#trance army

[marveltournaments]

[youryanderedaddy]

Tw: captivity, obsessive behavior, made up fantasy lore, mind fuck (?)

He never calls for you - he only ever sends his servants, poor, confused little creatures of the night once lost just like you. They gather at your door like an army of darkness, scratching and biting at the delicate wooden frame, howling piteously with full chest until you're faced with the choice of either opening the door, or suffocating yourself with the fluffy white pillow. You give in after what feels like an appropriate time - not too soon as to feed his ever - growing ego, yet not so late that the creatures' heads start to roll under your nose.

You slowly walk down the endless corridor, refusing to look at anything for longer than a second - even as it calls to you with the sweetest voice of desire. Everything is enchanted to the very last candle on the wall. The countless paintings depict wealth and opulence beyond your wildest dreams, an adundance of riches upon riches, of honeycomb amber and pure green emeralds. The silk carpet is as soft as a dandelion just before it bursts open, and the crystal chandelier embarks such a soft light the human eye can never properly adjust to the tender shades of yellow and blue. The castle is tempting you with every passing breath - begging you to stay here forever. Begging you to love it, and everyone inside - especially His Majesty, the Lord.

You try to calm your disheveled thoughts as you carefully open the heavy gates to the throne room. Your breath hitches deep into your throat as your eyes gaze upon the feast spread out before you, and suddenly you're starving like a wolf. By now you should know better than to let yourself be lured in by magic - but the pull is too magnetic and you quickly find yourself stepping closer to the piled up table. You take in the smell with unsatiated hunger - golden apples baked inside fine sugar crystals, tender deer fillet dripping with berry sauce and smokey mushrooms, the sort you can only find inside an enchanted forrest. Cream puffs and mountains of stripped ice soaked in jam and vanilla essence upon stacks of fruit and more goblets of red wine than you can count. And yet he remains ever the centerpiece of the vision.

"You're late, mona grece tide*." His voice slowly fills the room with its overbearing softness, always on the verge of dropping into silence. It's painful to look at him - as if everything about the mythical man was created a touch too symmetrical, to the point where the sharp features all blend together. His lips are too full, his eyes - if the golden slits beneath his brows may be called that, are way too bright under the sun, and they reflect a time you don't wish to remember. And his hair is so long and pale, so very white and smooth, you have to stop your hands from reaching into the wounded transparency of his wild locks, less you want to lose a finger or two.

"Tidea." Khaal snaps his finger more aggressively when you don't respond to his call the first time. You squint in an attempt to block the light coming from the tiny cracks in his face - the birth lines of his dragon. "Sit down. Don't make me come to you."

Tide. Tidea. Love, as you eventually learnt the meaning of the word in Lohemian. My little love, the words still rest on his tongue, because what are you if not a small, fragile human?

"I'd hate to inconvenience you so, my Lord." You eventually bite back, breaking out of the trance. Slipping in and out of consciousness and constantly guessing your surroundings is taking a toll on you, but you'll lose your sanity before you give into his madness. "Touching a filthy human like myself will surely sully your pretty golden flakes." You smile with venom, tearing into the nearest sun-pear. He watches the juice drip down your chin with angry narrowed eyes, and with another swift snap of his fingers he's standing before you, towering above.

"Insolent child, you are." He grips your face carelessly, inspecting it from all sides before finally materializing a clean cloth and wiping you clean. "You're foolish just like any other human." His brows twist together with anger, but his expression remains angelic to the untrained eye. "I can give you everything you've ever wanted. The sun at your feet, the moon on your shoulders. All the knowledge of the world." His fingers suddenly stop rubbing along your jawline and his gaze falls upon your cold, quivering lips. "All I ask in return is your loyalty." His sharp nail begins stroking your lower lip. It doesn't draw blood, but you wish it would. You can't stand the anticipation - the moment before the violence entails.

"Don't let your eyes wander. Gift me your warmth." The dragon king pulls you closer to his chest, and all fight leaves you. His form is perfectly defined with thousand metal - like flakes, one on top of the other like a flawless shield. It's probably a great weapon on the battlefield - but it lacks the naked vulnerability of human skin, and it's so cold it hurts to stand close, much less touch it directly. "Look at me!" He suddenly roars, and you fall back from the sheer power of his voice.

Everything hurts - as if the floor is suddenly melting, you feel like you will never stop falling down.

"I can't. It's too painful." You whisper weakly between hoarse broken sobs threatening to tear off your heart in two. "I wasn't made for this world, f-for your... world." You bite your lips, averting eyes to the ground. "Everything in you wants me dead. Your love will kill me." You whimper, squeezing your left hand to your chest. The dead weight of the broken bone is pulling you down, luring you deeper into sleep.

"I'd like to see you try, mon'tidea." He sinks down to your level, quick as a shadow. Stealing a kiss as light as a sparrow, he pushes you down. "Die as many times as you want. You'll always end up here in my arms." His lips are grazing your ear, warm breath hitting your neck. Another illusion, you realize - his body can't create warmth. It's simply reflecting your warmth back to you. "Because once you enter my realm, there's no coming back."

[minihotdog]

Caught Red Handed // Part 1

Summary: Soap Catches His Roommate Reading an Erotic Novel

Part 2

Pairing: John "Soap" Mactavish x Fem!Reader

a/n: Most likely gonna be a follow up fic for this, already brainstorming

c/w: oral (F receiving), a little penetration

word count: 2k

***

You sat on the end of the couch curled up in a blanket, completely enthralled by the book in your hands. Your nose is buried inside the pages and you only move to readjust your glasses every once in a while.

Soap saunters into the kitchen to get some water, noticing you in a trance-like state as he reaches for a glass. He calls your name to no avail. Eventually, he gives up and plops down on the other end of the couch and your eyes rip away from the book to him. You cautiously put the book down on your lap, hoping he hadn’t caught some of the words.

“What are ye readin’ tha’ has ye blushin’ like tha’?”

“Huh?” You pretend to not know what he’s talking about and try, nonchalantly, to cover the book with your blanket. “Oh, it’s nothing. I’m just a little warm.”

He eyes you, not believing a word of what you’re saying and you try to play it off as if your soul didn’t jump out of your skin from him interrupting you while reading the most filthy paragraphs of your life. 

Soap raises an eyebrow at you, a smirk appears on his face. Heat continues to rise to your face as his muscles bulge while he scratches the back of his neck. He always lounged around in a pair of gray sweats, chest exposed. You always assumed you were used to it until you were close enough to take all of him in. The Scottish flag on his left pec and a quote on his ribs you had yet to get close enough to read, and worst of all, the sheer size of him. 

“Yer full o’ shite,” He accuses you playfully. “Let me see then?” The two of you stare at each other for a moment before you toss the blanket at him as a distraction and take off running. He fights off the blanket and is hot on your heels as you try to hide the book in your room. 

He comes up behind you and snatches it from your hands. 

“Johnny! No!” He holds the book above his head and you’re jumping up, trying to take it from him.

“Alright, alright. I’ll give it back.” You put your hand out and he turns, running into his room. You follow him only for the door to shut in your face with a click.

“Give me my book back!” You try to open the door, banging on it when it won’t budge.

“Be quiet, I’m readin’.” He shouts through the door.

You put your forehead on the door, cursing yourself for reading such a thing when you had someone like him around. 

“Why’s there a big lad wearin’ a kilt on the front?”

Your eyes close and your hands cover your face. You stood there about to die of embarrassment thinking about how this couldn’t get any worse, until…

“His body was as hard as steel, forged frae generations of resistance against the soothern British armies - fuckin’ Brits -.” He murmurs the last bit before continuing. “Her hands ran ower his muscles as he slid his throbbin’ member intae her soaked…WOAH!”

“Johnny, stop!” You plea for him to stop reading. Your ears hurt at the sound of it being read out loud.

The room falls silent for a while and you call out his name once again. The quiet fuels your embarrassment. It feels like a thousand years go by before he opens the door and stands in the frame, holding the book at his waistline. He points at you with a wicked smile,

“Oh, yer a dirty, lass.” You snatch the book from him and stop towards your room.

“John Mactavish, you are so nosey!” He laughs as you shut and lock your door so you can read in peace.

***

You tip-toe out of your room, not quite ready to confront your roommate after the events earlier in the day. You poked your head into the kitchen, seeing his mohawk peaking over the other side of the half wall separating the two rooms. You quietly enter the kitchen, turning your back to him to try and open the refrigerator, hoping that the TV is loud enough to cover the sound of the door opening.

“Y/n, ye done being mad?” He taunts, resting with his forearms on the half wall, looking right at you. You stick your tongue out at him and he chuckles. He never took you seriously when you were mad at him. To piss you off, he’d often tell you that you reminded him of one of those little dogs, angry as hell and completely unaware of how small they were.

He motions to the couch, “Come watch a movie wit me.” You shake your head and he whines, “O’ c’mon, y/n.” 

“Fiiiine.”

You walk over and sit on the other end of the small couch, your nerves building up in your stomach. Soap is wrapped up in your blanket. You glance over at him as you rub the fabric on your pj shorts. He scratches his scruff and his eyes slowly meet yours. He wiggles his eyebrows at you, “Wha’s wrong, lass?”

Your eyes drop, heat rising to your cheeks from being caught staring.

“Nothing.”

“Lassie, there’s nothin’ wrong wit readin’ those types o’ books.” A mischievous smirk plays on his lips, “There’s nothin’ wrong wit wantin’ a big Scotsman tae throw ye around and fuck ye silly either.”

You hide yourself with your hands, not wanting him to see the horrified look on your face. He scoots over to you, wrapping you in a bear hug.

“Oh, innocent little y/n has a dark side, I cannae believe it!”

“Nooo!” You squeal, “Stop bringing it up!”

You turn to push him away but he locks an arm on both sides of the armrest behind you, trapping you. His blue eyes bore into your soul making you squirm.

“So, tell me, Ye read tha’ because ye like it? Or did ye wish it was another Scotsman ye know?” He tilts his head, looking up as if he’s trying to remember something. “His grasp on my throat tightened as his thrusts became harder, pushin’ me over the edge… Is that what she said?” You cover his mouth with your hands and he grabs your wrists in one hand, pulling them off. 

“I’ll make yer little dreams come true, just tell me ye want me.”

Your breath catches as you try to speak, “Johnny…” You’re left not knowing what to say to him. He catches you off guard, pulling you onto your back by your hips. His body forces your legs open and he rests his weight on his forearms. His lips graze your ear, “I see ye lookin’ me up and down all the time, lass.” His hand travels down your body to cup your pussy through your shorts. A wave of heat shoots through your body. “I hear ye moanin’ my name at night when ye play with yerself, now I catch ye readin’ a book about some lad wrecking a wee thing.” He pushes the hem against your clit and you grip his shoulders. 

“Jus’ admit it and I’ll be more than happy to give it to ye.” His hand grabs your jaw, giving it a taunting little shake. He holds himself above you, eyes glued to your lips, whispering, “C’mon, c’mon,” encouraging you to answer.

You find the courage to speak, the fire coursing through your body is unbearable.

“Johnny, please.”

“Please, what?”

“Please, fuck me.”

“Steamin’ bloody Jesus.” He mutters before coming down to kiss you, pressing his bulge against you through his sweats. His lips move with yours, his kiss leaves you feeling hypnotized. By the time he begins pulling your shorts down, you’re seeing stars. He throws the shorts off to the side and his fingers run over the wet patch on your panties. He lets out a shaky breath, and he takes in the sight of you. Legs spread for him with your nipples poking through your oversized t-shirt. Your big doe eyes watch his every move as he positions himself lower on the couch, throwing your legs over his back.

He kisses down your thighs, nipping at the soft flesh, until he reaches where you want him most. He leaves one last kiss on your clit through the fabric before pulling it down your legs. He groans, watching you drip for him. He parts your lips with his thumbs and licks a stripe up to your clit. “Oh, lass.” He moans, tasting you on his tongue. He leaves slow licks on your clit, savoring the small sounds he’s coaxing out of you. He looks up at you from between your legs,  as you squirm, 

“Quit fuckin’ tryin’ to get away fra’ me.” He wraps his arms around your thighs forcing them to squeeze his head and continues lapping at your clit. He was usually impatient when he was in this position, wanting to draw out the most erotic sounds from whoever he was blessed with his tongue, to drink from them like a man stuck in the desert. Of course, he would do the same to you, but at this moment he wanted to revel in what he had fantasized about doing for so long. His beloved roommate whom he dreamed of, and spent so many nights imagining beneath him had his head in between her legs. 

He closes his lips around your clit flicking it repeatedly. The attack on your sensitive nub has you arching your back. His name falls from your lips, your eyes clamp shut, one hand tangling in his overgrown mohawk and the other digging its nails into his arm. 

He goes back and forth from flicking your clit quickly and leaving long licks, lapping up your wetness. 

“Johnny,” You breathe out. His name being drawn out from you causes his cock to ache every single time. One of his hands rips your shirt up, exposing your breasts. He kneads the soft flesh, giving the mound a gentle slap. He moans when your hips move against his mouth.

“Oh, what a good girl.” He gives his head a shake, letting his tongue move with it. The motion has you mewling as your orgasm begins to build up. 

“Johnny, p-please I’m gonna-” Your words trail off as he eats you out like you’re his last meal. His scruff scratches against your thighs leaving the skin irritated as he bobs his head, licking away. His pace doesn’t slow when you gasp and begin squeezing around nothing. Your hand keeps him in place while you ride out your high. His name fills the room in a chant. Your body jerks violently as the waves continue hitting you even longer due to him not wanting to stop.

He cleans you up, groaning at the mess you made. His mouth leaves a gentle kiss on your overly sensitive clit before he rises from his position. He wipes his chin off, his eyes cloudy just like yours.

“Fuck, lass. Yer addictin’.” His rough calloused hands run over your curves. He pulls your shirt completely off and leans down to give you a deep kiss. He trails down leaving wet kisses all over your neck. He goes further, leaving hickeys on your breasts, catching one of your perky nubs in his mouth. He then licked from between your breasts and up your neck, giving you one more kiss before pulling away to free himself from his sweats. He kicks them off and kneels in front of you completely bare. The sight of him and his body has you dripping once again. His piercing blue eyes were darker than normal, his hair a mess from you holding onto it for dear life, his muscles contracting with every movement. Your eyes run over him, admiring every part of him until you get further down. 

“Oh dear god, Johnny.” You gasp. He lets go of his member and it slaps down on your stomach. He was long and thick, the head was bright red with a bead of precum threatening to fall from it. “No wonder you’re such a cocky ass.”

He laughs at your playful insult. 

“We’ll see how much talkin’ yer gonna be doing in a second.”

He rubs the tip on your sensitive clit causing you to jump. He teases you by running the length of his cock in between your pussy lips, collecting the wetness. Both your eyes are glued to the pornographic scene.

“I better never catch you readin’ one of those books again, lovie.”

“Why’s t-that?”

“Because I’m a better fuck than tha’ clown you were readin’ about.”

You roll your eyes at his cockiness. In all truth, he was a little upset that you were drooling over some scot in a book when you had him right here. His competitiveness with the fictional character was enough to fuel him. 

He positions his tip at your entrance, poking into you slightly.

“Alright, lass. Deep breath.” 

You listen, taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly.

“Ready?” He looks down at you with a gentle smile. You nod your head and he focuses back on your dripping core. “Finally got ye where I want ye.” He mutters, shifting his weight. The fat head of his cock slides into you, your eyes go wide and your mouth falls open.

[suksatoru]

HEAVEN AND BACK.

SUMMARY *ੈ✩‧₊˚ he's destroying a rivalry villain base when he finds you there, a prisoner. known to the world as a villain - Dabi becomes your hero.

Dabi could be very cruel sometimes.

It was instances like this where he knew he was born to cremate. To reduce the world to ashes and nothing more as he kills every low life he comes across. Each one more pathetic than the last, Dabi erases them all within seconds.

The Meta Liberation Army had given the League resources and access to facilities they could have only dreamed of before. The base they were on currently belonged to a rivalry villain group - one which the League despised. They were a pathetic group of people really, power hungry in all the wrong ways.

Dabi hears the sound of what seems like rattling chains from across the hall, and he pauses his movements in confusion, the man in front of him withering on the ground and pleading for mercy-

Dabi finishes him off before carefully making his way towards the source of the sound, his boots maneuvering through the bodies on the ground stealthily as he narrows his brows. Dabi thought he had cleared this floor.

He hears it again - it was unmistakable now, he had mistakingly left someone alive.

Dabi slams the door open with a single kick - it was reinforced with welded hinges, but it was no match for his flames - which melted the metal easily. He steps inside the dark room, hands raised and ready to end whatever unfortunate soul roamed inside.

He sees someone moving in the corner of his eye - the dim light concealing their figure. He moves his flames closer, attempting to shine some sort of a light on the stranger who so stupidly made no attempt to escape while Dabi was distracted with the other villains.

His flames glow in the dark, and he finally sees you, shackled to the ground with wide eyes trapped in a trance - like a deer caught in the headlights.

Your lip trembles as you tug on your restraints once again, a pitiful whimper leaving you as you glance at Dabi with a sheen of panic glossing your pretty eyes

Slowly, he lowers his hand. Trying to understand just what he'd stumbled upon.

A prisoner.

Dabi had a knack for figuring out what kind of people deserved to die. He liked to think that he's always been able to know who was worthy or living and who wasn't. But...

He makes no move to save or end you as he watches quietly, his hands lowered by his sides as gentle, blue sparks glowed from his large palms. His fingers curl into a fist as he remains utterly still, his gaze burning as hot as his flames as you tug again on the cuffs secured around your wrists. You're crying now - tears gliding down your soft cheeks as you peer up at him

You're so quiet, he notices. Even as you cry, not a sound leaves your throat as you keep tugging on those damned restraints. The sound of metal clinking against metal has Dabi snapping out of whatever trance he was in as he slowly takes a single step forward

Seeing him move closer has you kicking against the ground in a weak attempt to get away, backing yourself up against the wall as your eyes shake - hands fumbling as you tug harder and harder-

"Don't move."

You want to cry just at the sound of his voice. His tone sounded like if you did move, those flames you'd seen earlier would return as death finally takes you - it was so cruel. The whole world - that's all you can think as your squeeze your eyes shut and pray for him to not have some sort of an liking to watching his victims suffer as they burned.

You tuck your knees to your chest and lay your head down, your hands hanging limply as your breathing becomes erratic - you're scared. Absolutely terrified.

He uses one hand to hold both of your wrists in place as his fingers shove between your wrist and the metal around it. Slowly, he focuses his quirk to push through the thin space and melt the bounds around you. You don't look up - make no major movement as Dabi breaks them - the metal clangs noisily against the floor. Your breathing has calmed just the slightest bit by now, and you finally look up as you feel the dead weight lift off.

It's quiet as you wait for his next movements - anything that shows that he has intentions to hurt you, to kill you - but he's still kneeling beside you - palm flat against the wall beside your head as he watches your gaze flutter to his - you catch your lip in between your teeth once you realize what he'd done - an attempt to keep yourself from bursting into grateful tears.

"Can you stand?"

His hot breath tickles your ear, warm and the most soothing thing you've felt in so long. He tucks a single arm under yours when he's met with silence, easily bringing you to your feet as you quickly gain composure - breathing unevenly as you lean against the wall

Dabi's heart stutters in his chest when you turn and look at him like that.

Like he put the stars in the fucking sky.

You're sitting beside him in a very crowded get-away car, his coat draped over your head while you peer around at the cheerful number of people - villains - around you. The Liberation Army talked and bustled around you loudly as Dabi remained completely silent from where he sat beside you, a single, protective arm laying on the railing behind you.

He told anyone who asked about you that your quirk is useful - a healing one that pairs great with him for his burns. And while he's lying his ass off completely knowing no one could reverse the damage, he has an excuse for Re-Destro to get you a room right beside his.

You'll be knocking on his door just about every morning, holding a plate with a shy smile as you hand him the fresh food he missed - 'because you weren't at breakfast, Dabi'

He found out you had a habit for drawing when he saw you sketching him onto a fogged window - your finger dragging carefully through the thin layer of frost as you draw his signature scars and soft, puffy hair. All with a smile on your face as you gaze longingly at it. The sight is too much to bear - and he'll leave before you can catch him standing on the other side of the room.

He'd sneak into one of the offices of the building and steal a notebook and various pens for you - leaving them outside your door, in hopes you'll capture the blueness of his eyes and the soft crook of his rare smile amongst the pages.

He'd let you lay with him on nights you couldn't sleep, never once protesting to your soft pleas or questions. You asked him about all sorts of things - and he indulged in you, because what the fuck? Life had been a bitch to him the moment he entered this world. If there was a mistake in the cosmos that led him to his angel, he would take advantage of it and allow himself this one good thing to keep forever.

"Why do you even stick with me anyways, doll? You got the whole world - I bet they'd love you better than I ever could." He whispers, knowing nobody could hold a candle to his love for you. A love that was bigger than life itself.

"Because. You're my hero."

He stills at your words, before kissing your temple.

"I'll be a villain to the rest of the world, but not for you, baby. I'll be your hero - I'll be your everything."

[kaiijo]

THINGS YOU DO THAT HE FINDS HOT — [BLUE LOCK]

characters: isagi yoichi, bachira meguru, kunigami rensuke, nagi seishiro, chigiri hyoma, itoshi rin, barou shouei content: gn! reader, suggestive content notes: hope you enjoy!

⋆｡° isagi yoichi

oh. my. gosh. isagi is absolutely down bad for you wearing his clothes — specifically, his jersey. tbh all the players love when you do but with mr. isagi “egoist” yoichi is one of the most obsessed with it.

whether his clothes are loose, tight, or fit just right, isagi’s face is flushed red and his eyes are glued to you with stars in them. after he see you in his jersey, he’s giving you his sweatshirts and jackets and looking up matching clothes on the internet

⋆｡° bachira meguru

bachira immediately gets butterflies in his stomach whenever you dance. he loves seeing how carefree you are when you do and just the way you twist and move your body.

if you really want to make his heart skip a beat, invite him to dance with you with an outstretched hand and a sweet grin and he’s absolutely putty in your hands. when you dance as close as you can, chest to chest, he’s melting in your arms with an uncharacteristically shy smile and a whole army of butterflies in his stomach

⋆｡° kunigami rensuke

kunigami really, really, really likes it when you openly admire his physique. he’s not trying to be vain but he works hard for his muscles so he loves it when you show your appreciate for that hard work

you can do this in various ways: compliment him, stare at him when he works out, squeeze around his arm and ask if he’s bulked up more since the last time that he saw you with a little, cheeky smile. whatever you do, it has kunigami feeling a little lightheaded

⋆｡° nagi seishiro

this might be cliché but nagi thinks it’s super hot when you get really passionate about things that either you like or that he likes. as someone who is pretty lazy, there’s something about the contrast of you getting fired up that he likes. he’s focuses on how animated you get when you’re telling him about something you love, the way you speak, the way you gesture, nagi just can’t take his eyes of you

like i said, he really likes you being passionate about things he likes. when you get really into a video game you’re playing together, sharp eyes trained in the screen and your fingers mashing buttons on your console, cursing quietly under your breath when something doesn’t go right — it may not seem that nagi is paying attention but he is and he’s enjoying every moment he’s spending with you

⋆｡° chigiri hyoma

chigiri’s face gets really warm whenever you trace your fingers along his face. you’re reverent, enraptured by his beauty and even though chigiri is always told how pretty he is, it’s different when it comes from you because it’s you. he’s squirming and blushing under your gaze

what makes him even more flustered is if you’re cuddling with one another and you ghost your fingertips along his jawline and whisper about just how beautiful he is. there’s something so intimate about it and chigiri feels like he’s locked in some sort of trance with you that neither of you really care to leave

⋆｡° rin itoshi

laughing at his jokes even when they’re deadass not funny is the quickest way to get rin’s heart thumping. because he’s someone who’s usually super serious, it’s kind of rare for him to crack any quips but when he does, it usually falls flat because people think he’s serious (or because it’s blatantly not funny) but you can always figure out when he does and he can count of you to let out a little giggle at the very least

maybe it’s the way your mouth curves into a smile or the way your eyes light up with amusement but rin just thinks you look your best when you’re laughing (especially at his jokes/“jokes”). he presses adoring kisses to every inch of your face when you get a private moment together

⋆｡° barou shouei

barou is an absolute sucker for you getting along with his younger sisters. he’d honestly rather die than admit it but regardless of how old they are (if they’re really much younger or pretty close in age to him), you being an older sibling figure and role model to them really attracts him to you

he may always roll his eyes when his sisters insert themselves into your time together, but he would absolutely kill for them (and for you) so seeing all the people he cares most getting close just makes him feel even more superior for choosing you as his partner. when they finally do leave you alone, he’s definitely pulling you into his arms to show you his appreciation

[ponderingmoonlight]

Kokushibo meeting another moon breather and falling hard

Pairing: Kokushibo x fem!reader

Word Count: 2,1k

Synopsis: You were supposed to be another killed demon slayer on his list, nothing but a girl he stumbled upon in the woods at night. But something about you is different. Something stops him from ending your life.

Warnings: Honestly none, a little bit of violence, a little bit of HEAT, this will get a Part 2 if you guys are interested so feel free to interact with that fic! <3

„Leaving again?“

You tilt your head to the side ever so slightly, your katana already lying heavy in your rough hands.

“I have no choice. The order comes from Ubuyashiki-sama himself”, you reply with low voice.

Out of instinct, your eyes wander to the shining orb above, the most faithful companion of your life. Countless innocent nights, you just sat on the grass and took in its beauty inch by inch. But at times like these, the moon being out also means that demons wander on free foot.

“Lucky bastard”, Sanemi mumbles under his breath.

You wouldn’t consider yourself lucky. Not when you know painfully well that all those demons where once humans with dreams, hopes and love filling their hearts. Not when your whole family drowned you with love and affection only a few years ago.

Until Muzan Kibitsuji decided to turn their heads against you by turning them into demons.

“I’ll be back before training starts.”

“You better live up to that.”

 Without looking back one last time, you begin your journey to the other side of this haunted land. If Ubuyashiki-sama called for a hashira, the matter has to be serious-minded. And while his crow didn’t deliver a lot of information about details apart from the place being a small village in the south, you know all too well what that means.

A strong demon, maybe one of the upper moons, even. And you, a hashira who was chosen to kill it.

Your eyes roam around the peaceful area, take in how beautifully the full moon lights up the trees around you. A truly remarkable scenery you try to enjoy as often as possible, even though working as a pillar keeps your mind and body occupied most of the time.

But you aren’t alone. An unsettling feeling starts spreading inside of your chest, the instinct of being watched out of the darkness becoming more and more urgent in your mind.

“Are you the one who is responsible for the destruction of the village nearby?”, you question into the dusk.

Destruction? Kokushibo can’t help but shake his head ever so slightly. As if he’d waste his time with something this minor.

The real question is, who are you? The way you walk and talk tells him more than urgently that you aren’t one of those average demon slayers, that you have to be someone special. A pillar, probably. He can’t help but take in your graceful sight, the way you almost float over the wet grass, your eyes lit by the moon oh so perfectly while your hands are tightly grabbing your katana in contrast.

You are beautiful.  Enigmatic, powerful, and captivating... truly mesmerizing. In his long-lasting life, Kokushibo stumbled upon countless of women.

But they never caught his attention like you.

“I came here to end your suffering”, you continue calmly, not even your hands shaking by the sensation of meeting a demon.

You must sense it, that he’s far above the average demons you’ve encountered before.  You have to feel his presence by the way you tilt your head towards his direction ever so slightly. And still, you don’t waver. Not even a little bit.

“Even if your skill level proceeds mine by miles.”

His eyes widen for a brief moment.

“Why don’t you show yourself, upper moon?”

It’s an instinct, an act out of trance. Kokushibo follows your word and emerges out of the darkness he found comfort in, his gleaming eyes now meeting yours directly.

The upper moon one.

You don’t allow your heart to skip a beat, force your mind to keep its focus. This must be the head of Muzan Kibutsuji’s army, the mightiest of them all apart from himself. The upper moon Kyojuro lost his life to was number 3. Weaker than the man standing in front of you, less dangerous than the man standing in front of you.

And you? You wouldn’t consider yourself stronger than Kyojuro was.

“I am forced to end your life right here and now”, you declare with a calm demeanor.

“You are too weak to even reach me”, Kokushibo replies automatically.

“I have no other choice but to try.”

He tilts his head to the side, watches like in slow motion how the neutral expression on your face hardens ever so slightly while you lift up your sword.

“Moon breathing, third form: celestial silence.”

You release a wave of soundless crescent blades like you always do, emerge him into confusion and darkness to prepare for your next attack.

“Moon breathing. You use moon breathing?”

You are barely able to escape the grasp of his arm that shouldn’t even be able to reach you by letting yourself fall onto the ground. Not even Sanemi is able to see through that curtain of silence, how was he able to react so fast?

A faint layer of cold sweat starts forming on your forehead, your fingers now grabbing the handle of your sword tighter. What did you expect from the upper moon one?

“Fourth form: Lunar precision.”

You can’t allow your thoughts to wander, need to focus on the way your sword feels inside your hands and the series of rapid, precise slashes that crush against his blade without mercy. Each strike is executed with meticulous accuracy, searing for any weaknesses.

But the man in front of you has none.

All it takes him is one minor slash to disarm you. With his other hand, he grabs your wrist tightly. Is he about to kill you? Will this be your last moment walking on earth? You can’t rip your now glossy eyes away from him, can’t even force yourself to look at the moon one last time.

“Who taught you that breathing technique?”

Your mind starts racing, brows furrowing ever so slightly. What is he talking about? And why are you not dead already?

“What?”, you breathe out.

With a swift motion, he puts his sword back in its sheath and grabs your other arm as well, now holding you so close that you can feel his breath dance across your face.

“Who taught you how to use moon breathing?”, he continues visibly aroused.

“I taught myself.”

Confusion, anger and shock roll over his face like a wave while his hands still keep you in place.

Impossible. This means that you mastered sun breathing as well. You, nothing but an average girl with eyes that make it easy to get lost in them. You with that basic sword that doesn’t show a single hint of your abilities.

Do you know what you’re capable of, that you might be a worthy opponent?

Or a mighty demon.

“You need to come with me.”

“Coming with you?”

Your heart now almost pounds out of your chest, arms instinctively fighting for what is dear life. If you go with him, you’ll die. What is his plan? Does he want to torture you, eat you alive? Your usual so collected mind starts falling apart bit by bit with every passing second.

“Stop attacking me”, he warns you.

You fight against his grasp even harder, desperately try to free you from the prison of his arms. You promised Sanemi that you’ll be back before the next training session starts, you promised Mitsuri to braid her hair in the morning. You made so many promises.

And now you might not be able to live up to a single one of them.

“Enough”, the man in front of you grumbles.

One well-placed hit. Then everything goes black.

Kokushibo’s heavy breath hangs in the air, eyes staring at your unconscious figure lying on the floor. He lifts your body off the ground as gently as possible, allows his eyes to regard your face up-close. You look so peaceful while lying in his arms, your features not showing a single sign of your fight earlier on. Apart from a single tear at the corner of your eye, you look flawless. He wipes it away with his index finger, watches how the moonlight reflects so beautifully in your perfect little teardrop. If he’d be able to caress your cheek one time, feel the softness of your hair only once-

He shakes his head ever so slightly. No, he needs to focus on what’s in front of him, needs to find out what lend you that power. Are you just like him? Are you maybe the only person on this planet who understands his silent suffering?

The second you open your eyes again, everything is still black. What happened? Are you at home? The demon…

Your eyes widen in an instant, dart around the poor-lit area in a haste. Where is the upper moon one?

“It took you quite some time to regain consciousness.”

His cold voice cuts through your bones with ease. There he sits, only a few meters away to your opposite. You swallow hard, scan your body for any injuries.

But you aren’t injured. Not even a single scratch decorates your skin.

“Why did you allow me to stay alive?”

To be honest, he doesn’t know. Muzan Kibitsuji made it more than clear that all demons are forced to kill every single demon slayer who crosses their path. Especially pillars like you. He stares at you without saying a single word.

“Are you going to kill me now?”

It is his responsibility to do so. Not even the fact that you use moon breathing should be enough to change that fate of yours, not when you’re a hashira, a dirty demon slayer. Again, he keeps his mouth shut.

When you open your mouth again, not a single sound escapes your dry lips. The countless questions that linger through your mind make it hard to form a logical thought. What are you supposed to do? Is there any way out of this? You need to fight, need to stay strong until you die.

“What do you know about moon breathing?”

“More than you”, he gives back.

He’s beautiful. Despite the unpromising gleam in his orbs and that number one than reminds you oh so urgently that this man is the highest ranked upper moon, you can’t help but let that thought sink in. There’s no doubt in the fact that he was once a truly handsome man.

The two of you sit opposite of each other, plainly staring in your faces without saying another word. You never felt anything apart from sorrow for those creatures, never allowed yourself to get lost in their features or to ponder about what they might have become. But this man…

“Did you use this breathing technique when you were still human?”

In the blink of an eye, the upper moon one draws his sword. Sparks fly, the air around you suddenly so hot that you almost feel like choking. What is that immense power of his? Are those…moons?  Out of instinct, you grab his arm. For support, to stop him? You don’t know anymore.

“Stop”, you cough out.

“Please…stop.”

He lowers his blade, his free hand now grabbing your back and pulling you towards his chest.

“I was the only user of moon breathing for countless centuries. Until you showed up”, he clarifies distantly.

“Tell me how you conquered sun breathing. Tell me how you taught yourself this technique.”

His face is only inches away from yours, forces your breath to get stuck in your throat all over again.

“It just happened.”

“You will come with me.”

He starts dragging you along with him, the unusual flaming touch of his hand almost driving you insane. Just a few hours ago, you were on a mission to free a small village from the cruel hands of a demon. What about those innocent people? What about those poor souls who might get slaughtered at this very moment? You can’t just follow him like a lost puppy.

“Only under one condition.”

Slowly, the upper moon one turns his face towards you.

“You set conditions?”

“Free the village I was assigned to from those demons or otherwise…”

With a swift motion you draw your sword and press it firmly against your very own neck.

“Or otherwise, I’ll make sure I won’t be able to answer all of your questions.”

You find yourself devoured in his arms and pressed against a cool stone wall before you finished blinking once, now staring straight into his dangerous orbs.

“I don’t negotiate with something like that”, he presses out.

Tags: @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix  @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @beatrexworld

@froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @poketrainer2270 @chaoticwinnercupcake

@lees-chaotic-brain @wordskeeper @polarbvnny @sugu-love @ryva @baku2345

@komelrebi-san @kentocalls @barbuse @sunshine7queen @lavenderdrxp

@yaninnaacu @hopefulbelievertimemachine @laurencrsnt @virtual-202 @blunderland

@strawberry784

[beemochi-art]

SHOCKWAVE AND WHIRL!!

A Dangerous genius from the depths of the nemesis, an unknown danger beneath the depths of their very ship. Whirl, his bodyguard, eyes to the outside and most importantly his consort.

Time to talk about their LORE!

Shockwave awoke, connected to the wall, weak, cold and confused, connected to the wall by cords and wires. So much information was running through his head he had to break free from the wall to catch a break. It took some time The voice’s kept calling him shockwave. It took some time but Shockwave used the database he was connected too to learn the history of the cybertron war, what happened the planet, where he was and most importantly what happened to him. He discovered the decepticons called him shockwave because that’s what they’d call the database ai (similar to Siri.) created by Soundwave. He also figured out no one knew he was in this little room.

It was unknown who Shockwave was before his Empurata ritual happened. He doesn’t remember anything from his past not even his real name. Slowly things here and there would come back to him, memories of his old life, people he cared about but don’t know anymore. With the discovery of cybertrons demise. Shockwave became angry. He want the both decepticons and autobots to die for their war, he knows that their planet may be beyond fixing. He swore a slow revenge for both parties.

But while upgrading and plotting, he started getting some of his emotions, he started getting lonely and wondering if any other Empurata we’re capable of breaking out of their trance.

(Only decepticons have Empurata aka drones in their faction due to have enough resources for them and that they are basically fee labor. Drones are lower class them not really considered alive, so often times they are vehicons or work in dangerous areas. They are lower than servant Class cons)

Shockwave didn’t want to damage any vehicons or cause unnecessary death. So he told himself if he caught one with any hint of life to them he would continue with procedures. Until then he worked on himself and mapped out weaknesses in the decepticon army.

One day he spotted a vehicon looking at itself through windows or lagging behind others. Not entirely paying attention. It wasn’t hard to find him because of the unique markings on its neck. Shockwave stole him away, no one would notice and went though the procedure of waking the vehicon.

The Drone was confused and scared most of the time and barely spoke. Mostly just staying in a corner or looking at their reflection. Shockwave would mostly leave them alone. Eventually tho as the Drones personality began to shine through, they asked questions or make pretty honest remarks, they could offend times be considered rude. Shockwave didn’t care tho, it was nice just to have someone around. Then the Drone personality came back full swing Bold, crazy, honest, crude. Most interesting this mech had no fear. They were also a very skilled and dangerous opponent often pulling insane manic maneuvers when fighting just too win, they were incredibly strong. It was hard for shockwave to keep up. One day the drone remembered his own name, Whirl.

The two work closely together. Whirl pretends to be a regular old vehicon on the surface. While shockwave upgrades and preps their next movie. It’s difficult for Whirl sometimes tho, because he doesn’t take disrespect lightly and he has to keep most of his skills to a minimal level.

[strawberrymochin]

Crown prince!gojo who has met you on his little sneak trip out of the imperial palace. He saw you lone scrubbing on a piece of silk, as slow tears trailed down your chin.

“does washing a single piece of silk cause you such great sadness?” his tone startled you, lacing with a hint of sarcasm.

You take a look on his stunning majestic brocade, and shiny silk robes, his hair tied up with a silver hair piece in which delicate blue crystals sparkled the evening sun. His attire suggested audience, unable to conceal his blood rank.

“i expect nothing from you to understand who hasn't even worked himself for a single day.” you made a snarky comment, frustrated from the overflowing tasks given by your mistress. You cared any less for pleasing or showing any respect for an notable rank.

Crown prince!gojo who had never been spoken so harshly with a taunt in air, had spiked his interests. After your abrupt leave, he got his attendants to search for you. And the next thing you know, is that you are summoned in the imperial palace to serve his highness who has requested you from the household you work in.

You who had never met any royals, and no idea who the mighty crown prince, taking over the kingdom after his father looked like, had your colour drained from your face after a single look at him.

He looked cunning with his azure eyes as his white hair, was now tied up in a knot, white robes with blue brocade and a belt of silk wrapped around his waist, which shone in the reflecting lights from the courtyard where you were summoned in.

“your highness" you bowed, your brow touching the grounds, mentally cursing your tongue to have provoked him the last day. God knows what he might ask you to do. Worse even your life being snatched away.

Crown prince!gojo who tells you to rise your head up, dismissing his attendants, now his smile looking more of mischievous. “you shifted your personality with such measures I'm impressed,” his lips creak a bit, but as of incredulity.

Crown prince!gojo who grinned even more when you unable to keep your composure snap at him. He wants you to be his companion, learning by his side before he assumes his court duties.

Crown prince!gojo who confesses to you the night you beat him in sword fight after almost 2 years spending day and night with you. Falling even more every single day.

Crown prince!gojo who clasps your hand to his chest while kissing you, under the solicitude of moonlight.

Crown prince!gojo who tells you he wanted to kiss you for so long, that his heart burned with agony.

Crown prince!gojo whose eyes darkens everytime he sees you taking with captain!geto from afar during your war practice sessions.

Crown prince!gojo who gifts you a tassal woven by him with tear drops of jades dangling from it, which is enchanted and protects you from all harms.

Crown prince!gojo whose dull eyes avoids yours during the entire crowning ceremony, face looking pale at the moment the emperor announces his betrothal to a princess of another strong kingdom.

It stabbed your heart, smeared it into Shards of glass and if you were tranced by an enchantment, you also joined the crowd praising the holy couple soon to be married.

Your throat felt dry as your heart burnt with rage. That's when finally his eyes meet yours—knowing very well this is the last time you see it.

Crown prince!gojo who cries himself to sleep as you left to join the army, never returning back to the imperial palace, as his companion anymore.

Crown prince!gojo whose heart thunders in his chest as whenever he learns you were about on a mission to fight with dangerous monsters.

Crown prince!gojo who sneaks in your room to heal your injuries with his magic, before any healer appears.

Crown prince!gojo who gets annoyed at the appearance of captain!geto, who came to check up on you.

Gojo's gaze steady upon geto as he entered the room nonchalantly, obvious to the tension in the air. He knows it rages the prince whenever he talks to you. And you know what? your captain loves to feast upon what others can't have. Especially in this case the we are talking about his highness Prince. How could he not lace his finger with you only to see prince gojo's fists rolling into balls as veins popped out on his jaw.

Crown prince!gojo who takes his leave, dismal as he exchanges cold glances with captain!geto.

This is terrible. You thought.

A/n- and it's fun for me. Lol. Shall I continue this with captain!geto?

[downthe-f4ndom-rabbith0le]

Always Been You (Dick Grayson x Reader) - Chapter 6

Always Been You (Dick Grayson x Reader) Reader Insert: she/her pronouns Word Count: 2946 Warnings: death, violence, fighting, bloody wounds, angst, infuriatingly oblivious love interest, slowburn Spoilers: Young Justice Seasons 1-3 plot partially, but it ended in 2022 so catch up.

Y/N Prince - miracle daughter of Wonder Woman and Steve Trevor - and Dick Grayson - first adoptive son of the Batman himself - have been best friends since day one. They went to school together, trained together, kept each other's alter ego secret from everyone else, and they founded the Young Justice alongside their friends together. 

But as time progressed, Y/N and Dick grew up and Y/N found herself wanting more than friendship with Dick. But he never seemed to indicate that he reciprocated her feelings. And when Wally died and Dick abandoned the team, Y/N realised he never would. So she heads to the one place she knows will help her become a stronger warrior so that one day she can take her mother's place: Themyscira.

Two years after his leave, Dick reaches out to his old friends to help him with a mission. But when he finds out Y/N left too, he chases after her in the hopes to bring her back.

However, when the two finally reunite, it isn't as warm as he hopes. Not to mention Themyscira becomes under siege as they go to war against Echidna, the Mother of Monsters in Greek Mythology, and her army of monstrous children.

Will Dick and Y/N be able to put their past behind them and save the Amazonians' homeland? Or will they fall, unable to tell one another their true feelings?

~~~

'...Starting tomorrow, we prepare for Echidna's war,' Queen Hippolyta announced to those in the War Chamber.

After Echidna's kraken attack, the Queen had called for an emergency meeting in the War Chamber to discuss matters. Generals and their lieutenants discussed the right protocols and procedures they would instruct their soldiers to carry out over the coming days. It was well past midnight now, but no one in the chamber looked as if sleep would come easily when they returned to their own chambers.

'For now, head back to bed. Hera knows we are going to need all of our energy to face what lies ahead.' Everyone simply bowed their heads in understanding and left the chamber. Except for Y/N.

She was staring intensely at the small sculptured map of the entire island - as if trying to commit every stair, every mountain, every grain of sand to memory - when a hand on her shoulder pulled her from her trance.

'You too, my dear,' Queen Hippolyta said gently. 'You have endured much tonight. Go. Rest.'

'What? No.' Y/N shook off her grandmother's hand and stood up tall, but she could not help rubbing her tired eyes as she strained to keep them open. 'We should be preparing now, Grandmother. Echidna will certainly not be resting before she tries to destroy all of Themyscira. I will not let her.'

'I know, dear child.' Queen Hippolyta gently cupped Y/N's face and turned her attention away from the map. 'But what good are soldiers if they do not rest? We have three days - there will be plenty of time for sleepless nights then. For now, I am telling you to rest.'

Y/N had to admit she was exhausted. She had been training all these months, but hadn't been in a real fight with real danger since she'd left the team. Her body was already starting to ache, and so she conceded. 'Is that an order from her Royal Highness?'

'It is an order from your grandmother,' the queen replied with a soft smile. She brought Y/N's forehead to her lips briefly before she finally let go. 'Rest. Our work begins tomorrow.'

Y/N nodded then headed for the War Chamber doors. Now that she'd acknowledged it, her exhaustion was now weighing on her eyes more heavily, and the thought of falling into her crisp linen bed sounded heavenly.

As soon as she opened the door to leave, however, she was met with, 'So what did you talk about?'

Dick Grayson didn't look an ounce tired as he pushed off from his place on the wall and sauntered up to her. Damn, had he waited there for three hours? It didn't matter. All that mattered was getting to her bed and he certainly wasn't going to stop her now.

'Nothing you need to worry yourself about,' Y/N deflected as she made her way down the corridor. She was hoping her stern tone would hint that she was in no mood to talk, but Dick Grayson was not one to read such obvious signs.

'What's that supposed to mean?' he asked, following swiftly after her. 'You woke up every general and their lieutenant to discuss what then? A new uniform?'

'If you want to make jokes about my people's future existence, then we definitely don't have anything to talk about,' Y/N bit back, increasing her pace as she turned around a corner.

'Then what did you guys talk about in there?' Dick insisted. Y/N had to give it to him, he was persistent. 'Look, I want to help. But how can I if you won't talk to me?'

'Just because you caught me tonight, does not mean I am obliged to answer your every question.'

'Catching you? I saved your life! Speaking of which, I think a "thank you" is at least the minimum you can say to me right now. Which, by the way, you're welcome for. But if you won't say it, then tell me why I can't possibly help you with this.'

'Because this doesn't concern you,' Y/N replied, reaching the spiral staircase that led up to floor of her chambers. She started her ascent as she continued. 'This isn't your war to fight. You weren't even meant to be here.'

'So what do I do then?' Dick asked, his tone offended as he still followed her up the stairs. 'Just jump on a sailing ship tomorrow and head back to Blüdhaven like none of this ever happened?'

'Oh, so that's where you've settled down. How noble of you.'

'I'm being serious, Y/N.' Dick grabbed Y/N's wrist with a grip tight enough to halt her charge, but loose enough to let her know she could escape any time. She had just reached the next floor when he did, leaving him two steps below her eyesight.

'So am I,' she hissed back, but her anger was superficial. Her bed was just down the corridor and Richard bloody Grayson was doing everything in his power to stop her from reaching it.

She tugged her wrist out of his grip and looked down at him with a glare so severe she hoped he would catch fire. 'Go home. To your life of freedom and abandonment, to the girl who undoubtedly is waiting for you in your disgusting apartment, to the team, I don't care! Just go.'

The pair stood looking at each for the longest time. The window beside the staircase entrance allowed the light of the full moon to shine onto Dick's flawless, sharp face. The pale light cast shadows under his eyes, hollowed his cheekbones. And for the first time since coming to the island, the cocky glint in his eyes wasn't there.

It was the most serious Y/N had ever seen him, even when they were both on the same team together doing the most craziest and dangerous missions that either of them could've died on.

He was telling her the truth, and that one fact made her soften her glare.

'Why do you hate me so much?' he asked, his voice cracking slightly as if he were on the verge of tears.

This took Y/N aback.

Hate. She'd never used the word in association with Dick. Even when he left, even when he never came back, even when he never spared her another thought or word. She wanted to slap him, tell him he was stupid because how could she ever hate him after she'd spent so much time feeling the very opposite for him?

Y/N didn't hate Dick Grayson, but she couldn't forgive him for what he'd done either.

'You left me,' she finally said, voice low so as not to release all her emotions at once. 'You left all of us behind as if we were nothing. As if we weren't family. You left when we - when I needed you the most. What? Did you expect me to just be waiting for you when you decided to come back? Were you ever going to come back, Dick? Well?'

He had no reply, only a face expressing a full range of emotions. Shock, sadness, guilt, shame.

The last one gave Y/N her answer.

It wasn't until Dick reached for her cheek that Y/N realised she was crying. She was too shocked to bat away his hand as he wiped her cheek gently, smoothing away her tears. Despite the cold night, his hand was warm, and in her moment of weakness, Y/N allowed her eyes to close for just a moment and lean into his touch.

Once or twice she'd dreamed of a moment like this, where Dick would hold her as if she were the most precious thing in the world. But that's all it was, a dream.

Remembering herself, Y/N pulled away from Dick's hand and hastily wiped her tears. His hand hung in the air for a moment longer before letting it fall to his side in defeat.

'I should go rest,' Y/N said after an eternity of silence. 'We start preparations and training at dawn. I will make sure someone sets you on your way early tomorrow. It will be as if you never had come to Themyscira.'

'But I will remember,' Dick said gently. 'I will know what is happening.'

Y/N nodded in agreement. 'But it is not your war to fight.'

Dick stared at her, the blues in his eyes swirling like tumultuous waves as if battling with himself. Eventually he nodded and took a step down.

'We both leave at dawn, then?' he asked.

'So it would seem,' Y/N answered.

'And I will never see you again?'

Y/N hadn't contemplated this, but now that it was out there, there indeed was a high chance that they would never see each other again. Not only him, but the rest of the team, her mother.

Y/N swallowed the lump in her throat and said, 'It is a sacrifice every warrior offers up before every battle.'

It wasn't a straight answer, but it was enough for Dick it seemed as he said, 'Then I wish you the best of luck, Princess.'

Y/N didn't like how distant he sounded when he used her title. It wasn't him, it wasn't her. All of it was wrong, but had it not been herself that insisted he call her by such? To put distance between them? To communicate her anger with him, and make it clear that she wanted nothing to do with him ever again?

She'd dug her own grave, and so now she must lay in it.

'You too, Nightwing,' she managed to get out, and then Dick was descending, leaving Y/N alone with her jumbled thoughts and emotions on the stairs. She'd been exhausted before, but now she was wide awake.

Y/n stayed at the top of the stairs well after Dick's footsteps stopped echoing, unable to move over the threshold of the past into the future. She'd just unofficially said goodbye to her best friend and the love of her life. So much was left unsaid - maybe for the best, or possibly it would be her biggest regrets if she didn't make it through this war.

Y/N finally managed to pull herself away from the staircase at that thought. I must rest now, she told herself as she finally made it to her chambers. Tomorrow, I have a war to try and win.

~~~

T minus three days until Echidna's War

Y/N doesn't remember when she fell asleep, but she does remember taking a long time to do so after her conversation with Dick. All that had been said - all that hadn't been said - had left her tossing and turning for a long time after she slipped into her linen bed.

However, she was very much awake the moment she felt warm sun rays bathe her skin.

Her eyes flew open as realisation shocked her into action. I'm late! Y/N looked out the window briefly and saw the sun high in the sky; it was well and truly past dawn.

Faster than she'd ever done before, Y/N dressed in her warrior uniform, grabbed her sword that she always had on hand in case of an emergency, and sprinted through the palace and down to the training grounds.

The other women were never going to let her live this down if they were to survive Echidna's war, but they were not going to survive by sleeping in. It only appeared to be early morning, but the warriors would've been working for a solid few hours by now. Precious hours that Y/N had wasted sleeping in, instead of training or making blockades or literally doing anything more helpful.

By the time she reached the training grounds, she was the most out of breath she'd ever been in her life. Y/N quickly spotted Calliope supervising a group of young warriors as they practised using monster nets against some wooden dummies.

'Well look who finally decided to wake from their beauty sleep,' Calliope said with a smirk as Y/N approached her.

'I slept pretty bad last night,' Y/N explained. 'And no one came to wake me up. Where is the group I'm meant to be taking?'

Still smirking, Calliope pointed to a large crowd seemingly gathered around one person. Whoever it was, they had to be interesting, as women and young girls were enamoured with whoever was talking.

'Who is that?' Y/N asked, unable to see the instructor through the thick crowd.

'The reason you slept bad last night,' Calliope answered smoothly, and Y/N felt her cheeks heat up in embarrassment and shock.

Not wanting to be teased any further, Y/N staunched over to the crowd and forced the women to part so she could reach the front of the crowd. And there in the centre on the ground, pointing at seemingly random points on a map of Themyscira, was Dick Grayson.

'...Now we don't know specifically what Echidna is going to throw at us,' Dick said to the group, 'but my guess is she is going to send big and small creatures alike. With the small creatures, I suggest setting up traps here, here, and here where the passages are narrow and there is only one way out. We'll lure them into the passageway and then take them out from above.'

'What if they can fly?' one soldier asked.

'Then we lure them to places like the caverns on the east side of the island. Or we make nets to secure the creature's exits out over the passages that have no roofs. Let's go scout those areas today and start setting up what we need weapons and equipment wise there. Any questions?'

'I do,' Y/N found herself saying, finally drawing everyone's - including Dick's - attention to her arrival. 'What do you think you're doing?'

Dick stood up and made to step towards her. 'Y/N, I-'

'Give us a minute,' Y/N directed at the crowd, and they all quickly dispersed at her stern tone. When everyone had either started their own conversations or started sparring to kill the time, Y/N finally addressed Dick.

'What in the name of Hera do you think you're doing ordering my soldiers around?' she seethed, though she was more angry at herself still than him. 'I thought I told you to go home. You're meant to be on a ship sailing back to Blüdhaven by now.'

'I was,' Dick agreed, and that seriousness from last night returned to his stupidly beautiful face once more. It made him look older, wiser. He still looked good, much to Y/N's chagrin. 'But what you said last night got me thinking that... that maybe I need to stay.'

'What?' Y/N couldn't believe what she was hearing. Was he mad? 'Dick, this isn't some silly little mission to complete. We are preparing for war.'

'I know that,' he insisted. 'But... all I've done since Wally's death is run away. It's true; I left the team, I abandoned you - all because I was too scared to try and be brave. Brave... like you.'

Y/N was too shocked to respond, so Dick continued.

'You may hate me, Y/N,' he said, and the look in his eyes surprisingly pained her, 'but I want to stay, I want to help.'

'If you're doing this to make yourself feel better, then you can just leave now-'

'I'm not, Y/N,' Dick interrupted her, now looking into her eyes with such sincerity she knew he was telling the truth. 'I'm doing this because it is the right thing to do. I also just can't accept that I will never see you again. You're too important to me, to the world, to leave behind.'

Y/N's breath hitched as Dick took a step closer to her, never once breaking eye contact. 'I won't abandon you. Never again.'

Those words alone almost broke her facade of cool and uncaring. He meant it. He truly meant it. If he had not just said the words, she would've seen it in his eyes for it was there - the same sentiment.

He would not leave her. Regardless of Themyscira's fate, he would not leave her.

Her Dick Grayson was back.

She regathered her composure by taking a small step away from him. He might be back, but Dick would have to prove himself still if he wanted her back in any capacity.

'Just because I was late, that doesn't mean you take over my training,' she muttered grumpily.

Dick chuckled. 'I didn't steal them. I spoke with Queen Hippolyta herself. She thought it would be a wonderful idea if I stayed to help.'

Y/N sighed in defeat. 'Of course she did,' she muttered. She made a mental note to have a word with her grandmother later about this.

For now, she - and now Dick, it seemed - had a training to conduct.

She spun around to the slightly dispersed crowd of warriors and called out, 'All right. Everyone, grab what you need for the scout today. Half of you will go with Nightwing here to the East Caverns and map out our traps there. The rest of you will come with me to the Northern Passages between the mountains. We leave in ten minutes.'

'Yes, Princess!'

'Well, then, Nightwing,' Y/N said as the group dispersed again to gather their equipment, 'are you ready to go win a war?'

Dick flashed her his signature smile, though his eyes had a renewed sparkle and Y/N wondered if it possibly was because of her.

'Always, Princess.'

'Don't call me that.'

'Oh, but I insist, Princess.'

'One more remark and I'll order the warriors to set you up as bait for the monsters.'

'Whatever you say... Princess.'

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

Tag List:

@valiantbouquetcloud | @epicy0n | @resistanythingbuttemptation | @lunaizhere | @nameunknownsthings | @tqrgvryen | @pariahsparadise | @edgycat | @b4tm4nn | @cynwing | @lilylovelyxo | @herondale-lightworm | @animeflower26 | @tiny-marie | @jedigrayson

[marthawrites]

Bloodlust

Aemond Targaryen x wife reader

Word count: 2.6k+

About: Aemond, unable to leave you behind in King's Landing on his way to Rook's Rest, returns to you after a successful scouting mission.

Includes: Contains future Fire and Blood spoilers (prelude to battle at rook's rest and a couple of the events leading up to it - mentioned, but not heavily described), and SMUT. Featuring murder (no descriptions of it), blood, Aemond's slightly (?) unhinged, blood eating (this is a fantasy in a work of fiction - please do not do this irl), reader is hot for Aemond's gloves, blowjob, rough Aemond, minor praise, unprotected vaginal sex, brief degradation, creampie, and reader and Aemond say 'i love you' at the end. Whew! Apologies if I missed anything!

Note: Hello lovely reader! This is pure filth. Sorry for the grainy header photo. This specific gif is still driving me insane and was the whole inspiration for this fic! As always, reader is non-descript and I hope you enjoy it! ♥

With Lucerys’ death, the war of ravens came to an end, and the war of fire and blood began.

Prince Aemond Targaryen, your lord husband, barely allowed you from his side much less from his sight. 

Kinslayer everyone called him. In fear, in awe, as a curse. 

After the murder of the King’s princeling son, Jaehaerys Targaryen, King Aegon II would no longer fight this war with quills and ink. He meant to win it with swords and blood. An eye for an eye. A son for a son. King Aegon dehanded his grandsire, Otto Hightower, as Hand of the King and gave the pin to Crison Cole instead. Criston was ravenous for it and immediately began planning an attack against the Blacks.

Duskendale would likely stand little chance against the Greens who were three-thousand men strong. If by some miracle they were able to defend their city, Aemond upon Vhagar and Aegon upon Sunfyre would overwhelm them from above.

Despite the odds being in your husband’s favor, anxiety still gnawed at you from the inside. The hour was late and sleep evaded you at every chance inside your martial tent. War was hardly the place for a woman, but Aemond refused to let you stay behind at the Red Keep while he marched to battle. He trusted your safety to no one except for himself. He deemed there wasn’t a safer place in all of Westeros than with him. You believed him.

You weren’t the only woman traveling with their army. There were other lady wives in similar positions to your own, a few cooks as well, and medics. Judging by some things you’d heard along the way, you weren’t too sure if there wasn’t a gaggle of whores somewhere too. 

The company of other women made you feel significantly better–whether they were whores or healers alike.

No one was allowed in yours and Aemond’s tent, however, and everyone knew that. Regardless if you and Aemond were inside or not, a pair of guards stood watch outside at all times. Tonight, a third armored man joined.

Criston, Aemond, and a small group of soldiers scouted ahead to gather what information they could on Duskendale’s defense. Hours had passed since they left. Ideas, scenarios, and other horrible images filled your brain on what might be happening. The entire scouting party was extremely skilled; the rational part of your brain knew they’d be able to handle anything that crossed their path. Yet… what if Duskendale housed monsters like the Targaryens housed dragons?

There wasn’t any room for a fire inside the tent. Nor was it safe. An oil lamp sat atop a makeshift desk and a few scattered candles lit the darkest corners of the space. Laying on your side, you watched all of the little flames and prayed for your husband’s safe return. 

Perhaps you dozed off, or went into a sort of prayer-induced trance, or simply lost track of time, but a clattering commotion outside seized your attention. Fight, flight, freeze: the instincts of any animal. Leaning up you grabbed a dagger from the makeshift nightstand. You held it in front of you, ready to defend yourself if need be. Fight. You would go down fighting. 

Aemond’s soft voice whooshed inside on a rush of cold night air. “Ābrazȳrys.” wife

“My love!” You said with an exhalation. You laid the dagger back down and stood, stepping to him with hurried strides. “Blessed Seven you returned! I’ve been so worried.”

He walked towards you as you came to him, long steps slow and sure. If he had taken note of the dagger in your hand he made no mention of it. His silence was almost as unnerving as the glint of his dilated eye in the low light.

You meant to throw your arms around his neck and squeeze him against you so you knew him to be real and true, right here and now, rather than a ghost summoned by your worst nightmare. But, something stopped you. You stared up at him, doe-eyed.

The blood splattered across his alabaster face spoke more words than he could vocalize. The smell of him–metallic and heavy–sent your own blood rushing. Even his hair was matted by thick streaks of dark blood. “What happened?”

A serpentine grin slid across his chiseled face and his seeing eye lit with deranged lust. His gloved hands gripped around your forearms, squeezing. “They’re dead.”

“W-who?”

“Duskendale scouts. We found them, questioned them, and killed them,” he answered with  soft-spoken intensity, gripping your arms tighter. “Cole’s speaking with Aegon now. We attack tomorrow. Duskendale will fall, and Rook’s Rest after. We will cripple my half-sister and uncle’s strategy before they gain it.”

Your pulse hammered against your chest. Behind your ears. You weren’t sure if Aemond realized how harshly he held your arms. It hurt. “Th-that’s wonderful news,” you stammered, looking up at him with a mixture of awe and creeping fright. “Are you hurt?”

He shook his head and let go of your arms. Then, he held your face as he crashed his mouth down to yours, kissing you with victory that smelled, and tasted, of copper. “My brother will have his throne,” he rasped against your mouth. “My whore of a sister and her bastard horde will never claim what is Aegon’s by right.”

You whimpered against his mouth, against his words, melting into him as he wrapped his arms around your waist and hip. Lifting your hands to grip onto the front of his dark green doublet, your breath caught in your throat. Blood stained the white of your chemise where he had squeezed your forearms. It looked nearly black in the tent’s candlelight. Leaning back half a step, you looked down your body and saw the front of you stained as well. Not only was his face and hair speckled with blood, but his new military garb was covered in it. “Aemond…!”

“Shh, my sweet wife,” he said against your neck, nipping the sensitive flesh.

Confusion, elation, and lust roared through your body, all of them trying to outdo each other. None of the emotions won. They only succeeded in tightening the muscles of your belly and making your entire nervous system quiver. Why were you like this? Why did your prince husband covered in other people’s blood make you yearn with dark desire? Goosebumps rose on your skin as Aemond nipped, kissed, and sucked all along your neck and shoulder. On instinct, you began to work open the buttons on his overcoat; you’d only seen him in this garb a few times, and your fingers fumbled with inexperience over them.

“I’d do it all again,” he said by your ear. “I will do it again. All across the Seven Kingdoms.”

You understood his meaning. You heard what he left unsaid. Pulling back, you peered up into his seeing eye. A hundred emotions lay bare for you to see: rage, satisfaction, confidence, hunger. “Who are you doing it for?” You asked softly.

“For my brother. For my hatred of my half-sister. For you.”

Aemond’s leather glove was warm when you grabbed his hand–the blood on it slightly sticky to your bare touch–and you nuzzled your face into it. “My sweet, dark prince,” you cooed, kissing his palm. His fingers. Languid. Dizzy on the intoxicating aura radiating off him. You bit the tip of one finger, sly; blood that certainly wasn’t your husbands smeared your mouth.

Witnessing your reverence had Aemond groaning in low inaudible High Valyrian. His soft raspy voice praised you in words you didn’t know. With his free hand he pulled you against him, his hard cock pressing firmly against the soft span of your belly.

You moaned behind his hand. “You will win this war for your brother,” you said adoringly. “Not Crison, not Rosby, or Stokeworth, or anyone else. You and Vhagar.” The feeling of him against your belly had embers searing your senses. Without allowing yourself to think twice about it, you licked one of his gloved fingers. The leather was smooth beneath your tongue, and your tastebuds exploded with the coppery taste of some man’s blood.

Aemond fucking groaned. 

You did it again.

Tension sparked down your spine like lightning and that delicate space between your thighs clenched around nothing. Despite the barriers of clothing between you two you swore you felt him throb. “You are the only weapon Aegon needs.”

He watched in fascination as you shamelessly licked the bloodshed from his glove. He nearly spent in his pants as you took his thumb into your mouth, sucking. “My filthy wife,” he hissed, pulling you further into him. He kissed you again and this time he tasted blood. He licked into your mouth, seeking it deeper. 

Each little moan his passion coaxed from you, he swallowed whole. Once again you began fumbling with the front of his attire, working the buttons open until you were able to push it off his shoulders. Beneath he wore a simple linen shirt, and you helped tug that off, too. With one final nip to his bottom lip you began to sink down to your knees before him.

Aemond watched you hungerly. 

You could unbuckle his belt behind your back by now–it stood no chance as you deftly slid it open. The front of his pants didn’t fight you as his tunic did. You pulled them down enough to free his cock, and you wasted no time in pressing deliberate, hot, open-mouthed kisses along it. You didn’t care that he was unwashed. If anything, the scent of leather, sweat, and battle on him made your desire boil over. Saliva instinctively collected in your mouth, and your eager kisses soon had your tongue sliding along him. By the time you wrapped your soft, lovely mouth around him it was lewd, and wet, and slow. You looked up at him, watching him unravel as you made a sensuous show of swallowing as much of him as you could.

Aemond’s eye hooded as he watched you. He would never fucking tire of watching you take him whole–your mouth or your cunt. Blood still streaked your exquisite features. It made the whole thing obscene. Blood from men he killed to protect his brother. To keep the throne for him. To protect you. “Fucking hells–,” he hissed. “There… yeah, oh yeah, hold my cock in that little throat of yours.”

Tears brimmed your eyes as you held, drool already threatening to dribble down the swell of your lip onto your chin. You knew your husband liked it slow and messy like this. You knew he’d have the muscles of your throat flex around him until your head became dizzy from lack of air. You loved it–and he knew that. You held onto his thighs for support, cunt soaked and throbbing between your legs.

He pulled back slightly, before pushing forward, giving your slobbering mouth deep shallow thrusts. “I love how you sound gagging,” he praised, threading his gloved hand into your hair.

You nodded, tears still threatening to leave your eyes, moaning deep in your throat to his lecherous praise.

With a handful of your hair your prince husband bobbed your head along his cock for his pleasure, fucking into your mouth with perfect timing. He tipped his head back. He could never get enough of this.

His strokes were getting longer and quicker, now, a sure sign that he was getting close to finishing. You held on all the while, savoring the rough treatment as much, or perhaps more, than he was.

Finally, he stopped. Looking down at you again he said, out of breath, “I want to fill your cunny tonight, not your mouth.” Then, he clicked his tongue and said, “up.” He helped you stand, and before he could stop himself he was kissing you again, wild and voracious, licking away any trace of blood he had left on your face from earlier. He walked you backwards to the bed all the while and only stopped when the backs of your legs bumped into the cot. Smirking, he helped you out of your shift. He pushed you back onto it before finally stepping out of his pants and boots. 

Below him, you didn’t even care that his Targaryen hair was clumped with dried bits of blood. No, all you cared about was the weight of his cock as he settled it against you. Hot, heavy, smooth. He was perfect. All of him was perfect.

He squeezed your breasts in his hands–he was still wearing those fucking gloves! Of course he took everything off except for those!–rumbling his appreciation at the softness of them. His cock lined up with you effortlessly. With a push of his hips, he sunk into you. 

The stretch of him, the fullness of him, the sensation of being as close to him as you ever could be, had your eyes rolling closed and mouth parting open. In that same effortless manner, your legs wrapped around his trim waist. You were so wet that your body immediately yielded to him. You bit back a moan, not wanting to draw attention from anyone who might be in earshot of your tent.

Above you, Aemond smiled a dark smile. Shadows danced across his features and made the angular lines of his face sharper. “How does it feel to be right where you belong? Under me, full of me, wet as a maiden and hungry as a whore?”

Your legs flexed around him tighter. Heat bloomed beneath your face. “S-so fucking good..!”

He could see you holding back your sounds of pleasure. “Let them hear you,” he said, thrusting into you harder. Deeper. “Open that pretty mouth and let them hear.” Fingers pinched your nipples as he plunged into you again and again, filling you to your body’s end.

Even if he wanted you to stay quiet there was no way you could. Your sounds of pleasure spilled from your mouth as he nearly fucked you through the cot. It was as divine as it was harsh. Rough as it was loving. You weren't going to last long. Aemond wouldn’t either. “God–! Aemond..!” His name left your mouth in a wanton gasp, back arching.

With your mouth hanging open, he pushed two fingers inside to muffle some of those beautiful noises. “My pretty wife overwhelmed with bloodlust,” he crooned, tilting his head as he watched your fucked-out expressions.  “Come with me,” he rasped, cock swelling impossibly harder. “Come with me.”

You did. The tension in your belly snapped, and any restraint you were holding vanished. Your thighs quivered around him. The emotion and sensation that overcame you was intense and all consuming. Aemond, Aemond, Aemond. You’d give him a babe tonight. You knew you would.

He throbbed inside your flexing and relaxing walls, his seed filling you past the brim of your cunt. It dribbled out of you while his thrusts slowed. His breath came heavy and labored, face finally softening in the orange glow of the tent. “Vok. perfect You are so perfect,” he whispered, pressing his forehead to yours as you both came down from the heights of shared orgasm.

Your legs loosened around him until they lay open, allowing him to slip out from the cradle of your body. “Duskendale will fall tomorrow,” you said to him, kissing him gently. “You will be the victor.”

He laid beside you, then, and pulled you against him so you were laying on your sides face to face. “Anyone who dare face me will fall. The entire realm will fall before me,” he answered with the softest utmost confidence.

Nodding, you smiled and kissed him again. “The world is yours, my prince. With fire and blood.”

“With fire and blood,” he proclaimed, hooking your leg over his waist. Then, he whispered, “I love you.”

And you said it back, meaning it wholly.

-

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed, please consider a follow, and/or reblog, and/or letting me know as it all makes me vvvery happy! ♥

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[thyme-in-a-bubble]

august

a summer in dunbrook, part three

a/n: and to close it all off, let them have a horny camping trip. it's what they deserve.

summary: once you’d reached your spot, set up the tent and the stars were all twinkling in the sky, you and Frank savoured the mild summer evening sitting by the campfire where your fluffy ball of fur had also found a comfortable corner. 

warnings: lumberjack!frank castle x reader, sequel to lilac, smut, lumberjack AU, camping, roasting marshmallows, kissing, size kink, dirty talk, oral, manhandling, hair pulling, impact play, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (because this is just porn. no one is getting pregnant, I’m just craving the intimacy. let them be hoes and live out the fantasy)

word count: 3121

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“All I’m saying is that maybe we wait just one more day before we go home,” Frank said as he slammed the car door shut behind him. 

Readjusting your grip on Enzo’s leash, you blinked up at Frank as he tugged on the big backpack stuffed with supplies. 

“One more day?” you cocked a brow, “you just feel like camping one day more than we planned? Making the trip just that little bit longer so that you–, oh yeah, so that you miss the summer barbeque that you’ve been acting like a toddler about.” 

“I haven’t been–,” he scoffed, though swiftly dropped it with a heavy huff, “look, is it really that bad that I’d rather spend my time with you and Enzo than sit through hours of small talk?” he pleaded as you began to tread away from the parked vehicle, through the wilderness you’d arrived at. 

“No, but I don’t wanna miss it,” you said. Letting out a sigh, you took a step closer to him and caught his wide palm, “look, you don’t have to come along if it’s really that terrible,” your fingers offered his a squeeze to underline your statement, “I love you, I’m not gonna force you.”

Glancing over at you, he caught your eye and offered you the faintest of smiles, “thank you.”

“But,” you stretched out the vowel as if you were blowing a piece of bubble gum, “I’m just saying that you might regret it, you might miss some really fun shenanigans.” 

“Yeah,” he huffed in response, “I bet.”

“Hey, I know he didn’t last year, but I’m crossing my fingers that this year, Otto gets super drunk on Donna’s punch again and starts thinking he’s a drag queen. I know he’s the sheriff, but he can really get put on a good show when the mood strikes and he thinks he’s twenty again.” 

Once you’d reached your spot, set up the tent and the stars were all twinkling in the sky, you and Frank savoured the mild summer evening sitting by the campfire where your fluffy ball of fur had also found a comfortable corner. 

“Oh,” you then suddenly stirred from your trance-like state, ripping your stare away from the flames, “I almost forgot!”

Scrambling off the stout log you’d used to sit on, you ripped open the flap of the tent directly behind you and crawled inside. 

Glancing over his shoulder, half with an amused grin and half checking out your ass, Frank watched as you tore open the backpack and fished out an item. 

Hiding it behind your spine, you didn’t reveal it before you’d returned to your seat. 

“Tada!” you presented your contribution to the camping trip. 

“Marshmallows,” Frank couldn’t help but let out a chuckle. 

“You have to! You simply have to,” you declared as you ripped the plastic open. 

As you let yourself munch on one straight out of the bag, you watched as Frank picked up a few suitable twigs from the forest floor below, fished a swiss army knife out of his pocket and prepped them into the perfect utensils for the job.

The art of roasting marshmallows was something you’d perfected as a child. Getting them just right so that their outer shell got completely caramelised and golden brown, while the entire innards were rendered a sweet gooey mess. 

That fine skill was sadly not something Frank possessed, or perhaps cared about as deeply as you did. It nearly shocked you to horrors to watch him burn the little candy till it looked like a lump of coal, only to eat it without a care in the world as if it hadn’t been utterly ruined. 

So in order to prove to him just how wrong he was in his indifference, just how good they could be when done just right, you roasted him one to the utmost perfection.

“Alright,” you uttered when you retracted the stick from the flames. Carefully pulling it off the widdled twig, you held it out for him, though noted just before he enclosed his mouth around it, “careful, it’s hot.” 

As you studied his expression for traces of your victory, you popped your sticky fingers in your mouth, licking them clean one by one. 

Frank however also seemed to gaze back at you, though the heated stare that traced your innocent digits flew completely over your head as that wasn’t what you so intently were searching for. 

“So?” you impatiently poked in between cleaning the sugar off of your skin, “how is it?”

Swallowing the treat, he then hummed, “yeah, it’s good,” his eyes still glued to you. 

“Just good?” you cocked your head, “not amazing, incredible, your life will never be the same?” you listed off and then finally noticed just how intense his stare was, “what?” your voice seemed to shrink as you dropped the jest, “do I have some on my face?”

“No…” he shook his head lightly as one of your palms shot up to wipe the corner of your mouth. 

“Then what is it? Why are you staring at me like that?”

“I just love you, is all,” he breathed, “you’re very cute,” his soft smirk grew wider as he then added, “especially when you don’t realise the dirty things you do.”

A giggle then erupted from your lungs, “what did I do?” and continued to bubble out of you even as he began to lean in, “what?” 

But instead of filling you in, he simply pressed his lips to yours. 

It was soft at first, peppering you with pecks as your laughter slowly faded away. But then when your chuckling had come to a close and no longer vibrated against his lips, he let go of his gentleness and gave in to the desire that was about to burst. 

Slipping his tongue past your lips, a low groan flowed from him and melted against yours as they danced against one another. His broad palm only stayed on your cheek a moment longer before it soared down your frame, his other hand too joining in the exploration of your curves. 

You nearly couldn’t keep track of his touch as it wandered wildly, grabbing at every place that made you all tingly inside. Though, at one point when you thought you might fall off your makeshift seat, you actually did, or rather, Frank’s grasp slid down to your bottom and scooped you closer, so close in fact that you now found yourself half kneeling on the forest floor, between his thick thighs where he remained seated, and arching up to keep your lips still attached.

As one of his hands reconnected with your heated cheek, he withdrew ever so slightly as a groan left his throat, “god, I wanna fuck you…”

The gravel in his tone shot straight down between your legs and made you whimper, “please.”

After he seized your lips once more, the hand on the side of your face slid further up and disappeared into your hair. When his fist soon enclosed around the roots of your locks at the nape of your neck, a purr poured out of you, one he briefly paused the kiss to relish hearing. 

His other palm still grazed over your clothing, petting you so passionately that you expected on bated breath for him to rip your attire off. 

But he didn’t. 

Instead, right when he pinched your nipple through your shirt, his fingers didn’t move to pop open the row of buttons. 

Pulling back from the heated kiss, he maintained your face so close to his that his prominent nose pressed against your cheek. 

“Take this off,” he commanded in a gravelly tone, faintly gesturing to your shirt before his hand floated up to join his other if your hair. 

As you scrambled to do so, hazy with lust, you tried to tilt your chin to capture his lips, but the grip he had on you caused each of your attempts to fail as he denied you another taste. 

Once your button-up tumbled to the ground, he rose to his feet, lifting you with him, before one of his hands briefly let go to gesture to the shorts that hung from your hips, “these as well.”  

It wasn’t till they too fell to the dirt that Frank finally kissed you again, or to be more accurate, nearly devoured you. 

Your fingers tangled in his flannel for purchase as he scooped your body even closer to his. When you felt the palpable tent in his pants press up against your stomach, your right hand had a mind of its own and slid down to graze and teasingly rub him through his clothing. 

“Fuck…” he grunted, swiftly leaning into your touch. 

When his feet began to move, yours blindly began to shuffle as well. Each time you encountered even a tiny twig or something to make you slightly lose your balance, your grip tightened in his shirt and his hold on you swiftly shifted and clutched your waist, just so that in case you actually did stumble, he would be ready to sweep you off your feet. 

The flap to the tent was already open from when you grabbed the marshmallows, so nothing was there to hinder you when Frank pushed you inside. 

As both of you sank down to your knees on the sprawled-out sleeping bags, you began to tear at his clothes, an action that he didn’t protest in the slightest, only brought a hand back up to tangle itself in your locks. With the tent still open to the great outdoors, the crackling light from the campfire streamed in and illuminated both your forms. The warm glow licked across Frank’s skin as you revealed more and more of it. 

When you began to tuck at the last remaining item covering him up, you barely managed to hook a finger in his boxers before Frank’s body moved, laying down and bringing you with him. Chest pressed down against his, he manoeuvred your legs to be at either side of his hips. 

Capturing his lips in a kiss, you both sucked in a slow breath through your noses. As his palms slid up from the curve of your ass and over your waist, the pent-up tempo that had formed outside seemed to relax, your sloppy makeout morphing into soft and yearning pecks. 

His scruff tickled your palms as you clutched his jaw and withdrew just enough for you to catch your breath. Your nose nuzzled gently against his as you then begged in a foggy whisper, “can I please suck your cock?” 

Huffing out a smile, he found your eyes, “you wanna suck my cock?”

“Please.”

“Oh yeah? Well then go right ahead since you want it so badly.”

Mirroring his grin, you leaned in to press your lips to his one last time, “thank you,” before you slowly began to crawl further down. 

Holding his gaze as he propped himself up onto his elbows, you dipped down to plant a few kisses across his stomach before your nose nuzzled against the waistband of his underwear. When you were slotted between his parted legs, resting on your belly with your feet kicked up, his thumbs dipped into his boxers and pulled them off before you had the chance. 

His length sprung free of its binds, throbbing under your gaze and glistening with precum. Your eyes flickered up to meet his as you wrapped your fingers around his girth and a sharp intake of air filled Frank’s lungs. 

You only really had to tilt your head and stick out your tongue in order for it to glide across the bulbous head, as you already were at eye level. Glancing up to catch his gaze, you teasingly tapped the tip of him against your tongue, the corners of your mouth tipping upwards at his reaction. Dipping your head, you planted sloppy pecks down the side of him and when you came back up, you let your saliva dribble down his hardness, your fist swiftly swooping up to lavish its strokes.

When your lips finally enclosed around his girth, a deep rumble vibrated in his burly chest as he watched your slow movements intently, “fuck, I love you…” and his hand came down to stroke the side of your features as you silkily began to bob, “just like that, baby, yes,” drool gradually began to drip down as your lips stretched around his fat girth. When you then momentarily came up for air, Frank tilted his chin and said, “don’t forget the nuts, sweetheart,” and you swiftly bowed down to sloppily make out with his heavy sack, “give them some love as well.”

Then, just as you were about to return your attention to his painfully hard length, he manoeuvred your head for you and only relished in a few seconds of your butterfly-like pace before his hips twisted beneath you and bucked up into your efforts, fucking your little mouth till his cock plunged all the way down your throat. Spit bubbled up at the corners of your lips as his fingers curled around to hold your head in place just a moment longer, letting him fuck your throat till tears began to spew forth. You knew by the sensation that if you’d been lying on your back, the imprint of his cock would have been clear as day in the column of your throat, a familiar bulge that Frank would often let his fingers trace if he caught sight of it. 

Strings of slobber spiderwebbed from your swollen and gasping lips as he finally plucked you off of him. Sitting up more, he brought his face further down and pressed his mouth to yours, smothering the smile that appeared on your features as soon as you got up for air. 

As he impatiently ripped your bra off and you reached down to pull off your panties, they clung to your weepy cunt. Not being able to resist, yourself, you reached down and swept your fingers through your folds, your eyebrows crinkling up at the discovery of just how wet you’d gotten. 

Picking you up, Frank placed you back in his lap before his kisses faded and he layed back down. Raising yourself further up on your knees to hover above him, he grabbed a hold of the base of himself and briefly dragged the tip of him through your petals, flicking your clit before he brought a broad palm to your hip and helped you sink down. 

“Fucking hell…” you flutteringly cursed as you braced a hand on his chest, “oh, F-Frank…”

Your thighs trembled slightly on either side of him as you slowly eased your way down, the stretch of his fat cock proving just staggering as ever. 

As you gently began to roll your hips and find a calm pace that let you feel each and every single detail of him, your eyes fluttered shut as he stretched you out. Repeatedly raising your hips up till just the essence of him remained, you’d then sink back down, each time your slow pace nearly caused your pussy to clench and shrink back entirely so that it felt as if he’d have to split you open all over again. 

But just as you began to lose yourself to the heavenly sensation and let yourself slam back down with more ferocity, Frank’s cock slipped out of your creamy cunt completely. 

A whimper swiftly escaped you as your eyes blinked back open, but the man below you didn’t seem to move a muscle as he just uttered, “put it back in, baby,” which you swiftly reached down to do, moaning loudly as he slipped back into your warmth. His strong fingers dented the curve of your ass as you fulfilled his command, “there you go, good girl,” then swatted his wide palm against your backside to kickstart you back into action. 

Panting as you bounced like a little bunny, your hands crept up to squeeze your tits, pinching the nipples harshly as the melody of your efforts filled the tent. 

“That’s it, ride it,” he growled, offering your ass a few more slaps, “ride that fucking dick.”

Both of his hands then grabbed a hold of your bottom and surely bruised it as he aided your movements, though it didn’t take very long at all for him to take over completely and move your body atop of him, leaving you to just relax into his hold and sink deeper into the breathtaking sensation.

As he bounced you on his cock, he managed to nestle you down even further and grind his dick impossibly deep within you. 

Your head lulled back a bit as he rocked your form. Then, as you felt goosebumps tingle across your flesh and the intoxicating end near, you stopped fighting the urge and let your upper body crumble down against his. 

Fingers curling uselessly against his skin, you almost attempted to bury your face in his chest, right below his right shoulder. 

“Fucking hell,” your eyes rolled as you began to drool on his pec. 

Rolling his hips beneath you, he started to buck up into your weepy cunt before his palm landed a few tingling blows across your bottom. 

When your pussy finally clambered down around him, you nearly bit him as your features tensed up in a silent scream. His own demise soon arrived as well, especially as you throbbed and squeezed down around him so tightly that he nearly couldn’t move at all, just throw in the towel and let your cunt milk him dry. 

You almost fell asleep, laying there on his chest as it slowly rose and fell like a calm tide, Frank even assumed that you had until the moment that you murmured, “I’m so happy that you didn’t just keep driving…” 

“Uh…” his warm fingers drew slow patterns along your spine as he attempted to catch up, “when are you talking about?”

Faintly, you heard the tent rustle as Enzo sleepily stepped inside and plopped himself down on your tangled feet. 

“That you stopped back then on that day when my car broke down,” you uttered as your emotions began to fog up your voice, “thank you for stopping. If not, then we probably wouldn’t have ever met… god… I love you so much. I don’t even know how to–…” a heavy sigh flowed from you before you tilted your head and blinked up into his coffee eyes, tears glinting in your own, “I love you.”

With a molasses-like expression softening up his features, his fingers then tugged a strand of your hair out of your forehead before he replied, “I love you too, Y/n.”

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[flowerandblood]

The Temple of the God

[ Ares • Ettore x Aphrodite • female ]

[ warnings: incest obviously, sex content, fingering, smut, angst, violence, swearing, marital infidelity ]

[ description: Many men look at her with lust, however, no one's gaze is as terrifying as that of her brother, the god of war, cruel and cold, reminding her more of a barbarian than one of the kings of Olympus. He is known to care little about pleasing women in his brutal rapprochements with them, however, he surprises her with his attitude when he visits her one night. ]

This oneshot is my Valentine's Day gift to all of you. I love you, thank you for being here! I plan to come back to this couple in the future, let me know what you think! 💕

Part 2 − The Temple of War

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

My other works: Masterlist

_____

She could see it in the way he looked at her. She saw it in the light movement of his head, his raised chin, his slightly parted lips, his gait lazy, confident, careless, like that of a bear or a lion. He circled around her, angry and frustrated, unable to get what he wanted.

There was something animalistic in his nature, in his posture, in his aura, his gaze seemed to her empty, yet at the same time endlessly deep and dark; he could not concentrate on calm deliberation, there was a perpetual, irrepressible storm in his mind.

He would exert himself on the battlefields, at the head of armies of his heroes, with whom he would train and duel for days, their muscular, broad bodies often completely naked, glistening with sweat and oil.

She watched them sometimes from the windows of her chambers on Olympus. Their great wars and pointless exercises aimed at making them tear their opponents to shreds, with one sword cut depriving them of their members, wallowing in their blood.

Her brother did not abhor carcasses, decay, murder, cruelty, she thought he fed on it, his enemies knew no mercy from him, their pleas clashing with the cold stone that was his heart.

Her nature was the complete opposite of his and they both knew that they had nothing to offer each other. However, whenever he caught sight of her silhouette, walking in the company of her servants, river and mountain nymphs, entertaining her with conversation, he did not take his piercing, hot gaze off her, his lips pressed into a thin line; he turned the hilt of his sword as if in a trance then, drifting away with his thoughts.

He did not desire her, he wanted to devour her.

She knew that he had cohabited with many women, including her maidservants, who later lamented to her that he was brutal and cruel, that he did not know or understand what female fulfilment and joy were, did not know the women's bodies and their secrets, because he was only interested in his own fulfilment.

One day she visited him while he was practising with his warriors; they were wrestling and throwing each other to the ground, the one who gave up had to pat the other on the shoulder.

They were completely naked.

Seeing her, several of them covered themselves, knowing full well who she was, ashamed that she might judge them or their bodies, mock them and expose them to the ridicule.

She, however, approached her brother, looking straight into his eyes beaming with utter black emptiness, his broad chest adorned with drops of sweat rising and falling in heavy breathing.

He stood before her without any sign of embarrassment, his eyes roaming all over her body, judging apparently how her flesh presented itself in her soft velvet-like translucent white robe, pearls braided into the curls of her hair. They stared at each other for a moment in silence, as if testing each other, her face, like his, expressing nothing.

"Stay away from my servants, brother. They have complained to me that you are hurting them." She said at last, his jaw clenched at her words, his nostrils quivering in impatience.

He didn't answer.

He never answered.

She turned away, heading back towards the cloisters, feeling the thirsty gazes of the men turning behind her, disappearing at last into the halls of the gigantic ancient palace.

Men craved her for many reasons, one of which was the urge to prove to themselves that they could be desired by the goddess of love herself.

It was a great oversimplification, however, because of her experience this is what she came to be called, people, men and women, began to offer prayers to her begging her blessing in their marriages, asking for her intervention in matters others would have been afraid to whisper about.

She blessed ardent loves, burning to the core.

Yet she herself, though she was ashamed to admit it, had not experienced one herself.

Every time she thought it was the one, the man she believed to be her beloved died, or betrayed her by following another goddess, bored. Her heart was broken so many times that she allowed herself to be approached by men only to give her physical pleasure.

Her husband, Hephaestus, was a good and warm-hearted man. He spent his days in his great forge located in the heart of the volcano, in which the fire flowed constantly. She visited him there rarely, the dust and noise there was unbearable for her.

Although they both had respect for each other and a kind of cordiality, he preferred to devote himself to his work. He did not understand her needs, just as she did not understand his, for which she did not blame him.

Their marriage, unlike that of Zeus and Hera, was more peaceful, both of them resigned to their roles and didn't get in each other's way.

She knew, however, that before her father, ruler of the thunderbolts and all of Olympus, had decided to marry her to Hephaestus, it had been the God of War himself who had furiously demanded her hand, believing that she was his to claim.

Their father did not share his decision, apparently fearing his violent nature and what kind of husband he would turn out to be.

Her brother then disappeared for years, sinking into great wars and battles, the earth trembled from his rage, from the peaks of their heavenly mountain she heard the cries and moans of his enemies.

That day, after what she had told him, he came to her at night.

Completely naked, without a trace of embarrassment on his face, he walked slowly across the cold stone floor towards her bed, draped with a canopy and translucent curtains, which he pushed aside with an impatient flick of his hand, passing between them.

He stopped when he caught sight of her bare figure, looking at him with furrowed brows she raised on one elbow, feeling no shame whatsoever, yet unable to stop the squeeze between her thighs and the heat in her lower abdomen noticing that at the sight of her body his manhood twitched and swelled.

"Get out." She said coolly, but he only hummed as if he was considering something. She turned on her back, ready to scream if necessary, knowing her servants would come to her aid and her brothers would drag him away from her.

She was curious, however, to see what he would do.

She looked vigilantly at his silhouette walking slowly towards her, with his big cold black eyes and tense body he reminded her of a wild animal preparing to attack.

She thought he was about to throw himself at her and try to take her against her will.

He, however, sat down beside her; his large, wide hand raised and, in an uncertain, calm movement, ran down her thigh, his fingers digging into her skin as if he wanted to see what it felt like.

"− like velvet −" He murmured low, breathing through his mouth as if he was trying to calm himself; she seemed to notice on his face something of childish curiosity, as if she and her body was something unremarkable and completely incomprehensible to him.

His hand went higher, to her breast and began to rub and play with it, as if he liked the shape of it and how pleasant it was to the touch. She sighed quietly, realising with disbelief that what he was doing and how he was behaving was making her wet, her fleshy insides pulsing with tension.

Finally his fingers ran over her neck and face, his thumb stopped and parted her plump, glistening lips; he leaned over her as if he wanted to get a proper look at her, his warm breath enveloped her skin, the smell of his sweat seemed primal, masculine to her, her body involuntarily quivered at the thought.

He kissed her, kissed her as if he wanted to devour her, his caress full of chaos and impatience, of his hot, sticky lips, of his wet tongue, of his saliva and teeth. She gasped into his mouth, surprised to feel what he was doing between her thighs, her heart pounding like mad.

He groaned low into her mouth in surprise and tightened his fingers on her cheeks, panting hard as her hand gripped firmly his hard, swollen manhood.

She gasped for air when she felt how generously he had been bestowed by the heavens; she gave him a few slow, encouraging squeezes sliding her hand from the fat, pink head of his cock to it's very base, his hips involuntarily began to respond to her movements.

"− harder −" He commanded, closing his eyes, his hand involuntarily squeezed her breasts, too hard and without sensitivity. She hissed quietly, clamping her hand tighter on his length, wanting to cause him pain; he growled feeling it, digging his fingers into the skin of her cheek, looking at her with rage.

"− not like that − more gently −" She explained, clamping her hand over his, showing him with the strokes of her fingers how he should caress her, directing his thumb to her nipple.

"− rub this place − ah, yes, just like that −" She mumbled, tilting her head back, feeling his impatient breath on her, watching her and her reactions with interest, surprised apparently at how she was able to change in a matter of moments.

She felt his length tremble in her grasp when he heard her first, quiet moans.

"− that's enough −" He said impatiently, laying down on top of her, his large hands, rough from holding the sword, gripped her thighs, wanting to spread them apart and finally possess her, her fingers tightening on his sweaty, muscular shoulders.

"− no − not yet − touch me there −" She mumbled.

He looked at her with a gaze from which her whole body froze, it seemed to her that his irises were completely black, menacing, burning with a desire that destroyed and devoured.

For a moment he didn't move, breathing heavily as if he was considering her words; she licked her lips realising that he had never done this before.

He had never touched a woman down there with his fingers or his lips, never caressed her before he owned her.

She swallowed loudly, sliding her hand down to his, in a gentle motion encouraging him to sink his fingers into her hot, leaking womanhood.

She heard him draw in a loud breath at the sensation, foreign and unfamiliar, tense, he rested the weight of his body on his elbow, leaning to the side, watching from the corner of his eye what he was doing to her.

"− here, brother − touching me here will give me pleasure −" She whispered, guiding his fingertips to the bud hidden between her folds, showing him how to tease her clit with circular, slow movements.

She parted her lips, feeling the pleasant tingling in her lower abdomen, her hips involuntarily began to respond to his strokes.

"− only here? −" He asked lowly, furrowing his eyebrows, his stony face expressing concern at her words knowing that the place she was showing him was outside and not deep inside her. She sighed quietly, guiding his middle finger to her slit; he looked at her face, gasping out loud, feeling the way her fleshy walls resisted him, hot and sticky.

"− not only − can you feel it? − right here −" She whispered, directing him to the spot inside her just above her opening, between her muscles. He shuddered all over, licking his lips, dried apparently from emotion, his erection hard and swollen, twitching involuntarily, betraying how aroused he was.

"− yes −" He exclaimed, digging his middle finger into the spot she showed him, his thumb teasing her pearl, clearly wanting to see what would happen when he started touching both places at once. She moaned loudly, tilting her head back, delighted at how unexpectedly pleasurable the sensation was.

"− gods − put it inside me −" She mewled, feeling that she no longer cared about retaining any remnants of her dignity, her free hand sank into his hair, pulling him close. He grunted loudly into her mouth like an animal throwing himself at her body, her fingers dug into the bare skin of his back, a moan of exertion escaped her throat when immediately the thick tip of his cock began to push against her tight walls.

"− wider −" He exhaled with a grin that was disturbing to say the least as with an impatient, confident thrust he forced her to let him in deeper. She breathed loudly, unable to believe how hard he was stretching her and threw her head back, a drop of sweat running down her long neck.

"− brother −" She whispered, something in the way she said the word made him lose his patience, his length began to slam into her in a fast, brutal rhythm, each time rubbing the spot inside her from where she could see the stars; it seemed to her that everything around her was spinning, the fingers of his hand cupped her cheeks, forcing her to look at him.

"− no, fucking look at me − look at me and listen to what my cock is doing to this weeping cunt − pathetic −" He hissed out through clenched teeth, as if he was both furious and proud at the same time. She whimpered helplessly, a loud smack echoed around them each time his thighs hit the bare skin of her buttocks, there was something lewd and definitive about the sound, proof of how wrong she was.

"− mghm −" She babbled, feeling like he was going to pierce her, the movements of his hips quick and aggressive, full of desperation and desire, their breaths embarrassingly loud and raptured. They stared at each other with their mouths wide open, as if they couldn't believe in what was happening.

"− what does it feel like, brother? − what does it feel like to fuck your own sister? −" She gasped, heard his surprised sigh at her question, his cock quivered hard inside her, his fingers dug harder into the soft skin of her cheeks, causing her pain.

He was moving so fast inside her that he was hardly slipping out of her, her fleshy walls, all leaking from her moisture, were no longer resisting him.

It seemed to her that he wanted to reply something, but the pleasure took his speech away; he leaned over suddenly and pressed his forehead against hers, panting loudly, his hot breath enveloping her face.

She could smell the masculine scent of his sweat, from which her cunt began to throb around him, her fingers traveled down from his back to his buttocks, stroking them with movements that could be called tender.

"− it feels good −" He whispered, looking at her with a gaze that sent shivers through her, at the same time animalistic, empty and full of something she couldn't name, desire as dark and disturbing as the night around them. The sure, loud, deep thrusts of his hips made her breath get stuck in her throat, she thought with horror, feeling a pleasant tickle in her lower abdomen, that she was about to come.

"− it feels right −" He muttered and ran his tongue over her lips, something in the way he said those words, in this shameless, lewd gesture, in the way the tip of his fat cock rubbed her again and again at the spot of her greatest pleasure made her melt in front of him.

She involuntarily tilted her head back and closed her eyes, a soft, helpless moan of delight broke from her throat as a wave of wonderful heat and relief shook her body, her walls began to squeeze him, sucking him inside.

"− fuck − fuck-fuck-fuck −" He merely muttered before sighing loudly.

She felt his hot seed spill inside her, filling her, and although she rarely allowed anyone such an honour, she was unable to deny him.

She stroked his naked buttocks with calm movements full of affection, in some subconscious, natural reflex, he continued to thrust into her for a moment longer, looking down at her with his mouth open wide in pleasure.

They stared at each other, breathing loudly, and she raised her hand, letting her fingers run over his temple, his cheek and his clearly defined long jaw. She saw him close his eyes for a moment, as if he wanted to remember this moment and this feeling.

"− there is no place for me to rest − no haven where I can take refuge − here is my only true temple −" He gasped in half whisper, as if he were revealing to her some shameful secret that was tormenting him. She swallowed quietly, feeling his body cling to hers, her breasts pressed against his bare, broad chest, his face snuggled into her hot cheek, his soft manhood still throbbed deep inside her.

"− my home −"

_____

General Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@triscy @re-per @diiickbrainn @queenofshinigamis @eponaartemisa @zaldritzosrose @writerloversjm @lauzy87 @targaryenrealnessdarling @briefcollectivepersona @ginarely-blog @lcecgg @an0ther-us3r @blackswxnn

[litomilo]

billie eilish x fem!reader 🧟‍♀️

context: the world is in a post apocalyptic scenario, a stranger saves you from zombies and you end up taking her home.

warnings: weapons, zombies, and some making out.

"everything is so fucked up out there, there's nothing... and no one" i tell my brother, richard, coming back from the street after seeing destroyed houses and a total of zero people, at least not people who were actually alive.

"they weren't there?" he asks referring to those fucking undead, also known as zombies.

"i saw some from afar, later when we go to meet sofia and olivia we'll see more. we need to get ready" i say leaving the gun I had in my hands on the table and go to the bathroom to take a shower.

we have a few weapons with us, my mom was police officer and my father was a colonel in the army, they both died leaving two guns and a sword with us.

[...]

after looking at the clock on the wall i head to the room where my brother was "we have to go before it gets dark" i say watching him reloading his gun.

"of course, we can go then" he answers.

we left the house and walked along the sidewalks cautiously, being as quiet as possible, going unnoticed for most of the way, but...

“damn it” i whisper hearing a twig break beneath my brother's foot, what automatically brought quick footsteps behind us.

in a quick reasoning i looked ahead and saw the house we needed to get to. I calculated that: we were about 600 meters from the house, which is equivalent to about 8 minutes walking... maybe 5 if we run.

it might work.

"ricky, run. if they get too close i stay, you go on.” i whisper grabbing his hand and start to run, he's faster so our hands our disentangle a few seconds later. the closer we got to the house, the closer the zombies got to us.

i shot back to knock them down, slowly i was left behind while ricky approached sofia's house, but then, suddenly, the few zombies that were behind me fell "what the fuck?" i think out loud, approaching them, trying to understand what happened.

"u fucking idiot, don't!" a girl i definitely don't know appears, speaking a little louder than a whisper "are you crazy?" she looks at me indignantly. she's very pretty "i don't know where you're going, but you better run" she says and we start to hear footsteps "cat got your tongue, huh?"

"um, sorry" i whisper coming out of my trance "i'm going to meet my brother's girlfriend and her sister... want to come with me?" i ask and she seems to think for a few seconds.

"i have nothing to lose, hope she lives nearby, they're getting closer".

[...]

ricky, the girl whose name i don't know, and i arrived at sofia's house safely. the blue eyed girl who was with me attracted everyone's attention since she appeared by surprise, but no one bothered her, probably out of fear since she was holding a huge gun.

"who are you?" olivia asks hesitant".

"billie, billie eilish" she answers nonchalantly and olivia immediately responds with another question "and why are you here?"

"when you invited me i wasn't expecting going to some kind of interrogation" billie rolls her eyes, sitting down in the armchair as she looks at me.

"y/n, why the hell is she here??" sofia whispers looking at me and i sigh "maybe 'cause she helped me not to be eaten by zombies?!" i answer.

"alright then... i'm gonna make something to eat. we only have two rooms, i'll sleep on the couch." sofia says, heading to the kitchen. olivia will sleep with her boyfriend— my brother. that means me and billie... "please try not to make loud noises, and don't even think about opening the curtains."

i take a deep breath and look at billie, who was tying her hair "u don't mind us sleeping in the same room, do u?" i ask her.

"not really" she says, giving me a slight smile.

"alright, if you want, you can come with me to... see the room" i didn’t expect her to actually follow me, but she did, trailing behind me to the door of the room. as i walked in, i saw the window boarded up with wooden planks behind a black curtain, and just one bed.

a king-size bed. holy shit.

"cool," billie says, totally unenthusiastic, walking towards the bed. "the bed's soft," she laughs, lying down. "come here." she looks at me and i look at her hesitant. "don’t look at me like that, you’re gonna have to sleep with me tonight" she says, making me choke on air.

seeing this, she gets up and walks toward me, making my heart skip a beat. "why are you nervous, y/n?" she call me by my name making me shiver.

"i'm not nervous" i replies, almost stuttering. i curse myself in thought as she laugh.

"not nervous?" billie teases walking closer making me walk backwards until my back hits the wall "you seem nervous" she whispers. i just stare her not saying a word, i look at her lips briefly and notice a sly smile appear on it "did the cat got your tongue again?".

"earlier when we met i was silent 'cause i was thinking that... you're so pretty" i whisper without thinking.

"yeah?" as she says that i notice what i just said and feel my face get hot, but i hum a "mhm".

billie licked her lips moving her face closer to mine, brushing our lips together, turning it into a kiss slowly. she grabs my waist pulling my body closer to hers and she licks my lower lip asking permission. i open my mouth slightly, immediately feeling our tongues gently touching.

i shyly put my hands on her cheeks while she pinned me against the wall making me gasp softly, and that was exactly when someone knocked on the door, interrupting us.

she pulled away, going back to the bed.

a/n: should i... should i do part 2? tell me in the comments if you want to be @ if i post it.

[wonysugar]

sorry | yoo jimin

synopsis : her hands were always warm.

pairing : childhoodbff!karina x fem!reader

genre : all of us are dead au, angst (i’m sorry), childhood friends to lovers (?), high school au?

tags : zombie apocalypse, spoilers to the show?? it’s better if you watched it, so you get the refs ykyk, flashbacks, the entirety of aespa are in this, only karina is relevant tho

warnings : blood is mentioned, injuries are mentioned, implied dissociating i think, gross zombies, eating humans and stuff, you get it

word count : 2.4k

a/n : this was so self indulgent LOOK I FINISHED THE SHOW TODAY AND I SOBBED I NEEDED TO GET IT OUT ONE WAY OR ANOTHER💔💔also not proofread uhm looks around if you see any mistakes no you don’t! :]

“y/n, barricade the door.”

you stared at aeri as she yelled from across the classroom, fighting off another braindead zombie, barely winning and almost getting bitten. as a result, ning groaned, gathered up her courage and threw a chair at the walking dead that lunged at her friend. then, she stabbed the being’s neck before it got the chance to get up.

eventually, once she was spared a few moments to inhale and exhale, the japanese girl’s gaze met yours, eyebrows immediately furrowing afterwards.

“what are you staring at— barricade the fucking door, you dumbass?” she yelled, somehow louder this time, before having to stab another zombie in the neck with her pocket knife.

as if snapping out of a trance, you mentally slapped yourself, quickly looked around and rushed to grab the nearest desk, despite struggling to pick it up. then, you pushed it towards the sliding doors of the classroom afterwards. minjeong, the incredibly athletic girl she is, while also having heard the dozens of zombies running towards your location, quickly slid the other door shut and stacked another desk on top of the one you put.

you both reluctantly backed away, glancing at each other as if to seek reassurance from the other’s stare. you both listened closely for the sound of the impact from the zombies hitting the door, then unconsciously sighed from relief when you did hear it.

“thanks, sports girl.” you teased the short girl, snickering when she hit your shoulder playfully (which kinda hurt considering the strength she had, despite being seemingly petite.)

you felt the tension in your body fade away with each breath that was taken, you crumbled to the ground and allowed your body to get rest.

“also,” minjeong turns to look at aeri before addressing her, “you didn’t tell me you knew how to fight, who taught you?”

the girl in question runs her fingers through her hair as she groans, seemingly annoyed by the stupid question, before cheekily smiling, “i guess when you have to fight bitches every once in a while, you end up learning a few things.” 

you all laughed, glad to be finally able to breathe and take a break from the constant amount of attacks you’ve endured up until this point.

“wait—“ placed ning before any of you said anything, readjusting her glasses nervously as she stumbled on her words, 

“where’s jimin?” 

-

“fuck fuck fuck fuck—“ she mumbled to herself in panic as she ran at full speed through the different hallways of the school, carrying the hard metal rod she found on the ground as a weapon whilst also escaping the army of things chasing after her, occasionally hitting unexpected obstacles left and right as hard as she could. 

she felt her legs slightly giving out on her as she sprinted, the numerous injuries on her body bringing her a clear and not at all appreciated disadvantage. in a normal situation? she’d probably be limping and be annoying about it, asking her friends to carry her to class and whatnot,

however, this was a life or death situation, about 15 different zombies were behind her trying to devour her and half of her friends were probably a part of that same pile,

limping and being annoying to her friends wasn’t really an option right now.

-

“what do you mean she’s still out there???” you shot up, your blood running cold upon hearing that your best friend might’ve ended up being a 5 star course meal for the zombies, “you couldn’t have made sure she was with us before closing the door??”

“i couldn’t have done anything, genius, calling out to her while she’s trying to draw the attention of those fuckers from the other side of the school would just defeat the whole purpose.” sternly said the japanese girl, giving you back the same energy, also panicking for jimin in the process.

you walked back and forth in the room, pacing and trying to figure out where she possibly could have went, eventually groaning and stopping in front of the mean girl again, grabbing her shoulders, “so what?? she’s just dead now?”

“look, y/n, she’s probably just hiding in some classroom safe and sou—“

“i’m going after her. i’ll bring her back, you guys stay here.” you declared, immediately rushing to the backdoor.

“no, y-y/n—“ is what ning said, stuttering, before you bolted out of the classroom at full speed.

“okay well.. she’s definitely dying.” concluded minjeong before getting hit by a worried ning. “don’t say that—“ responded the latter.

-

“die you stupid fucking bitch diediediedie—“ exclaimed jimin, hitting the zombie that was clinging onto her foot and hissing at her with the same metal rod that she was carrying for what felt like several hours, grunting desperately with each hit, using every fibre of her body to kill it, until all of its blood splattered onto her. 

after a while of it being unresponsive, she shakes its hand off of her shoe and watches its lifeless hand hit the ground. then gripping onto her femur injury trying to stop it from abundantly bleeding, shutting her eyes closed in hopes of making it somehow less painful. somebody on the level below her was screaming for their life, so all those braindead whores were away for a while. she was contemplating on how to run if they ever came back faster than expected, now that her brain has actually acknowledged the pain in her limbs, it was gonna be harder. 

during that time, jimin couldn’t help but think about you, wondering if she was gonna be able to see you again, wondering if you were even alive. wondering if—

“jimin?” 

that was your voice.

she recognized it better than her own.

“y/n.”

she immediately turned her head to look at the source of the noise, not being able to keep her flinch contained upon hearing it. then, upon realizing that you seemed fine, she couldn’t help sighing from relief. 

but then she noticed that you were crying.

and you noticed that she was hurt.

rushing towards her, you quickly put your arm under hers for support and help her walk to near safety before the undead figured out you were here. you could think about the rest later, all that mattered was that she was okay. 

walking into a seemingly empty classroom, you waited until something potentially jumped at you. after watching out for a couple of seconds, you set jimin down onto the ground carefully as you closed the door behind you. before you could even turn around, the older girl spoke,

“how did you even know where i was?” she asked, still huffing from the sprinting she’s been doing while trying to survive.

“your shoes are covered in blood, footsteps are not hard to follo—“

her nose.

blood.. was dripping from it.

it was bleeding.

her nose was bleeding.

she curiously raised her eyebrow at your sudden change in expression, “what happened? did a zombie scare you or something? you look like you’ve seen a ghost.” she giggled.

“j-jimin?” 

“what? seriously y/n, you’re scaring me. what is it?” she continued giggling only nervously, this time, in hopes of making you feel better, whatever it was that suddenly got you like this.

“y-your.. your n-nose..” you said, your voice barely above a whisper, 

“it’s.. bleeding.”

-

“oh come on.. tell mee. your secrets are safe with me, i promiseee—” she pleaded with you, making a joking hand rubbing motion as you subtly laughed at her unfunny attempts to try and win you over. you could never let her know that she was funny; her ego would be too flattered.

“we’re in the middle of some sort of a zombie apocalypse and you’re still somehow managing to be annoying.” you joked with her, to which she pouted in response.

“ugh you’re no fun..“

“sorry that i’m trying to survive, jimin??” you said back using a sarcastic tone. she groaned and rolled her eyes before speaking again,

“look y/n, we’re probably gonna die anyway, okay? might as well die knowing everything about the other, don’t you think?” she tried reasoning with you, and yeah, while it did make a little bit of sense why she’d think that way, just in case you did survive, you had a dignity to keep.

you couldn’t just tell her that you’ve had a crush on her ever since you were kids.

-

“…what?” she said, her voice suddenly matching the volume of yours. blinking at you as her smile drops, distraught from the piece of information you just gave her, you can see a small nervous smile forming again as she approached her hand to her nose. “come on, you can’t make jokes like that they’re not funny at all man—“

red.

was that blood? 

no, no, it couldn’t be. of course it wasn’t.

right?

right?

when she looked back up at you, she noticed that you slightly backed away from her, still staring at her with nothing but pure fear in your eyes.

you weren’t scared of her, were you?

why would you be?

-

“man that doesn’t even taste that bad.” you affirmed, still not done chewing the fresh bibimbap, the taste of the absurd amount of wasabi you put on it not having fully hit you yet. she simply looked at you with hooded eyes, nodding at your claims like they completely made sense. she was patiently waiting for it, she was waiting for you to jolt at the actual taste.

and god was it funny when you did.

“f-fuck?? jimin oh mai fuck— jimin wawer— path me the wawer oh my—“ 

the sound of her own laughter resonating in the food court, everybody was staring at you two like you were crazy, and it was fortunate you physically weren’t able to laugh.

cause your two laughs mixed together sounded like one incredibly loud laugh, people knew you for it.

“next time, maybe don’t claim to tolerate something spicy when you’ve never even tasted it, got it?” she advised you, digging her hand into her bag as she looked for her water bottle, watching you eagerly nod. at that point? you needed to consume something that wasn’t wasabi.

-

“y/n i swear i didn’t get bitten i promise you it’s— it’s probably my blood pressure. yeah! m-maybe it’s too high or something i’m— i’m sure running was the c-cause.“ 

you quickly grabbed her hand as she was still sitting down.

cold.

it was cold.

-

“why are your hands always so fucking warm all the time? like— it could be -10 degrees celsius outside and your hands would still be warm.. i just don’t get it.” you questioned, holding onto her hand and observing it like it was some sort of rare object that needed to be analyzed.

your hands were always cold, it was no fair.

“maybe it’s just cause i have a really warm heart.” she said in a dramatic manner, naturally making you roll your eyes at her. then, when your eyes went back on her, you noticed something.

“hey jimin?” she hums in response, indicating you to continue, “where’d your name tag go?” 

she chuckles, “oh, i was supposed to give it to someone, but then i ended up just losing it somewhere.” 

you giggled as a reply, “fucking idiot.”

-

you choked back tears as she tried justifying herself, backing away further as she eventually got up from her seat on the ground. you heard the bones in her limbs slightly crack in the process, and you know she heard it too,

she just wanted to pretend like she didn’t.

tears rolled down her face as she stumbled on her words and her steps, the struggle to get air in her lungs growing bigger by the second, “y/n i swear— please listen to me i— i’m fine i-i just—”

how did she get infected? she didn’t even get bit.

“i-it’s impossible.” she thought aloud, “i didn’t—��

then she remembered,

the blood that splattered.

the injury on her leg. 

fuck.

“jimin.” you whispered, the tears that you were holding back finally dripping down your face as you saw her. her veins slowly popping out as blood came out of her mouth, slightly drooping.

you saw her turn right in front of your eyes, and there was nothing you could do.

you just had to leave her there. 

her eyes were bloodshot by this point, and she was fighting back only god knows what to not let her neck crack in front of you. she couldn’t see anything anymore, the only thing she thought to do at that moment, before anything was too late, was to reach into her skirt pocket, grabbing something small, you couldn’t tell what it was. you didn’t know what it was,

until she deployed it onto your palms. 

-

“oh stop it.. not my fault nametags are so small, it’s a pain in the ass trying to find something so tiny, so i kinda just stopped looking for it.” she tried justifying, but you just kept laughing at her.

“who were you even planning to give it to, anyway?” you added, trying not to seem too hurt about her having a crush. you had to be supportive, because jimin wasn’t just the person you loved,

she was also your best friend.

“now you’re doing a little too much.. i’m so obviously not telling you that.” 

-

“w-what are you..?” 

yoo jimin.

“m-my nametag. it’s yours n-now.” she said, eyes twitching from the pain she felt, her bones cracking with each movement she made.

what?

her nametag?

what?

“i’m s-sorry i couldn’t— t-tell you sooner.” she stuttered, clutching onto her bloodied up shirt like it was gonna help her feel better. “i p-pussied out.” she giggled, still sobbing.

“sorry.” was the last word she could muster up.

you stared at her.

and she stared at you back, smiling before leaving the room and sliding the door shut behind her.

it all went by so quick.

you didn’t even get to say goodbye.

wasn’t this all just a bad dream?

you were gonna wake up right? 

the zombies running, they weren’t running.

the screams in the hallways, they weren’t hers.

they weren’t even real to begin with, right?

the zombies weren’t eating her.

you stared at her bloody nametag, tears falling down onto it.

yoo jimin.

yoo jimin.

the zombies don’t even exist either, do they? 

you made all of it up, right?

right?

-

“ugh lame.. i’m your best friend, you should be telling me.. booo tomato tomato..” 

she laughed, hitting your shoulder playfully before laying her eyes on you, smiling tenderly as she watched you pout. 

“sorry.”

[hana-no-seiiki]

Does aeon of dreams reader has emanators? I think someone inspired by the sandman myth would be pretty cool

AEON OF DREAMS! READER HEADCANNONS

Yes! Their worshippers in general are called Dreamers or Those that Enter the Majesty’s Domain.

Their missionaries/emanators are called Sleepwalkers. Their churches are called Chambers/Domains of Fantasies and the main one is named after their resting place “The Cradle”

Note: It’s important to distinguish between the Sleepwalkers that are completely loyal to Aeon of Dreams! Reader alone and their eternal sleep, to those that believe they should be awoken and also believe in Nanook.

There are also the extremists that force other people into perma sleep called the Heralds of the Sleeping Death. Similar to the Sandman myth but imagine an army of people throwing dust that instantly puts you into a siesta . . . except that early afternoon of yours lasts for an eternity.

There are also like - whole ass denominations that are all just based on a ship with another Aeon.

Yaoshi x Reader ? That’s the Abundant Trance / Trance in Abundance denomination that aside from vehemently shipping the two believe that sleep is the best medicine.

Qilipoth x Reader ? The Preservation of the Fantasy denomination . They believe in cryogenesis to preserve one’s sleeping state to forever dream.

IX x Reader? You think that real life is worthless and just want to sleep forever and indulge the dreams you can actually control? Join the club kid. It’s called the Void in Reality, Infinity in Dormancy.

and ofc Nanook x Reader. Sleepwalkers turned Anti Sleep Legion turned Anti Matter Legion. There are pretty chill ones that just don’t like sleep at all and are interested in ways to keep themselves awake as much as possible. But most of them believe that sleep is a cage they need to help other people to be liberated from.

And those aren’t even the extreme members that are all like “cool imma destroy everything and myself so that my two gods can live happily ever after. im gonna sleep eternally in the afterlife anyways. byeee-“

if people are interested ill edit in all the denominations based on ships lol but for now have those (im specifically hoping to write the erudition/hunt x reader denominations cause those would be interesting imo)

©️ hana.no.seiiki - yun | 2023

[bluecollarmcandtf]

Which one do you want?

Just off a quiet highway somewhere in the Midwest, you might see James advertising my new product. He used to own this car dealership with his wife, but she's long gone. James hasn't thought about her since I pulled out my pendulum and put him in a trance. He just spends his days standing on the side of the road holding up that sign like I told him to.

You can see I marked him at 40 bucks, which is well over what he's worth, but I like to keep him around to advertise and flag down potential customers. His abs are visible even in the rain, and the neon underwear I put him in is sure to catch every driver's eye.

If you pull into my dealership, I'd be happy to show you my selection you can choose from...

Tyler, here, used to be my brother-in-law, but my sister dumped him real fast after she found the guy was a cheater. Since, he wasn't family anymore, I had no reason not to hypnotize every thought out of his head.

She has no idea I did this to her ex, but it won't hurt to have Tyler out of the picture for good. I like to give him a little punch in the gut every time I pass. It's my form of ongoing payback. He only ever reacts with a stifled groan since his mind is mush, but it's still cathartic to see him in pain.

Tyler will probably go fast since he's so traditionally handsome, but the vengeful part of me hopes a more sadistic client will take him off my hands.

Next is Caesar. This guy used to work at the auto garage next door, but when I saw him I knew I had to have him. He put on a real tough guy act when I introduced myself, but a pudgy working man like him should act accordingly in my opinion.

After introducing his gaze to my pendulum, he practically fell into my arms. I had my fun warping Ceasar's personality to be more like that of a submissive dog, but even that got a bit old. Sure, I made him love and cuddle me like the perfect partner, but he tracked mud everywhere and he always seemed to stink.

I hope whoever pays for him doesn't mind always telling the oaf to hose himself down every once in awhile. I suppose they could just use Ceasar for the cheap manual labor and just forget about his hygiene entirely.

This is Mike. He's a real piece of trash. I caught him trying to steal one of my cars in the middle of the night. He sure was shocked when my army of hypnotized hunks ran out and apprehended him, per my command.

He might look mean, but trust me, Mike's been thoroughly hypnotized and broken in just like every other dude on this lot. He wouldn't be standing there holding that 'For Sale' sign all day if he weren't!

Now, I know that his lack of hair might be a turn off for a lot of folks, so I'm willing to go down on the price. 20 dollars is already pretty low, but I want to make sure you all can afford your own hypnotized hunk. It's not like it's too difficult for me to go out and find a couple more idiots to fill their place. Hell, if you really need it, I might sell you a guy for a dollar!

This boy in blue is Lt. O'Riley. I don't know what his full name is. I'm just going off what it says on his badge. Now, I know that hypnotizing an officer of the law is risky, but O'Riley was being a real pain in my neck, always poking his nose in my business.

I hypnotized his partner too.

I think that guy's name was Brooks or something, but he was real ugly. I would've never been able to sell his fat ass, so I had him hand over his police uniform and turned him into my handyman, who's meant to be neither seen nor heard. He wears an old pair of dirty coveralls now and takes care of all the maintenance work. He's probably off scrubbing my housing from top to bottom right now since it's the middle of the day.

You could do that to officer O'Riley too, if you want, or maybe you keep that precious uniform on him. It's up to you.

This last guy is Don, and I know what you're going to say! I'm a little light on product at the moment, but don't worry.

I'm planning on driving into town real soon and restocking. Maybe I'll grab a few more officers this time. The police department is right down the street from that Halloween store. I could grab a couple more cops and put them in some stupid costumes.

Customers love a themed product, right?

Anyways, Don here didn't do anything to piss me off. He actually stopped in after seeing the sign. He wanted to purchase one of my brainless studs and pimp him out to all his friends for cheap cash. I liked the idea, but Don was far too handsome to just walk off my lot.

I offered to give him a tutorial of my hypnosis, and the guy naively agreed. His car has been collecting dust in the back ever since, and he's been added into the lineup of hot men standing for sale.

So, please come by if you're interested in taking any of these guys on a test drive! Let me know which one sparks your interest!

No need to be nervous.....unless you're a handsome man yourself. Then I might just have to use my pendulum on you!