’t used to rich people not being overly eccentric. This is Gotham after all! And Duke Thomas’ actual personality is not exactly something they were expecting.

This is the same man who raised an army of teenage armies in the absence of his hero. To call him impulsive would be an understatement. Also he very much enjoys ‘eating the rich’ so to speak. He used his powers to convince one particularly nasty man that he needed full psychiatric care by randomly disappearing whenever he was in their line of sight.

He hangs out with Dick a lot, but only so when the worst of the Gotham socialites approach he can make them feel as uncomfortable as possible by questioning their thoughts and feelings on the working class, living conditions and all the other stuff they usually couldn’t care less about which leaves them scrambling for an answer that won’t completely ruin their reputations. Although he’s been branded ‘the responsible one’ that’s only because he presents himself as such to reporters. Most of the people attending the galas live in fear of him ever approaching them.

Damian Wyane

Being the youngest meant that people already had expectations by the time Damian showed up. Although most had no idea where the kid came from that didn’t stop them from making assumptions, and the rumours circulating from before he was officially introduced range from a mini Bruce Wayne to raging alcoholic. And yes, these were published when reporters knew damn well he was 10 years old maximum.

When the public do finally see him for the first time it doesn’t take them long to craft a persona for him. Damian of course sees this whole thing as beneath him, he doesn’t understand why he would need to hide himself, he didn’t train with the league for years to just not show of his skills. Dick tries to get him to think of it like training, as though he were on an undercover mission. This works a little too well and now he takes it so incredibly seriously it’s hard for the others not to laugh.

He arrived, squeezed in between Brucie Wayne who was blowing kisses to the camera, Dick Grayson doing a handstand, Tim Drake who looked absolutely blitzed and Stephanie Brown who was manically rubbing her hands together. Cass nowhere to be found and Duke giving his classic sunny smile to the camera.

So of course people realise this kid must be the adult. There’s jokes about how Damian must be the one doing the Wayne’s taxes, about how he probably drives Bruce to work, and other such things. Which is only further cemented by the kid himself. But he also doesn’t talk much (Dick said if he had nothing nice to say he shouldn’t say anything), and a few (illegally taken) photos show him drawing, as well as his small army of pets and so people are torn between this kid who is clearly far too mature for his age and this cute baby of a child who likes fluffy animals and crayons.

Damian is disgusted by both sides, but there isn’t much he can do about it and resolves instead to fuck with everyone by leaning into it and alternating on a seemingly random basis between clueless child and grown adult in a 10 year olds body. It mostly ends up terrifying the rest of his family because occasionally Damian (who several of them watched kill a man) will come up smiling and demand to be placed on their shoulders, and other times the same kid (who found a cow a decided immediately he was a vegetarian) will be found sipping straight vodka and going on about the good old days with people 8x his age as though he were some drunken world war 2 veteran.

#bruce wayne #richard grayson #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #stephanie brown #cassandra cain #duke thomas #damian wayne #Public persona #batfam #they were born to terrorise the rich #dc comics #brucie wayne #Tayson Jodd

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descendant-of-truth · 2 months ago

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I think the reputation Kingdom Hearts has is a prime example of something I've been thinking about recently, which is: if you go into a piece of media without taking it seriously from the get-go, any of its attempts to be serious will come across as funny.

Let's be real, KH is viewed by the general public as a bit silly, right? Like, you're telling me there's an RPG series where you play as an anime boy but your party members are Goofy and Donald Freakin' Duck? And it's filled with complicated plotlines about clones and hearts and time travel?

The crux of what makes people not take the game seriously is the fact that it's a Disney game that wants to be taken seriously. Those two things combined instinctively make people want to laugh at it; after all, Disney is just kids' stuff, it's not meant to be taken that seriously. Even if you're a fan of Disney, it's so inherently different from something like Final Fantasy that the tonal clash alone creates a certain expectation.

That expectation being: this is going to be stupid, and funny because it's stupid. The same level of joke as making cute characters swear or use guns, I think.

Kingdom Hearts is, of course, a lot more sincere than that. But if you're not willing to meet it halfway, then its sincerity becomes the joke.

Of course, even KH fans like to laugh at how the dialogue reads when it's taken out of context, which takes me to something I've actually wanted to talk about for a bit:

Data Sora: Mickey! It's Riku. They put bugs in him!

Make no mistake, I'm not saying people are wrong to joke about stuff like this. But the whiplash I felt at seeing this moment become a meme was kind of insane, because it genuinely never struck me as a funny thing to hear Sora say.

Using the term "bug" to refer to a computer bug felt completely natural, and it's a much more tangible term than "glitch" which brings to mind more like, environmental or physics-based glitches. Similar deal with the word "virus," even if that would've sounded cooler.

But either way, by this point in the story, they've been talking about bugs with complete seriousness for over an hour. They've been a corrupting force that you have to fight the whole game, and when Data Riku is injected with the stuff, he screams before freezing up and staring dead-eyed into space, as shown in that screenshot.

That's freaky! And a really scary thing for Sora to have to see happen to his best friend!

So him telling Mickey what happened in a panicked voice didn't even register as a line to take special note of, because why would it? What else was he supposed to say? I was way too invested and stressed out to care about what it would sound like out of context; I was IN the context! And the context had me on the edge of my seat!

This is the case with a lot of lines in this series that get paraded around as evidence that the writing in KH is sooo chaotic, so silly, so embarrassing, so cringe. I'm not saying that every line of dialogue comes across as totally natural, the series is capable of taking me out of the experience because of something being stilted or awkward. But rarely ever when it's trying to be sincere or dramatic.

Replica Riku: Because I'm you. Riku: No, I'M me. Replica Riku: "I'm me," he says.

This is another example. When I actually sit back and watch just that first bit of the cutscene, yeah, it sounds a little ridiculous. The back-and-forth happening here is just redundant enough to follow the "rule of threes" to comedy, so I get why people get a good chuckle out of it when it's isolated to just this.

It did not feel ridiculous after watching the series of harrowing events Replica Riku goes through before getting to that point. It certainly stops being ridiculous when he follows it up with this speech:

Replica Riku: Must be nice being real. A fake like me could never get away with saying that. That's right, I'm a phony, a fake! The way I look, the way I feel, everything I remember! And even this newfound power! I thought by finding some new strength, I could finally be someone - someone who's not at all you! But... nothing changes... I'm still just empty! Everything about me is borrowed. As long as you're around, I'll never be more than a shadow!

I bring this up to segue into another point: even KH's fans have a hard time moving past their perceptions of what it should be as a Respectable Video Game. Particularly whenever it does something that's just a little too weird, or lame, for the average mainstream.

Something like, oh I dunno... putting relevant story content on handhelds?

While this wasn't intentional, both of the examples I've used so far have come from games that were originally made for the Nintendo DS and GBA respectively. I just used screenshots from their Playstation versions because I like how their body language is animated in them.

(I also wasn't intending to make both examples about Riku, it just kind of happened)

But anyway, handheld games are also something that's generally considered to be "less legitimate" than their console counterparts. This isn't to say that handheld gaming isn't extremely popular in its own right, because it is! Series that stick to handhelds, like Pokemon, are loved for their portability.

But outside of some exceptions like Fire Emblem, if a series has games on both types of systems, the handheld ones will always be considered "less mainline" by default, regardless of what's actually in them. For an example of this, I would point to the Zelda series, and how little its handheld titles are talked about compared to its console releases. Furthermore, the Link's Awakening remake (while technically on a handheld-console hybrid) decided to ditch the pixel art in favor of going full 3D, which showcases a slightly different but related stigma.

So what happens when Kingdom Hearts, a game that debuted in 3D on a home console, starts putting the majority of its story onto handhelds?

Well, a massive chunk of the fanbase starts calling them "spinoffs," of course! Even though the ratio of console releases to handheld ones literally looks like this:

(That's a 6:8 ratio, for reference, counting KH4 and Missing Link which haven't been released yet. It's even more slanted in the handheld's favor when you consider the short length of 0.2 and especially Melody of Memory in terms of story content)

And now we still have people talking about how we waited 13+ years for KH3 after KH2, as if nothing really important happened in between those two games, or as if a game arbitrarily having a number 3 on it is going to make it more important than everything else. And this is said by people who DO CARE about the games that were released during that time! What is happening!!

People loooove to act like you can skip over games like Coded or Union Cross and they especially love to complain that a series like this would even consider putting story content on a phone. And in such a cute art style?? A cute 2D art style??? How in the wORLD am I supposed to take something sEriOUsLY when it's on... the most accessible gaming device out there??? For free?????

(I'm willing to bet that some people will be slightly more inclined to play Missing Link because it's in 3D, but most are definitely going to just be asking "why isn't this on consoles" as if the story isn't intertwined with the gameplay format they chose at all)

And so we run into the same problem as the people who haven't even played the games: dismissing something as not really worth investing their time into based on surface-level judgements. Because even if you're down with KH's brand of storytelling, there are other barriers you could have to the series that it will repeatedly ask you to lower, and you might not be willing to.

Kingdom Hearts is a series that demands you get over your biases about what counts as real art to be taken seriously, or it WILL leave you behind in the narrative. Don't want to play a phone game? Don't want to even look up the story on YouTube? Too bad, it's required reading for the next ~Numbered Title~ that you respect so much. Good luck being confused the whole time.

Don't want to play a DS game? And you won't even watch the condensed movie version that we put in our Respectable Console Collection? Okay, but don't come crying to us when its recurring narrative themes seem like they came out of nowhere later on.

This is a series that does not have spinoffs, and trying to explain that to someone who hasn't played it makes it sound absurd. "The mobile games are important?" a non-fan asks, laughing at the concept. "Yeah, it's pretty stupid," the fan responds with a laugh of their own, because even after everything, how can they really engage with this story on its own terms when it makes such silly decisions? When it has such cringey titles? When it's so embarrassing to like?

I think I might've strayed a bit from the initial thesis statement of this post, but my point is that Kingdom Hearts exposes a lot of elitism in people regarding games and art. It pushes the limits of what it can expect its audience to take seriously, delivering purposeful, engaging storytelling no matter if it's 2D or 3D, a Triple-A Video Game on your Playstation console or a free-to-play phone game. Which makes it pretty darn neat, I'd say.

And also sometimes I get thrown off by what becomes a meme, because I get so invested in the story that I forget things can be funny out of context

#kingdom hearts #analysis #meta #KH is like. 'I am cringe but I am free' incarnate #You CANNOT be weighed down by how cringey the series can seem if you have any hope of engaging with it properly #Which is something I'd say is true of like... most things honestly #Including life itself since we're already getting deep about it #But for the purpose of this post we're focusing on how it applies to KH

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snailsgoingdowntown · 2 years ago

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Guilt Tripping - Yan! Diluc

Yandere Diluc x Fem! Reader

part 1 of the “Baby Trapping” series

Warnings: Toxic relationship, general yandere themes, guilt tripping (I think), emotional manipulation, slight victim blaming (I think?), drugging, implied future physical violence (Not towards reader), possessive and obsessive thoughts and behavior, overprotectiveness, overbearing actions, controlling actions/mindset, unhealthy and toxic mindset, paranoia, implied Yandere! Albedo (Towards a different reader of perhaps the same mini-series of this).

Not sfw warnings: Baby trapping, dub-c0n/non-c0n, unprotected sEx, cumming inside without permission, unconsensual and unethical use of aphrodisiacs, vaginal fingering, clothed grinding, loss of virginity (both parties and totally didn't forget to add this warning until now)

Diluc is straight up gaslighting himself in this. He’s aware of how awful he is but keeps justifying it lmao.

Please tell me if I missed any warnings that are needed.

Disclaimer: I DO NOT condone any of the toxic behavior and thoughts that may take place in this work of fiction. None of this should be romanticize or even considered normal as it is very toxic and very dangerous. If you find yourself in such a situation, please seek help if able to.

DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT

WARNING: DUE TO TUMBLR’S SHITTY TAGGING SYSTEM, NOT EVERY TRIGGER WARNING WILL BE TAGGED, SO PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS THAT ARE WRITTEN ABOVE. THANK YOU.

MINORS AND AGLESS/BLANK BLOGS DNI OR YOU WILL BE BLOCKED. THANK YOU.

Unedited.

Word count: 5134k

===

Diluc was aware that he could be… overbearing, at times. He’s aware that his presence can be suffocating, that he can be a bit delusional at times, and that he’s a bit controlling when it comes to you. But be doesn’t mean to do that on purpose – you just manage to bring out both the worse and the best out of him.

Whether or not you’re aware of that fact is up for debate.

He’s been preparing for the day you snap and talk back, or to take some ‘much needed’ space from the relationship. He can’t deny that your sanity is slowly withering away the more you deal with him. Again, he doesn’t mean to make you so stressed.

He just wants what’s best for you, as long as you come back into his arms. There are understandings at times, where you listen instead of charging away like a bull. He knows that you know he cares deeply for you, loves you to the moon and back. That he’d be willing to do almost anything for you.

Anything but this.

“I’m breaking up with you.”

One sentence, five words, is all it takes for his words to come crashing down around him. ‘I need a break’ implies you’ll be back after a week or so. It’s happened once or twice throughout your entire two years of your relationship. And it never lasted more than a week, max.

Diluc can feel the thin thread snapping like a nose around a neck. He swears that the world comes to a halt at your words, seeing nothing but white. Is he undergoing shock? Perhaps he heard you wrong. Yeah, that’s it – you must have said something else. A prank maybe? Or maybe you mixed up your words.

“What… what do you mean?” He hates the way his voice cracks, how shaky his hands become, even when they’re clenched hard enough to snap metal into two. Your facial expression doesn’t show any signs of playfulness.

There’s nothing playful about this situation.

You let out a sigh, fingers massaging your temple. “I said… I’m breaking up with you. I can’t… I can’t do this anymore. I can’t deal with you anymore.” Your voice cracks, and there’s a silent sob. There’s a huff, an intake of air.

You’re trying your best not to break down in front of him. And he’s doing the same, fists clenching and unclenching as he thinks of something to say. What should he say? That you can’t leave? It’ll only make things more complicated, making you hostile towards him.

He can’t have that. He just can’t. but even so, he finds himself about to utter those words out loud. He bites his tongue.

“…I thought I was good to you. While… I do understand that I can get overbearing at times… I thought I was a good lover to you regardless of.” He tries to keep himself in check. Diluc was nothing but a good gentleman in your eyes, so he acts as such. Although, that illusion may be gone now.

“That’s the problem! You think you’re a good boyfriend. But you’re not. you’re so… overbearing and controlling. I can’t even talk to people you don’t approve of!” Your own thread had seemingly snapped, leaving nothing more than rage behind. Quite, dull rage that’s too exhausting to come out at once.

“You say it’s for my own good… that I need your protection…”

“I never said that- “

“You implied it. Every. Single. Time. you always imply it.”

There’s nothing but silence. There’s a guilty conscience. He can’t ignore it, but he won’t address it. Because that means he’ll have to let go. And he won’t, not even in death, where hell will surely drag him down. He’ll drag you if he has to.

“We can… let’s just talk about this, okay? No need to make any rash decisions.” He’s talking out of his ass right now. “It’s… been a stressful week. It’s late and we both got out of work not too long ago. Let’s just… how about you come over?”

You don’t say anything, not at first. A glimmer of hope. Yes, everything will go back to normal, over a glass or two, ending with you being a whimpering mess as he grinds against you. Just like always.

“No. I can’t… I won’t do that. It always has the same outcome anyway. We never ‘talk’, you just sweet talk your way out, and it ends with some type of sexual activity.” You shake your head, taking a step back. He takes a step forward.

It feels wrong for you to stand so far away. Alien. You should be next to him, no, in his arms as he soothes you. Reality and fantasy don’t mix well, he realizes. “Please,” he tries again, choking on air.

It can’t end like this. It can’t end at all.

“Diluc… I can’t. I just can’t. I know it may be hard for you to understand but, whether you realize it or not… you treat me like a doll. A pretty, fragile, glass doll.” You don’t look him in the eyes, probably can’t.

To be fair, it felt worse on your own end. You loved this man. You wanted to marry him. But it’s in past tense and you’re not sure if you can keep up this happy façade. He’s nothing but controlling at this point, overprotective, suffocating. You can’t live in denial anymore.

Another sigh, another sob. With every step he takes towards you, you take one back. There’s an invisible wall between you, too hard to shatter. At least completely.

“Hey… let’s talk again in a week. When the steam blows off, okay?” You try not to break, he sees it. The way your body tenses, the slight tumble. He makes an effort to not point it out. “Please?”

And you cave, breaking down, wailing like a child. You don’t move away, only flinching as he closes in on you, gently and slowly wrapping his arms around you. his grip on you is loose, not wanting to chase you away. Gentle, he must be gentle.

It’s always worked in the past. He just needs to tweak a few things to guarantee victory. Anything for you, no matter how shady it may be. His morals become dubious when it comes to you.

A few minutes pass before you answer.

“Alright.”

Truthfully, you didn’t want to go, your resolve going down the drain whenever it came to you. But you had already promised you would, weak in that moment. But he knew. He knew that you would eventually succumb to his wishes. It happens every time.

And it ends with heated kisses, hands exploring each other’s bodies, promises to wait for the full act after marriage huffed into your ears. Despite the bulge straining in his pants, hazy eyes that kept looking at your kiss swollen lips, he never did anything you were uncomfortable with. And for that, you were grateful. But it doesn’t excuse his other behavior.

Something didn’t feel right. You were nothing short of tense, weary of what’s to come. Would he try to pull something? Or procced to guilt trip you once more, as unknowingly as usual? You could never tell with him, despite dating for two years.

Two years and he became a different person.

No. Beneath that gentlemanly exterior lies a control, obsessive and possessive freak. And you fell for it, the charm, the words, the looks. You dug your own grave without even knowing. And now it’s time to dig your way out, no matter how painful it may be.

You just hope your resolve will stay strong.

It must.

Diluc was nervous. It was more common these days, a nervous Diluc. He can’t help it but to be nervous around you. You were just so pretty, adorable, irresistible. And there was a time where you thought the same, where you couldn’t even take your eyes off of him. And yet, you don’t anymore.

He’s aware why. It’s because of him. But you need to understand was for your protection. He has too many enemies, there’s too much danger in the outside world. Surly, you would come around eventually, right?

Wrong. He was so, so wrong. He should have kept up with the gentle approach, no matter the amount of years it might have taken. It’s not too late to restart… right?

Just act the way you always portrayed him as. His mask has slipped too much too quickly. And now, he needs to fix everything as quickly as possible. The question is how to.

He glances at the wine bottle. A little drug as curiosity of Sir Albedo… a new and up coming drug. An aphrodisiac is what he called it. It was still in its developmental stages, but harmless. He was even given the right dose.

A questioning look in the alchemist’s eyes, no concerns were voiced. Most likely thought it wasn’t his business. And besides… even the esteemed Alchemist Albedo Kreideprinz had skeletons in his closet. Likeminded people must stick together, right?

And thus, the aphrodisiac was handed to him under the table, and now in this ‘new’ and ‘unopened’ bottle of wine. The cork was a new one, the previous one hastily thrown into the trash, covered with other discarded things. Not a smooth cover-up, but one you wouldn’t notice. And, if you were to ask for juice, he even drugged that beforehand.

He flinches slightly when a servant comes up to him, announcing your appearance. He takes in a deep breath before grabbing the bottle and two glasses, making his way to the study. When he gets there, he pauses. Would he be able to pull this off?

If you do ask for it, he has your consent, right? Yes, you wanted to save yourself for marriage but…

He shakes his head, ridding himself of those thoughts. He’ll back down if he thinks about too much. So, he takes a deep breath, straightens himself. His feet feel heavy as he walks into the room. He keeps the door open.

“(name). You came.”

You jolt at that, whipping your head around to see his figure at the doorway.

“Yes… just for a bit. This isn’t a casual visit, after all.” You built a wall around yourself, trying to smile but failing. He doesn’t comment on it.

“Ah. I suppose that’s… right.” Awkward silence, your hands tightly clasping together. His own grip on the glasses and bottle are tight as well. Swiftly, he places the objects down on the table in front of you. Everything has to be perfect. This night needs to end on a good note.

“Wine?” he asks, eyeing the way your jaw tenses as you hesitate to answer. You want to say no, he can see it, feel it. And hopefully, you won’t. His legs are already shaking like a newborn foal’s.

“I… sure.” A quiet sigh of relieve, and he opens the bottle, a loud ‘pop’ echoing in the room. You don’t take your eyes off of it. You’re weary of him. And he doesn’t have the right to complain or even feel offended.

Because you were right to be weary. To be weary of him.

He pours you a glass and himself one. He’s going to take the drug with you. God, he’s already silently regretting this. Not because he’s tricking you (although that’s part of it), but because he’ll have to explain, in detail (something he dreads, but a favor is a favor) of the results. He hates himself for being used a test subject and ragging you into it.

He can’t feel bad, considering he was the one who chose this route.

“Thank you…” you say as he passes a glass to you. He sits in front of you, the plush chair soft against him. He takes a sip.

“So… about our relationship… do you truly want to end it? We can work through this together.” He croaks out, trying his best not to ramble. He takes a deep breath, calming his nerves. He can do this.

“… I’m not sure if this relationship is savable. Two years and you’ve just gotten… worse. Much worse than you have gotten better. It’s like you’ve been possessed.” He can see your eyes water up, but you don’t let them fall.

He wants to wipe them away.

“What do you mean?” He’s never felt so scared in his life. He hates this. He hates himself. “It’s just… I know I can get overbearing, and I promise that I don’t do it on purpose-“

You cut him off, “That’s the problem. You don’t do it on purpose. It’s harder to resent you that way.”

Resent him? What do you mean by that?

“I don’t… I don’t know what to do. You’re… you used to be a good boyfriend. Someone I wanted to marry… but you’re not that same person anymore. And I’m not sure if we can fix this… if you can fix yourself. I’m not a therapist… yet you treated me as one for years.”

Your shoulders slack and you don’t make an effort to look at him. You don’t make an effort to drink the wine either.

He can feel his heart breaking. What should he do? What can he do? Crying (a rare sight indeed) won’t do anything. It’ll only prove you right if he cries and begs for you to reconsider. He needs you to drink the wine. A good amount of it.

He takes another swing, enough to the point the glass is almost empty. Too much at once, he hasn’t even eaten yet. He wants to eat you. But not when you’re crying like this.

“I’m… I’m sorry. I wasn’t aware that I was that… inconsiderate.” Ever so slowly, he takes small steps towards you. You don’t resist when he gets on his knees, gently placing his head on your lap. His arms wrap around your legs. And, almost as if it was natural, your hand comes town to thread fingers through his hair.

Even when you ‘resent’ him, you still comfort him. You really were too good for him. But it’s because of that he doesn’t want to let go. No. he’d never let you go. He’ll drag you to hell if he has to.

“… To think the esteemed Diluc would beg on his knees… hah,” a humorless laugh that shakes him through his core. You sound tired, so, so tired. You’re really going to give up on him. Was he really that bad? Sure, maybe he overshared, at times, and was a bit controlling, but…

He never hit you. Never raised his voice at you.

He’s in denial. He doesn’t want to admit to his mistakes right now. He’ll do it (probably) after you two make up. He’ll do it once you say you won’t leave, that you won’t give up on him, on the relationship. You’re all he has left.

His father’s dead, his ‘brother’ is a spy, he can’t really get along with anyone on an emotional level. Anyone except you. You know this, so why are you putting him through this? Can’t you see he needs you?

God helps the poor soul would dare take you away.

“… I’m sorry. I really am,” useless, he’s so useless right now. Helpless, he hates himself, he hates you. “I… can’t lose you. I love you, you know that, right?” Like he wasn’t the one pushing you away with his behavior and actions.

He’s a horrible person, a dreadful and emotional abusive boyfriend. The naked eye can’t see it, but a trained one can. Likeminded people can. The victim can.

“Diluc… sit down, okay? You’re going to make yourself sick,” you run your fingers through his red mop of hair before retreating it. No, no, no, you can’t do that. You just can’t.

You have to drink the wine. You need to understand he’s protecting you. You need to understand he needs you. So, stay, please.

Don’t make things even more complicated.

“… do you love me?” He looks up, eyes glossy and he watches as your strong façade crumble. He was your weakness as you were his. You’re perfect for each other, however toxic the relationship may be.

“I… I don’t know anymore. I feel like I love you, but I know I shouldn’t.” Shaking your head, you gently push at his shoulders. The effort is weak, almost meaningless. He gives a squeeze before getting up and returning to his seat.

It’s when he sits down, head falling into his hands, when you take a swing. He hears you slam the glass on the mahogany wood. Hope lights up in his chest, but even so, it feels so wrong. But he needs to do this. For him. For you.

How selfish of a person he was.

“… I can’t promise I won’t fall back into the habit, but –“

“You said that last time. And here we are, again. You say you’ll do better, that you’ll listen. Sure, you do, but only for a week. And then the cycle repeats.” You sigh out, now crying, finally breaking down despite everything.

Sobs, ugly sobs that he hates to hear. He’s not sure when he got up, or how long he’s been hugging you, but he knows that you need comfort. Maybe not from him, but he’s the only one here anyway. The servants are outside, cleaning the yard, tending to the grapes, shooing of pests.

Just you and him. No-one will hear, and even if they did… who are they to question their boss? Money talks.

You stay like that, for a while. Crying in his arms as he strokes your hair. He’s not sure when you had stopped, and completely forgotten about the drug.

He only remembers it when his body starts to heat up. And the same must be said for you, as you’re quivering in his grasp. The way you quiver whenever he drags you across his crotch, erection making contact with your clothed pussy.

Like right now, your hips rolling against his as he practically dragged you to the couch in the study once you started to kiss out of pure lust. You’re panting above him, eyes shut tight. Maybe you didn’t want to see him. He hates it, but that’s okay. As long as you’re here, with him, and not thinking of another man.

“Fuck… my body’s hot. I’m scared yet I can’t stop… did you put something in the drink?” You question him, voice broken and breathy as you keep rolling your hips. Harder, faster, more friction, you need him as much as he needs you. He’ll get you, and you’ll have him.

Like it’s supposed to be.

“Are you… mmh… that weary of me?” You’re far too gone to properly hear him, chasing pleasure above answers. His gloved fingers tug at your skirt, wanting it off. He wants to see you bare. Patience... patience, he tells himself.

A squeal, mouth open and he can’t help but kiss you. saliva everywhere, any pretense of a breakup gone. For now. And yet you both don’t care, delving into the pits of pleasure that’ll never be enough. He bites your lips hard enough to draw blood, you claw at his neck deep enough to see crimson.

You hurt and take, hurt and take. You break his heart, he’ll break your mind on his cock. Just… be good.

“Diluc… wedding… I want to wait – oh! – but… ah… not sure if I can…” you’re groping yourself, thumb ribbing at where your nipple would be. Too many clothes, hot, clit throbbing while grinding against him like there’s no tomorrow. Diluc takes this chance to tease you, just a bit.

“Wedding… you still want to marry me?” There’s a slight teasing to it, and he proceeds to kiss your neck. Gently, gently, so gentle you want more. He wants to drive you crazy. “But, of course, if you want it now, I won’t say no…”

Another moan, another messy kiss. Your lips are raw by now, and you’re not sure when he dragged the front of your shirt down, sucking on the bare skin before him. He bites your neck, leaving marks, he gropes your breasts, your hands now tugging at his hair.

He hisses at the sting, but it only drives him to do more. His free hand dives under your dress, the skirt of it wrinkled now.

“Diluc… please, fuck, I need you,” you breathe out, grinding against his hand as he teases you through your underwear. Slowly, he brings his hand back, using his teeth to take his glove off. Almost, he’s almost there. He needs to loosen you up. Hopefully, hopefully this drug will help with the pain.

Ah. Blood.

He needs to do this in the bedroom, easier to change the sheets.

You’re naked in no time, and despite the drug running through your veins like fire, you’re still scared. Very scared, and he feels so horrible about it. and yet, yet he can’t stop himself for shit. He’s horrible, shitty, controlling, obsessive, possessive, and desperate. Paranoid to a fault, he plans on tying you to him via family.

It’s hard to raise a child on your own. Reputation is important, and everyone would lose respect for you, for a good while at first. And besides… they would know who the father was. If they inherit his features, be it the red hair or ruby eyes, they’ll know. They’ll blame one of you, both of you, taking one side or the other.

Thus, it’s just overall easier to stay together, avoiding controversy. A horrible and risky plan. But you would need the support, the funds, the father. It’s harder, nearly impossible to run away from him in such a state.

“Hey… it’ll be okay. I’ll take it slow, alright?” He reassures you, smiling down at you gently. He’s always imagined you like this – a panting mess, lips kiss swollen, hair sprayed around his pillow and your hair. Bite marks everywhere, nipples tendered from being sucked on so much.

He’ll make a mental note to be more gentle next time. But for now, he trails down his hand, fingers ghosting over your burning skin. Shaky breaths, and he can’t take his eyes off of the way you stare downwards. He’s naked too, his own hickies littering his neck like a necklace.

“G-gentle…,” you breathe out, legs shaking in both fear and anticipation. You can’t wait, and neither can he. So he doesn’t, tracking your slick slit once before slowly entering. A gasp, and h looks up to make sure you weren’t in too much pain.

Instead, he’s met with the sight of you biting your lips, pleasure written all over your face. The drug works, it’s helping with the pain. Making things far easier than he thought it would be. He’ll make sure to thank Albedo to the moon and back.

“Diluc…” He’s brought back to reality when you whimper his name, and he softly shushes you. If you say his name like that one more time, he might just slip in without any prep. Without any consideration.

“Shh… there’s no need to rush. Let’s try to take our time, okay?” He kisses your forehead, finger curling slightly inside you. The way you arch your back is heavenly, the drug making you far more sensitive. “I’ll take good care of you. Promise.”

Nodding, you relax, allowing him to add a second finger. It feels rushed despite his words, but you don’t comment on it. You can’t, not when he’s curling them oh so deliciously. And he knows this, he’s not completely lost in lust just yet. He needs to drown you in pleasure, drive you crazy with it before he succumb to his own desire completely.

Just a bit more.

The squelching echoes in his room, bouncing off the walls. His ribs had become a drum, his heart the stick. Small, needy breaths that leave your lips, crying out when he curls his fingers at a certain angle. Oh. He found it.

Your g-spot.

He’s heard of it, and thought it was rubbish at first. Until Adelinde smacked his head when he suggested such a thing. The Head Maid made sure to educate him on sex that day, showing diagrams and pictures, along with books written about the subject. He’s almost entirely forgotten about it.

“There?” he asks, repeating the action once more. You nod your head several times and in quick succession – too lucid to properly beg, too desperate to fully think it thoroughly. “Such a needy little thing,” a third finger elicits a hiss from you, causing him to pause. He waits until you give him the green light.

“It – it feels weird… but good at the same time. Is this normal?” Croaking, you’re croaking out sentences now, and Diluc resists the urge to kiss you until you run out of breath. Your fingers grasp at his shoulders, trembling slightly. He can’t tell if it’s from fear or pleasure.

For his own sanity, he hopes it’s the latter.

“I’m… not sure. I think it is. Just tell me if it’s too much, and I’ll slow down.”

He didn’t say he would stop.

Diluc sees the worry in your eyes, the questions he won’t answer, and he feels guilty. It’s far too late to stop, and even if you were to ask him of it, he wouldn’t be able to. So he gives you the illusion of choice, and from the way your eyes travel down to where he’s fingering you, he can only guess you chose to ignore the reasoning in your head. What a good girl you are for and to him. Like always.

“Diluc… Diluc…” your eyes shut tight, breathing heavier as he fastens his pace, fingers pumping in and out while curling all the same. You need this too, right? He can’t force you if you were the one who asked for it.

Your belly tightens, and hips grind against the hell of his palm. You’re almost there, he thinks. You’re becoming wild, all pretense of rationally gone with the wind. He’s there, he’s there, you’re there, shivering in the palm of his hand. Like you should be.

“Ah, ah, fuck!” One more buck of your hips and he feels something wet. Upon looking down, he notices something red, very thing and small, mixed with a clear liquid. Did you cum? He feels bad for making you bleed already*.

Your chest heaves, and for a moment, he’s afraid you’ll come back to your sense. You’ll hate him for sure. But his own body is burning, cock twitching, and he’s going to die if you resist. Please, just make everything simple and easy. Please, for both of your sakes.

He gives you time to recover despite the urge to fuck you silly. Patience, patience, at least pretend to be a gentleman he tells himself. Anything and everything for you. Except letting you go.

“Do you need a breather?” gently, gently he removes his fingers, trying his best to treat you nicely. He tries not to grit his teeth when you nod your head. He’s already doing something awful. He needs to make you comfortable, at the very least.

A few minutes before you calm down, laying flat on your back, hands leaving him and choosing to grip his sheets instead. You’re distancing yourself from him. A bit lucid, but enough to resist.

“Alright… please be gentle,” closing your eyes, your arousal is still there, you still need him as badly as he needs you. He doesn’t wait a second to hover above you properly. His place, this is his place, you’re his and will always be his. You signed your faith the moment you appeared in his life.

“Gentle…,” he tells himself, taking in a deep breath. It stings you when he pushes in, slowly and gentle like he promised. Hands grip your hips, and he leans back on his heels a bit. You gasp, from pleasure mostly, and he stills. Be a gentleman in appearance, at least.

One second, two seconds, and at ten he starts to move. a deep sigh of pleasure from you both, yours higher than his. The tone was different compared to when you dragged your hips across his, clothes separating you. But now, now he can feel everything – the thought of a condom never having crossed your mind once. Good, everything is sailing smoothly.

“You’re, ngh, tight… fuck, you’re driving me crazy angel.” Unexpectedly, you mewl at the nickname, and without meaning too, he gives a hard thrust. Fuck, you’re going to be the death of him. One thrust, two thrust, and you’re begging him to fuck you harder at the fifth one, legs wrapping around his waist and hands clawing at his chest.

He loves you like this; he wants you remain so needy for him. “Diluc! Fuck, don’t stop!” Both blood and slick cover his cock and make a mess on his bed. He’ll have to give you a warm towel after this, a glass of water. And a lie about cumming inside.

“It feels good, fuck why did we wait so long?” His hips can’t stop moving as he questions you. You don’t answer, you can’t when you’re moaning like a whore. And he loves it, he loves the fact that only he can make you this way. He loves the fact that he’ll be your first and last partner.

He might hurt a man who would dare to attempt to do the same.

It doesn’t last long, neither of you do. He makes sure to circle your clit with his thumb, wanting to bring you more pleasure. You needed to finish with him. You needed to be distracted from the feeling of his cum painting your womb white.

And when he does, he lets out a low groan, your squeal music to his ears. he holds you tight until his balls are empty. And ever so slowly pulls out, careful to not alarm you. His goal was done, and hopefully, this’ll be enough to get you pregnant.

If not, he’ll come up with other plans.

“I love you…” one of his hands comes down to wipe away the sweat from your forehead. Your skin is sticky, eyes dazed. It’s a sight he’ll never forget.

You don’t answer, not at first.

“I… I love you too.”

A soft peck and he’s up to soak a towel in warm water. You’re too tired to check your lower half, eyes closing against your will. But it’s okay, it’s Diluc after all. Surely, he wouldn’t do anything… right?

As for Diluc… he’s already coming up with baby names.

===

A/N:* - tmi but the very first time I got fingered, I bleed a bit lmao. I don’t know how it is for everyone else, so I just used my own experiences. Seriously though, acting like Diluc in this fic is fucked up. Please don’t do that.

#Yandere #tw:yandere #yandere genshin #yandere diluc #yandere genshin impact #yandere diluc ragnvindr x reader #diluc smut #diluc ragnvindr x reader #genshin x reader #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin impact x reader #diluc x reader

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siilvan · 1 year ago

Text

proximate

characters: rodolfo “rudy” parra

summary: an undercover operation goes awry, leaving you and rudy in a tight spot – literally.

prompts: 3. "first one to make a noise loses" & 19. "the choice is yours"

genre: general, fluff, fem!reader (no desc.)

warnings: not proofread (i'll do it later </3), cursing, brief mentions of canon-typical violence, classic stuck-in-a-closet situation 😏, like two spanish words since i'm still a beginner lol

word count: 1.9k

note: RAHHHHHH RUDY MY LOVE‼️‼️🗣️ once again, shoutout to @glitterypirateduck for curating this event!!

also wrote most of this while fighting off sleep so if it's bad, i'm sorry, i have another rudy fic on my WIP list <3

things can't get much worse than this, right?

right?

"a simple mission," he said. "just a quick in-and-out." he said.

you swear, you're going to to kick alejandro with the heels that you're wearing if you come out of this alive.

as you go to round a corner, a few voices make you stop dead in your tracks and tuck yourself back against the wall. it's a small group, no more than four men, and you hold your breath as they stroll right past you without even sparing a glance in your direction.

if there's anything to be thankful for, it's the lack of discipline in the guards. they're all too worried about getting drunk at the party still raging elsewhere than catching the "agent" in attendance.

you let out a soft sigh as you watch them disappear down the corridor, until footsteps quickly approaching from behind make you jump and spin around, preparing to face the would-be attacker.

before you can even turn, though, a pair of gloved hands grab ahold of you, one coming up to cover your mouth as you let out a surprised yelp, and the other pressing you into the wall again. it's an instinct when you fight back, lifting your foot and stomping on theirs, praying that the heel of your shoe is enough to force them to loosen their grip and give you a chance to escape.

the grunt that leaves them – him, you realize – sounds all-too familiar. you hesitate, which gives the man enough time to yank his foot back and lean closer, mumbling something into your ear despite the pain lacing his every word.

"it's me—!" he says through a pained groan. the dots finally connect in your head and you crane your neck to look at him over your shoulder.

the man stares at you through a black balaclava, but his eyes are unmistakable. it's rudy.

"what are you doing here?" you ask, voice slightly muffled against his palm. rudy pulls his hand away and steps back, giving you space to face him properly. you mutter a quick apology upon seeing him stumble a bit, obviously sore from your attack, but he brushes it off with a casual wave of his hand.

"heard about the situation over comms, figured you could use some help." he shrugs as your gaze drops, dragging over the dark suit that sits snugly on his form. "we need to move quickly. the security's scattered right now, but it won't be long until they find the body." he adds, tapping your shoulder gently as he moves past you.

you follow close behind as he starts down the corridor that the group of guards came from earlier. "i'm assuming you mean the guy who's clothes you're wearing – did you not hide him well?"

rudy pauses at another intersection, holding a hand up to signal for you to stop behind him. "didn't have time to. i was more worried about you."

with the way he says the words so casually, you know that it's nothing more than work to him. helping a fellow soldier, assisting you in the field for the sake of the mission, doing his job as the second-in-command. still, you don't miss the way your heart skips a beat at the thought of rudy rushing to your aid for a different, more personal, reason.

after a mumbled "come on," he's continuing down the hallway with you right behind him, the distinct sounds of your heels clacking against the floor with each step and his leather oxfords echoing off the walls.

you nearly slam into his back when rudy suddenly stops in the middle of a hallway, opening your mouth to protest, until you hear aggravated grunts and conversation coming from further down the corridor. before you can react, though, rudy's grabbing your shoulder to guide you as he swings open a nearby door and hastily shoves you inside it.

he slips in with you and lets out a heavy breath as the door softly clicks shut behind him, leaving you in almost total darkness. you press your back to the wall and flinch when the handle of a broom brushes against your spine, making you shuffle forward a bit to get comfortable in the cramped space.

unfortunately, "comfortable" equals standing so close to rudy that you worry about him hearing the rapid beating of your nervous heart.

you're in a small room, some kind of broom closet, with one of your superiors confined and standing just inches away from you. the shadows obscuring your face end up being your saving grace— if he could see the way you're reacting to the close proximity, you'd probably die from sheer embarrassment.

"they were heading our way?" you manage to ask, whispering through the pitch blackness.

you can make out some movement in the shadows akin to a nod. "party guests aren't allowed in this area. it's safer to hide and let them pass by." rudy mutters in reply, shifting. his hand, covered by a dark leather glove, grazes your arm lightly, his touch leaving behind a faint heat that slowly spreads through the rest of your body.

he lifts his arm fully and finds something that you can barely make out: a string, hanging in the air between you two. rudy gives it a single tug and suddenly you're squinting, eyes adjusting to the dim, artificial light that fills the small space from the bulb at the center of the ceiling.

seeing him semi-clearly again is enough to make you stare, eyes greedily drinking up his disguise as he keeps his attention trained on the little bit of space at the bottom of the door. you manage to tear your gaze from him after admiring the way the balaclava clings to his focused expression, clearly outlining strong features that you know will make you melt all over again once the mask is removed.

fleeting shadows obscure the light coming in from the crack, signaling that the group from before is passing by. you remain quiet, practically holding your breath as you watch the last person's silhouette appear and disappear under the door, the group's conversation gradually fading as they continue down the hall without a single alarm raised.

rudy goes to open the door, hand firmly wrapping around the knob, but when he tries to twist it open, you're both a little shocked at it not budging. he twists it again, but to no avail.

"mierda," he whispers harshly, fidgeting with the doorknob. "it's stuck." he adds, shooting a glance in your direction.

you briefly meet his gaze and blink at him, swiftly understanding the implications.

you're alone, very lightly armed, and trapped in a stuffy closet with your second-in-command whilst surrounded by enemies. somehow, things did find a way to get worse.

the two of you fall into a tense silence as you take in the situation: rudy, testing the strength of the door once more, and you, carefully listening for anyone nearby with an ear pressed against the wall. catching a guard's attention isn't ideal, but two or three men shouldn't be too difficult to take out discreetly.

you don't hear anything for what feels like ages. no footsteps, no voices, not even a peep from your ally. with a frustrated huff, you pull back from the wall and settle for staring into the minimal space between you and rudy.

at some point, he pulls off the mask, allowing you to drag your gaze up to his uncovered face. you can see thoughts swimming behind his dark irises, plans being formed off the cuff, preparation for any and every possible outcome. if rudy's anything, it's meticulous and levelheaded, even in a bad situation. he's everything a leader should be, and you commend him for it.

the silence lingers heavy in the air, settling like an uncomfortable weight on your shoulders. you swallow down the lump in your throat awkwardly, wracking your brain for an excuse to break it.

"first one to make a noise loses," you mumble, sending him a cursory glance.

rudy chuckles softly, his shoulders drooping slightly. he meets your gaze and seems to relax, lips twitching into a small smile. "i think you lost when you said that."

you roll your eyes half-heartedly. "that doesn't count." you lean in, mirroring his smile. "you lost by responding, though."

he concedes, lifting his hands in a mock surrender. "you got me, i guess you're the winner." he says, before letting his hands fall to his sides once more.

you're left staring at each other again. the tension dissipates with those few words, however, and you let yourself bask in the warmth of his gaze. it isn't special, you know that rudy looks at all of his allies with the same warmth, but a part of you clings to the hope that his affection is reserved for you. it's silly – juvenile, even – to think of your teammate like this. what you have is just a schoolgirl crush, feelings that he'd never reciprocate—

"you look beautiful," he utters, nearly inaudible despite the lack of other sounds. "i, uh... wanted to tell you that before the mission."

did you hear that correctly?

you keen under his praise, muttering an equally soft "thank you" before mentally kicking yourself for the awkward response and opening your mouth to speak again. "you look handsome. maybe you should've been on this mission instead." you add with a laugh.

"you were handling yourself just fine." rudy says, eyes narrowing when you shake your head.

"there's a reason why you had to step in. besides—"

"—besides, why would i miss out on this view?" he asks. you stop short, jaw practically going slack. again, did you hear that correctly?

you blink at him, dumbfounded. "that's bold."

another mental kick makes you flinch at your own reply.

gloved hands wrap around your own, guiding your hands to sit between yours and rudy's bodies. he squeezes them gently, a comforting gesture that sends a shiver coursing down your spine.

"maybe this isn't the best place to say this," he starts, thumbs rubbing soothing circles into your skin. "and, maybe that's exactly why i finally can say this, but... i've always thought that you're beautiful." he continues, voice dropping from a quiet timbre to a whisper.

"i want to be more than just teammates, if you'll have me." he quickly says, his grip tightening as his eyes search yours for an answer.

"rudy..." you trail off, before he speaks – again.

"the choice is yours. i'll respect your decision, no matter what it is."

if you didn't know better, you'd tell yourself that you're dreaming. it's not an ideal confession, not in the slightest, but there's something about it that's so very him. your chest tightens in the best way as you slide your hands from his, fingertips dancing up his arms until you cup his cheeks and bridge that final gap.

the kiss that follows is chaste and saccharine sweet. strong arms circle around your waist, drawing your body closer to his, grounding you in the moment as you threaten to slip away in the pure bliss of it.

after a few moments, you manage to pull back enough to give a verbal answer. "if we get out of here, then it's a date."

rudy chuckles, warm breath fanning against your lips. "keep your weekend open, cariño."

#fall4rudy #call of duty #cod #cod mw2 #mw2 #call of duty x reader #cod x reader #mw2 x reader #rudy x reader #rodolfo parra x reader #rodolfo rudy parra x reader #cod rudy #rodolfo parra #rodolfo rudy parra #sylph.writes

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ultralightpoe · 4 months ago

Text

Murder Mystery - Jake Seresin

Authors Note: HAPPY HALLOWEEN! Yet another addition to the event for today and I am wishing you all a very happy and safe holiday!

-Ultralight

Warnings: Mentions of murder, all fake of course

Word Count: 919

Requests: OPEN

~2024 Halloween Event Masterlist~

[Thank you for the gif @convivialcamera ]

ENJOY!

“She’s dead…” You mumble, face stricken and hands rolled into tight fists as you take a deep breath in before your amazing acting is completely destroyed by Jake, your long time boyfriend, cracking out into a fit of maniacal laughter. A small wave of anger courses through you before you find yourself breaking into laughter just as quick as him. “Stop.”

“I’m sorry. Was that supposed to be believable?” He chuckles, pushing your shoulder the slightest bit to pretend to push you into the road. You knew that he would never actually let anything happen to you and you didn’t hear any cars coming so you pretended he pushed harder and stepped into the street with the fakest gasp you can muster which makes him laugh more and reach for you quickly. “Come here.”

“No, don’t touch me.” You laugh, shoving his arm away. “Your costume is itchier than mine.”

“Tell me why we are doing this again?” He sighs, itching his side at the reminder of the costume's itchiness. The ‘this’ he described was in fact a murder mystery party.

It had started by a little bicker between you and your sister on game night while playing a game of Clue. One might say that the two of you had the tendency to be a little over competitive but they would be lying, you two just got a little too into the game and what was wrong with that? On that specific night your sister had flaunted that her and her fiance constantly went to murder mystery parties and that was why they were so amazing at Clue. You had, obviously, chosen to believe that was a lie and instead spent 10 minutes accusing them of cheating and…. You might of said some….. Crazy things.

“I curse you and every generation you bring forth into the same unfair luck of games they play that you have cursed me with,” Was one of the quotes Jake had used against you since.

“You said that I over reacted that night-”

“You did. But I love you anyway.”

“And my sister said that I should try to do the murder mysteries. She said they were a lot of fun.” You hum, shrugging nonchalantly.

“So you decided that it would be fun to listen to her?”

“Yeah.” You smile.

“Not at all trying to prove yourself from the massacre of clue?”

“SHE WAS CHEATING!”

“Okay, easy. I was just asking.” He laughs, holding out his hands in a surrender way that was almost comical with the way he dressed. The theme of the mystery was, of course, 60s. So Jake was in his richest 60’s wear with the suspenders and hair gel.

You hated that he didn’t look cheesy at all, in fact he looked quite perfect.

You had gone for the scarlet temptress 60s look, much to his liking, and the red lipstick you had applied at the beginning of the night was LONG gone.

“Can we concentrate? We are going to be late.” You huff, ashamed that he had called you out so easily.

“Anything for you sweetums.” And you hate the butterflies in your stomach the second he gives you that southern smirk and pinches your side, your entire body heating as you walk in front of him, suddenly ashamed that you debated how long it would take to walk back to the car for a quick round.

“Like I said, please no licking or lifting or breaking or filming. You will have 2 hours to figure it out and along the way I would pay attention to any sound effects you might hear. Any questions before we begin?” The younger clerk of the murder mystery room talks, casting a bored look amongst everyone. “Right. You all have your characters, you will have 30 minutes to mingle before the body is discovered. You may begin now.”

It was like something clicked in Jake. One moment he looked bored but the second the timer started you saw him stand a little straighter and his eyes narrowed in and you remembered just what drew you into him in the first place.

He was just as competitive as you were. And he was just as serious about game nights.

“Take it easy tiger.”

“Come on, we have three other couples to beat. Focus up hot shot.:” He mutters, moving to begin socializing.

It’s another 30 minutes and a loud bang fills the room and everyone rushes to see what had happened. Jake comes to your side and nods his head.

“The husband killed the maid in the living room because she was pregnant with his love child,”

“How do you know that?” You laugh. “We haven’t even seen the body?”

“I snuck into the office and-”

“Hey! You two! Out!” The teen snaps, pointing at the both of you with a heavy glare. “Cheaters are banned.”

“Wait, we didn’t-”

“I saw him do it!”

And it’s funny, just a little funny, because as the teenager shoves you both out of the house with letters stating both your bans you can see the unease on Jake's face.

“You are such a cheater.”

“Yeah? You're gonna curse me too?” He laughs, wrapping his arm around you.

“No. I need you for game nights.”

“Why is that Sugar?”

“Because you are just like me.” You smile, leaning up to kiss his cheek. “And we have games to win. Just next time don’t get caught cheating.”

“Your sister has no clue what’s coming.”

“Not a chance,”

[Thank you for the gif @flashandtheholograms ]

#jake seresin #jake seresin smut #jake seresin fluff #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin angst #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin fic #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin x you #top gun #top gun imagine #top gun fluff #top gun angst #top gun smut #top gun fanfiction #top gun fanfic #top gun movie

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five-rivers · 1 year ago

Text

Neologism

For Ectober 2023 day 31: Ten Years! Last one for this year!

“Can you believe, Daniel, that it has already been ten years since we first met?” asked Vlad, topping off Danny’s wine glass.

“I can’t believe that I’m hanging out with you after you tried to dissect me like a laboratory frog,” said Danny. He was already a little tipsy. Vlad’d had a party earlier. A fancy one. One that Vlad had invited Danny and his family to, for reasons unknown, and which Danny had attended for reasons unknown. And now they were sitting on one of Vlad’s balconies. Why Vlad felt the need to have so many of the things when they could both fly and walk through walls, Danny would never understand.

“I never dissected you, my dear boy,” said Vlad, with an expansive gesture. A bit of wine spilled from his glass. He was drunk, too.

“As if you could,” said Danny with a snort. “I said you tried to dissect me. There’s a difference, cheesehead.”

“No, no,” said Vlad. “I never tried to dissect you.”

Danny rolled his eyes. “Are you splitting hairs over whether or not you wanted to vivisect or dissect me? Really? Really?”

“I’m not splitting hairs, I’m making a cogent distinction! And I never wanted to vivisect you, either.”

“What d’you call wanting to cut me up to figure out how I work, then?”

Vlad sniffed. “Vivisection is strictly for things that are alive. Dissection is for things that are not alive. We are both alive and dead, and therefore such an act would fall under neither category. Therefore, therefore, I came up with my own term.”

“What?” said Danny, drinking more wine. Clearly, he wasn’t drunk enough to make dealing with Vlad painless yet. If that was even possible. “Vladisection?” As much as Vlad mocked Danny’s father for his naming sensibilities (some of which were Mom’s fault, anyway), the names he came up with were much worse.

Danny was never going to let him live Dalv down. Seriously.

“Divisection!” said Vlad triumphantly.

Danny nearly choked on his wine.

“I considered hemisection and demisection, but hemisection is already taken.”

“By what?” asked Danny, phasing off the wine he’d spilled.

“Something to do with tooth surgery,” said Vlad, waving his hand. “Unimportant.”

“And demisection?”

Vlad ignored him. “Divi. A noble and little-used prefix, ideal for our purposes.”

“I don’t like how you’re lumping us together, there, Vladdie.”

“It accurately indicates that we are divided between two states, those of life and death.”

“I dunno that I feel all that divided. I think that’s always been a you thing,” lied Danny. He’d had his phases, back when he’d been a teenager. He’d gotten over it.

“And, in a stroke of genius–”

“Kinda think that word’s overused these days,” observed Danny.

“Let me speak Daniel. It’s no wonder you’re getting a ‘B’ in Introduction to Relativistic Astrophysics and General Relativity.”

“Y’know what, I’m impressed you can even say that with how drunk you are.” Danny sure wasn’t going to try. He already bit his tongue too often, now that his fangs had come in.

“As I was saying, in a stroke of genius, divisection also includes the first syllable from each of the terms that are so often misused in its place.” Vlad nodded sharply, and drained his wine glass. “I didn’t try to dissect or vivisect you, I wanted to divisect you.”

“I can’t tell if you’re serious or not,” said Danny.

“I’m dead–” Vlad hiccupped, “--deadly serious.”

“You’re embarrassing, that’s what you are,” said Danny. He leaned back to get a better look of the moon overhead. “I really, really don’t know why I’m hanging out with you. Divisection. Can’t believe you tried to cut me up, and now you’re calling it divisection. No respect.”

#danny phantom #ectober 2023 #ectober23 #ectoberhaunt 2023 #ectoberhaunt23

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rendy-a · 11 months ago

Note

amh if possible could hoy make hdcns for the dorm leaders ( separately ) reacting to their mc fem explaining the marvel universe and then puts them to watch the movies hehe ( ..also mc's fav hero is dead-pool ;) bc it gives me laugh imagine their reactions about this xd) , thanks in advance and take care<33

This certainly ended up being a little bit of a crack fic but it ended up amusing. Hope you enjoy it.

At first, he scoffs as such a time-wasting thing as wanting to watch dozens of movies. Where is the educational value in this?

He is just too polite to refuse to listen, so he’ll end up letting you describe all your favorite scenes to him.

You are better off if he doesn’t take an interest because, if he does, he is going to turn into the worst sort of comic book geek. Be ready to have him quote lore from issues of source material at you during any discussion on this from now on.

What do you mean who would win? In Volume 3 #3, Thor clearly defeated Iron Man. Don’t get upset Prefect, I don’t write the lore, I just recite it.

Doesn’t appear to be interested but, if you pause long enough, he’ll prompt you to go on. It’s important to you, so he’ll try to care at least a little.

You’d never tell him this, but you love to banter with him because it reminds you of your favorite character. Sometimes you wonder if he’d be pleased or offended to know who you remind him of.

Movie marathons? Not only is he willing to do them with you, but he is also often the one who suggests them. Don’t be deceived though, it’s not for the movie but for the quality nap time on the couch with you.

Don’t turn that off, Herbivore, I’m watching it. What do you mean I don’t know what’s going on? This is the part where we learn her mom isn’t dead after all. So quiet down and keep the lights off.

Please, he is in Board Game Club with Idia. You think this is the first time he has hmmm’d himself through a conversation about fictional characters?

Wait, you say that this makes a ton of money? Tell him more about this merchandising and licensing. Especially that, what do you call it…ah, Happy Meal.

You can eventually talk him into watching the movies with you for ‘research purposes.’ When you do, you can’t help but notice how teary-eyed he gets at the sad scenes. He’s just so sensitive!

Deadpool is also his favorite character. He feels a sort of connection to certain parts of his story.

So, she chooses to stay with him even though he looks like that? No, I’m not blubbering. No, I don’t need you to cuddle with me. Ok, fine. Just for a little while.

He doesn’t get it, but he still loves it. Sure, you have to explain everything to him three times, but he gets excited over your excitement. Call him any time to talk about your theories on how things would have gone if Thanos had made a different wish on the infinity gauntlet. He doesn’t mind if it’s 3 AM (just don’t let Jamil find out).

Movie marathons turn into parties. Why just watch the movies when you can have themed snacks and dress up too? Hulk smash cakes and Black Widow berry cobbler? Yes, please.

His favorite part of any film is the soundtrack. If he hears a song he likes, he gets up to dance along. It’s pretty disruptive when you are watching the movie but when you see how much fun he is having, you find you don’t really mind after all.

Sorry Prefect, Jamil says we can’t have dance battles in Scarabia anymore. Ooh! But come by the Pop Music Club later. I’m going to play all my favorite songs for Cater and Lilia. Ahaha!

You were worried Vil would dismiss your favorite Marvel films as inferior art, but he is actually rather generous about it. He believes the film should suit the audience and, as so, there is nothing wrong with films like this that serve to entertain the masses.

Still, he can’t help but be critical of everything while you watch. He doesn’t criticize the things you’d talk about with your friends but topics you’d hardly even notice while you watched like the set design and lighting.

You notice Vil seems secretly fond of Loki. You think the idea of the Villain that survives the main movies to get his own spotlight series appeals to him.

No, Potato, I’m just saying the angle isn’t right for this sort of tone. A shot from below would be more effective. Plus…wait, are you having more popcorn? I don’t think so, it’s past the time you can snack before bed.

You had expected Idia to be all in on the Marvel Universe but, at first, he is oddly resistant to it. He’d rather recommend you one of his own favorite hero movies. If you disagree on which is better, he is more than willing to fight with you over why his is best!

After a heated argument, he puts on some of the movies to watch so he can come up with targeted points about why his own shows are better. This does not work out for him as he gets sucked in himself. Next time you meet up, he wants to go over tiny bits of lore and speculate on future plot lines from hints in the past movies.

You might think his favorite would be Iron Man because they both are innovative engineers, but he is a fan of Ant Man. Shrinking down to a size where you can hide from everyone; it’s an introvert’s dream!

Prefect, this is serious business! I’ve drawn up plans. So long as we sleep only 2 hours a day and avoid taking any breaks for food, studying, and showers, we can finish at least three seasons this weekend. True fans like us need to be ready to sacrifice for the shows we love!

There are many things Tusnotarou doesn’t understand, and this is one of them. For starters, he barely knows how to use his smartphone, let alone how to stream movies and shows. So, before you can even start explaining the plot, you must explain the whole concept of series and interconnecting shows to him.

He doesn’t get it, but he is happy to watch with you. Your reactions to the show are far more amusing to him than the actual show. Plus, he feels like he learns so much about the human world from your conversations. A subway, how intriguing an idea. Humans are so fascinating.

Even though he watches politely, he isn’t very impressed. They can fly? Well so can he. Magic, lightning, superstrength? All just part of being a dragon. Perhaps instead of being interested in these superheroes, you’d rather learn more about him?

Lilia, do you think I am a superhero? The Prefect has been explaining this concept to me in great detail lately. I can’t help but notice the many things I have in common with these so-called heroes. Why yes, Lilia, now that you mention it, I am wearing a cape. Another point in my favor. Fu fu fu.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst wonderland #riddle rosehearts #leona kingscholar #idia shroud #kalim al asim #azul ashengrotto #malleus draconia #vil schoenheit

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oddballwriter · 1 year ago

Text

Dwelling in the Night

Series Masterlist

Pt. 2 Pt. 3 Pt. 4

Summary: There's a new vigilante figure out on the streets at night. And there's also a new neighbor on the same floor as Steven and the rest of the boys.

Warnings: Mentions of blood, dead bodies, crime, all that. Reader is a vampire so it's implied that they consume blood and all that. Also, Y/N kills, but the act is never actually written or depicted. Steven being dumb and clueless for reasons of the plot. This is mostly Steven-centric and Marc-centric but Jake's here too but doesn't really do anything for the plot other than simply have some lines that progress the plot. Gender-neutral reader with they/them being used for them. Heads up, it does get a bit confusing in one part but I think it's fine.

Author’s Snip: I wrote this in one sitting and it's currently 1:30 am. Honestly, anything to stall my studying for an exam for one of my classes. I wrote this fucking unit of a shot involving my love for vampire Y/N's just to do it.

Notes: Please appreciate vampire reader. We need more of that in the x reader community. I as a reader would love for that to happen more often. Thank you.

Word count: 2,600~

I’ll shut up now. Enjoy!

The system took pride in their patrolling. Even if it was still doing work for Khonshu, they were still free in what they did when coming across a criminal rather than being yapped at. It brought a sort of satisfaction of taking, or at least scaring, another threat off the street. But things were getting weird, and slightly disturbing.

Criminals had started to drop like flies with a theme of them being found in dark alleys with bitten throats, but there was never any blood to be found that made sense with their wounds. Just their pale corpses with looks of fear or shock in their glazed-over eyes.

Jake admired the simple tactic of scaring off would be scum by the fear of being the next person in the obituaries, but he had to admit that the method of doing that was unsettling. He just killed them and let whoever came across the scene be shucked with cleaning the mess.

Marc worried that this other party wasn't actually someone necessarily on "the right side" and this was an actual threat to the public that just so happened to have a streak going with having their victims coincidentally being criminals.

It wasn't until they came across two cases that proved that worry otherwise.

The first was a girl they found running around the alleys in a panic. When they went to her and asked if she was okay, she was babbling about something in her panting. "There was this guy! He dragged me into the alleys, he held up a knife to me and was threatening me!" she explained pointing in the general direction, but she kept talking "But this... in the shadows, there were these two glowing lights, like eyes! And this person came out from there and grabbed them." she said. "I just ran off I didn't know where to go! They were blocking off the way to the street." she exclaimed.

It was actually Steven who was fronting then. He helped her calm down and led her out of the alley system and back in to get the perp and maybe help whoever got him away from the poor woman. But when he found the guy, he was like all the others he and the system had heard about.

Dead with a bitten throat, fear on their face, and hardly any blood in the pool for it to make sense.

The second was with Marc himself. He dropped in on a duo of muggers who cornered a young man, getting a left hook in on one of them. But his buddy ran off into the dark and dank alleys to get away. Marc needed to do a few more punches to get the first down and out before chasing after the second, but he swore he could've seen a figure follow after them in the corner of his vision.

He heard the sound of what must have been the guy's scream as soon as Marc moved on.

But when Marc got there, he was already on the wet brick floor writhing and grabbing at his neck. He saw them. A figure in the shadows where the backlights couldn't reach to show them in all say for a silhouette, had ducked into another alley. "Hey!" Marc called to them before chasing after them. But when he turned the corner, they were gone, only seeing a complete dead end.

When Marc came back to the guy, he found him trying to breathe through a gargled, and bitten, throat. He tried his best to help the guy since he was still alive. Unfortunately, bites to the jugular weren't kind injuries to those who are dealt them.

🩸🩸🩸

"I don't understand," Steven mutters as Marc slides back into their flat after patrolling and finding a few more crooks who came across this other person. "Why the injuries to the neck? And how is there hardly any blood?" he questions, "There's nowhere for it to go. There's nowhere for them to go. They just come out of nowhere and pick these blokes off and leave in such a short moment.".

"I don't know. And I don't think I want to know. This freak's keeping the load easier for us by doing whatever they're doing with these guys." Marc says, emphasizing the word 'freak'. "Hey, watch who you're calling a freak, amigo. We aren't exactly normal either." Jake says, mostly joking. "Yeah, sure. But we're not the one who's having our guys come up without a drop of blood left in them." Marc defends.

A crash is heard from nearby, in the flat next door.

"The hell's going on over there?" Marc muttered to himself as a reaction to the sound, but Steven said a name almost instantly.

"Who?" Marc asked.

"It's Y/N. They're our neighbor. They moved in a few months ago." Steven answered. "I've never heard of them." Marc comments before Steven quips back with "That's because you two hardly meet anybody.".

"Give me the body for a bit. I want to check on them. That sounded like something big fell over." Steven requests. Marc shrugs and switches out after briefly instructing "Put the body to sleep when you're done.".

Steven un-summons the suit, steps out into the hallway, steps towards your door, and knocks. After a beat, the door opens enough to have your head pop through, but not enough to show the rest of your flat like a fully opened door would. Which he didn't really mind, you always did this whenever he or anyone would knock. "Hello." Steven greets you with a little smile.

You look worried at seeing him in front of you. "I heard a pretty loud noise come from your flat. Is everything okay?" Steven asked. "Yeah. I'm so sorry. I knocked over a shelf." you answer. Steven is shocked for a bit, "A shelf? My word. Are you sure you're okay? Do you want me to help you lift it back up?" Steven stresses as he moves to the side to peak into your flat to see how bad the damage is. But you quickly pull back in and tighten the width of the open door to a sliver , making him unable to see the inside with a "No!".

He pulls away, startled at the sudden reaction.

You open the door back up to step out again. "I'm sorry about that." you timidly apologize. "It's fine. I can pick it back up on my own. Thank you for offering to help and for your concern." you say. "There's some blood on your hand." Steven notices. You pull your hand behind your back at the realization. "It's fine. I'll clean it up myself." you blurt out as you go back into your flat with a quick "Good night, Steven." before closing and re-locking the door behind you, all before he can properly react.

"Good night?" Steven repeats back in confusion.

"That was weird." Marc comments, exposing that he had watched the whole thing go down. "Yeah. They... are a bit strange. They don't really come out most of the day." Steven explains. "Why were they up this late?" Jake buds in, having seen it all too. "It's nearly four in the morning and they look wide awake and aren't in any pajamas." Jake adds.

The next time Steven saw you, you were bringing a huge box into your apartment a few days after that night.

"Need help?" he asked. "Sure. It's actually really hard to drag around." you admit. As he picked up the other end of the large, and heavy, box and walked with your pace into your flat you spoke. "I'm sorry about the noise and acting weird a few nights ago. I was just embarrassed from having woken you up." you explain. Steven gently huffs, "No need to apologize. I wasn't asleep anyways. I was pulling an all-nighter like you were." Steven reassures. You look at him for a moment, "Oh right. Yeah. I do that a lot. I do better with work at night." you remark.

You two manage to get the box past some things it would have bumped, into and into the space between the space of your bedroom and living room. That's when he sees that there's no bed there in your bedroom area, glancing at the box to see a depiction of a bed frame.

"Changing furniture?" Steven asks. "Yeah. I already sold my old one." you say. Steven quarks a brow, "When? Have you had to sleep on your sofa-?" he asks as he turns towards your living room area before interrupting himself with a "Woah!".

There in the area, where a coffee table should be, was an authentic-looking coffin. "Quite the decor there." Steven comments with a breathy little chuckle. "Yeah. I like the look it had." you claim.

Looking around your flat for the first time, Steven could see it. It wasn't exactly goth per se, but there was a weirdly somber and antique look to your decor. It had that same attic look that Steven's did, but you had an attic feel of that of an abandoned house that was left for the dust bunnies to call home. Almost haunted house-esk with the draw curtains adding to it all.

"Is someone in there?" Steven jokes, mostly to himself. "No." you stutter out, "But it does still open." you mention as you walk towards it to show him by lifting the lid.

And, wow. It was real. It still had the pale pink padding and even the pillow inside of it, still pristine as ever, ignoring a couple of scratches on the outside wood.

"Impressive. How'd you even get your hands on this?" Steven asked. You thought for a moment, most likely trying to recall the answer to that question. "Some funeral places have spares that never got sold. So they sell them for a much cheaper price." you say.

Steven nodded as he took another look at the coffin.

"Well, it really is a nice touch." Steven complimented. "Thank you." you reply with a sigh.

🩸🩸🩸

Again.

And again.

One alley crawler dead and paled out after another.

Finding the bodies seemed to become a normal accordance for the boys when they were out doing their rounds around the city. Whoever this was at least started to lean the bodies against the wall after doing the deed now so that there wasn't just some corpse in the middle of the alley's street.

He was still finding the people this person 'saved' too. With them saying the same thing each time. Talking about a person in the shadows with a pair of glowing eyes being the only visible thing about them and then having gotten whatever criminal tried their luck yanked away into the said shadows with a scream echoing as the victim ran to safety.

They never see the actual person though. They don't seem to wear a costume like they do. No mask. No suit. Their only identity keeper they have being that of the shadows that exist beyond any light sources. The only sign of it being them is just the animal-like glow of their eyes. And one brutal calling card for those who came to see where they were.

Tonight was different.

Marc heard the sound of gunshots and rushed to the scene. But he found someone running for their life trying to leave already. He grabs a hold of them, thinking it was a person escaping a forceful mugging till they tried to aim a gun at him. Thankfully, he manages to subdue them.

"That thing tried to get me!" they shouted frantically as they attempted to get loose. "You gotta let me go, man. I don't want to be another body found around here." they beg.

"They tried robbing someone." a voice rings through.

Marc, and also the person he was holding down, looked towards where it came from. He notices the eyes first, with their white pearly glow surrounded by the rest of their shadowy form. The eyes almost looked like the system when they wore their suits, though it was dimmer, just enough to pierce through the darkness, and looked more like the glow was coming from the irises than the whole eye.

"I stopped them before they could pounce. This one was holding more firepower than most. I didn't want to have to risk it." the voice spoke again.

It felt a little haunting. The glow was almost disarming somehow, and their voice was calm and collected as it naturally echoed through the walls of the buildings, and sounding almost familiar. Marc stood there just staring at them till the person he was holding started thrashing harder in his hold, "Let me go, that thing's going to fucking kill me! I swear to god!" they pleaded.

"You're in his court now. You aren't my issue anymore." the silhouette says looking towards the person from where they were before looking back up at Marc.

"Sorry about me leaving my actual catches around." the silhouette apologizes. "I have nowhere to put them." they add as an explanation.

"Why kill them?" Marc questioned, speaking before really thinking. "You kill some of yours don't you, Moonknight? I don't see why you're judging me." the silhouette remarks. "I meant in the way that you do. I just kill them and leave them. You do... something to them." Marc speaks, hesitating for a second at the latter end.

The silhouette stays silent for a second seemingly striking their eyebrow from the way their eyes move. "I have reasons to do it that you probably wouldn't like to hear." they say. "We're doing the same work either way. My method is just more intense than yours tends to be." they comment before slipping back and disappearing into the shadows.

Marc calls out a "Wait!" but gets nothing in return.

He's just left alone with a scared shitless would-have-been mugger and more questions.

🩸🩸🩸

"Hey!" Steven calls out as he does a brief jog over to you in the hallway. "About time I catch you out in the day." Steven jokes. "Oh. Hello, Steven. Yeah. I needed to run some errands." you say, giving an explanation for the rare occurrence. "Good thing you've come back. It's been overcast all day and would rain at any minute." Steven comments.

"Anyways. I knocked on your door yesterday but you didn't come to the door at all." Steven mentions. "Oh. Really? I'm sorry. I'm usually asleep in the day because of my all-nighters." you claim.

"Really? You've got to be the hardest sleeper then. You're like the dead in there. I knocked hard for a while." Steven explains. "So I've been told." you nervously laugh. "You must be real tired if you usually sleep in the day then," he comments. "Yeah. But I have to deal with it." you say.

"What did you need?" you ask.

"Oh. Nothing from me. I was told to tell you, by the landlord, that there would be a check of the fire alarm system next week and that some might go off." Steven explains. "They tried to knock on your door the day before I knocked, but I guess you were asleep." Steven says. "Yeah. I probably was." you reply, "I'll send them an e-mail or something telling them about my sleep schedule." you mutter to yourself.

"Well, nice running into you. Go get yourself some rest." Steven says as he bids you goodbye by patting your shoulder. "Be sure to wrap yourself in something warm too. You're a bit cold." he adds.

#moon knight x reader #moonknight x reader #moon knight #moonknight #steven grant #steven grant x reader #marc spector #marc spector x reader #jake lockley #vampire reader #gender neutral reader #long shot #vampire!reader

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towriteloveontheirarms · 1 year ago

Text

Our love is god (modern!Heathers JD type!Aemond Targaryen x Reader)

synopsis: High school is hell. Truly. However, the one person you think will finally make it better, only makes it so much more worse.

warnings: angst, making out, death, murder, faked suicide, sexual abuse, physical violence, gun violence, afab reader

word count: 6.4k

taglist: @hopelesswritergall, @urmomsgirlfriend1

(If you want to be tagged for a specific character/fandom/series or in general let me know in my asks, comments or DMs)

King´s Landing high school. Your own personal hell as you liked to call it in your journal. You really thought joining forces with the devils that ran it would help you get through it, but all it did was make things harder. You left your real friends and unpopularity behind for a seat at the same table as the Baratheon sisters, only to help them bully the rest of the school and focus on your looks and parties more than anything else. You dreaded seeing them every day. Floris wasn´t as bad you had to admit, she was nice. A cheerleader, but in the end she still participated in her sisters doings. Cassandra was a more devout follower. The year book committee and the boob job that mommy paid for made her think she was more than she actually was, but even she couldn´t reach the tyranny of their sister Maris. She truly was a mythic bitch. Drowning in your thoughts, one makes its reoccurring return. College will be paradise if you´re not dead by graduation.

From the side you could feel an elbow get rammed into your ribs painfully.

“Ow. What´s your damage, Maris?” You spit out the words while rubbing the sore spot on your side.

“Stop whining. You are going to go to the big frat party with me this weekend. You should be thankful.” Just hearing her tone made you want to punch her in the boob or something. Gods, you couldn´t even think straight.

“Yay, great.” You can barely hide the sarcasm in your faked excitement.

However Maris doesn´t get the chance to say anything about it as right in that moment a commotion breaks out in the back of the cafeteria. With your old friends you would have been able to just ignore it, but with the Baratheons? No chance. The four of you turn around to see Cregan Stark and Qyle Martell harassing a student you think you have never seen before, which is highly unlikely as literally everyone here had been to kindergarten, elementary school and middle school together. Despite not recognizing him, you feel an immediate yet inexplainable attraction towards him. The whole ethereal beauty that he had going on was really working for him. So much so, that when the bickering stops and a gasp rolls through the cafeteria as the stranger pulls out a gun, you aren´t even that deterred. In fact you think it´s kinda funny how the two jocks pee their pants at being shot with blanks. They deserve some push back to their constant bullying.

But even that little moment can´t lift your mood long enough to get you over the party. When Maris picks you up in her dad´s way too expensive car you already feel like sending her away again. On the other hand you might as well end your own social life then. No.

“And don´t forget the corn nuts!” Maris yells after you as you walk towards the convenience store on your way to that stupid frat party.

“Plain or bbq?” You yell back.

“Bbq!” You get your answer in the middle of the door.

Rolling your eyes so she doesn´t see it you make your way through the store grabbing the snacks and looking around until you almost run into someone.

“Oh, sorry I didn´t look where I was going.” You take a step back feeling your cheeks heat in embarrassment as you recognize the stranger from school.

“It´s okay… You know, I´m not the biggest fan of your friend either.” He says as he grabs some snacks himself.

“What?” His statement catches you off guard quite a bit.

“I watched you… Today during lunch and how you rolled your eyes at her.” He explains as if it is nothing.

“You´ve been watching me?” You ask surprised, but with a smile on your face. “Should I be flattered or scared?”

"A little bit of both maybe?" He leans against one of the shelves. Putting on a half smile himself. A very handsome one at that. For the first time you really study him. The way his silver hair flows past his shoulders. The intense look of his right eye and the scar above his left one. The sharpness of his cheekbones, nose and chin. Until your eyes stick to his lips. Those perfect, pink lips with the sharp cupids bow.

"I can do that..." You whisper more to yourself than the lean person in front of you.

That's when the penetrating sound of a car horn and Maris screaming your name pulls the two of you back to reality.

"Better run quick. Your friend is waiting." He teases as you make your way to the Cash register. Your name rolling of his tongue in the most promising manner. Promising what? That is what you wanted to find out.

“I should.” You sigh. “But before I go… Since you know my name, it´s kind of only fair to tell me yours, don´t you think?”

“Aemond. Aemond Targaryen.” He finally introduces himself and upon hearing his last name you remember him distantly. You had talked to his sister Helaena once or twice a few years ago.

“Well, it was nice meeting you Aemond Targaryen, but I have to go appease the will of a high school tyrant now…” You shoot him a wink and get back to the car as quickly as possible.

The party, much like you thought, is a total bust. The music is complete shit, the alcohol is cheap and Maris leaves you alone to do god knows what with some frat bro almost immediately. Leaving you alone to be harassed by his friend. It all together gives you a major headache and so you leave at the first chance. Walking home still is a better option than having to bear this any longer.

You arrive there late, but the fresh air helps the headache. To your further luck, your parents are already asleep so you can go to your room directly. Writing out all your frustrations in your journal.

While you do so there is a tap on the window. Jolting out of your seat, you see Aemond standing there.

“Greetings and salutations.” He says as you open up for him to come inside. An invitation he takes instantly. “So how was the party?”

“About as good as one would think…” You scoff, closing your journal as you turn towards him.

“Ah… I bet your presence was missed greatly.” He says, the words dripping with sarcasm and making you laugh. I was nice to really laugh for the first time in a while. The two of you talk some more and somehow end the night cuddled up naked under the blankets. Remnants of both of your juices sticking to your thighs as you talk about gods know what. You honestly can´t pay much attention. Yet even post nut clarity couldn´t give you the realization that he just found out where you lived and came in through your gods damn window. Probably because his kisses kept your mind far away enough from reality.

“Maris Baratheon is one bitch that deserves to die.” He sighs.

“Killing her won´t solve anything. I say we just grow up be adults and then die.” You reply in a quiet tone. Your faces so close to each other that there is barely even an inch between you. Perfect to pull him in once more. Locking your lips in a deep, passionate kiss.

The two of you fall asleep soon after. A tangle of limbs and your head tucked under his chin, on his chest. However when you open your eyes again you are alone. The only sign of Aemonds company the previous night being your own nakedness and a few marks he had left on you that would be easily covered up.

The real shock comes when you get back to school on monday. Meeting up with the Baratheon sisters as every morning, you are surprised to see only Cassandra and Floris. Who look tired. Well, Floris looks tired and quite sad. Cas looks as unbothered as ever, if not a bit happy.

“Where did you leave Maris?” You ask coming to a stop in front of them.

“Didn´t you hear? She killed herself two days ago…” Floris reveals with a quiet voice. Your heart sets out for a beat at the news.

“Yeah, where have you been all weekend?” Cas adds.

“I- I don´t know… I´m sorry for what happened with your sister. You put your sunglasses back on and leave them to find Aemond.

“Hey.” You great him with a small peck.

“What is going on? You look like someone just died.” He remarks, pulling you close to him and placing another peck to your cheek.

“My best friend just killed herself.” You murmur.

“Don´t you mean your worst enemy?” He replies with a small grin.

“Same difference.” Still bewildered by the happenings of this morning, you shake your head and then go to class with Aemond.

Only to learn then that you would all get a half day off. A half day seemed to be fairly less for a student just committing suicide in your opinion, especially one as influential as Maris, but then again she also enjoyed more fame than during her life. So at least she couldn´t complain. You felt a bit bad for entertaining that thought. Then again with how many lifes she had ruined...

Going to school after that was even worse for weeks. Everyone was romanticizing Maris´ reign of terror, Cassandra silently took over what her sister had started, or at least tried to and you? Well, you only ever got away from it all when you spent time away from it with Aemond, who seemed surprisingly chill, if not smug about the bully being out of the way. The two of you get closer quick during that time. He is the most understanding boyfriend you could have ever wished for. Even his few quirks are cute. Yet he keeps his darker sides safely tucked away from you. At least for now, he vows himself. Who would have known it could get even worse.

When you enter the school building the next day, everyone is staring at you, talking to their friends in hushed whispers. At first you assume it was the usual whispers, but when Cas comes up to you, you quickly get taught better.

“You little bitch. I never knew you were that kind of person.” She says with a wide complacent grin firm on her face.

“What are you even talking about, Cas? What the hell is going on here? What is everyone talking about?” You hiss. Gripping Aemond´s hand slightly, who seemed just as confused as you were. Though he was more successful in concealing his feelings.

“Shouldn´t you know what you did? “ your supposed friend feigns innocence. It really makes you want to slap the holier than thou look off her face.

“Just. Tell. Me.” You make sure to put emphasis on every single word.

“Qyle and Cregan are going around telling everyone you blew them.” She holds her hand in front of her mouth to hide her giggle.

Without another word, you stomp past her. Running around the next corner, where Aemond stops you.

“Hey. Hey! Angel, where are you going?” He questions. Holding you by the shoulders.

“To those stupid… fucking…” You let out an undefinable sound of frustration. “They may get away with harassing the all the girls of this entire school, but not me.”

“You have to take a breath and calm down.” He says in a low voice as to not attract any more attention.

“Don’t tell me to calm down.” You seethe, but at least you stop marching through the mass of other students.

“Calm down.” He reiterates. “I already have a plan.”

Right in that moment however the bell rings signaling the start of first period. And it is pure horror. The whispers all around you echo in your head even when it is entirely silent. Teachers drone on and on about topics that you couldn´t get less of a shit about. Cassandra and Floris arent´t any help with any of it either of course. With how nice Floris tended to be it was easy to forget who they were sometimes. Time stretches endlessly until you reach home. Sitting down on your bed, you wait for the telltale sign of Aemond coming over. By now the knocking on the window doesn´t even startle you anymore. The opposite is the case. Whenever you hear it, your heart instinctively skips a beat. Just like it does now. You open the window and watch Aemond hop inside. Greeting him with one, two, three little pecks to the lips you pull him to the bed with you by the lapels of his leather jacket. Barely separating from him as you do so, you grin against his lips at the way his large hands grab your hips to pull your body close to his.

“I missed you so much.” He hums against your mouth between kisses.

“We haven´t seen each other for two hours.” You giggle. Running a gentle hand over his chest as the fingernails of the other massage his neck.

“I know and it felt like an eternity.” Aemond all but growls against your neck. Biting it lightly, before sucking a mark into the supple flesh.

You let out a trembling whine at the tingling feeling his lips chase down your spine. The needy sound followed by an amused chuckle from him.

“So, your still out for revenge?” He growls against your neck.

“Yes.” You answer just a bit more breathless than before.

“Good.” Aemond pulls away from you and throws two guns beside you on the bed. Startled by them, you jump back. Looking at the blond, who returns it with a smug expression.

“Aem, I want to pay them back not murder them!” You shriek, settling down a good bit away from the weapons. He on the other hand is eerily calm.

“Do you take german?” He asks as he sits down and takes your hands.

“French.” You answer still on edge.

“These are `Ich lüge´ bullets. My grandpa stole a shitload of them in WW2, they´re like tranquilizers. Only they break the surface of the skin enough to cause a little blood.” Aemond explains as he dumps a handful of bullets between the guns.

“So… It looks like the person has been shot, but really they are just unconscious and bleeding?” You ask just to be sure. The sight of the weapons made you feel all kinds of bad.

He nods. “We shoot Cregan and Kyle, it looks like they shot each other and by the time they regain consciousness, they´ll be the laughing stock of the whole school.”

“And what is that for?” You point to the folded paper that lies between the bullets.

“That is the cherry on top. A fake suicide note. Painting the whole thing as them killing themselves, because they knew they would never be accepted for being a gay couple.” Aemond snickers and you have to admit that the plan in all it´s simplicity sounds pretty good.

Taking your phone you send a text to Cregan. Luring him and Qyle into the woods behind the school under the guise of wanting to have a threesome with the two of them. Knowing full well it would get them where you wanted. Throwing your phone to the bed with a nervous giggle, you feel Aemond crawl on top of you. The weight of his taller frame pushing you into the mattress as his lips find yours again.

When you enter the woods and Aemond kisses you one last time, before you hide your gun and he goes to hide in the trees, your whole body trembles with uncertainty.

“Hey, Dollface.” Cregan greets you.

The two guys come to a stand about five feet away from you. “So, how are we gonna start this?” Qyle adds to his friend. Wasting no time as always.

“I thought you two could start by undressing for me.” You flutter your lashes at them, voice like honey in their ears.

“Okay.” The two of them say in unison. Nodding before they all but tearing the clothes of their body, stripping down to their boxers. The three of you count to three and right as they want to rip off the last piece of fabric down too your plan sets in action. Aemond jumps out from behind a nearby tree, the pair of you whip out the guns and aim for the half naked and afraid boys. Aemond hits Qyle right in the chest and he drops to the ground right where he stood. You are less lucky, missing Cregan by only an inch. He turns to see his friend lie on the ground, in a growing puddle of his own blood and makes a run for it. Your heart starts pounding in your chest even harder than before, if that even is possible. Threatening to break out of your ribcage as you watch Aemond´s face contorts into a grimace of anger.

“Shit! You stay here, I´m getting him.” He barks, chasing after a screaming Cregan.

It´s silent where you remain alone. Making you wonder what is going on. In the same breath your eyes fall down to Qyle´s body. The blood still pools underneath his body, prompting your thoughts run off the rails with crazy theories.

It isn´t until Aemond chases Cregan back to you, where he finally shoots him as well. The burly body flopping to the ground like a sack of potatoes. With horror you see your worst theory come true. They are both dead. Aemond killed them. And you helped him. A scream leaves your lips and you throw the weapon in your hand away on instinct. Clasping your hands over your mouth as the shock seeps in.

“No. No, no, no, no.” You mumble more to yourself than anyone else really. You are frozen to the spot you are standing in and if it were up to you, you would fall to your knees then and there. But Aemond takes your hand and pulls you away from the crime scene.

You don´t come to until you are in his car, in front of your house. You feel empty, detached from reality. Your body functions on autopilot. Putting a cigarette into your mouth to even somehow try to cope with the stress of what you had just become witness to. However when you lift up the lighter, the flame licks at the skin of your palm instead. You let out an agonizing scream and tears immediately shoot into your eyes at the white, hot pain.

The funeral a week later is a rough one. Even rougher than Maris´. The way the Septon plays up the gay martyr part is unbelievable. Aemond´s presence by your side doesn´t give you any comfort any more either. You can barely look at him anymore. Over the course of the past days your mind had started to come back from what lead you there, but it also distanced itself from him. Only able to see that side of him that he had hidden so well. All you want to do is hide under your blanket for the rest of your life, instead you have to sit in that gods forsaken sept, feeling sorry for Floris and Sarah, Cregan´s half-sister and your ex best friend, who seem to be taking this the hardest. You knew that Floris and Cregan, despite him being a total goon, had been kind of on and off for a while. The two of them didn´t deserve this. Fuck, the bad conscience was eating away at you, making you nauseaus. Of course, Aemond is entirely calm. Not letting a single soul see behind the carefully strung up curtain. Even though you imagine to see the same small smug smirk in his face again that he had expressed while explaining his plan to you all those days back.

Repressing the urge to run out of the sept, you pick at the skin around your fingernails until they bleed.

Once the service is over, you get onto Aemond´s motorcycle and let him drive you home. No matter how hard it is to keep holding on to him and not dissociate the whole ride. Your mind makes up then and there, that this has to end. You have to end this.

That night when he comes over, you sit him down.

“We um… We need to talk.” You mumble. Still not meeting his eye. He had already noticed your inability to do so since that day, but until now he thought you would catch yourself again after an initial shock. A mistake he noted mentally to never do again.

“What do you want to talk about?” He feigns ignorance, though he full well has a perfect idea of what you want to talk about.

“I… We… I can´t do this anymore, Aemond.” You stammer out, your leg trembling under his hand that rests on your thigh.

“Cannot do what anymore, Angel?” His one seeing eye rests on you as intensely as ever.

“This. Us. I thought I could cope with what we have done, but I can´t. I can´t look at you like before anymore. The sight of their… bodies… still haunts me in my dreams.” You try to find the right words to express your feelings and still it feels like the severity of them doesn´t come out right.

“You can´t be serious about that.” He faltered. Despite having a feeling about what you were gonna say, he still feels floored by it. His heart hurting at your words.

“I am. I never wanted this. “ Your voice hardens as you get more confident about your decision.

“You wanted this too. You said you wanted revenge.” Aemond insists.

“Yes, I wanted revenge. I did not ask for this. Two people are dead!” You try to get through to him. To no avail.

“You didn´t seem to mind much when Maris died.” He blurts out. It´s entirely in the heat of the moment. And he regrets revealing it to you like that, but it is out nonetheless.

“What?” You shriek in response. “I thought Maris killed herse…”

The thought of the fakes suicide note for Cregan and Qyle enters your mind and you hide your face in your hands, fighting back the tears that sting in your eyes.

“Please just leave…” Your voice comes muffled from behind your hands. Opting to leave your face buried in them as you speak the defeated words.

“Angel, I am not just going to leave you. We can talk about this.” He takes your wrists in his hands and pulls them down to your lap.

“What is there to talk about? You killed three people!” You pulled your arms away from him, but his grip was too strong.

“Yes, but I did it for you.” He argues.

“How was any of that for me?” Your voice drips with disbelieve.

Aemond comes closer to you until he whispers against your lips. “They hurt you. I will never let anyone hurt you.”

Then he presses his lips to yours roughly. His tongue pushes into your mouth forcefully, stunning you into an overpowering inability to act, as he pushes you against the headboard. The way his lips move against yours is aggressive, making you cry out in search for help or to get him to stop. Just something, anything to make him stop. It takes several more moments for your brain to return to the situation, but once it does you start struggling with all your might. Biting his lip and kicking him away from you, finally sets you free from his assault.

“I want you to go. Now.” You say quietly but with as much certainty as you can put into your voice. He turns around and leaves. Surprisingly without another word. Yet your body stays on edge until long after he is gone.

Your arms wrapped tightly around your middle, you shiver from your nerves processing everything that had been revealed and happened. Unable to really cope with it yet. Despite not having really liked them your friends where dead and only the gods knew what Aemond would do next.

That night you get haunted by him in your dreams.

You find yourself in the Baratheon´s dark kitchen. Aemond in front of you, looking for a knife. For some reason you know Cassandra is going to be his next victim. Yet, no matter how hard you try to speak and keep him from going through with his fucked up plan, you can´t. Not a single sound comes from your lungs. With panic you watch as he grabs a dirty knife from the dishwasher and goes into Cas´ room. In the complete dark you can´t see exactly what he does, you can only see the world go dark around you seconds later, feeling like you are falling into a bottomless pit, you wake up with a gasp. Sweat soaking your pillow and your chest heaving with short heavy bursts of breath while your heart threatens to break out if it. You know you have to stop him, before what the dream is foreboding becomes reality. He is incalculable, dangerous and whatever he does end up doing next, can´t happen under any circumstances. You spend the whole day trying to make out a plan, not paying attention to any of your teachers or Floris and Cassandra. Not a single idea your brain comes up with is good enough to work. Luckily it also makes you ignore the weird looks your friends are giving you over your unresponsiveness.

Saying goodbye to them when they drop you of in the afternoon, you plan to head to your room immediately. A plan that is thwarted by your parents, who await you in the living room, worried expressions on both of their faces.

“Darling! We need to talk to you for a moment.” Your mother speaks up first. Seemingly relieved to see you alive and well.

“Sure, what´s going on?” Your mind is still half busy with Aemond when you put down your bag in front of you.

“Aemond just dropped by. Saying all these things about how we should look out for you, that he was worried for you…” Your mom´s voice is shaky as she recalls on the memories of what had happened so shortly before you arrived.

“Did he say something else?” You say passively. Inside you are boiling already. Who does he think he is?

“He said you confessed some rather alarming urges to him. That you shouldn´t be left alone with sharp objects or… or that kind of stuff.” Your father holds your mother a little tighter to calm her down again. You truly feel sorry for them. How could they know that what they have been told was as wrong as it possibly could have been.

“I´m sorry… But I´m not… That´s not true. You know I´d talk to you if there was anything going on.” You assure them.

You try to spend more time with them, but once your parents start to believe you, you make your way back to your room. Your mind is finally made up on what to do. If talking to him wouldn´t help to get him to stop killing, maybe you could shock him into it. Hopefully. He did used say, that the extreme always makes an impression. Taking your bedsheets you tie them around your body in a way that allows you to make it look like you had hung yourself. For once it would come in handy that he had never stopped texting you. Hurrying to get done before you hear that accursed knock. Tipping over the chair you use in your preparations mere seconds before he lets himself in. No matter how much you want to move or even at least open your eyes, you force yourself to stay calm. No matter how unfamiliar the air under your forcefully relaxed feet feels and your lungs hurt from the flat breaths you can allow yourself at most to take. Blissfully unaware to the gun hidden in the back of his pants, with which he planned gods know what. While he doesn´t move or breath or speak for a short moment. Frozen in a shock not deep enough to hold him for long.

It seems you have underestimated his crazy. Mentally you curse yourself out aggressively so that you almost miss him beginning to speak to you.

I can´t believe you did it.” He says in a breathy tone and you can hear his hands slap against his thighs as if he had raised them in defeat beforehand. “I loved you. Sure I was coming in here ready to kill you, but… I at least would´ve wanted to tell you about this petition the whole school signed first. Of course they don´t know what they really signed up for, but that won´t be any of their concern anymore soon. Oh Angel, it´s a shame you don´t get to see this play out anymore. I have the perfect plan. During pep rally on Friday the whole school is gonna come down and everyone in there with it. Listen to this. We, the students of King´s Landing high, will die. Our bodies will be the ultimate protest against you. A society that churns out slaves and blanks. Fuck you all.”

He was even further gone than you would´ve thought or hoped. “It´s not very subtle, but a school blowing up, that´s big. The kind of big that infects a generation. The only place Baratheons and Snows can get along is in heaven. We could´ve united them together, you and I… you left me no choice. So I will do it alone if I must.”

By now he is breathless from the passion that is no doubt not only in his voice but also his heart. The clicking of a lighter registers over the ringing of sheer panic in your ears, followed by the faint footsteps and mumbling of your mother. Aemond is quick to sneak back out the window and you are just about to open your eyes back up and take a deep breath, when the door opens behind you and your poor mothers scream can be heard throughout the entire house.

Hurrying, you untie the bedsheets with shaky hands, hurting your knees in the process of falling to the ground, but you don´t care. All you care about is getting to your mom. Hugging her weak, sobbing form to your body as tightly as you can. Soothing her as best as possible, but the damage has been done you guess and you really can´t blame her. If you would have been in her place you wouldn´t have reacted or felt any other way.

“It´s okay, mom. I´m okay, I´m still here. It wasn´t real.” It´s safe to say, that after all of that you don´t sleep well. Or at all really. How could you after Aemond has told you what would happen next. You want to stop him, feel like you have to stop him, even more so now that your plan has failed so miserably. If anything you´re under the impression of having worsened the state his soul is in.

For two whole days you have to watch school go by without anything out of the ordinary happening. Which just makes the bad feelings in your gut swirl even more intensely. Yet, at the same time, there is a strange calm inside your mind. There certainly, realistically, is very little you can do to keep Aemond from doing what he wants to do. But at least if, or rather when, you go down on Friday, you don´t go down by being by Aemond´s side, watching the smoke pour out the doors. Making s´mores over the burning remains of your dead school mates. This was sick. A whole parade of red flags. A perverted power fantasy, that you can´t believe you didn´t notice before. In those days you have more people than you are willing to count come after you, questioning how you are still alive. How did the stupid rumors always spread the fastest and furthest?

The poor guidance counselor is who almost suffers from you losing your nerves over it, on the day of. You are quick to apologize as well though.

“I am so sorry, I´d be glad to talk about this another day, now I really have something more important to do.” You let the man behind, that still opens and closes his mouth like a fish on land.

Marching through the masses of students on their way to the gym. Scared shitless, but still determined to put an end to this if you can. It was high time you pulled your shit together anyway. Finding Aemond in the boiler room, he is already busy setting up multiple explosives.

“Hey!” You pull his attention away from the dynamite.

“Greetings and salutations. Come to change your mind?” He inquired.

“No. Never! Gods, how delusional are you to think that anyone would join you in this madness! You are no better than your mother.” You take another step closer to him. The venom in your tone gets him to stay silent for once. However he still doesn´t stop fiddling with the bombs.

“Put that down, slowly and then put your hands behind your head.” You put your hand in the pocket of your cardigan to grab your fathers hunting knife in case you´d need it. Pulling it out you earn a genuinely amused chuckle, then everything goes too fast for you to react properly. Aemond kicks the weapon out of your hand, letting it slide out of your reach, and knocks you out with a few , for him very simple, movements. Sinking to the ground you barely stay conscious long enough to see him walk further into the basement of the building. Fuck. The already quiet sounds of the pep rally become even more quiet over the dull thudding in your head and then darkness claims you.

You don´t know how long you have been out once your eyes open again. Thankful for the low light of the rooms you are in, you tumble towards the direction you saw Aemond leave in. Holding on tightly to the wall or anything you can find to keep the dizziness from knocking you off your feet again. Too busy to hear your scuffling steps, you can grab the gun he had brought and laid down beside himself.

“I said put it down… and hands behind your head…” The sentence is broken up by your heavy breathing.

One of his hands shoots to the side to check for the missing gun. Raising them over his head almost immediately and turning around to you slowly.

“Angel, come on. You know you can´t shoot me so why don´t you just put down the gun and join me? I´m giving you one last chance.” His tone is still smug, but you can hear a hint of fear shine through the overconfidence.

Scoffing, you shake your head at his inability to even now be real with his feelings. “Just turn off the bombs.”

Behind his eye you can see his brain mulling over every possible outcome to this situation. Surprising you, by complying to with you have just said. Putting his hands behind his head, the feeling of the imminent danger of the situation subsides from your system and you finally hear the voices from upstairs again. Having had enough of talking you wave for him to go outside with the gun, which you hold safely in both hands. Due to everyone being still in the gym and none the wiser as to what was going on not too far away from them. In front of you Aemond pushes the big front doors open for both of you to step outside.

Standing still, he turns to you again. Eye half closed and so close to you that if either of you were to move, your lips would most definitely touch.

“You know what you need to do now.” He murmurs. The way his breath fans over your face so warm and for a moment you feel set back to the beginning of your relationship. When everything was still okay or at least as okay as it could be.

“I don´t want to have to do it.” You whisper back.

“There is no other way to end this anymore now. I am far too damaged, but you are not beyond repair. Please… Stand back now. You know it had to end this way. No matter how much you wished it didn´t.” Aemond takes a step back himself and stretches his arms out to the side.

You take a deep breath and as you take a step away from him remind yourself of everything he had done and wanted to do. Looking up at him you ask him in a voice void of emotion.

“Any last words?”

“I worship you. So much. I´ll trade my life for yours.”

With a heart heavier than it should be, you point the gun back at the man who you had thought was the only one to ever truly understand you. Then, before your brain can have the chance to think twice about it your actions, you pull the trigger.

The shot rings in your ears long after it is over. The sight of Aemond falling to the ground like a sack of potatoes, filling you with a great void of nothingness. Still you stay there for a few more minutes. Lighting yourself a cigarette and waiting for that atrocious ringing to stop. A part of you still hopes to wake up and have all of this be a nightmare, but you never wake up and the cigarette is entirely done. So you throw the damned thing away, drop the gun on Aemond´s lifeless body and get back inside where everyone is flooding the hallways.

Ignoring Cassandra´s comments and protest, you march past her, taking Floris by the hand and walk over to Sarah who is sitting alone on the stairs.

“Ladies, there is a new sheriff in town. And the way I see it, all three of us are still free tonight. So, I propose we buy snacks and watch movies at my place all night.” You say with a conciliatory smile.

The two girls look happy about the suggestion. About as happy as they can look under the given circumstances and together the three of you decide to cut the school day a bit shorter and go now.

#aemond #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x you #aemond targaryen x you #hotd #house of the dragon #hotd fic #house of the dragon fic #hotd x reader #hotd x you #modern aemond #hotd modern au #modern hotd #modern house of the dragon au

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 1 year ago

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AITA for not defending an ex-friend when people called her a slut?

I (20 f) fell out with my best friend and roommate M (20 f) at the end of sophomore year of college. reason we fell out isn't the main subject of this post but I think it's relevant so I'll try and keep it as brief as possible.

For context I'm Black attending a VERY white school. Frenshman year I was the only black girl in my building and this was just post-covid so student groups were pretty dead. So first trimester most of my college friends were the girls from my floor including M (white) and S (20f, asian american). It was very isolating tbh, esp bc I experienced a lot of microaggressions, but the girls I befriended were pretty good at sharing my outrage and letting me confide in them.

The worst incident was when at a party, a guy (G, white) made some very racist comments towards me and in general (said the n-word a few times). I admit I escalated it by engaging w him and the whole thing got out of hand, a lot of people saw, and he got a reputation as a racist. Afterwards, he was always rude to me, blaming me for egging him on while drunk and just constantly making disrespectful comments about me and my 'attitude' where i could hear. no one ever said anything to his face but were supportive of me after the fact - S was always particularly supportive and said she could relate.

I was generally fine with avoiding G esp in sophomore year when we moved out. I lived with M and another friend (P) and it went pretty well. We were asked in like November if we would renew our lease, and though M and I wanted to the third friend didn't, so we began to think of replacements, and S was looking for a place.

Thing is, while S and I were still on good terms I felt like she was being a bit secretive w me. She'd often come over and talk privately w M and I got the gist she was seeing someone and didn't want me to know. I shook it off as us growing apart and the fact I'd gotten more involved in Black student groups and hadn't hung around with our dorm friends as much, but then in Jan, as we were planning to sign the new lease, I found out she was dating G. Tbh at this point we weren't even close friends that I felt a strong personal betrayal, but more so I was mad at them both for not telling me while making plans for us to live together. They knew I was uncomfortable around G and wouldn't want to live w his gf, esp without knowing. It felt like they were almost purposefully going behind my back.

I didn't do anything at the time, just slowly backed out of the lease renewal and made other arrangements. I stopped hanging out with S almost completely and was just cordial w her and took a big step back from M and our dorm friends.

The other relevant bit of context here is M had a boyfriend (T, 20 m) who was in our freshman dorm and very close to our year one friends (lived with them sophomore year and now junior year too). She broke up w him in Feb, which led to a lot of her friendships w our dorm friends (her only friends really) to deteriorate a bit, esp as she was no longer super comfy hanging around where he was. this especially became an issue in the spring trimester bc she got a new boyfriend over the break, a friend from her classes T hadn't liked.

So, M kept pressuring me to hang out w her and our dorm friends a lot more, which inevitably meant seeing S and now G, who they'd all decided they were cool being around when I distanced myself. I told her why i didn't want to and I didn't want to see G again but she promised he had 'changed' and wouldn't say anything to me. eventually I folded and went out w them all once and it honestly sucked. M completely abandoned me to be w her other friends, G didn't say anything but kept glaring at me the whole time, and I felt very out of place. afterwards I told M i was sorry, I know she felt awkward around her ex without me, but I wouldn't do that again.

She left it till like the end of the year then there was a big dinner she really wanted to go to that T would be at (her bf was not invited), w all our dorm friends. I kept saying I wouldn't go, but then she told me she checked w the hosts and confirmed (and promised) G wouldn't be coming. I said okay but asked we sit next to each other and made it clear how I felt around S etc, and she agreed and promised we would. Long story short G was there, I wound up next to S and across from him snickering at me the whole time, with her on the other end of the table. I texted M about it, she said it was 'fine' and I was imagining it and to try and enjoy the gathering.. yeah no. I dipped before desert, she chased me outside asking what was up and I explained why i was upset, she said i can't expect her to be there for me the whole night and she's allowed to 'have a good night without my drama,' i said racism wasn't drama and she literally dragged me along to deal with her drama, nevermind my comfort, and that she was an incredibly selfish friend for putting me in this position. I left, she wound up crying with everyone comforting her, everyone there (M included) went off at me for being an unsupportive friend/dredging up year old drama with G/overall making everything about race, I cut them all off and moved my stuff into my girlfriend's place a week after all this and didn't speak to anyone since.

which is pretty much all the backstory (longer than the main bit, sorry), that gets us to the actual AITA situation. Junior year starts, I'm at a welcome back party w some other friends and i'm vaguely aware my old dorm friends (including S and G) are also here, but it's a huge party and i'm w my very supportive friends who ik will back me if anything happens so i dont really care. eventually M arrives w her bf, gives me an awkward look but doesn't say anything to me.

Then at some point, I'm upstairs using the bathroom and I hear the girls from our dorm group speaking to M in the hallway. Apparently it came out over summer she'd hooked up w her new boyfriend before she ended things with T and they were all pissed at her (esp for her playing the victim w her ex). I tried to stay in the bathroom until the conversation ended but someone was pounding on the door and I wound up having to get out and waddle past them awkwardly to get back downstairs. When I got out one of the girls was calling M a slut and other names and while i tried to avoid it I accidentally made eye contact with M, who was super upset and crying. I kinda just shrugged and went downstairs.

Later that night i got a long ass message from her new bf about how he knows I'm upset with her but it wasn't fair for me to just leave her in that situation, and that it was petty and selfish of me (esp bc I'm usually the person calling out this shit). I spoke to my gf, and she said she understands why i did nothing but also that it's never okay for people to call someone a slut. I agree with that 100% and in any other case i might have tried to diffuse the situation (like if it was safe and I thought I could). I've told a couple friends who think I did nothing wrong and it wasn't fair to expect me to say smth when she never said/did anything to defend me and that she had it coming, but my mom told me I should've done the kind thing and not stoop to their level and it's made me feel really bad. I think I might be TA bc i could have stood up for her without anything bad happening to me beyond being in an uncomfortable convo, and also bc it kinda felt good seeing her friends turn on her? Like she threw me under the bus to be in their good books and defend them and they dropped her ass anyway, and if I acted from a vengeful place then thats asshole-y of me. but also no one in this story has apologised to me once and as my friend says its not fair to rely on black ppl to fix racist white ppls mess.

so, AITA?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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