#violent night sequel

[party-gilmore]

To PROPERLY follow the tradition of Die Hard, considering Violent Night is of course the spiritual sequel bastard love child of it and Home Alone, we now of course need a sequel with higher stakes.

May I propose: Jingle Hells.

[spoilers for Violent Night below]

During the events of Violent Night, an ancient enemy of Nicumond the Red, sleeping/locked away, deep within the earth/ancient vault prison, begins to stir.

His enemy has spilt blood again, for the first time in millenia... He can feel it. The stains of his past seeping into the frigid ground, vibrating the threads of destiny tying the two together.

Enraged, not so much at the fact that his enemy still lives and breathes but more because Nicumond has dared to pretend to be something else, to have hung up his hammer for so long, to have run from their eternal struggle...

After an X year long struggle to free his bonds, fueled by a renewed and raging thirst for vengeance, he BURSTS forth from the earth and streaks across the sky through the glimmering trail of the aurora borealis and a conduit, looking to all like a red comet burning away all the glimmering blue and green.

Santa is unprepared, unready. His adventure a few years past, he is no longer actively repressing his memories and accepts that they are part of him, but has still tried not to tap into the violence any more than absolutely necessary. Perhaps a scene or two of Mrs. Claus recognizing the restlessness in him now that it's been awoken, and doing her best to help him express it - pulling him away between breaks for axe throwing and mead, or some fun flirtatious sparring, a couple of other cute couples scenes that are just... sliiiightly violent. in adorable ways (with I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus playing in the BG) - so that he exercises it a little and gets it out just enough it doesn't bottle up and explode.

But it's not enough to fend off his ancient enemy with multiple millennia's worth of rage and vengeance.

After a brief battle, he's dragged down between the cracks in the earth, between the thin slots in the very dimensions themselves, molten rock sizzling and hissing as the craggy ravines begin to seal themselves up behind to leave only the corpses of his elven color guard littering the room as evidence - but not fast enough to avoid Mrs. Clause, jovially entering the room with a tray of cookies.

The platter clatters to the floor, cookies crumbling and scattering everywhere. She takes in the scene, hand to her heart, eyes darting as her brain processes just what's happened.

Then we hear the music change and see her eyes grow stony cold and those low drums from the Nicumond The Red score on the original OST pick up but it's a slightly different melody/song used for her theme and we get the dramatic montage of her braiding her hair and putting half of it up and now for the first time we see the shaved and tattooed side of her head and strapping her Good Boots on and swapping out the floofy dress for war leathers and furs and she grabs her husband's hammer in one hand and her own ornate axe in the other and it's full on silver haired visible buff strength under rotund fat and I can not stress this enough sexy as fuck

Anyways that's the plot of the second movie, she's gotta fight his minions through a couple layers of Holiday Hell to save her husband being held captive by Some Guy He Literally Hasn't Thought About In Millennia And Honestly Kind Of Forgot About And Can't Even Remember His Name, But Who Is Convinced They Are Archenemies With Massive Beef.

Layers include but are not limited to:

Black Friday at Walmart

Creepy Desatured Foggy Massive Christmas Tree Forest Canopy With Ornament Rigged Up Ass Shrapnel Grenades That Explode in Puffs Of Bright Neon And Shattering Glass And The Sound Of Bells, Having To Leap From Huge Branch To Huge Branch As She Fights With Nothing But Eternal Dark Fog Below Shoild She Fall

Silent Hill Style Abandoned Mall Christmas Village

A Distorted Memory Of A Happy Family Christmas Dinner Designed To Try And Trick Her Into Stopping, To Lure Her With A Dream Promise Of Peace And Happiness And Family And Everyone All Okay And Back Home Together (something something tragic child related backstory? a lost sheep son seeming like he's finally come home? a daughter who fell in battle?) That She Has Manage To See Through And Then Kill Everyone She Loves Even Though She Knows It's Not Real It's Not Real Its Not-

Inside A Snowglobe That Keeps Getting Jostled and Shaken And Turned On It's Various Sides For Sick Matrix Style Gravity Changing Fight Scenes

Interspersed with increasing comical scenes of meanwhile back at Hell HQ, Santa is tied up and bloody and frantically wracking his brain and trying to ask leading questions to figure out who the FUCK this guy torturing him IS without clueing the obvious megalomaniac into the fact he's... got no fucking idea.

The big key point the MOST important part of the movie is the way Santa's face lights up and the way he looks at his wife when she kool-aid man's through wall to save him all bloody and clothes torn and hair in disarray and wild eyes, just the biggest brightest most utterly devoted 'I love a woman who can kick my ass' expression possible in the history of time and space.

[yngai]

dash game, get to know me : top 10 favourite movies.

list your top 10 favourite movies & tag friends to do the same

the night comes for us (2018)

jackie brown (1997)

the joy luck club (1993)

hard boiled (1992)

the menu (2022)

possessor (2020)

the world's end (2013)

spree (2020)

irma vep (1996)

upgrade (2018)

(sympathy for) lady vengeance (2005)

tagged by : @croftborn. tagging : @serraluis, @ategod, @heavenmcde, @svnsworn (guilt tripping works, folks!), @afraidofchange, @godstrain, @wistrea.

[thetenthdoctorscompanion]

Are we getting more slutty Santa Claus?

[placetneplacet]

I am SHOCKED Day agreed to put the couple shirt on…

[the-night-puncher]

2 - Cemetery boys

Amazon recommended me this book while i was buying something else and the cover looked cool so here we are months after buying it i finally read it.

First things first i read the br translation and not only did they keep the use of neutral language in the book (bruxe) but also made a point of having all the team involved be queer wich is very nice and always appreciated.

The story was fine, i guessed who was the bad guy and what he was doing from the moment he was introduced and even how the story would end with Julian the dead boy being either ressurected or not being actually dead(turns out it was both) and the solving the crime part of the book was not very explored but the real focus of the book are Yadriel's attempt to be accepted as a man and a bruxo and his relationship with Julian and those are actually very well written.

Yadriel and Julian's relationship and growing romance was very sweet, every moment they spent together is gold. Julian's impulsiveness is a perfect balance for Yadriel's overthinking and they bring out the best out of each other, honestly the scenes in his bedroom where they were listening to music together and being gay were everything. I also was very glad that outside of misgendering Yadriel when they first met there was no conflict in the romance regarding his transness.

Not sure why but i was surprised both of them were already out, i feel like in these ya romances usually at least one of them is either in the closet or unaware of their queerness and i fully expected that to be Julian. Instead he is not only agressively out but has a queer found family of his own (do wish we had spent more time with them cause they were great).

Yadriel's relationship with his family and his desperation to be seen by them was something i didnt get at first, but seeing them interacting i got why that mattered to him and seeing that big connected community i really wanted him to be a part of that as well. And im so glad he not only gets that but his father apologizes and accepts him BEFORE he saves everyone and does some impossible bruxo shit no one has done in centurys, his family loves him for who he is and not just because he is the big damn hero.

Yadriel confronting his uncle in the end was kinda bad, it was way too obvious to work as a reveal and i just didnt care about the guy like stab him and move on... that said once he died it gets incredible and i legit got emotional when Julian came back to life only to see Yadriel dying for him(shoutout to Maritza for bringing him back and also for deciding that using animal blood for healing is terrible but human blood is more than ok i stan) and the moment where Julian is freaking out being protective over him to the point of almost fighting his dad was honestly my favorite part in the whole book.

Like i said i figured it would end with Julian being ressurrected early on and i was honestly kinda disappointed, like its a love story with a ghost its a tragic romance with no happy ending waiting to happen. But actually when we got there i was so happy and just seeing Yadriel get to introduce Julian to his mother and have him shouting and cheering for him cured my depression. Fuck tragedy.

[toxicanonymity]

that scream blurb that you posting about Ghostface being unconscious and the reader testing to see if he’s hard…. you have to make the full fic now pleaseee omg it was so good

Every inch

1.4k / m!ghostface x f!reader / from blurb.

SEQUELS | Slasher masterlist

Warnings/notes: I8+ noncon (ghostface unconscious) somnophilia. Based on the car scene from Scream II, but it's modern day (cell phones exist).  You can HC this as anyone but he's night walks coded if you read my other stuff.

Your skirt grazes his robe as you carefully stretch your right leg over the driver’s seat, trying not to touch him, trying not to wake him up.  It’s tricky crawling over Ghostface to get out of the car.  He smells faintly of weed and sweat.  You’ve never been close enough to smell him before. You’ve never been close to him at all for more than a few seconds, always with his knife in hand.  You hear him breathing behind the mask and assume he’s knocked out from the impact of the crash, but can't know for sure. 

He could be pretending for his own amusement, planning to taunt you then stab you at any moment. You’re going to have to open that car door sooner or later - it’s the only one left you haven’t tried.  It'll definitely make a noise. You hover there straddling him, delaying the inevitable. Straddling Ghostface, you think to yourself. Is this a nightmare? 

You slowly lower yourself into his lap, throbbing at the possibilities of what might await you.  Your heart pounds in your chest.  You put your hands on the edge of the seat to pull your body  closer and your heart nearly stops as  your inner thigh softly nudges  his hand.  But he doesn’t wake up – or if he does, he doesn’t show it.  Emboldened, you lower yourself a little more until your damp panties arrive at a warm bulge in his robe and your breath hitches.  He’s only somewhat hard,  but obviously packing.  He still doesn’t move.  His chest is rising and falling with his breaths.  You know he’s alive.  Unable to resist, you lower yourself a little more.  You tilt your hips and gently grind yourself against his package.  

What if the nightmare became a wet dream? It’s always turned you on, at least a little, but especially lately.  It’s been harder and harder to separate arousal from fear.  You’ve wondered if it was a sexual thing for him, the way he pursues you.  Stabbing is penetrative after all.  Does the thought of killing you turn him on? Would it turn him on to wake up to you straddling him?  After all, he’s only a man.  Why not, you think.  This could be your best chance to find out.  This might be the most power you’ll ever have in the situation.  You’re turned on thinking about it.  If you’re mere seconds from potential death, you have nothing to lose.  Plus you're curious what's under all this, and it's too risky to lift up his mask.

Fuck it feels good, and the fact that it’s Ghostface, the one who’s been stalking you, killing your friends, trying to kill you - that gives you such a rush.  The tables have turned.  You’re on top of him now.  You look around for his knife and it’s landed on the floorboard along with his voice changer.  You reach down to grab it then quickly stab it into the back of the driver’s seat at an angle so you can grab it if you need to but he won’t know where it is.  Then you return your crotch to his and a bolt of arousal slices through you when his hard package swells against you.  Holy shit he's hung. You slowly roll your hips against him, grinding into him, trying not to be too aggressive, but it’s hard to control yourself. 

-

His breathing changes and your heart jumps to your throat. You wonder, Is Ghostface seduceable? It might be your best shot if you're already getting his dick wet when he wakes up.  But there's always the chance he reacts violently, and now that you're up against him, it's clear you'd be no match for his strength.

Then you have a thought.  You carefully lift his gloved hand, and he doesn’t react.  You lift the dead weight of his heavy arm all the way above his mask, and he still just sits there, breathing.  You pin both his hands above his head, between the metal pegs of the headrest. His hands are large and the two of them together barely fit through the gap.  Then you slam down the headrest, pinning him there by his wrists.

His mask moves.  He seems to look at you.  Then a soft, low sigh.  You lower your crotch again and he’s harder.  You rub yourself against him slowly with your hands braced on the seat and have to stifle a moan in the shoulder of your dress as you grind against him and his cock swells even harder.  A soft groan muffled by his mask makes you wetter.  

You’re going to have to have him.  This is your chance and you can’t resist it.  Your inner thigh muscles begin to fatigue as you push yourself off his lap to hover again.  You lift up his robe, exposing PJ pants. Strange and not at all imposing, but convenient.  You arrange the robe behind his raging erection, then take a deep breath and pull down his waistband.  His stiff member stands at attention. You cover it with your warmth before the cool air wakes him up. A stab of desire shoots through your core as your wet panties meet his hard cock.  You rub yourself against him and your clit throbs.  Your core aches to be filled. 

You pull your panties to the side and nestle the swollen head of his cock at your entrance.  Then you sink down and fail to suppress your gasp at the stretch.  He moans but doesn’t move.  Your body makes way for him as you slide down and sheathe him entirely with your cunt.  His cock is nice and thick, it makes you feel so full.  It’s crazy this cock has been under the robe the entire time.  You wonder if you could just fuck from now on.  If he’d agree not to kill you - that is, if the threat of it doesn't turn him on.

You rise up, then sink down on him again, his size making you grateful for your ample wetness.  You lift and lower yourself and roll your hips into him. You try not to breathe too heavily as you feel it building in your lower belly.  You start to ride him less restrained, unable to resist fucking yourself on his nice, hard cock.  

-

His mask begins to move as though confused, and he grunts as he tugs at his arms,  unable to free them from the headrest.  He’s groggy and weak.  You’re not going to stop. You're too close to coming.  You greedily keep filling yourself to the brim with him.

His mask looks right at you. “Always wanted this cock,” ghostface says weakly, making your heart race.  “Knew it.”  Then it echoes from the voice changer on the floorboard.  Always wanted this cock.  Knew it.   He tugs at his hands more violently, then gives up.  

“Nasty girl,” he says, voice getting stronger.  Nasty Girl. 

He thrusts his hips up powerfully and you moan uninhibited. He thrashes his arms and stabs upward with his cock, bouncing you on his lap with the power of his hips.  Your whole body tingles and tenses, then you bite your own arm as your walls clamp down around him.  You come on his dick, then pull yourself off and he groans in frustration but has no way of getting you back.  

You open the car door and you’re torn about whether to make him come or leave him with blue balls.  You decide to jerk him off as a power move.  You kneel into the open door frame of the car.  You wrap your hand around his girth and fuck his fist.  “All ya had to do was ask,” he says.  All you had to do was ask.  You grab the voice changer and throw it down the street.  Now he's nothing but a man with his dick in your hand.

“Woulda given you every inch," he says. Maybe every inch of his blade.  He nods down to his crotch. "Now you know." His voice is coming back to full strength, smooth and low. It's a voice you can't quite place.

You know you should stab him while you have him tied down, but you're thinking with the wrong head now, unable to bear the thought of this cock going to waste. You slow your hand way down and edge him mercilessly.  His big, stiff cock twitches in your hand and you can tell he's dying for more.

You take your phone out of your bra and take a short video of him trying not to whimper, dick sprouting out of his unimposing pajama pants.  Then you finish him off and take a dick pic selfie with cum all over his robe.  You take the knife out of the back of the seat and leave him stuck in the car.

-

Thank you so much for reading and engaging. Even if you're reading this way later I would love to know your thoughts in a comment! Knowing what you liked helps me write more. 🖤🖤

[ccsainzleclerc5516]

Stay With Me

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader

Warnings: none

a/n: sequel to Try Me; in this one Carlos' appendix and Lando's crash happened at the same time

"Guys, don't let him fool you. He was horrible to me when we were kids" You joked taking a sip of your beer.

"That's one big fat lie you just said" Carlos defends himself.

"I'm sorry y/n, but I just can't believe that, he's so protective of you, you know just like an older brother should be" Kika commented on your accusations.

"Well he sure wasn't like that when we were little. One time he slammed me so hard against the door that I almost broke my hip! I was bleeding!" You say making everybody's jaws drop and listen carefully to what was coming next.

"Slammed you..I didn't slam you, I pushed you a little and then you threw yourself against the door just to make me look bad" Carlos rolled his eyes at you as you mockingly mimicked his words.

"You scarred me for life! Literally! I still have a scar from the cut!"

"What cut?" Lando asks coming back from the toilet and taking a seat between you and Charles.

"We were just talking about how Carlos was violent towards me when we were kids..so much that I have a visible scar because of him!" You explain.

"Oh the one on your right hip?" Lando blurts out and at that moment everyone falls silent staring at the two of you.

It was a calm relaxing night. Kika, Pierre, Charles, Carlos, Lando and you were hanging out on a yacht. You were drinking a little, talking, laughing, the music was playing in the background and you were all enjoying a race free weekend.

Somehow you got on the topic of your and Carlos's childhood so you decided to tell them some interesting stories. Lando didn't know about the story you just told them, but of course he saw the scar on your hip the first time he saw you naked. He traced it with the tips of his fingers and even kissed it before going down on you multiple times..

"How would you know that she has a scar on her right hip?" Carlos asks furrowing his eyebrows at him. Your breath caught and your heart rate quickened. No one said a word waiting with wide eyes for one of you to give an explanation.

"I-I.." Lando stammered glancing at you. Both of you were so caught off guard that you didn't know with what lie to come up with. You kinda knew there was no going back from this now. There was no point in lying actually because none of them were stupid. Everybody knew how he must've found out, but still, you couldn't believe your brother was going to find out this way about you two.

"Are you sleeping with my sister?" Carlos growls angrily clenching his hands.

"Carlos, calm down okay? I can explain-" Lando tries, but is soon cut off by Carlos getting up from his seat and gripping the collar of Lando's shirt.

From a pleasant and relaxing evening, things quickly got out of hand. Kika and you both let out a scream as Carlos pounced at Lando and Charles and Pierre quickly intervened pulling Carlos away.

"Carlos, stop!" You shout your chest quickly rising up and down as you stood in front of Lando who put his hands on your shoulders to calm you down because he could feel how scared you were.

"What are you doing?! Get your hands off her!" But Carlos was seeing red. He was so angry that one of his friends disobeyed his rule about staying away from his little sister.

"Stop it right now! Yes, Lando and I have been seeing each other for quite some time now and there's nothing you can do about it!" You declare confidently, but quickly blinking to stop the tears from rolling down your cheeks. You were disappointed and embarrassed with the way he overreacted. He acted as if Lando was a drg dealer or something not his friend. You always knew all Carlos wanted was to protect you and your feelings, but this was completely unnecessary.

"Estas loca o que?!" Carlos snaps at you. "There's no way I'm gonna approve of that!" Are you crazy or what?

"I don't care! You don't get to tell me what to do with my life! Stop treating me like a child! I don't need you to protect me!" You bark back frustration bursting out of you. "Besides, Lando is your friend! What is wrong with you to act like this?"

"Baby, calm down, please.." Lando mumbles quietly, but loud enough that Carlos hears him too.

"This..this is the last time you see her. I don't ever want you around her ever again."

But of course it wasn't like that. You weren't even thinking about breaking things off with him. You two cared about each other way too much to let it all go to waste. Although you agreed to let the situation settle down a bit so you didn't see each other for 2 weeks, until the next grand prix in Las Vegas.

You missed him. You weren't used to not seeing him for more than 3-4 days, and now it's been more than 10 days since you last saw each other. You missed his touch, you missed his kisses, his warm hugs that always made everything bad go away. And he missed you too, even more than he thought he would. He realized in that relatively short period of time that he doesn't want to be without you anymore. He also realized that, to him, nothing will ever make sense if you're not there.

You took the opportunity and went with Carlos to Las Vegas to be as close to Lando as possible even though Carlos never let you out of his sight. Since Carlos got his appendix removed two days before the grand prix, he wasn't able to race so you two were following the race from the Ferrari garage.

You were feeling kinda strange that day. You couldn't explain it, but your gut feeling was telling you that something was just off that day.

You had a great need to go to Lando before the start of the race and tell him how much you miss him and how much you are in love with him. But since you didn't want to cause problems with your brother who came out of the operating room two days ago and was still in pain, you decided to keep everything you desperately wanted to say to yourself.

Everything about your gut feeling became clear as a day when while following the race you saw a McLaren car snap out of control and heavily crash on the third lap of the race.

Your heart dropped and your legs went numb looking at the screen before you.

"No.." You whisper to yourself putting your hands over your mouth and turning to your brother who went pale. "Is-is that Lando?" You ask, your voice breaks as Carlos pulls you to him and wraps his arms around you.

"Shh, he's going to be fine, okay? Everything's going to be alright." Carlos eyes were stuck on the screen as he was comforting you rubbing your back and you cried into his chest.

All the worst possible scenarios went through your head at that moment. The very fact that you could lose him scared the life out of you and you didn't even get to call him yours yet. You couldn't bear it.

"I need to see him. I want to be by his side." You said and Carlos just nodded. All the anger and rage quickly evaporated from him when he saw his best friend crash.

When Lando was taken for precautionary checks in the University Medical Center, you were in his driver's room pacing back and forth waiting for him or any kind of information about him. And then finally, after what seemed like years later, there he was entering the room after being told that you were there waiting for him.

"Lando.." You stopped in tracks at the sight of him in front of you before running into his arms. "You scared me so much you don't even know.." You said leaving gentle kisses over his cheeks, jaw and lips.

"I'm here, baby, it's okay" He said burying his face into the crook of your neck inhaling your scent as his arms tightened around you.

"I missed you, I missed you so much.." You say sobbing.

"I missed you too. I couldn't concentrate on anything, I just kept thinking about you the whole time" He admits looking deep into your eyes wiping your tears away with his thumbs. "Will you stay with me tonight?"

He didn't even have to ask. There was no force that would separate you from him anymore. From now on it was two of you together through everything and anything.

"I'll stay with you forever, baby" You smile softly as he leans his forehead against yours.

"I'll hold you to that"

[mrskokushibo]

Forgiveness

Kokushibo x fem!reader

Sequel to Beg!

Warnings: Sex, Smut, MDNI, NSFW, 18+

Summary: You were dealt penance for you have sinned. Now, Kokushibo offers you his mercy: aftercare, sleep, food, and a relaxing, hot bath. But is this really all you need? This is part 2 of BEG !

Masterlist

You were tucked away in bed, your body still aching from the events of last night. With eyes slowly opening, still dimmed after a deep sleep, gradually adjusting to the candle-lit room, you could barely make out what was in front of you, but after a few moments, the sight stirred your insides... Because in your clear line of sight was your lover.

Kokushibo was seated on his favourite armchair in the corner of the room next to the large futon you both shared. The chair was a big, European-style, heavily adorned piece, big enough for two, he jokingly called it his throne. And it might just as well have been exactly that, the countless times you were kneeling in front of him, worshipping his manhood.

He was lounging leisurely, wearing only a thin purple yukata that showed off more than it covered, making him look …. delicious to your starved senses. His muscular legs spread, chest partly bared, and his hair down. As always on his days off, he was reading, and he absolutely loved to immerse himself in a captivating story. Six eyes fixated on the text; he kept on sipping a dark red liquid out of a crystal glass. Wine, you presumed. He was a bit of a wine snob.

You loved his chamber, dark walls with tapestries, soft Persian rugs covering the tatami, chandeliers, and bookshelves, rows, and rows of bookshelves. Decorative cushions, soft down-filled quilts, and velvet blankets were all over the large bed.

The quiet sounds of you waking up must have registered with his heightened senses because he lifted his eyes to meet yours. Slowly putting down his book while still holding on to the glass, he leaned back in the armchair. His gaze studying you, lips twitching with the quickest and faintest of smiles. It looked like it was a struggle for him to remain serious. He took a sip of the wine and finally spoke.

‘You slept for a very long time. I assume you must be hungry.’

You nodded slowly in reply. He must have used the telepathic communication to call on a servant as within minutes one of them entered the chamber carrying a tray. With a nod of his head, Kokushibo pointed her in your direction. The servant put the tray on the bedside table while helping you sit down against the large pillows. You were sore… The tray had small fold-out legs that made it into a tray table perfect for eating in bed.  

While you were eating, he concentrated back on his reading and wine. Every now and then you were glancing his way, admiring the noble profile of his face. Oh, you were so horny. Despite the violent punishment you suffered last night, without reaching an orgasm of your own, your insides were almost literally on fire, wetness making you rub your thighs involuntarily. There was not much for you to resort to, but remain in this state until he allowed you near him again.

Once you were done with your meal, you put the tray aside and adjusted yourself down on the pillows. This action caught his attention.

‘I think a bath will do you good, don’t you think?’.

You nodded again, sheepishly. On the way to the bathroom, he walked past you and around the bed, still carrying his wine glass. He was so tall and fit; you were close to drooling. Very soon the sound of water pouring out of a tap was reaching the chamber. It always took ages to fill that tub as it was almost the size of a small pool. The sound of water was soothing and made you drift off into a short nap. Finally, the pouring of water stopped and a moment later you were woken up by Koku standing next to you.

‘Hmmm, you know, I am afraid you will have trouble walking for a day or two’.

His voice deep and soft now, was it compassion you could sense? With that, he buried his arms in the soft mattress under you and lifted you off the bed as if you weighed nothing. You rested your head on his chest and into his thick mane. This was heaven, you could stay like this forever.

Well in the bathroom, he placed you seated on the edge of the tub and gently helped you remove your yukata. You were too aroused and your thoughts too scattered to even register what was happening. Right now, you were trying to take in what he has prepared for you in the bathroom.

The whole place was lit with chandeliers, the smell of precious oils permeating the air and there was a large pillow next to where you were meant to rest your head on the side of the bathtub. Once again, he lifted you up and placed you in the warm, fragrant water, gently placing your head on the pillow. The sensation of the warmth engulfing every crevice of your body, refocused you on the needy feeling between your legs.

‘Make sure to relax now. I put some oils in the water that will help you regenerate faster.’

He was just about to leave when you decided you had enough of waiting. You reached out and grabbed his forearm and looked into the six eyes pleadingly.

‘Can you stay with me?’

He tilted his head slightly and scrunched his lips in a playful grin.

‘Are you sure you can handle, hmmm, sex when you are this battered?’

Your eyes widened at the shameless mention of what he knew was on your mind…

‘Yes, I am sure’ you whispered; your voice almost breaking.

Without taking his eyes off you, he slid out of his barely covering clothes and stepped into the tub. He sat down next to you and wrapped his arm behind your neck until your head rested on his large biceps. With his free hand, he started tracing your neck, up to your jawline, your ears, your eyes now closed in pleasure, then your cheek and the line of your brows. His delicate actions were sending small electric shocks of pleasure.

Your hand drifted towards his groin, his cock hard and large, you started stroking it gently moving on to grabbing hold of it and pumping up and down the entire length. His girth was huge and your small hand could not grab hold of it fully, so you were pumping in a snaking movement, trying to touch every part of his now twitching cock.

The action made him release a quiet sigh and lean over you and kiss your lips gently. He slowly but decisively pried your mouth open with his hungry tongue and the two of you entwined in a wet, passionate kiss, tongues caressing each other, that lasted for what felt like an eternity, his long fingers continuing to touch your face and hair.

Eventually, his hand started moving down your neck and onto one of your breasts. His large hand cupped the soft mound and started kneading it and thus sending even more pleasure impulses down to your sex. Suddenly, he pinched your nipple and persisted with this until you started arching your body as the wave of intense arousal and pleasure was hitting you senseless. It was lucky you were in water, because you were sopping wet. Your juices were literally running out of you now as you were slowly losing all control of yourself. You were moaning like a whore and your hand on his cock was gripping tighter for every wave of pleasure he was gifting you.

‘I want you inside me’ you moaned.

Without a word he lifted you off where you were sitting and placed you in his lap, his cock sliding in you causing you to cling on to him tight. He grabbed you under your ass cheeks and started bouncing you on him. The position was making his cock rub its whole length against your g-spot and you were slowly but surely becoming your arousal, your walls clamping around him and your pussy squirting all over the thick member. His tempo was steady and consistent and after a few minutes of this, you reached an orgasm so intense that your scream could be heard well outside of Kokushibo’s chamber.

When you collapsed onto him, he kept on going until his own release filled you up with his warm semen. The two of you stayed in this passionate embrace for a while, exchanging soft caresses and an occasional kiss. After a while, he pulled his head away from you and looking you straight in the eye and with a mischievous smile, said:

‘I hope you feel better now, my love.’

Divider by @cafekitsune

Tagging: @doumadono @cursetopia2 @crescentmoontsuki @muzansfangs @horror4themasses

[pretzel-box]

hello! do you perhaps do smut things? If so! Perhaps sebastian and his husband with some smut? I know hes married to..zerum but her toxicity in the servers been enough for me!!

if you dont do smut or dont want to do this PLSS sebastian comforting an anxious (male plspls) reader? Tysm!! You rock and i love ur feed!!

The memories of the drowning

words: 1k

status: barely proof-read

tags: male!reader, slightly sequel to Suffocated , married established relationship, mention of anxiety and panic & comfort in the end

author note: I'm probably one of the people that currently hate on the devs for their behaviour, which makes me write x reader stories in first place. Zerum isn't included in the game, which means she can't be married in canon to Sebastian. She's a real person, not a pressure character. So congrats, y'all can marry our beloved merchant in your own headcanons! ♡

Every time you close your eyes, the events of the past replay in the depths of your mind, vivid and unrelenting, replacing your dreams with painfully realistic memories. The horrors you faced in the Hadal Blackside refuse to fade, instead etching themselves deeper into your consciousness with every passing night.

The different screams echo endlessly in your ears, a cacophony of terror that leaves an uncomfortable ringing, dulling your senses. Your body, conditioned by the countless encounters with unspeakable horrors, twitches involuntarily at the memory of how the floors and walls shook violently with every terrible angler attack. The sensation of those tremors, the sickening anticipation of what was to come, still lingers in your muscles, a reminder that survival was never guaranteed.

At this point, you can't lie to yourself anymore. The time spent in the depths of the Hadal Blackside has mentally scarred you, leaving wounds that may never fully heal. The darkness of the ocean wasn't just physical; it had seeped into your mind, haunting you in the night when your body relaxes from the survival modus only to switch back into pure panic.

Sometimes, the weight of it all comes crashing down on you in the dead of night, overwhelming you with the sudden, terrifying realization that you are trapped in a facility full of death traps, thousands of feet below the surface. The oppressive pressure of the ocean above feels like it's bearing down on you even now, crushing you under its immense, suffocating weight. The knowledge that you are surrounded by darkness and danger, with no escape, no reprieve, gnaws at the edges of your sanity with each passing second, making the experience worse.

Your eyes rip themselves open as your whole body starts to tremble uncontrollably. Cold sweat drenches your skin, making the sheets cling to you like the tentacles that once threatened to drag you to your doom. Your hand clings to your shirt, grabbing it tightly as if the fabric could anchor you to reality, grounding you in the present and warding off the terror of your memories.

The breath hitches, coming in shallow, rapid gasps that only feed the growing panic. The ringing in your ears intensifies, drowning out any attempt to calm yourself, until it feels like your head might split open from the noise. Desperate to silence it, you press both hands over your ears, squeezing your eyes shut in a futile attempt to block out the memories, the sounds, the overwhelming fear that consumes you.

But even with your eyes closed, the darkness offers no comfort. Instead, it brings the images flooding back, the twisted, writhing forms of the creatures you barely escaped, the cold, uncaring walls of the underwater facility, the endless corridors that seemed to close in around you with each step.

The faint hint of fluorescent blue hovered in the corner of your eyes, casting a soft, eerie glow across the dimly lit room. It was a color that had once sent chills down your spine, a reminder of all the deaths you had experienced. But now, it had become a familiar presence, a sign that you were not alone.

Sebastian had stirred beside you, waking from his own troubled nap. Without a word, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close against his chest. The gesture was silent, but it spoke volumes. He knew the weight of the nightmares that plagued you, the way they clung to your mind. He couldn't lie, he was in a very similar spot, haunted by his own memories of the Hadal Blackside and all the things Urbanshade did to him.

As his arms encircled you, you felt the coldness of his body seep through your clothes, a stark contrast to the warmth of his embrace. Yet, instead of making you shiver, it grounded you, reminding you that you weren't lost in the darkness of your mind. He was here with you, sharing in the burden of those memories.

Sebastian held you tightly, as if trying to shield you from all the monsters that have threatened to pull you under. His other free arm moved gently, fingers threading through your hair in a soothing motion. The rhythmic, repetitive strokes were comforting, helping to slow the rapid pace of your heartbeat and calm the storm raging within you.

He didn't need to say anything. His presence alone was enough, a quiet assurance that you didn't have to face this alone. He understood your fear, your pain, because he had lived it too. The horrors of the deep had scarred you both, but in this moment, you found solace in each others company.

Gradually, the tension in your body began to ease. The panic that had gripped you loosened its hold, replaced by a fragile sense of peace. You closed your eyes, not to shut out the memories, but to focus on the feeling of Sebastians arms around you, his fingers in your hair, the steady rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. His tail moved, wrapping itself around you, and you couldn't help but melt into his touch.

In the silence, you could hear a faint sound. But it was Sebastian’s heartbeat, slow and steady beneath your ear, that anchored you. With him, the memories didn't seem as overwhelming, the darkness not as suffocating. He was your lifeline, pulling you back from the brink.

"You're safe," he finally whispered, his voice barely audible but filled with certainty. "I got you." He leaned down, placed a gentle kiss on the top of your head, and nuzzled into your hair. "I keep you safe, didn't I promise you that in my wedding vow?"

You nodded against his chest, not trusting your voice to respond. His words were simple, but they carried a truth you desperately needed to hear, and you felt blessed to have such a protective husband. For now, it was enough. You were safe, wrapped in his arms, with the knowledge that whatever came next, you wouldn't have to face it alone.

Sebastian continued to hold you close, his touch gentle and reassuring, until the tremors in your body subsided completely. As you drifted off into a more peaceful sleep, the fluorescent blue light dimmed behind your eyelids, leaving you in a quiet, comforting darkness that was no longer filled with terror, but with the warmth of his presence beside you.

[chronicdisasterwrites]

alcohol isn’t for the weak gojo satoru

pairing: gojo satoru x f!reader, geto suguru, shoko ieiri

genre + warnings: -underage alcohol consumption, a lot of swearing, reader slaps gojo around, pining, overall FLUFF!

word count: 3,380 (i was gonna write more but i’m lazy)

authors note: So this is the sequel of my fic “gotta keep these kids on leashes”. The dynamic quartet is back and up to no good yet again :3 There will for sure be a continuation and it just might end up being a series going through their lives. Also, this takes place before Riko and Toji, so basically their teenage days when everything was good and dandy :’)

enjoy this chaos <3

“You absolute, fucking lightweight.”

With tired bones, eyes, soul and mind, Geto’s glare remains steadily fixed on the drunken mess sprawled on the ground before him. Gojo Satoru was a complex human being. The strongest jujutsu sorcerer in the world; the first person in 400 years to possess both Limitless and the Six Eyes, his strength knew no bounds - except when it came to alcohol.

“Suuuguruuu~” Gojo slurred along with several incoherent words mushed in between giggles.

Stuck between a rock and a hard place, Geto leaned his head against his ajar door and shut his eyes, thinking of all the incredibly painful ways by which he could murder and then dispose of his best friend’s wasted body. His anger wasn’t uncalled for, of course. It was a long day for Geto and all he wanted to do after spending an entire day killing one particularly difficult curse followed by a couple extra (albeit easier to defeat) surprise curses was take a nice long shower, go into his dorm and sleep like a corpse. He had a feeling it was too good to be true when he didn’t get 30 calls from Gojo by the time the sun had set and he had stepped into campus. He was even more surprised when he got out of the shower and came back to 0 notifications from the “pain in everyone’s ass” sorcerer. Gojo always knew when Geto had missions, and more so he would always know when Geto would be gone for the entire day. On days such as this one, he would usually go and bother literally anyone else he could find around him; when desperate, Yaga, but that would never end well for him, so that would only be reserved for very special occasions.

“Satoru, just why…” Geto sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and wondering what he did to deserve this torture.

“I had soooo much fun t’dayyy,” Gojo slurs and laughs much too loudly considering the time.

“Les go out, the night is youuung like you and me and Mochi and Shoko- but…” He pauses, sits up then looks directly at Geto, suddenly serious. Geto squints, expecting something stupid as per usual.

“...Not like…” Cracks appear on his half-assed poker face and the corners of his eyes crinkle slightly as his lips twitch. “Not like…Yaga AHHAAHA-”

Laughter explodes from his chest as he falls back on the ground, rolling around clutching his stomach as if he just cracked the world’s funniest joke. Geto on the other hand, was not phased. In fact, he was preparing to be violent. Inhaling and then exhaling deeply, Geto stood straighter, thinking of ways he could make this night go his way. A few weeks prior to this moment in the present, Gojo along with his posse played an almost funny practical joke on Geto, which ended up costing him a date with a girl and 10 of his brain cells. Since then, Geto had been pondering day and night on exactly what he could do to get Gojo back. There were a few weaknesses the strongest sorcerer had which Geto knew of. One being, his obvious lack of alcohol tolerance, and two being his stupidly obvious crush on you. (not Shoko, although he definitely finds her hot).

Geto knows all about Gojo’s embarrassing feelings for you but he still has no solid evidence on whether the feelings are reciprocated or not.

Suddenly, his train of thought comes to a stop as his eyes glint with mischief. He grabs Gojo’s arm and starts to drag him along the hallway. Gojo doesn't even bother standing up to walk. Instead he lets his best friend drag him like a sack of potatoes, with no care in the world as to where he might be taking him.

“What the heck?! Suguru?! Where are we goin-”

They stop and Geto aggressively knocks on a door. Freshly painted, different from the rest. Immediately, he drops Gojo’s arm and sprints back to his dorm before Gojo’s little brain could even begin to process what had happened.

“Satoru…what the fuck?”

You rub your eyes and glare at the drunken mess sprawled before your dorm door and rub your eyes again, hoping he’d disappear the next time you look. He doesn’t. And you actually hear a mechanical click in your brain when the idiot starts grinning as if it wasn’t 3am and he didn’t just ruin your perfect slumber. Yet again.

“Mochi!!! You’re here! I missed yo- HEY! OUCH! WHY- STOP HITTIN ME-”

“I SHOULD KILL YOU-” slap

“IDIOT,” slap

“WHY CAN’T YOU EVER LET ME SLEEP IN PEACE?!” slap

You wanted to throttle him. But you figured 3 slaps were enough for now. You honestly felt kind of bad seeing him curled up in a ball on the floor and you worried whether you went too far or not.

“I’m sorry… I just missed you s’all,” His voice was soft, gentle even, and that made you feel even worse. Your shoulders slump and your head drops as an exasperated sigh escapes your mouth.

Why is he like this?

You crouch next to his curled up form and stare at his disheveled silver hair. He doesn’t look at you, in fact his eyes remain closed. His hands cover his ears and he literally looks like a kicked puppy and you feel so awful. You roll your eyes and sigh.

Ugh, damn him.

“Okay. Satoru, I’m sorry for hitting you.”

He doesn’t move.

You pinch your nose bridge and decide to take the high road. He is drunk after all, you think. Reaching out, you run your fingers through his soft hair. His shoulders relax at that and the corner of his mouth quirks up ever so slightly. You stifle a laugh at his childishness and grab his chin, tilting his head to face you. Finally, he opens his eyes and stares at you as a gradual, natural smile slowly takes over his face. You smile back and at the back of your mind, you think how stupid you two must look right now. In the middle of the night, your dorm door wide open, Satoru sprawled on the floor of the hallway, you crouched near his head while the two of you stared at each other like something straight out of Spiderman. Except, you won’t kiss him. That’s never going to happen.

You let go of his chin and flick his nose. He huffs a short laugh, rubbing the spot and attempting to return the favor. You grab his wrist before he could deliver the blow and say, “You still drunk?”

Satoru hums, eyes shiny, “A little?”

He grabs your face and squeezes your cheeks, snorting as you glare at him.

“Y’know… you don’t look as scary with your face like this,” He emphasizes his point with ‘awww’s’ and ‘you’re so cuteee’s’ and you can’t help but laugh at this blatant humiliation. You move his hand away and stand up, holding out your hand and expecting him to take it.

“Alright, c’mon. Get up.”

Satoru groans much too loudly and proceeds to throw his arms down and stretch his legs like a starfish.

“Noooo, just stay w’ meee,” He whines like a petulant child and you smile.

Damn him.

You consider bringing him into your dorm and spending the entire night with him doing nothing. Maybe talking, laughing. But you quickly discard that horrifying thought. He’s Gojo Satoru. Your best friend. Nothing romantic could ever happen between you two because he is Gojo Satoru and you are nobody. He is the one person who could even come close to changing the world. He holds the balance of the universe in the palm of his hands. He is everything, and you hate that. You hate how much he means to you, and you hate how much he has on his shoulders. You hate the fact that you can’t even help him ease those worries. You might be strong, but you’re not nearly as strong as him. He knows it, everyone knows it. So, you ignore these feelings. You bury any semblance of hope, of potential ‘maybe’s’ and ‘what if’s’ and you keep your guard up. After all, he is your best friend and you’re his. That’s it.

But then, why does he keep looking at me like this?

“Mochi?” He mutters, eyes suddenly clear and gaze fixed at you. You hum. He waits a while without saying anything and then sits up cross-legged and holds his hand out. You ponder for a moment and eventually you hold his hand and he attempts to pull himself up with your help. You steady your feet and help him up and… wow, he’s ridiculously tall.

You clear your throat and let go of his hand, to which he makes a little noise of protest. You roll your eyes and put his arm around your shoulder, ushering him towards his dorm, “Alright Satoru, let’s put you to bed.”

He nods his head one too many times and starts to walk with you, slowly but surely. You held onto him as he held onto you, and you walked at his pace. He smelled nothing like he usually did. The pungent odor of sake wafted off him in waves and it almost made you want to throw up. He was dozing off, eyes almost shutting. Those cerulean blues were almost a shiny navy color now. You wonder what made him want to drink so much tonight. So you asked.

“Satoru?”

“Hm?” He looks down at you and musters a tiny smile. You hold his waist a little tighter.

You rephrase the sentence a few times in your head before asking.

“Why’d you drink so much tonight? Is everything okay?”

He stares at you for a while, then purses his lips and tips his head down, exhaling loudly. You know something happened, but you don’t know what it could be. Satoru was always an enigma. He was always an open book, and yet so mysterious at the same time. He always kept a smile on his face and always did the stupidest shit. Yet sometimes, he would change completely. His eyes would look sad and distant, he wouldn’t talk as much, he’d look out the window like some kind of tortured main character in an indie movie. Satoru was never easy to understand. He has his vices.

Finally, he looks at you with hazy eyes and a soft smile. Using the arm slung over your shoulder, he holds you in a headlock and kisses your forehead. You can’t see your face but you can feel just how red it must have become. You struggle to try to get out of the headlock but to no avail. Even when drunk, Satoru was still stronger than you and you hated that with a passion. He laughs and releases you, returning his arm back over your shoulder as he leans against you, basically using you as a crutch to walk.

“Satoru?! What the fuck was that all about?!” You sputter. Angry? Not really, it was nice. You’re more confused and freaked out, and why do you feel drunk when you’re the one who’s completely sober?

“No reason, you’re just cute s’all,” He giggles and ruffles your hair. You glare at his stupid face and he laughs again.

“Plus, I had nothing to do all day. Suguru was gone, you were busy and Shoko was-” He pauses. “Well, wherever she was.”

You sigh and pick up your pace which makes Satoru look like Bambi trying to walk on ice for the first time. He giggles all the way there.

—

Fucking finally…

You open the door to his dorm while dragging Satoru’s half limp body inside.

“Alrighty, now lie down,” You say as you gracefully lay him down (more like unceremoniously drop him) on his bed and take his shoes off. Satoru groans and proceeds to almost slip off the side of the bed. Thankfully, you noticed and pushed him further away and more towards the center of the bed. You leave his clothes alone and stand up straight, turning to leave.

“No, wait,” His hand grabs your wrist, without any force whatsoever and you think you’re going to straight up melt when you turn back around to see him looking up at you with ridiculously childlike eyes it’s not even fair.

“Stay, please.”

Your breath hitches and you know you have to leave. You have to wake up early in the morning and also you are not going to spend a night with Gojo Satoru while he’s drunk. It's not a matter of safety; you know he would die before ever hurting you. It was more a matter of heart.

“Satoru…” You try to wrench your hand free from his grasp.

He lowers his hand and wraps it around your fingers. His voice is quiet as he says, “A lil’ bit. ‘M sorry…”

You quirk an eyebrow in confusion, “For what?”

Your question is met with only snores. You shove him and call his name to which he opens his eyes with a “huh?”.

“What are you sorry for?”

He looks bewildered, “Oh um…”

You wait.

He continues sleepily, “For ruining your sleep.”

You chuckle as his hand slowly falls to the bed and snores fill the emptiness.

“Idiot.”

You pat his head and leave.

—-

Satoru wakes up very cold. And wet. Not in a good way.

“Woah- what the fu-”

“Rise and shine, princess,” Suguru announces with a shit-eating grin on his pretty face. He keeps the empty glass on Satoru’s side table and crosses his arms.

Satoru rubs his drenched face and stares incredulously at his so-called best friend, confusion etching his hungover face, “What the hell was that for?”

Suguru snickers, “It was for ruining my sleep last night.” He sits on Satoru’s bed and crosses his legs, resting his head on his hand, enjoying Satoru’s discomfort.

Satoru groans and puts his pillow on his face. His muffled voice says something Suguru makes out to be, “My head is killing me.”

“Not surprised, you were completely wasted.”

Satoru moves the pillow and glares at Suguru, to which he only receives a grin.

Suguru asks liltingly, “So? What happened last night?”

Satoru gets up and makes his way to his bathroom, the sound of water and teeth brushing resonating around the room. Suguru waits for a reply that doesn't come.

Impatient, he asks again, “Did you get your ass kicked?” Satoru gets out while putting on a new uniform jacket. He glares at Suguru until realization hits.

His eyes widen and he points a finger and exclaims, “You took me to her room?!”

Suguru processed that light bulb moment with wide eyes and burst into a hearty laughter to which Satoru only gaped mouth open and eyes unbelieving.

“You- you didn't remember how you got there but you remembered being there?” More laughter, louder this time.

Satoru scoffs and picks up his sunglasses, “I can't believe you…”

Suguru’s laughter dies down and he receives a slap on the back of his head for his incompetence. He laughs and rubs the site of injury.

As Satoru makes his way out of the dorm, Suguru follows close behind. He asks with genuine curiosity, “Did you confess?”

Nothing.

“Did she confess?”

Silence, except for the birds chirping cheerfully and the metronomic footfalls of the two boys.

Suguru sighs, “Did anything happen?”

Satoru puts on his sunglasses and shoves his hands in his pockets, “Nothing happened, as far as I remember.”

Suguru raises an eyebrow. Satoru rolls his eyes and says in a low voice, “Anyways, I'd remember if anything happened.”

Suguru smiles and ruffles Satoru’s already disheveled hair. He scoffs but laughs when Suguru laughs at his lovesick state of being.

“Forget it, Suguru. It’s never gonna happen,” Satoru mutters dejectedly, kicking a stone. Suguru stays silent.

“Like, she’s so… just- y’know?” His sparkling sapphire eyes glittering with admiration and so much love, Suguru can’t help but smile at his friend’s hopefulness. He continues rambling incoherently, hands waving around like it actually does anything to explain his feelings for her. In reality, nothing Satoru is saying makes any sense. Or more so, it wouldn’t make sense to anyone else. Suguru, on the other hand, understands Satoru. So no words are required.

—-

“He’s such an idiot.”

You sigh and twirl your pen, “Tell me about it…”

Shoko knows all and sees all. She knows all about Gojo’s stupid crush on you and she knows all about your crush on him. She doesn’t approve of it, because she firmly believes you deserve better and Gojo is an immature idiot. But after countless sleepless nights of talking about life and love, she saw just how much you liked him, despite your lackluster denials to her allegations. You were adamant on hiding your feelings, even with Shoko. You don’t know why exactly you lied to her about this. Probably because it seems too out of reach, or maybe because you know she’d disapprove. But you know Shoko loves you with all her heart. She would support any decision you make, no matter how much she hates it. Your happiness is paramount and she will never make you feel less than or stupid for anything you tell her. You just can’t tell her about your crush yet, because it’s just too embarrassing and you can’t deal with Shoko’s side-eye.

Shoko closes the book she was reading staring at, kicks up her feet on the desk and crosses her arms across her chest. You look at her, then look at her neglected textbook and sigh, shifting your attention to your own textbook.

“Y’know you’ll never even pass at the rate at which you’re going…”

She says with a giggle, “Relax, will you? It’s just class tests.”

You muster your best side eye, to which she just snorts. She kicks back her chair and stands up, holding out her hand for you to take. You raise your eyebrows, silently questioning whether she’s serious or not.

“C’mon let’s take a break, we’ve been studying for hours.”

You put down your pen and cross your arms, properly facing her now, “You mean, I’ve been studying for hours.”

She shrugs, “That’s what I said.”

“Ha-ha,” you deadpan.

She actually laughs and tugs your sleeve, “Come onnnn.”

You sigh and hang your head. Shoko takes that as a sign to collect your items and pack them into your backpack and you know you’ve lost. You always lose to her arguments. She’s too quick and too laid back to ever lose an argument. Even when something really serious goes down, Shoko will be the last person to freak out. You can’t even argue with her because she’ll just come up with some random logic that you don’t even know how to counteract. You watch as she packs your stuff and you smile. She looks at you and smiles back, albeit in a confused manner.

“What?”

You shrug still smiling, “Nothin’.”

Shoko mutters a small “okay” and grabs your shoulders, hunching down to your eye-level and staring into your eyes with a kind of scary expression. Shoko has never been serious in her entire life, except for a few times when you made bad decisions.

“Listen to me, and listen well. I love you. I will always be here for you. Even if you and Gojo date and that doesn’t work out, you don’t have to worry about us, ever,” Shoko’s grip on your shoulders was ironclad.

Your eyes widen and face heats up furiously, “W-what? Where is this coming from?!”

“Because I am your best friend, you absolute braindead idiot! I know you. I don’t know why you’re not just coming clean with me but I’m here always, so come to me whenever,” she ends her monologue with a sweeter than sweet smile and stands up to her full height while you were down there stunned, touched and offended all at once.

You get up, put your bag over your shoulder and stare at Shoko concerningly, while she just grins.

What the actual fuck was that?

“Hey, let’s go get some food, I’m starving.”

You glare at her as she loops her arms through yours, “You’re paying.”

Shoko laughs, “No way. Gojo’s paying.”

taglist: @thepup356, @porridgesblog, @stray-npc, @daisy-the-quake, @reignsaway, @ainetx, @icarusignite, @mariapierce789

[theidiotwhowritesthings]

I Love You, Cyar'ika

Dark!Din Djarin x Jedi!Female Reader

Warnings: corruption arc, violent murder but not described in depth, possessive behavior, obsession, loss and anxiety, light smut, manhandling of the reader by Din

Word Count: 4,500

Summary: Din Djarin is a man who lost everything. His home, his son, his Creed. But at the end of the day, he still had you. He still had you, and he was determined to keep you. Sequel to 'Ni Ceta, Cyar'ika'

.

"i am terrified by this dark thing that sleeps in me."

.

It wasn’t until the second half of your first hour trapped that you realized the chain around your ankle wasn’t just metal. It was beskar. The links branched together were long enough to allow you to walk to the neighboring bathroom, but not long enough to reach the door out. The horror of your situation was truly settling into your very soul. Din had locked you away. Din. The man you loved. And the worst part, as if any of this could possibly be worse, was the fact that he only knew you had tried to run away hours ago.

When exactly did he have this chain made?

You spent the rest of your morning trying to rip the chain out of the wall where it was connected to no avail, and when that didn’t work you somehow tried to pull your ankle out of the clasp. It was impossible. The clasp was just tight enough on your skin that you would not be slipping it unless you started considering something much more dramatic, but you couldn’t bring yourself to stop. You tugged and screamed until your ankle was discolored and your throat was raw.

Then you broke. Quite some time ago, before your extensive Jedi training, you had quite the temper. It took years for you to get a handle on controlling it, but these last few months the frustration and worry had slowly whittled down your very being. So, for the first time in a very long time, you threw a tantrum. You knocked over the nightstand by your bed, hurling every single item you could reach, and destroyed everything that was in your path. 

When you were spent, exhausted from the emotional and physical turmoil, you slumped against the wall panting for breath. Your legs splayed out in front of you so you could glare at the beskar that wrapped around your ankle. You felt so pathetic and vulnerable. It didn’t help that you only wore your undergarments and one of Din’s shirts. It had been what you fell asleep in last night while curled up to the man who chained you to a wall.

The bedroom door opened and Din froze in the doorway. You watched his eyes scan the room in shock before they landed on you. He let out a breath of disbelief, “Cyar’ika.”

“I don’t think I want you to call me that right now.” You said.

Din’s shoulders slumped and he had the audacity to look hurt at your words. As if he hadn’t chained you to a fucking wall. He stepped into the room and shrugged out of his robe⏤ tossing it onto the bed as he neared. Din’s eyes landed on your ankle and his eyes widened. “Me’bana!?” He knelt down to take hold of your ankle, but you tried to pull your legs in to avoid his touch. Din, refusing your refusal, grabbed you by the calf and dragged you toward him.

“Get off!” You barked and kicked out at him. 

Din pinned you to the floor using his weight to keep your hips down and a hand to pin your wrists above your head. The emotion on his face as he stared down at you was not one of anger or even frustration. It was desperate. “Stop. You’re going to hurt yourself. Dank farrik, you already have. Don’t make it worse.”

“You think I care?” You spat your words at him, squirming. “I don’t! I’ll do what I have to if it means⏤”

Din’s other hand snapped up to grab you by the jaw. His fingers pressed into your cheek, not painful but firm, and his face darkened. Anger finally seeped into his features. “I said, stop. I know you’re upset, I know you’re angry with me, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to let you hurt yourself.” You sucked in a sharp breath when he leaned down to rest his forehead against yours. Hand still on your jaw. Din’s eyes closed as he spoke. “You are going to sit still while I take care of you. Understand? This is not up for debate, cyar’ika.”

You didn’t respond. Refused to. Din let out a soft sigh before releasing your jaw and wrists. He sat up and pulled his weight off of you. Slowly, you sat up and chose to just sit there. He pulled his gloves off, tossing them aside in the mess you had already made of the room, and with a tender touch he pulled your leg into his lap. Din’s warm fingers shifted the beskar so he could peer at the skin beneath it. He hissed at the sight of your already forming bruises⏤ the discoloration would be worse tomorrow.

“Cyar’ika⏤”

“I said don’t call me that.”

Din shook his head. “Why would you do this to yourself?”

“Myself?” You scoffed. “You’re the one who put me in chains, Din!”

“To keep you⏤”

“Safe?” You finished for him, but you spat the word bitterly. Din wilted and continued to carefully trace your sore skin. It bothered you that his touch brought you comfort, but that wasn’t something you could just turn off. “When did you have this chain made, Din?” He didn’t reply. “It’s made of beskar. You didn’t just swing out and pick it up. You had it made. When did you⏤”

“Three weeks ago.” Din kept his eyes downcast, glued to your ankle. You took in a sharp breath. It would have been less painful, less shocking, if Din had just reached out and slapped you. Three weeks ago? How long did he have this planned? His warm brown eyes met yours⏤ a gaze you had always been weak to. Your face must have shown your betrayal because Din squeezed your calf softly. “I never planned to use it. I never wanted to use it.”

“But you did.” You mumbled the words out.

Din winced. “I know, cyar’ika. I know. I’m sorry. You will never understand how sorry I am⏤ I will spend the rest of my life trying to remind you. I⏤” He sighed and his thumb traced lazy circles against your skin where it sat. “More than anything though, my love, I need to protect you. I cannot lose you. I wouldn’t survive that.”

“You’re losing me right now, baby.” You shook your head. Tears springing up. “You’re breaking my heart, you’re losing my trust⏤” Din squeezed his eyes shut. Pained and devastated. “How do you think this will end?”

“You will understand. One day.” Din said firmly. He spoke like he was trying to convince himself of this. “Until then, I am just doing what is necessary.” Din rose to find the first aid kit and when he returned you just stared at him. He knelt down once more and wrapped padding around your ankle so the metal wasn’t touching bare skin anymore. When he was satisfied with how it looked, he carefully held your arms and pulled you up to stand. Din cupped your face with his hands, setting a tender kiss on the top of your head before choosing to rest his forehead against yours. “I love you, cyar’ika.”

This wasn’t love, but you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him that.

The only times you were unchained from the wall was when you were with Din. He’d take your hand in his and the two of you would wander down the halls or outside of the castle. Always two Mandalorian guards lingering behind you both. You had one arm looped through Din’s. His thick robe draped over your shoulders once more. 

“Bo thinks offering an olive branch would make us seem weak. I’m inclined to agree with her.” Din thought aloud. Most of these walks were him talking to you about his day. You didn’t offer much more than the occasional hum or a snide comment if he pressed too hard. That’s what two weeks of being chained like an animal could do to you. “We have more power than them. It wouldn’t be too difficult to overtake them.”

You hummed. Din glanced down at you and his arm squeezed around yours. There was hope shining in his eyes as if he was eager to hear you offer any sort of commentary. You focused your gaze forward. “The Din I fell in love with wouldn’t jump head first into a war.” His steps stuttered. “He’d try for peace.”

“Cyar’ika.” Din came to a slow stop and turned to face you. His other hand lifted to rest on yours. It trapped your hand against his forearm. “I am the man you fell in love with. That has not changed.” Your eyes darted down to the darksaber hanging from his belt. Din sighed. “This is still about the saber?”

You shook your head. “It always will be. That damned saber has changed you.”

“It hasn’t⏤”

“It has!” You yanked your arm away from his and took a step back. Anger flaring once more. “I keep telling you. It’s poison.” The energy that surrounded it felt suffocating, but it had only gotten worse these last few days. The possession was still there and now it’s tendrils seemed to be trying to seep out into your very soul. As if it could convince you that it had good intentions. “It’s me or the darksaber, Din.” 

He shook his head and you shoved him once in the chest. He barely stumbled back. The Mandalorian guards leapt forward, hands on their weapons in preparation to take out the threat against their King, but Din threw his arm out to stop them. The glare he leveled in their direction was deadly. They both took sheepish steps away. Din focused back on you and the anger in his eyes dissipated back into despair. “You can’t make me choose.” He sighed. “We’ve talked about this. I need the darksaber to keep you safe.”

“We’re just going to argue in circles forever, aren’t we?” You sighed.

Din stepped closer and caressed your face. He leaned in to capture you in a kiss, but you turned at the last second so his lips pressed against your cheek instead. Since the morning you woke up with a beskar anklet, you hadn’t let Din touch you. The first night he slipped into bed behind you, just to sleep, and you had lost your mind. Now, he slept on the small couch that was pushed against the wall in your living space. He pulled back enough that his lips were no longer touching you, but he didn’t stray far.

“I love you, cyar’ika.”

He truly believed it, but obsession⏤ possession⏤ was not love.

At the month mark, you knew things needed to change. Din was too stubborn to concede. He’d keep you chained to that fucking wall forever. So, you started small. You had to play this smart. It began with little things like thanking him when he brought you food or new gifts. Choosing to participate in conversations when the two of you went on walks around the palace. A lingering touch here and there when you were able, and you never shied away from his own touch.

Still, a sudden change in demeanor would give you away. Din, as blinded as he was by the darksaber, was not an idiot. He’d see through your act in seconds, and the fate of his and your life depended on deceiving him. You had to get off this rock. You had to get to help. After thinking about it long and hard, you decided you needed to get to Skywalker. The other Jedi were your best bet. It was just a matter of getting there.

Oddly, your saving grace came in the form of an attack.

Because Din never kept you fully in the loop of the things happening in Mandalore, you weren’t entirely sure what was happening. Being chained to the wall when the explosions started did not help either. For the first fifteen minutes of the disaster all you could do was stand in place, frozen, while straining to listen. Eventually, the explosions stopped, but it was replaced with yelling and thundering footsteps. Not a good sign. As it got closer and closer you searched the room for a weapon or hiding the place. You wouldn’t fit under the bed and even if you hid in the bathroom there would be a chain lying on the floor leading straight to you.

The yelling came right out the door and you didn’t even have time to register the language or tone before the door itself was kicked open. Pirates. That was your best guess. Three men dressed for a fight stepped into your space. Two humans and one Trandoshan. They spoke a language you didn’t recognize, something from the Outer Rims, but even when addressing you they never swapped to Basic. One of the humans took a step closer, smirking, and you shifted to a ready stance. The last time you had felt so ill prepared for a fight was back when you first began your Jedi training. 

Even on a good day, back before Din spiraled into his current state, you were not good at using the Force. Reading energies was your strength, but healing and telekinesis was never your forte. Now? Being as stressed and buried in negative energy as you were, it was nearly non-existent. Every day you spent around the  darksaber you felt further from the Force for some Maker forsaken reason. The Force you recognized, at least.

The Trandoshan began to rummage through the room scavenging, but the two human men were still approaching you. They laughed and motioned to the chain around your ankle as they spoke to one another. Cautiously, you took a few steps back so the chain’s tension wouldn’t accidentally catch you. When the first man lunged you met him halfway with an uppercut into his throat. It was a blur of muscle memory and desperation from then. You weren’t doing well, you were surviving, but when one of the men got their hands on the chain they were able to pull your legs out from under you. 

You roughly landed on your back with a grunt, but the other man was quick to pin you down. You thrashed and screamed trying to get loose, but the other just piled on. Their voices were grating, their laughs sent chills down your spine, and their touch made you nauseous. It all boiled into an uncontrollable rage that slipped from your body with a roar. Suddenly, both men were blown clear across the room. You sat up, breathing hard, and glanced down at your hands. Had you just…? There was no time to puzzle through the power that just flowed from you because the Trandoshan leapt across the room to tackle and pin you back to the floor. 

He didn’t have a firm grip on you, and you were able to flip over on him. The victory was short lived when he threw his elbow back, crushing your nose, and you cried out in pain before falling back. The other two men had risen once more, but all of you froze at the terrible roar that echoed down the hall and filled the room with a suffocating tension. It called out your name. You recognized that voice. 

In that one moment, a feral pleasure gripped your soul and allowed your anger to roam free. You grinned up at the men, teeth bloody from your broken nose, “You’re fucked.”

Din stalked into the room, seconds later, and he was possessed by his own rage. The darksaber glowed in his hands, as bright as a burning flame, and it cast terrifying shadows across his face which was twisted in hatred⏤ in bloodlust. With the first swing of the saber, the men knew they were not going to bode well and they began to plead, but their words fell on deaf ears. You watched as Din tore them to shreds, a force to be reckoned with, and a sick grin flickered across your features before you could reign it back. Din was leaving the men in literal pieces, brutal in his attack and inflicting the most terror and pain he could manage before taking a life, and you felt a bubbling pleasure building in your chest.

It was only when his warpath was finished, when he deactivated the saber, that your smile fell. The tendrils of pleasure that had seeped into your very soul with watching the love of your life murder on your behalf slipped away. You took in a sharp breath. What the fuck was that? Why the fuck had you⏤ Your hands began to tremble followed quickly by the rest of your body.

“Cyar’ika.” Din gasped and crossed through the carnage to pull you off the ground and into his arms. His panicked words all came out in a rush of Mando’a before he was calm enough to ask once more in Basic. “Are you alright? Did they hurt you?” His gloves wiped away the blood as he examined your nose. “Are you⏤”

“I’m fine.” You replied shakily, but you felt far from it. Physically, there was nothing wrong. Not really. Your nose would heal, the bruises you garnered in the fight would fade. But mentally, spiritually, emotionally… Your eyes drifted down to the darksaber on his belt. What was it doing to you? It took a moment to realize Din was still talking. You shook your head. “What?”

“I said that was the last of them. They came for revenge, but most of the damage was external. Only a few small groups got into the palace.” Din’s hands were petting your hair. Between every word of comfort he’d lean forward and press his lips to your face. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Focus. Focus. Back to the plan. Back to your mission.

“No.” You swallowed roughly. “I need the chain off.” Din didn’t respond. He just stared at you with wide eyes filled with the fear of a man who had nearly lost the person he swore to protect. You lifted your hands to cup his face and you shook your head. “I’m not going anywhere. You’re not losing me. I’m not losing you. You were right.” You pushed the words out and the tears that fell from your eyes were painfully real. You cried for how lost you felt. It was like you were stuck in quicksand and the more you struggled the deeper you were pulled to it’s dark depths. “I was so scared. I couldn’t fight back. Din⏤”

Din didn’t hesitate. He knelt down and pulled a key from the pouch in his belt to unclasp the metal around your ankle. Hearing it clatter to the ground, feeling the weight drop off, had you sucking in a breath of shock and relief. Din slowly rose once more and you found yourself lost in his eyes⏤ those pretty brown eyes that made you forget every single worry you had. The warm brown eyes that brought you comfort in your lowest moments. The loving brown eyes that gazed at you in worship. 

“Stay with me.” You mumbled and cupped his face again.

Din turned his head to press a kiss against your hand. “I’m not going anywhere, cyar’ika.”

Your fingers tightened around him and a shuddering sob left your lips. “Do you love me?” Din looked affronted by the question. His mouth fell open, but you cut him off. “Baby, just listen, if you love me you’ll put the saber away for tonight.” His eyebrows furrowed in confusion and a hiccup left your lips. “Please, baby, just tonight. I just want you. I want only you.”

Din took a slow breath and then took a step out from your grasp. Fear struck you at first, but Din simply crossed the room to his locked chest which sat in the corner. Slowly, he unlatched each piece of his armor and set it carefully into the chest. When he was left with only his flight suit, Din grasped the darksaber and held it in his bare hand for a moment. Finally, he set it into the chest and closed it. The cursed item was just tucked away, out of sight, but it still made a difference. The unrecognizable dark energy that had been plaguing you seemed to disperse and a familiar sensation filled your chest. It was the Force you recognized. For the first time in a month, you felt like you could breathe.

He walked back to where you stood and settled a soft and hesitant hand on the side of your face, “I do love you, cyar’ika. I know this has been difficult and you haven’t been happy.” Din looked heartbroken as he stared down at you. “But you are everything to me.”

This may have started as just a plan to ease him into a lull of security, but that had been forgotten as you stared up at him. For this one second you felt like yourself, and Din felt like himself. A swell of love overwhelmed you and you pushed closer to capture his lips with yours. Din sighed into the kiss, but before you could deepen it he pulled back. “Din?”

“We don’t have to do this, cyar’ika.” Din whispered. “You were just attacked, stressed, and⏤ This⏤ This isn’t… I don’t want you to feel pressured.”

“I don’t.” You shook your head and it was the absolute truth. Right now, Din felt like the man you loved. Maybe it was weak of you to cave, weak of you to seek out his comfort, but you missed him. You craved him. “I want you, and as long as you want me⏤”

Din brought his lips back to yours, his hand cupping the back of your neck, as he softly kissed you. Every minute movement filled with adoration. You wrapped your arms around his neck to draw yourself closer to him. Pulling back to catch a breath, he left a trail of kisses up your jaw to your ear. “Cyar’ika, I always want you.” His hands settled on your hips to bring you flush against him. “I always need you.”

Your hands grew frantic wanting nothing more than to feel his skin against yours. Just like in a fight, you didn’t need to think. Loving him was muscle memory. You peeled the upper half of his flight suit off his body and he took gasping breaths as you broke away from his kiss to caress the scarred skin of his torso. Your nails lightly raked over the skin overlying his ribs as you leaned in to press soft kisses against every scar you could find. Din trembled at your touch, a breathless gasp tearing ragged from his lips. 

His own hands lifted to tilt your face up so he could lean down and start a tender kiss. Every slow, languid motion was one born of love rather than lust. There was an innocence to the brushes of skin against skin, and for this one moment nothing existed but you and Din. Not the poisonous darksaber buried in a chest or the corpses of the men that meant you harm. As Din picked you up and pinned you into the bed, his weight pressing into you, all that mattered was Din Djarin.

“I love you, cyar’ika.” Din murmured into the skin of your neck⏤ his face buried there as his hands roamed your body with a familiarity born of routine. “I love you so much, cyar’ika.”

Your heart felt so full, and you wondered if you were the one confused on the extent of what the word love could mean.

Din laughed and you lightly shoved him in the side.

“It’s not funny. Don’t laugh at me.”

“I’m not laughing at you, cyar’ika.” He replied as you grinned. “I’m laughing with you.”

“Yeah, I’m not laughing, you ass.”

He continued to chuckle and you shook your head before looping your arm back through his and leaning against him. Mandalore had been relatively calm since the attack two weeks ago, and you had never felt closer to Din. What had you been so worried about? The two of you were safe and had one another. That was all that mattered at the end of the day. You had misjudged the darksaber’s energy. That possession was just another form of loyalty. It brought you and Din the strength to protect one another. A bond. That’s all it was.

“My Mand’alor.”

Din’s feet paused, bringing you to a stop as well, and you both turned to face a Mandalorian who now knelt before the both of you. The woman held a hand across her chest in pledge. Din didn’t motion for the woman to rise, but hummed for her to continue. 

“Our allies who have settled on Concordia are requesting aid currently. Raiders have been plaguing them the last few weeks, but now they are beginning to edge in on the main settlement.”

“Concordia has the means to defend itself...” Din replied.

You squeezed his arm and he glanced down at you. You shook your head. “Concordia is not Mandalore, they’re just allies that⏤ like you said⏤ have their own resources.” Nonchalantly, you shrugged. “We have to protect our own. Any aid we offer to them is taken from our own walls. Our city should come first, Din.”

Din lifted your hand to plant a kiss on the back of it. “Could not have said it better myself, cyar’ika.” He motioned for the Mandalorian to be on her way before the two of you continued down the hall. Only a few yards later, Din chuckled. “I have a gift for you.”

“Oh, do you?” You asked with a smirk.

He pulled you to a stop once more “Close your eyes.” 

“Really?”

Din raised an eyebrow at you and you playfully rolled your eyes before closing them and holding your hands out. You heard the sound of shuffling as Din moved. A beat later something warm settled in your palms and you sucked in a sharp breath at the overwhelming flood of emotions that bared down on you. Your eyes opened to first see Din’s excited and loving smile, but then your gaze drifted down to the lightsaber in your open hands. 

“I figure it’s about time you’re reunited.” Din chuckled. It had been nearly two months since it had been taken from you. He leaned in and pressed a kiss to your temple. Your fingers slowly closed around the hilt you had built with love so long ago, and waves of warmth radiated down your arms and into your chest. “I⏤” A different voice called out and Din sighed in irritation. “One moment.”

Din stepped around you to address whoever had called out for him and you just stared and stared at the lightsaber. Possession and obsession was not love. It was not the same as loyalty and protection. You blinked in shock as the clear thoughts cut through the fog you hadn't even realized you were living in. You had been yourself, but for some reason your priorities had changed starkly. Not for some reason. One reason. That fucking saber.

"Hey." Din returned to your side and you heard panic in his voice. Those dark tendrils from the saber surrounded you, but could not sink in. He set his hand on your face and his thumb caressed your cheek. "You're crying."

"I...I'm happy." You lied. "Thank you, Din."

"Of course." Din replied though he looked hesitant to believe you. He leaned in to press a kiss between your eyes. "I love you, cyar'ika."

You loved him, and you almost lost yourself.

But, not again.

[fancyfeathers]

Rain and Dirt (Yandere Rex Lapis/Zhongli x Goddesses!Reader)

Chapter Three, Ghosts of the Past

Sequel to The Moon Will Sing and Time Alone

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Summary: Stories are told of Rex Lapis the God of Contracts and his darling the Goddess of the Moonlight, but what people do not know is the truth of what their relationship really is. People think at Rex Lapis’s death that his wife would be the first to weep, but what if she is the first to smile.

You began your journey to Jueyun Karst with Lumine and Paimon, acting as their guide. As you walked along the road that ran through the Guili Plains and into  Jueyun Karst you looked around at the sky above, it was starting to get dark as you were nearing the abode of the Adepti. You wondered what would have happened if you ended up coming here for the Rite instead of staying in the city, would they be made at you, violent even? No you shook that thought aside, they would never harm you even if your husband wasn’t there to protect you anymore.

No, no, no! You did not need him to protect you, have you forgotten you are a goddess? It is well within your power to protect yourself… but some nights when it gets cold, being held by someone helps. Or the pain of thousands of years gone by, sharing that burden with someone else… but he also gave you a burden-

“(Name), Are you alright? You seem to be drifting off?” The voice of Lumine’s floating companion grabbed your attention and you smiled and nodded in response with a small hum.

“I am alright, it is just….” Your eyes drifted up to the peaks out the mountains approaching in the sky, knowing what you are about to encounter. You sighed as your eyes fell back down to the path you walked on and the ground below. “It has been awhile since I have come here. It feels strange, especially given the circumstances.”

“You mean the death of the Geo Archon, don’t you?”

“I do.”

“You know, Paimon noticed that while most are in shock and crying over Rex Lapis’s death, you remain totally calm, why is that?” Paimon stepped in, poking you with a question.

“I….” The question made you stop in your tracks, why was it so easy for you not to cry? The answer should be easy, because of all the things he has done to you. But did you honestly know that answer? Did you hate him? “…don’t know…”

“Really?”

“Really, honestly for all the people’s praise of him I do not know if I can make myself follow him like they do.” You paused again before forcing a smile and changing the topic. “Well what brings you to Liyue? I doubt it is just the sights if you are willing to do all of this.”

“I’m… I’m looking for my brother. He was taken from me.”

At Lumine’s answer your heart ached for her for you knew her pain, what it is like to lose a sibling. You had no idea where your sister is today, thousands of years later. You can still remember the sound of her voice, the life in her eyes, the joy in her smile.

“I’m so sorry, I understand your pain but it still hurts, does it not?” A look of surprise came across Lumine’s face at your sympathy.

“You understand?”

“I do, a long time ago my sister set out to explore Teyvat and I did not go with her, I have not heard from her or about her since. I would be lying if I said I didn’t regret going with her, I think about it everyday.” You reached down and gave Lumine’s hand a squeeze. “After this I promise you I will help you find your brother, I have all the time in the world.”

“Thank you, that means so much.”

—————————

You were reaching the abode of Mooncarver and you knew that full well that he would call out your true nature on the spot so as you got closer you acted like you needed a break but urged Lumine and Paimon to go on ahead.

“Are you sure, (Name)?” Paimon questioned, to which you smiled and nodded.

“Yes, yes, I will find you both in a bit, I just need to rest my feet. I am afraid that I am not so used to walking such long distances.”

“Alright if you say so.”

You watched two walk off as you sat against a tree for a bit of shade so that you were covered from the sun’s heat. You ran your fingers through the grass and hummed, closing your eyes. You have been here before, not just in Jueyun Karst but this exact spot. When was the question? 

You closed your eyes to think and you must have fallen asleep because you felt a hand brushing the hair out of your face stirring you awake. You opened your eyes and seeing the person there made you gasp.

“Menogias?”

There was a laugh and nod from the Yaksha, one who you thought to be dead for so many centuries. “Hello my Lady.”

“Why- wait- how are you here?” You asked, springing to sit up. You pressed your back against the tree, sitting there next to your old friend, for lack of a better term.

“What do you mean, I am supposed to be with you today.” He sighs and shakes his head, his fingers coming to rub his temples. “My Lady, did you forget? Today your husband is off at a meeting with an Adeptus in Chenyu Vale. I was placed to guard you until his return.”

Ah yes, how could you have forgotten? Morax had even told you the night before. He would be gone all day and perhaps a bit of tomorrow as well. Really you must get better at remembering these things.

“Apologies, it just feels like my mind is off these days.” You say curling your legs inward towards your chest.

“Off? May I ask how so?”

“I do not know how exactly to describe it, almost as if I have been tricked into something.”

“My Lady, it’s best if you don’t dwell on these things for too long, it would be bad for your health.” Menogias answered swiftly, almost to cut off your idea. “Your husband would not be very pleased with that.”

Your husband…

Rex Lapis…

Morax…

Zhongli…

All the same person…

All caused the same suffering…

“Menogias, can I ask you something…”

There was no response…

“Menogias?”

Again, no response?”

“Menog-“

You were cut off by the scream that ripped from your throat as you turned your head to look at the Yaksha, only to see him dead. His skin almost looked shredded and he was bleeding profusely out of a wound in his stomach. 

You snapped awake, sweating and gasping for air from the dream. It was just a dream, but one that came from your memory to an extent. Menogias did watch over you some days when your husband was away, but so did the other Yaksha. Beyond that the rest of the dream weee just the ghosts of your past. Honestly out if all the Adepti, you hated Menogias the least, he was kind to you but still did nothing to dissuade your husband’s possessive tendencies.

As you rubbed your eyes in an attetonwak yourself up from that horrid nightmare you heard voices, shouting, and approaching you. Before you can even turn your head you are seized up by the forearms and find yourself face to face with soldiers of the Millelith.

“You are under arrest as a suspect in the assassination of Rex Lapis.”

Oh dear…

 —————————

You were dragged along by a Millelith soldier, deeper into Jueyun Karst to find Lumine and Paimon, the other suspects. You panicked as you got closer and closer to Moon Carver’s abode, and you tried excuses like you would rather be tamed back to the harbor so you could be proven innocent already,mor that you had no idea who they were talking about when the described Lumine and Paimon, but none of it worked. 

Then your heart sank the moment you turned on the path and your eyes laid on not only Lumine and Paimon, but the mighty and illuminated Adeptus, Moon Carver. His deer form was as proud and strong as ever and no doubt he retained that strength to carry that pride.

“It’s the assassin, they dare-“

The moment the soldier spoke and caught the attention of Moon Carver you knew all was over. The Adeptus’ eyes went from the soldier speaking, to the one who was dragging you along, then lastly to you. The moment you made eye contact with him, his eyes lit up in pure and untamed rage. He raised his front hooves up and stopped them on the ground, and the sound that echoed from it rang in your ears and even was enough to shake a few stones off of the mountain peaks.

“YOU DARE TOUCH HER!? YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO EVEN LAY YOUR EYES ON HER!”

The Millelith soldiers look back and forth at one another in pure confusion, meanwhile you just hang your head low and wait for this all to be over.

“Mighty Moon Carver we-“

“One does not care for your excuses, unhand her at once!” At the demand of the Adeptus the Millelith did not care to stay much longer after that. The grasp of your arm slipped away as the soldiers backed up away from Moon Carver and once they were far enough they turned on their heel and started running. You watched them run before turning to face Moon Carver and your eyes landed on the confused Lumine and Paimon as the Adeptus approached you. Slowly Moon Carver lowered his head before you in a bow before rising, his eyes meeting your own. “My Lady.”

“My Lady? What is this crazy deer on about, (Name)?” Paimon questioned, looking at you who were probably bright red in your embarrassment. Before Lumine can add something, Moon Carver gazed down at the floating Paimon, rage in his eye, not as much as with the soldiers, but still visible.

“You dare to call her by her name, you have no right-“

“Moon Carver!” You shouted, cutting the deer off. He looked almost ashamed for a moment at the sound of you raising your voice. “Please, I let them, they are my friends.”

“Very well.” He nodded towards you before facing Lumine and Paimon. “One humbly apologizes for such abrasiveness towards my Lady’s companions.”

“Lady? What’s going on?” Lumine asked, looking at you and you sighed.

“Really it is nothing important-“

“Nothing important?” Moon Carver scoffed at your statement, as if now he was scolding you. “Is being the bride of Rex Lapis not important? One thinks not.”

“Bride of- wait.” You watched as Paimon slowly clicked together the pieces in her head and she let out a loud and rather dramatic gasp when it clicked. “You’re the wife of the Geo Archon, you’re the goddess that Childe told us about. That’s why you knew so much about Liyue.”

“That is… true.” You sighed and stepped forward, not forcing a smile like you did before. Now you wore your true emotions, a face that suffered for thousands of years. “Allow me to properly introduce myself, while I still am (Name), I am the goddess of moonlight and rain and…” you felt yourself choke on your words for a moment, but you quickly swallowed the lump in your throat. “…and the wife of Rex Lapis, the Geo Archon.”

[babygorewhore]

Daddy Issues part two

You deliver your next payment to Rafe Cameron after your agreement to save your dad’s job. But you start to develop more than an arrangement emotions. And Rafe isn’t exactly the commitment type. Part one

Hi!!! I hope you enjoy part two!! I’m so nervous for sequels lol. But this is filth guys. Warnings! Oral! Fem and male recieving. Degrading! Unprotected sex! Spitting! Some angst but good ending! Abusive dad! Violence! Probably not in order but oh well. Barely proofread. Okay anyway enjoy. Thank you to dolly for beta reading!!!!

It was time for your next payment.

Rafe had instructed you to wear your favorite outfit, one that no one had ever really seen before. He wanted to be special and he wouldn’t tell you what he assigned you to do once you arrived at his penthouse.

He told you the key code as you typed it in and the door unlocked. Your heels clicked against his floor as you peeked and saw him leaning against the wall. He looked even hotter with his white half unbuttoned shirt and dress pants. His hair was starting to fall from being slicked back and he gave you an appreciative smirk.

“You look sexy, baby girl. Come here.” He beckoned with a finger and you quickly obeyed.

Your dad had been out of jail for three days and was mostly gone making up his lost hours at work. The drunk bastard hadn’t paid attention to how you got him out as he shrugged past you this morning while you tried to recover from last nights fucking session.

You were still sore in between your legs but Rafe couldn’t get enough.

And neither could you. This was becoming addicting and you were also afraid. You were starting to want more and notice small details about him. How he liked his coffee once he let you go yesterday morning. And the momentary second he held you last night after you came. His fingers could be soft and gentle as they traced over a small scar on your body.

He didn’t ask where it came from and you didn’t feel like telling him about the time your dad threw a beer bottle at you and it cut your skin.

Rafe seemed to understand your situation more than he ever let on. But you didn’t dare to ask.

As you got to him, he grasped your chin and admired the makeup you put on and started to spin you.

You wore a favorite dress, knee socks and a pair of heels. Your hair was loose which was a rare thing since it was usually up during a long shift.

“God, you’re fucking gorgeous. Too bad all that makeup is gonna be wasted.” He growled and his hold tightened. He immediately pushed you to the floor, wasting no time getting you on your knees with an expectant look in his eyes.

As you reached forward to pull his bottoms down, Rafe’s large hand lightly smacked your cheek. “Remember what to call me? Or do I need to remind you?” You had halfway pulled down his boxers.

“Yes, daddy.” You whispered and he gave you a half smile of approval.

“Good little bunny,” His sentence ended in a moan as you stroked the soft skin of his dick and spit on the precum tip.

Rafe brought out a side of you that you only secretly fantasize of being. Nothing much was off limits with him and you didn’t feel afraid to allow yourself to be as dirty as possible. You ran your tongue on both sides of his cock before kitten licking the growing beads on his tip like the obedient girl you were. Your hands teased him as you rotated motions on his dick. You had learned over the past short days what felt good to him from your lack of experience.

But Rafe wasn’t in a mood for teasing as he yanked your hair back, hard and slapped the tip against your tongue and shoving inside your mouth. You initially freeze, still getting used to the feeling as your throat wants to close but you force yourself to relax and breathe through your nose. His skin gently grazed your teeth as your cheeks hollowed as he started violently thrusting.

He started to throat fuck you, his precum sticking to your breath as you attempted to pull back to swallow but he only held you harder as your hands were pressed against the wall to steady yourself with fingers splayed. “Daddy, I can’t breathe.” It sounded like a jumble but you knew he fucking understood you by the way he laughed with sadistic humor.

“You can fucking take it, you dirty bitch.” He says between thrusts as your eyes were welled and shed tears.

Your gag reflex wanted to kick in but you remembered his previous words about breathing through your nose.

It was painful in the most delicious way as Rafe bobbed your head but then as he came to his edge, he removed you and you felt him cum all over your face. Your mouth, jaw and neck was covered in sticky fluid as you blinked and went to rub your eyes. You coughed slightly with a drunken moan.

“You’re such a whore, you know that? Letting me fuck your mouth. Smear all that pretty makeup. We’re not even halfway done with what you owe me.” He growled and nudged you flat on your back.

He easily shoved your dress and exposed your bare pussy. It tightened around nothing as he dreamily ran his fingers along the slit. “Only I get to do this, understand? Only I get to fuck this little cunt.”

“Yes, daddy.” You whined as he plunged his middle and ring finger inside you, curling them as your walls clenched around his digits. He pumped them slowly in a come here motion, his thumb able to stroke your throbbing clit as black prickled the edge of your vision.

All your problems felt forgotten as he widened your legs, your heels making a slight noise against the wooden floor as he bent your knees. He took out his fingers and then straddled you. Like last night, you expected him to start slamming into you but he pulled both legs over his shoulders, your back arched off the floor.

He was able to hold your thighs as his heavy cock stretched you out and started relentlessly thrusting. Thank god you were wet enough as he humped you like a fucking animal, “that’s it, baby. You’re doing so good.” Your eyes widened briefly before your core fluttered intensely.

He never praised you in a genuine way but you didn’t echo it as you tried to hold onto his arm. “Thank you for fucking me, daddy.” You managed between his movements. His mouth was parted as he grunted, his hair fully across his forehead.

He made you swear up and down that you wouldn’t use birth control and you kept your word. Your own release came and spilled all over his cock in a shrill noise that escaped your abused throat.

Rafes own cum coated your insides as you felt his hand shake around your thighs. You both stayed there for a few seconds.

You briefly wondered if he would give you the same fluttering gentleness he did last night but that hope quickly vanished as he pulled off, leaving you on the floor. “Get cleaned up. I’ll take you home.” He said dismissively and your heart ached as he walked away, getting dressed again.

You shouldn’t expect any different. This wasn’t a relationship. This was a business transaction and ownership. Everything he said was just in the moment. But the hurt was still there. You had done all this for a man who didn’t deserve it and now…was it worth it?

You did it more than your asshole father. You were doing this because you liked Rafe Cameron.

He had the decency to wait for you to enter your home as he dropped you off. Your dad had taken the car but you were met with a disaster as you closed the door with your heeled shoe. Your dad was sitting on the floor, empty beer cans surrounding him as you made a noise of frustration.

“Where the fuck have you been?” He slurred and paused at your messily wiped off face. “You out there whoring yourself? To that Kook?” His words were a slap as he stood.

“Yeah, dad. I had to hook up with Rafe so I could get your ass out of jail.” You ground out. “I don’t want to hear it.”

Your dad scoffed. “I don’t give a shit what you do out there. But when you get in here at least have some self respect. You’re no better than some slut.”

“Stop it. Stop talking like I’m a piece of trash!” You shouted. “I do nothing but try and keep this house and fucking help you!”

The hit came without warning and faster than you ever expected. You scattered on the carpet. Clutching your cheek, your dad kicked you without warning. “Coming into my fucking house, talking to me like I’m a little bitch. Who the FUCK do you think you are?” He hit you again, harder and your mouth was bloody.

“STOP IT!!” You screamed. “DAD STOP! I’m sorry!” You sobbed.

The door burst open, slamming against the wall and you saw Rafe’s tall form fill the space. His blue eyes caught you and they burned with rage as they saw you in a heap. His head snapped at your father who loomed over you unsteadily.

Rafe lunged at him and landed a sickening punch. You heard the crunch of your dads nose, knocking him against the wall. Rafe punched him again in the face, the jaw, his stomach and finally he blindly wailed on him. “Don’t you Fucking Ever Put Your hands on her!” He roared at your father who was slipping on the ground, his eyes shut and bloody.

“Stop! Please!” You shrieked at him, scrambling to stand. “rafe, please!”

That made him slow and jerk his head towards you, his knuckles bloody and his shirt haphazardly to the side. He breathed hard before focused again on your father. He yanked him closer by his collar. “You ever touch her again, I will kill you. You understand, motherfucker? I’ll fucking kill you.” He shoved him away allowing him to fall on his broken nose.

Rafe pulled off his jacket as he approached you. “Here.” He said gruffly and put it around your shoulders. “We’re fucking leaving.”

You shivered in his car as tears streamed down your face as he drove you back to his house. The drive had been silent. Rafe had taken you to his kitchen where he got out an ice pack and pressed it against your cheek. It was almost awkward. Being in his home without the immediate fucking. And he wasn’t used to being kind. That you could tell by the way his eye contact wavered.

You still hadn’t spoken. You had drank water to try and clear the blood from your mouth. “Thank you, Rafe. I don’t know what would have happened if you didn’t save me.”

He shook his head. “Don’t thank me. I-I’m really sorry.”

That took you aback. “You’re sorry?” You questioned.

“Yeah, I am. I never should have taken you back. If I knew how bad he was I would have-“ He clenched his jaw and gingerly stroked your hair out of your face. “I treated you like shit earlier. That wasn’t cool.”

His struggle for words was endearing as you let him figure out how to phrase it.

“You’re gonna stay here. Take a break. You need to heal. You know I’ll take care of you? You don’t need him anymore. I’m your daddy now, princess. Don’t even think about that piece of shit.”

Your eyes watered again and you nodded. Not having the energy to put up a fight. “Thank you, daddy.”

Rafe nodded. “Good girl.” He glanced down and lifted you up on the counter. You gasped and he settled his fingers on your legs.

Rafe lowered until he was on his knees. You looked at him with shock as he separated your thighs, and his gaze was predatory as he looked at your cunt.

“I only do this for you, bunny. No one else gets daddy’s tongue” he ran his tongue along the slit before it laid against your clit.

Your head rolled back and you cried out as he sucked the center before lapped at your pussy like a starved man and kept you from jerking around. Your thighs went around his head as he moved his head to capture your cunt, his sloppy lips sucked and slurped every ounce of arousal you gave him. This experience was so different and better than you thought. Rafe Cameron on his knees beneath you was a rare sight and you couldn’t get enough of his moans. He repeatedly went from greedily licking your clit to putting his tongue inside until you were riding his face. Your ass was on the edge of the counter as you whimpered and whined his name.

“Daddy, I'm gonna cum.” Your breathing was fast as you covered his mouth with your creamy fluid and he groaned deeply and licked up the mess.

He stood and wiped his chin with the back of his hand before kissing you. You tasted yourself on his tongue as he sucked your lower lip and when you winced he stopped.

“Sorry, princess.” He chuckled and nodded. “Well, I’m not really good at this. But I don’t want to just fuck you. Just so you know.”

And those words were in his language the most sincere he could tell you. And you accepted it.

@xxbutdaddyilovehimxx @xxhellfirebunnyxx @drewstarkeyslut @imyourdaninow @ifeeltoofuckingmuch @slvt4jamesmarch @take-everything-you-can @lesservillain @emsgoodthinkin

[lipstickghoulie]

Crimson Plots

•Astarion/female Tav (lots and lots of menstrual and blood talk, period oral, period sex, dirty talk, Astarion being manipulative since this is set around act one, PIV, creampie. Over 5k words. Could be seen as a sequel to my “Loss of Innocence” drabble or not. Version with breeding kink is available on my ao3)•

The first time that Astarion had sniffed out that Tav was on her menstrual cycle was the same night that they made camp after their rather tumultuous initial impression. He hadn’t thought much of it at the time, beyond being moody since it was clear that she was on the tail end of it since the smell was so faint as to be nearly imperceptible even to Astarion’s nose. He knew that, even as charming as he could be under the right circumstances, there was no possible way that he could see himself talking his silver tongued self into her pants before the time had passed for him to try such a rare treat… especially since he had been holding a dagger against her neck earlier that day. His luck, or lack thereof at the time, had made him even more broody even though it was doubtful that he would have gone against Cazador’s edicts that early on.

Cazador’s rules about not drinking from thinking creatures, unfortunately, had extended to women on their periods. The few spawn that had been willing to test how serious that their master had been about that warning were found out very quickly and been made into violent, stomach-turning examples that still made Astarion shudder to think about to this day. How exactly the bastard had known that those unlucky spawn had indulged on the fine red between someone’s legs was anyone’s guess and not something that Astarion had felt wasn’t worth his time to poke the boundaries of personally when he was already frequently on Cazador’s shit list in those days anyhow. Why add more tortures and indignities on the pile?

But a few weeks later, Astarion was still a free man and away from Cazador’s rules and compulsions. He had already fed on Tav’s lovely neck and nothing had happened. He had finagled himself into her bed and hopefully her loyalties. Things were definitely looking up for him… and he began realizing that this chance might come up again with him having full opportunity to lap at a different source of her blood. Why not break this rule too? He liked eating pussy, especially Tav’s sweet pussy, so he couldn’t stop thinking about how much more delicious it might be while juicy with her sanguine fluids.

Some might uncharitably call what Astarion started doing as scheming. The fact that in the days leading up to when he guessed that her period might be starting, he became a lot more amenable to Tav’s do-gooding inclinations. That he had a placidly encouraging smile on his face instead of his typical scowl when she glanced at him after helping some pathetic and downtrodden soul for free, that he would give her an encouraging pat on the shoulder (even if half-hearted) instead of crossing his arms over his chest at the thought of Tav assisting these people who didn’t deserve her generosity. She didn’t seem to catch on that he might be up to something and merely seemed grateful to not deal with any pushback on her decision making. Some people would definitely call what he was attempting as plotting when he started squirreling away the choicest food supplies when they would be looting all of those thousands of tedious barrels and wooden trunks during their adventures. A cinnamon roll here, a shiny apple there… all tucked away into Astarion’s pack for him to kindly present to her later with a tender smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

When she responded with a huge hug and watery, appreciative smile that seemed a bit too emotional for the gift of simple snacks, Astarion could barely hide his grin. She seemed hormonal, even her scent changing into something headier and muskier, and hopefully that meant that his desired goal wasn’t too far off.

And when the next day came around and he could catch a whiff of blood coming from Tav’s tent after they started making camp for the night? The smile on his face was definitely predatory and sharp. Astarion ducked into his own tent just to grab a fluffy towel, that he had nicked for this express purpose the last time that they had traded with a merchant, before sauntering over to her own canvas enclosure.

He almost felt bad when he lifted up her tent flap without greeting her first and walked right into Tav getting changed, her nudity on full display. Every soft curve of her physique, every enticing muscle, all calling to him as she yelped Astarion’s name in shock at the intrusion.

“Sorry, my love,” Astarion said immediately, though his inflection spelled out that he was anything but sorry and was, in fact, enjoying the view. The iron rich, cloying scent of blood was even stronger in here and it was enough for his mouth to feel parched in sheer, reeling want. Hells, if that’s what her moon’s blood smelt like, it must taste even better than he had been imagining. “I caught the scent of blood and I thought that I should come check on you, make sure that you aren’t injured?”

Tav winced, both in embarrassment and in pain, touching a spot on her lower stomach as she seemed to prioritize that over trying to be modest over her bare frame. She paused before stuttering out quietly, “Ah, uh, no. I’m not hurt. I mean, not really. It’s my… period? And while I have cramps, I’m not, like, dying or anything…”

She stopped talking and chewed on her bottom lip, face pinking in humiliation. Tav was so adorable in his eyes right now. So bashful over normal bodily functions and clearly having no idea that this was practically catnip to a vampire.

Astarion stalked forward, giving her his most sympathetic pout and sheepdogging her over to where her simple and plain bedroll lay sprawled out. He murmured, “Oh, pet, that is so unfortunate. I really hate to see you in pain like this. If you’d permit me to, I could help you out, chase those mean old cramps right away? I have heard that pleasure can make them subside for a while.”

The towel was already being unfurled in his hands and laid out over her bedroll to protect it from any messes that may occur. Astarion was nothing if not benevolent about spilled blood. Tav blinked at him a few times in confusion but didn’t protest as he took her shoulders in his hold and delicately guided her down to sit on the protective layer of cotton.

“You mean… like sex? I thought that men didn’t like doing that when women were in this state,” Tav squeaked out, puzzled and blushing even harder at his offer. “I would hate it if you were disgusted by me after this, Astarion.”

Obviously he meant to do a lot more than sex but as always, Tav’s naivety was so twee.

Astarion crooned, nearly sugary in tone, “I could never be disgusted by you, dear Tav. I want to do this and I’d love to help you out. Consider it a favor between lovers. But only if you want to, of course.”

That last part was one that he actually could say that he meant. Astarion might have been a tad grumpy if she said no but he’d accept it with no ill will. But how he hoped that she’d say yes and he knelt in front of her in anticipation, unable to stop his heated gaze from flicking over the apex where legs met and where all of her tempting sanguine offerings pooled where he couldn’t quite see yet.

There was a beat of silence, then two, then Tav nodded and laid back a little. Her movements seemed unsure but it was more out of self consciousness than reluctance to let him do this, which was good enough for him. Astarion hastily pulled his shirt off over his head and threw it into the corner of her tent to recover later. It wouldn’t do to stain it when they both knew already that he was already a messy eater when it came to only her neck. With a beaming and victorious grin, he tapped her knees apart so he could survey his prize.

She was even more jawdroppingly stunning than he thought she’d be, with her center tearing up with the most impressive red drops, like rubies calling to him and glimmering under the light. Some of her blood hued darker in some areas, almost black, and he couldn’t wait to test out if the difference in color meant a difference in flavor. Astarion scooted closer until he was close enough for his breath to ghost over her responsive folds and cool the liquid there, making Tav shiver.

His tongue chased the thick river of blood up her upper thigh, clearing a path up her skin that revealed a cute little vein in her flesh. Astarion immediately nipped at with his sharp teeth, unable to resist marking somewhere that he knew he would return to later, like a reminder to himself. Tav’s moan broke off in an admonishing shriek of surprise, though it quieted when Astarion soothed the bite with another long, lingering lick and batted his eyelashes at her contritely from his spot between her legs.

Gods, he knew that he should be careful. With the metallic and deliciously bright pop of her monthly blood coating his tastebuds, it was getting harder and harder to pretend that he was doing this solely for Tav’s benefit and simply doing her a favor that she would have to repay to him at a later time. All she’d have to do is look below the waist and she would catch on to how Astarion’s straining erection pushed at the front of his breeches and begged for relief, precum dotting the dark fabric in a way that he couldn’t ever remember happening before. Normally his arousal was not dripping down the length of his dick as if it was crying with want at the mere thought of being buried in a tight, needy hole.

“Is this helping at all, pet?” Astarion asked in a carefully put-together tone of concern. He was just trying so hard to help her out, after all. “Or do you need a bit… more?”

And without waiting for an answer, just to give Tav a small taste of what he was offering while he received a taste of his own in return, Astarion made confident eye contact with her as he slowly dragged the tip of his tongue up the frills of her clit.

The way that Tav moaned out his name was more beautiful than any song he’s ever heard, more of a masterwork than the best blade forged by the most skilled of blacksmiths. The breathless and shocked undertone was something extra that made his dick twitch against the fabric prison of his pants. Thankfully he had been too eager when plotting out this excursion and had foregone his usual underwear so that was one less barrier. Resigned now that he needed to free himself, Astarion hastily reached down and unlaced the front, finally letting his cock spring free with a sigh of relief. It leaked a few stray drops of clear precum onto the towel underneath them but with how Tav was already starting to paint it crimson as she dripped under his steady attention, he wasn’t too worried about her noticing.

Astarion sweetly pressed a kiss against her clit. Tav tried to jerk away instinctively, her knee almost knocking Astarion in the cheek as her leg reared out. His hands shot back up to grasp her by the upper thighs and firmly hold her open for both his eyes and mouth to devour at his leisure. He didn’t think he had ever seen a more delicious sight as Tav trembling, eyes wide and pupils dilated, as he spread her apart to admire the way her arousal and blood mixed together and drenched her lower lips and down the curves of her ass.

“What’s the matter? Doesn’t it feel good? Aren’t I helping your pretty pussy feel so loved?” Astarion asked innocently, his thumbs rubbing circles into the meat of her thighs as he stared up at her from his kneeling position. “It would be rude to stop me now before I’ve even gotten enough of a taste to satiate me, you know…”

“P-please continue, I just got startled-“ Poor Tav stammered out, cheeks turning an adorable shade of bright pink that made Astarion want to make her even more flustered, just to see how far down that blush might travel.

Astarion was already leaning forward to deliver another mockery of a chaste kiss to her swollen clit. Though he couldn’t resist flicking his tongue out before he pulled back this time to trace the pearl slowly, making sure that some of his saliva drooled out past his smiling fangs to coat it until it was glistening. Oh, it really felt right to him for her to be coated or filled with Astarion’s spit and cum. As much as he was using her for his own purposes, he really did love marking Tav up as his in any form that he could. A traitorous part of his mind slithered and snickered and pointed out how awfully obsessive he was over a woman that he was just using, but Astarion ignored that voice in the back of his head as well as he ever did… if a bit uneasily.

Enough playing with his food. Tav was turned on enough that she was pliable, distracted and surely wouldn’t notice how much fun that Astarion was having. He would prime the pump, so to speak, and then have the sweetest meal that he could ever look forward to. One of his hands fell off of their holding position on her leg to slip between her folds, two fingers sliding right into her slippery, inviting core. Even with how sensitive that Tav probably was right now, he met no resistance so after a few unhurried pumps into her, he added another finger.

Tav’s cunt struggled to take the width of three fingers but much like she did with his cock usually, the greedy slit still stretched and sucked his fingers in wetly. Astarion never forgot in moments like this that he was the only one to ever touch her like this, the only one to ever defile her holes and fuck her, and pride swelled inside of him at the thought. He would make damn sure that he remained the only one to ever possess her so completely too, if he was able to continue using his cunning to stay in her good graces like this even after the illithid threat was taken care of.

Her hands reached out desperately, trying to grab onto Astarion’s forearms so wildly that she nicked him with her nails, her voice shaking and high pitched as he worked at her with his wicked fingers, “A-Astarion, that feels so nice, please…”

“Aw, I know, I know, you poor thing,” Astarion tutted in false sympathy, shaking his head. “Don’t you worry your pretty little head; I’ll take such good care of you and make those pesky cramps go away.”

Tav’s crimson liquid was drenching Astarion’s hands, a mixture of it and her juices running down the planes of his palm and wrist by now. The metallic and animalistic scent of sex and blood was so heavy in the air that Astarion could feel his mouth watering. He knew he’d have blood packed deep under his fingernails after this for days and normally, the thought of anything messing up his perfectly manicured nails would have infuriated him but now? The idea of seeing the reminder of this delightful excursion even while putting a dagger into an enemy’s spine during battle was very appealing indeed.

On the next come-hither movement into her pussy, Astarion’s fingertips glanced upon that spongy section that made her twitch and keen out his name again. He couldn’t help the grin that pulled at his lips as he immediately pressed forward harder, increasing his speed between words as he crowed out triumphantly, “Right there, darling? Show me just how great it feels when I touch… you… right… there… my good girl.”

Astarion had made thousands upon thousands of people come before; he had it down to a precise science what he could do to make someone, anyone, lose their composure in minutes. But it never had felt like this before as Tav’s walls squeezed around his fingers and she found her climax. He usually never felt anything at all but with her, he felt smug, excited, hungry… he tried his best to chalk it up to being starving and surrounded by blood even as that small voice deep in his brain laughed at him.

Tav didn’t even have a moment to catch her breath before Astarion was spreading her open again and descending on her. He had delayed his gratification as much as he was willing to now, he wasn’t a patient man and he had been practically saintly in the restraint that he had shown tonight (at least in Astarion’s opinion). He took a few testing licks of the leaking trails of Tav’s cum and life force mixed and gods above and below, it was a good thing that he wasn’t standing otherwise his knees would have buckled and he would have crumpled like someone being released from a ‘hold person’ spell.

Her blood was always the best that he had ever supped and that went beyond simple-minded sentimentality at how she had been the first thinking and humanoid creature that he had fed from. It made him feel more awake, almost alive, in addition to tasting like the most bubbly and effervescent (if metallic) wine he had ever enjoyed. It tasted even better right now though and while Astarion couldn’t tell if it was because it was coming from her pussy or because of her orgasm, all that he knew was that he couldn’t get enough.

“Fuck,” he breathed, then caught a clot of blood on the flat of his tongue, closing his eyes in bliss for a moment as he swallowed thickly. It slid down his throat like some sort of exotic jellied syrup and he knew in that moment that the time for teasing was over. Any former illusion that he had of restraint was gone and as dead as he was.

Astarion’s mouth dove to seal over her as he moved now to bully as much of his tongue into her as possible. Her voice seemed far away now, partially because of her thighs trying to push themselves closed around his ears, though that just added to the pleasure for him as her soft skin rubbed against the erogenous points of his ears. Thankfully she seemed to still be very much into this if the garbled cries of “yes” and “Astarion” were any indication. Though the way that her hole clenched and kindly produced more liquid of both arousal and the crimson variety was definitely another sign that Tav did not want him to stop. Not that Astarion was sure that he could, not when he felt drunk on her, addicted past all logical reasoning and rationality, his tongue pistoning into her like something more machine than vampire, his grip desperately trying to pull her closer as her blood ran down his chin and neck like juices being let loose from a freshly bitten peach.

After these dreadful business with the Absolutist cult and everything else was done and dusted, Astarion decided (rather deliriously), that he would have Tav tied up and spread open for his feasting pleasures during her monthly menstruations every month for the rest of their lives. Just a perfect treat, helpless to the ravages of his mouth as he drank his fill of her until his stomach was full and she was limp and mindless from countless orgasms. She was rather squirmy right now so he thought she might even thank him next time if he restrained her and licked at her while he placed her on his face to sit on it. Why not take advantage of how Astarion didn’t need to breathe? Yes, this seemed like a fine plan to him, even if he was normally adverse to planning things out at all.

This was a fantastic position too though, with Tav on her back and Astarion looming over her, even if her hands had become too weak to grab at him further and just clutched at the towel still doing its best to absorb any falling bodily fluids underneath her sweaty frame. Astarion already knew that he would spirit that towel away later under the guise of being helpful and trying to help launder it. Really, it would end up disappearing into his tent for him to hold up against his nose and inhale during the times that he would jerk himself off to this memory, to let the lingering traces of Tav’s fluids guide his mind back to this place mentally when he was alone.

Astarion nudged his nose into the swollen ridge of Tav’s clit on the next thrust of his tongue into her and unexpectedly, that was enough to make her cum again. She whimpered this time instead of wailing as his mouth was rewarded with a gush of sticky, aroused blood. Astarion had enough volume for both of them though as he groaned so loudly into her cunt that he was sure that his tongue vibrated where it was happily trapped within her spasming, gummy walls. His precum was dribbling off of his erection in persistent streams now, even wetting his heavy and wanting balls, and he truly knew that if he didn’t bury his dick deeply and thoroughly into her soon, he would go mad beyond help. She had bewitched him with the tang of her gifted blood and now his brain swirled with nothing but thoughts of Tav, of owning and taking and ravishing her in every position possible (and some that probably weren’t, anatomy-wise).

Almost regretfully, Astarion backed up slightly and let his tongue free from her wonderful cunt, taking one last lap of enjoyment at a cheeky river of blood that had escaped his notice. Tav was starting to sit up, giving him a dopey and grateful smile as she said, “Oh, Astarion, I already feel so much better, my cramps feel like they’re nearly gone, thank you!”

“We’re not done yet,” Astarion growled darkly, pushing Tav back down with an impatient hand shoving between her perky breasts until she flopped onto the bedroll bonelessly. Any pretense of amused condescension and helpfulness was gone as if it had never been there at all, he no longer cared if she thought he was doing her a kindly favor now. He did briefly soothe her shock by running the same fingers that had returned Tav to her laying down position over her stiffened nipples, pulling on them until they ached and her spine arched. She had the cutest tits, Astarion mused to himself almost fondly. He would enjoy spraying his cum over them one day, covering those sensitive nipples with white pearls, if he could ever convince himself to blow his load somewhere other than her welcoming holes.

He couldn’t wait any longer to fuck her though. Astarion yanked off his pants the rest of the way, uncaring as he heard stitches come undone in complaint at the brusque way that he got disrobed. He could always repair any rips later, he reasoned, but he didn’t want to waste any more precious seconds instead of being balls-deep in Tav’s eager and weeping slit. Grabbing the damp base of his dick, Astarion lined himself up with her hole and stuffed himself inside in one brutal motion. Tav cried out, mouth slack and cheeks still so adorably flushed, but didn’t protest at his rough treatment even though she had to be overstimulated by now. Fuck, her pussy was even hotter than normal with it being heated further by both her production of menstrual blood and his amorous attentions and Astarion had to shut his eyes for a moment and just exhale for fear that he’d go over the edge in one embarrassingly short thrust.

“You are so perfect, every time,” Astarion said lowly, giving an experimental push of his cock and smirking when he was reassured that he wouldn’t cum right away. “I could spend the rest of my unlife attempting to stretch out this little cunt and never tire of it.”

“Astarion, you can’t keep talking to me like that, it’s too much,” Tav complained, voice simultaneously pleading with him to stop and to keep going. Poor darling didn’t know what she wanted, Astarion thought to himself, entertained. It’s a good thing that he knew exactly what her body needed.

“Oh, it’s too much? It’s too much for me to tell you how I love how needy and desperate that you are for me and only me? How I love how gorgeous that your pussy looks when it’s trying to fit around my cock?” Astarion purred out, smirking, manhandling her a bit to tilt her hips up just a touch and go back to his former position of holding them open as securely as if his hands were iron manacles. His bruising grasp left stains of her own blood behind on one of her thighs as a pointed reminder of how he had fingered her open and bathed his hand in the generous bounty that the very center of her had offered him.

Tav only cried out shrilly in response and when he felt her flutter all around him, Astarion lost interest in bantering at her much more anyways. Pussy this fantastic, this divine, was surely how Strahd met his downfall, Astarion thought to himself, crazed as he watched blood bubble and well up in the crevice between them as he fucked her. The notion didn’t deter him even a little though as he picked up speed, his hips a blur as he pounded his dick into Tav again and again. He knew she would be feeling this for days to come, struggling to sit down and even walk on their trek to the crèche, and that made a strangled, lustful whine erupt from his throat. He was humiliating himself now with how he was practically drooling as he took her, his hair messy from her thighs ruffling up his typically styled curls, at how shaky his pants of exhaled breath were. To distract her from how much she was driving him to ruin, Astarion looped her legs loosely over the juts of his hips and dragged his hands up her arms until they intertwined with hers.

This wasn’t something he usually did either; holding hands during sex. It felt oddly right, here with Tav, though. Their noses bumping against each other as he lay almost prone on top of her, driving his cock into her with mindless abandon as their eyes locked desperately, as if they could connect with more than just the tadpoles in their skulls, fingers entangled with hers even as one of his was still wet with her blood and desire. Astarion leaned forward and gave her a hesitant kiss for reasons he couldn’t quite explain, unsure if she would be turned off by the remnants of the drying bodily liquids there either but no. She met his kiss as openly and without reservation as when she would ask him for a kiss anywhere else and it made something pinch in his chest where his heart lived.

A few more frenzied thrusts and Tav was grabbing his fingers just as tightly as her pussy clutched at his cock, her eyes wide and surprised as she came yet again. This was the time that pulled him along with her, unable to resist any longer and unwilling to stave off his own pleasure for even a minute further. He could feel his length pulsing seemingly for ages as his hips slowed, spilling what felt like an ocean of semen into her until it spurted out around the sides of his dick. As he delicately started to pull out, it wet her pussy lips so well that Astarion longed to lap at them again and gather up their combined essences in his mouth and experience how they tasted together. He could tell by how disheveled and cock drunk that Tav looked that she was too overstimulated for that right now so he just resolved to try it next time, chuckling at the idea. Instead, he gathered up some of the escaping white strings of his cum, swirled beautifully in some spots by the ruby color of her blood, and pushed it steadily back into her puffy, slick hole where it belonged. She mewled at the sensation on her sore walls but let him do it, too exhausted and fucked out to do much than give Astarion an exasperated look.

He settled back in over her and tucked the top of her head under his chin, rolling them both slightly so then they could both lay on their side comfortably. Astarion couldn’t help but be amazed at how happy he felt in this moment. His vampiric hunger wasn’t completely gone (as it probably never would be as long as he remained a spawn) but it was placated enough to just be a tiny rumble instead of the ravenous, quavering earthquake that it usually was. Even as messy, blood-sticky and cum-tacky as they both were, Astarion felt content and peaceful.

Tav’s voice was small and drowsy as she murmured against his neck, “Thank you for all of that, Astarion. It feels like my cramps are gone completely, you were so right.”

Oh. Yes. He had nearly forgotten that had been his ruse for doing this in the first place.

“Well, I usually am right about most things, darling,” Astarion sniffed haughtily, pulling her in closer against his side as he basked in her warmth and grateful adoration. “Maybe we should make this a frequent occurrence whenever your period comes to visit. I do hate to see you suffer so…”

Tav muttered her agreement and nuzzled further into him peacefully. Astarion smiled and allowed himself to close his eyes and enjoy the snuggling. He had earned it, being so selfless and helping her out so thoroughly… Astarion couldn’t get through the thought without chuckling. Still, he had manipulated his way into what he wanted yet again, he had Tav at his side and devoted and what more could he want than that?

[tiny-1karus]

Pairing: yandere!batfam (Dick, Jason, Tim, and Damian) x fem!reader

(All the boys are 20+, Damian is around the same age as the reader and they're both in university.)

A tiny little sequel to the Cinderella-esque story, but from the boys perspective. There are multiple parts to this but you can check out the first part here:

Part 1

This is an almost 3k fic, so enjoy!

...

It was the following evening after the inciting but unfortunate incident that had landed you on the medical bay of the Wayne manor. You had been unconscious for most of the night until the late afternoon as your body recovered from the traumatic head injury you had received from your stepmom, only gaining consciousness for barely an hour before immediately falling back asleep. The last night's events, along with your clearly overworked and underfed body, had clearly taken it's toll on you. With the state of your body and your consistent lack of consciousness, they had to attach an IV tube to your arm.

The Wayne brothers, along with their father, had taken turns diligently monitoring you throughout this time after returning in the early dawn from their... Mission.

They could all finally relax as the primary and greatest threat to your well-being was finally taken care of.

They hope they burned in hell.

Your condition, thankfully, wasn't dire, even if it wasn't ideal. All you needed was complete and relative rest until the next 3-4 days, which was slightly overestimated, but none of them were taking any chances on your health. Not when you were still in such a fragile state.

Currently, Dick and Damian were on watch for you. Dick was sitting on a chair to your left while Damian stood next to him like a silent sentry, both of them watching the steady rise and fall of your chest as if to reassure themselves that you were still there with them. Even in sleep, you still had this shadow that seemed to haunt you as your face never seemed to be fully at peace.

Dick was holding on to your hand with a guilty expression, his blue eyes darting to the large square gauze taped to your left cheek. It hid the massive bruise that nearly covered the whole left side of your face. He still couldn't express into words the magnitude of rage that had consumed him when he saw the dark mark on your precious face.

Dick never thought himself a particularly violent person. He tended to use diplomacy as a primary approach when violence is clearly not warranted. As a vigilante, he uses violence as a means to protect, but last night he had used all his strength to harm.

He still couldn't fathom why it had felt so good in that one instance, so he tried not to think about it anymore.

He gently ran his thumb against the back of your hand as his eyes darted to the bandage on your face. He bit his lip as his own face scrunched up into an expression of guilt once again.

Clearly, he was failing at that.

Damian let out an annoyed sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Grayson, I can hear you thinking from here." He stared down at his brother with an unimpressed look, "and clearly, you're doing a poor job at it."

Dick bent his head until his forehead touched the back of your hand. He really wanted to kiss it but his guilty conscience made him think he was unworthy of the action at the moment.

"I dunno Dames, I just feel so... Guilty."

Damian let out a quiet exhale as he considered the miserable, guilt-ridden state of his oldest brother.

A tiny part of him, the part that hurt and raged at all the pain you had endured by your so-called family, felt remorseful that you had gotten injured that night. This piece of him ached at the thought of all the other nights that he wasn't there to protect you from it all, even if he had been unaware of your existence for most of it.

But he would never let anyone know that.

The youngest Wayne laid his hand on Dick's shoulder. He waited until his older brother finally looked up from his hunched over position on your hospital bed. Damian inclined his head towards the door before walking towards it, silently waiting for his brother to follow.

Dick seemed hesitant to leave your side but the impatient gesture that Damian made at the door finally made him follow his youngest brother outside. He closed the door with a faint click, and they both walked towards the observation window on the other side of the medical bay. They settled at the spot that was directly in front of your bed; Dick with his arms hanging loosely at his sides and Damian with his arms crossed over his chest.

You might have been unconscious but they didn't want to take any chances of you hearing this conversation.

Damian surprised his brother by speaking first. "I hope you know that it was done out of necessity. She wouldn't have come to us, where it's infinitely more safe and she has a vast access to superior resources, if this didn't happen." The conviction in his voice brokered no room for doubt or argument. He said this as if it was merely fact and to a degree, it was, but Dick couldn't help the sliver of doubt that persistently niggled at the back of his mind.

Damian hadn't turned to look at his brother as he spoke, his green eyes locked intensely on your sleeping form on the hospital bed. If he had any doubts, which Dick seriously doubted, he gave none of it away. Instead, his jaw seemed to clench a bit before letting out a silent, imperceptible sigh. "Nothing would have changed for her if we hadn't intervened." He pointed out with an unreadable look.

Dick sighed as he looked at you through the glass with a sad expression. He had hoped, however vaguely, that your family wouldn't have stooped that low. That they wouldn't have fallen for the bait.

The only tragedy is that they hadn't suffered more.

When Dick—uncharacteristically—still failed to respond, Damian let out a frustrated noise. Since when did he become the voice of reason for this family? The youngest Wayne pivoted and pinned his older brother with a hard, unyielding look.

"Grayson, I will only say this once. There is no need to feel guilty. It was the optimal way to get her out of that disgusting cesspool and we succeeded." There was a fierce conviction to the youngest Wayne as he said this and even Dick couldn't help but feel a little swayed.

Dick ran both of his hands through his hair aggressively and sighed harshly. "I just wish that she didn't get hurt in the process." We could have prevented it, was what went unsaid but clearly understood between the two brothers.

At this, even Damian didn't have a reply or rebuttal ready. Because it was the same thing that plagued him about this situation. But he consoled  reassured himself that you had survived and were finally in their care, where you were safe (where you belonged).

It had been years since Damian has thought this way, not since he started living with his father and adopted siblings and developed a moral code and conscience of his own, but this is one of those rare instances where the ends undeniably justified the means.

Damian couldn't—wouldn't regret his choice to plant your money box on top of your bed while leaving your door ajar for the filthy vultures to pounce like the mindless, greedy beasts they were. It was their fault for acting on their avarice and they paid for it with their lives.

"I just wish she didn't get hurt."

Damian narrowed his eyes in thought. Truthfully, you weren't supposed to get hurt.

...▼▼▼...

The hours that had led up to the incident had been a hectic whirlwind for everyone as they were neck-deep in the process of busting a criminal network drug-ring operation. The entire team had been investigating this underground operation for weeks and were on the cusp of sweeping this operation into the light.

And this was in the middle of them monitoring the situation in your house. Robin had already planted your moneybox in the open a few days ago and it hadn't even taken 30 minutes for the pests to take the bait. Through the multiple cameras they had set up within your house, it almost amazed the team how none of your step-family seemed to think twice before going on a shopping spree with your hard earned money, extravagantly parading their ill-gotten luxury (Damian scoffed, they called that luxury?) in your house right in front of you. All this, as you still worked hard and let these putrid leeches work you into the ground like a slave. It was only a matter of time before you realized where your money had unfortunately gone. They all waited with baited breaths for the explosive fall out that would ensue and had prepared measures to protect you from it.

But the sudden arrival of a rival gang on one of the warehouses that also acted as a quasi-headquarters for one of the heads of this operation threw a wrench in their plans, and suddenly all hands were needed on deck.

Batman called all of them in and the team entered the warehouse into a room that had turned into a battle ground as men and women fought in a free-for-all. Without hesitation, they all leapt into the fray.

And although the vigilantes had been busy bashing skulls, they still kept an ear out for the little ping! That would alert them of your stepmother's arrival at your house. Since that alert never preceded anything good for you.

Ping!

Red Hood nearly missed it over the sound of his and his enemy's exchange of gunfire but when he finally noticed the alert, he hurried to the nearest stack of crates for cover before pulling up the feed. You were crumpled on the floor with your stepmother nowhere in sight.

Shit, that can't be good.

"RED!" He bellowed.

From across the large warehouse, Red Robin answered. "Already on it!"

Everyone on the comms heard a curse as Red Robin sounded out the custom alert sound they had set for emergencies that pertained to you.

"Guys, we need to wrap this up now. She's running around downtown in the rain alone. She seems erratic and terrified." None of them had to be geniuses (which they were) to guess that something bad had happened in the mere moments they had focused their attention elsewhere.

Batman's gruff and gravelly voice came through the comms in a clear command, "Red Hood, Nightwing, go out and secure her location. We'll finish this."

Robin and Red Robin tightened their holds on their weapons before going back into the fight with renewed and vicious vigor. They had to finish this early so that they can see you. They barely had time to look at your feeds once the fight broke out but they couldn't ignore the foreboding feeling they got when they received your alert.

"We'll be at the house by then, make sure she's safe."

...

Nightwing could barely hide his worry as he frantically changed into the spare civilian clothes he kept in a bag right there in his own car before booking it, with Red Hood hot in his trail in his motorcycle. He already put in your coordinates in the screen on his dashboard, it began tracking the tracking device they had planted on your phone for such emergencies.

He watched as your icon ran through streets without rhyme or reason, and in the rain no less. He bit his lip, you must be terrified.

Red Hood had already taken off his helmet and had shoved it into the underseat storage of his motorcycle before following Nightwing. It was all he needed to do to transition to his 'civilian' attire. He didn't care about the rain that pelted him and soaked his clothes as he drove with the single-minded intent of finding you.

He pulled up a feed on the little monitor on the instrument display of his bike, it showed you from the image quality of street cameras running frantically in the rain. Fuck, what if you got sick?

Nightwing's—now Dick Grayson—voice called to him from the comms they both still wore, "Jay! She's up heading towards the 6th. Intercept her from the other side. I'll wait for you both there."

Jason Todd revved up his bike and broke away from the main street to cut through alleyways to beat you there. He haphazardly parked his bike next to a pile of trashbags and ran out of the dark alley and into the sidewalk. He wasn't all that worried about his bike, the Red Hood symbol emblazoned on it's side should deter most people from even touching it. But if it did get stolen, then he could just as easily replace or track it.

None of that mattered more than finding you, though.

Once he ran up to 6th street, he immediately zeroed in on you. You were standing a few blocks away from him, your clothes looked rumpled and you were positively drenched from the rain. There was a glazed look in your eyes even from this distance and he called your name as he slowly approached.

The way you had reacted to him, sobbing and grasping at him as if he was your lifeline, broke him. And he held you even closer as he let your tears mix with the rain that soaked his shirt.

Even though, he knew he was part of the reason for that.

...

Once you were finally situated at the house with all the Wayne men surrounding you (protecting you), you were quiet and withdrawn. A stark contrast from the bright and warm air that you seemed to bring with you everywhere you go. It had taken some coaxing, but you finally opened up to them about your problems at home for the first time since knowing them. And they all were aware how you tried to sugarcoat it and minimize the worst of your pain and that hurt. (Didn't you trust them?)

And once your injury was brought to light, they were furious.

Once you were being taken care of by Alfred, they pulled up the feed of the time they had missed while they were dealing with the drug-ring bust. They all watched, with surmounting horror, the way your stepmom had ruthlessly beaten you into the ground and had shouted such horrible words at you.

To say that they were infuriated was an understatement. The magnitude of their shared rage could never be encompassed by any measure in the known world.

They were down-right murderous.

How could you have gotten hurt on their watch?

... ∆ ∆ ∆ ...

"Staying there would've only hurt her more." Tim's quiet voice interjected, suddenly appearing on Dick's other side. Damian gave him a passing, acknowledging glance before his green eyes returned to your prone form on the other side of the glass.

Tim had his hands in the pockets of his favorite hoodie as he watched you with a solemn expression. "I don't regret what we did." He stated firmly. "When I was in her shoes, I remember all the pain I went through and always wished that someone would save me."

Dick turned to his brother and slung his arm over his shoulder before bringing him into a side hug. Tim leaned into his brother a little as he joined them in watching over you. Something in him settled as he watched the steady rise and fall of your chest, it was comforting to know that you were here, even if the circumstances that had led to your arrival had been unfortunate. He couldn't help but think about the similarities the both of you shared.

But unlike you, Tim had been lucky enough to have the opportunity to save himself, when he chose to become part of this family of vigilantes and chose to become one himself. He didn't want you to feel alone like he did in his previous life. And now you would never have to feel that way again.

Tim's voice was resolute as he spoke to his oldest brother, "and we saved her, Dick. I can't ever regret that."

Dick reached up to ruffle the already messy hair of his brother. "I know, Timmy." He said softly.

Still, the guilt lingered (as it will for a longer time still, like a jagged pebble inside the shoes of his psyche) as Dick watched your prone form sleeping peacefully on the hospital bed. He had a part to play in your injured state and he could never truly scrub himself of the guilt that came with that.

But you were here now, and you were safe. That was all that mattered to them.

And Dick would rather regret the things he's done rather than leaving you there to suffer by yourself.

...

Does this count as part 3?? Idk, y'all decideee. I just wanted to write a small insight on the boys and a BTS on what happened during that night. Like, isn't it just so juicy how yandere tendencies can clash with a hero's moral code and how it affects and manifests for each member?? Anyways, sorry that Bruce weren't in this part that much ;v;

Lemme know if y'all want more from this, and let me hear your thoughts! Constructive criticism is always welcome with me (whether it's you pointing out a grammatical error or a faulty tense) :>>

I'll start on the first part once I've posted this, I've barely edited this lmaooo. Thank you and enjoy!

[just-a-strange-boy]

a wicked tongue

part two

part one here

masterlist

Two frustrating nights in a row leave you restless. Stephen finds himself concerned - and poses a kind offer. He seems all too eager to pay you a friendly favor.

Pairing: Stephen Strange x Reader (GN)

Warnings: 18+ (Minors DNI), more questionable sexual proposals, friends with benefits (kind of), caught masturbating, oral sex (reader receiving), face sitting

A/N: one good turn deserves another ;) and I promised you a sequel, so there it is! thanks for all the love you left on a helping hand. I tried to keep this as gender neutral as possible, but it was very hard to not get specific with this kind of sexual interaction. I suppose you could say it's a little more afab-coded, but I still hope you'll enjoy!

The world was kind of funny.

Two days ago you had decided to help your sister's friend get off after sort of stumbling upon him in a very private moment, failing to pleasure himself, and finding yourself to just be the right person for the task.

Now, after two frustrating nights in a row of trying, you were suddenly the one incapable of getting all the way to the edge on your own. You didn't know what the matter was, why it suddenly wouldn't just...work.

Perhaps it was the fact that you were staying at someone else's place that made you unable to orgasm in peace. Not even the shower would do, though the perfect place for masturbation as the door locked and the spray would conceal any noises you did not want Stephen to hear.

But your body simply wasn't able to relax, even though that had never been one of your concerns before.

Maybe you were just tired of only ever feeling your fingers – you had to admit it had been a long while since having someone else and you rarely used the opportunity of involving a sex toy.

It wasn't that you weren't horny enough, because heaven's sake you absolutely were. That's why it was so damn frustrating. The urge to get there was strong and arousal sparked almost violently, especially when you thought about Stephen. You needed release and just couldn't find it.

Maybe it was a Stephen problem.

The man had been riddling your thoughts ever since your little encounter in his bedroom – and you found yourself replaying how beautiful he had sounded, remembering the expressions on his face flicking from frustration to pleasure to bliss and relief, how incredibly hot it had been to have him (quite literally) in your hand and bring him to a mindblowing orgasm. But even that fantasy wasn't enough to do it for you and you frankly felt bad for using Stephen as means to get off.

Shame on you. Of course, you still thought about him. Whenever you thought you got there though, you failed to cum anyways.

It left you restless and frustrated, even though it had only been a few days without release, and that's exactly why you ended up sitting at the kitchen aisle in the middle of the night, deciding to start working on the next project because you imagined it at least might distract you enough from your own dissatisfaction.

So you had thought.

But once you had opened the program, you immediately realized that neither inspiration nor motivation would grace you tonight, so you kept typing and tapping away randomly, hoping some creative spark would finally strike and keep your mind busy.

Minutes and then an hour and then two hours went by. Nothing.

About 1am, you were surprised to find Stephen joining you in the kitchen, staggering in from the dark corridor – he acknowledged you with a curt nod, though his gaze seemed to linger on you a while longer, before he quietly walked towards the kitchen counter, apparently meaning to get himself a drink, just some water.

Because you greeted every distraction you could get at the moment, you decided to watch him bustle around instead of trying to focus on work. And what a perfect distraction he was, looking entirely adorable, his hair a little mussed and rumpled with sleep, careful with every single one of his steps, clumsily trying to open the cap of the water bottle, grumbling - probably about the fact his hands were absolutely pissing him off.

He had not paid your presence any more mind up until that point, but eventually gave up on the bottle cap, walked towards you and handed you the bottle with a pleading (albeit very tired) look. Stephen didn't speak his request out loud, but he didn't really need to – usually you liked having him ask and say 'Please' because it annoyed him to go the extra mile of niceties, though once in a while you had mercy.

You opened it for him in the blink of an eye and carefully returned it to his hands.

“Thanks”, he muttered. For a moment you thought, he might just have a sip and leave again. But then you noticed that he drank while staying real close by your seat and tried to catch a glimpse of what you were working on – it wasn't much, just a few scribbles on the screen, but still seemed to make him curious.

"That looks... not like something I'd expect from an actual graphic designer", he worded politely, though his cockiness seeped through, regardless of his exhausted state, “Let me guess. Couldn't get any sleep?”

"Nope, my body decided to betray me and I couldn't fall asleep. Now I'm just... here, doing work, because I might as well be productive", you sighed, obviously not planning to tell him about your frustration with another kind of handiwork, “But you can see how well that's going. It looks pathetic.”

"Is the couch getting too uncomfortable perhaps?", Stephen wondered. You almost snorted. It was definitely not the couch bothering you. “And by the way that looks, I doubt you'll get any further with your creativity tonight.”

"Yeah well, just a couple more days of suffering and Christine will be back and then I can finally go home to my own bed, while you can get on her nerves instead", you therefore replied, paying him a tired smile in response, trying to match his teasing nature, “Or she on yours. Probably both.”

"Already tired of playing caretaker?", Stephen joked, placed one of his bandaged hands on your shoulder and squeezed it gently, “And here I thought you liked me.”

"Don't blame me for thinking you are a horrible patient", you rolled your eyes at him, "Are you gonna bother me much longer or may I go back to work?"

"Actually, let me be the reasonable one for once. I have an idea", Stephen contemplated and by the way his tone suddenly shifted, you were almost expecting it to be a very suggestive one.

"How about you stop working and come join me in bed? You need some rest too, considering you'll have to deal with me for a few more days. There's space enough for the two of us, it's much more comfortable than the couch and maybe the presence of another human being will allow you and me both to finally get some sleep. I call that a win-win.”

You tried real hard to keep a neutral look on your face, not giving away that you were somewhat entertained by the suggestion, but also slightly confused.

Had you expected this coming from Stephen? No, certainly not. You didn't mind, but were still conflicted, because you couldn't tell whether it was actually meant to be so suggestive or just an innocent offer. Maybe he was really just trying to accommodate you in order for you to have a good rest, since he was the one getting on your nerves so very often.

Though it did sound like he wanted you near too, as if it would also help him to get some better sleep as well.

Stephen looked worried when you didn't answer immediately, like he feared he had made you uncomfortable. In truth he had simply rendered you speechless.

You caught yourself somewhere amidst the awkward silence between you. Instead of giving him an answer he was most certainly dreading, you let your actions speak, closing all of your programs and shutting off your laptop.

It was a silent agreement, but he sure understood.

It wouldn't do any harm, would it? Sleeping next to Stephen might be nice, just to have the comfort and warmth of another person might be enough to actually lull you to sleep, and it wasn't like this was crossing any more boundaries along the lines of friendship, considering you had jerked him off two days ago without a second thought.

Sharing a bed was nothing worth mentioning in contrast.

Your only concern was your current sexual frustration, something that might be intensified by the presence of a very attractive man and the proximity you'd get to enjoy while sleeping in the same bed – you would definitely not try to masturbate next to Stephen and if you were lucky enough, then maybe sleeping next to him would end up being just as relaxing as a possible orgasm.

Well, apparently you were going to find out.

As soon as you got settled into bed next to Stephen, sheets and pillows smelling delightfully fresh, of course a little like him, you let yourself be embraced by the warmth of the blanket immediately, sinking into the soft mattress. Heavenly. Definitely better than the couch, though the choice of furniture had certainly not been the underlying issue anyways.

Laying in a comfortable bed, suddenly feeling the dead tired weight of your limbs and your eyes dropping as well, you stopped worrying altogether.

There was not even a whim of discomfort in this moment, even though you hadn't shared a bed with anyone for months. Especially sharing it with Stephen, you had expected to find it perhaps odd, but now that you lay there – it was just fine. The exhaustion did its part.

You bid good night to one another and it took you mere minutes after closing your eyes until you were drifting off...

•

You could have sworn you had fallen asleep laying on your back, with an appropriate amount of distance between two people considered friends, but in your process of awakening you quickly noticed something was a little off.

Apparently you had rolled over onto your side at some point during the night, which wasn't that seldom. It was just a lot more comfortable than sleeping on your back. But that wasn't all.

You also undeniably found yourself in a warm embrace that wasn't just a blanket on top of you but an arm draped over your form and a warm body pressing up to your backside.

Oh lord.

Getting spooned in the morning had sure not been on your list for the day (or at all, as of lately), but you didn't bother to complain or even make the slightest attempt of moving away, no matter how much the initial realization startled you. Having Stephen near was kinda nice, more than you could have imagined.

It didn't feel wrong.

As this was probably the only cuddle you were going to get for a long while, you might as well enjoy it. It made you wonder though. He had likely just embraced you by accident, subconciously snuggling up to the one thing in his bed, but you wondered what his reaction might be like if he woke and noticed what was going on.

Would he be startled or entirely unfazed? Had it perhaps not been a subconcious decision at all? What if he had done this on purpose? What if he had wanted to hold you, feel another body close to his? Maybe that had been the reason for his invitation in the first place. But right now you couldn't find yourself to care too much about any ulterior motives and just let it happen.

Focusing on the sensations around and within you, you came to a few more realizations.

Stephen was a furnace, his presence alone incredibly warm. There was something comforting about his embrace, it was a protective but gentle hold, and you could probably get used to being cuddled in the morning by someone like him.

However, and worst of all – it was enough to turn you on instantly, to have his warm body pressed up to yours, the way he had claimed you all for himself, how right it felt.

You wanted to damn yourself for agreeing to his offer in the first place as it brought you into such a precarious position right now, but then again... you wouldn't want to risk missing the experience, would you? Besides that, it would never happen another time and you should enjoy it while it lasted – though if you both consented, perhaps it might not be the last time for you after all.

You greeted that idea. But this certainly crossed a boundary, a different one than having jerked him off. Allowing Stephen a sexual favor, for this one time, had been a friendly deed. You had wanted to make him feel better, because you cared for him, and you had accomplished just that.

But now, with his arm around you and you wishing to be able to experience this more often, you became uncomfortably aware that maybe being just friends would not be enough for you.

Because you wanted more. So much more. Especially right now.

It didn't help that Stephen was shifting behind you, drawing his arm around you tighter, pressing up to your back, his warm breath tickling your nape, obviously still fast asleep...

Your heart hammered in your chest, a familiar lust rushing to your loins, and you squirmed in interest, cautious to not press back into him in order to not accidentally wake him up. Because if you did and he became aware of what was going on, he would likely pull back and then this perfect moment would be over.

Or maybe not. But could you risk that?

If you surrendered to your own desire here, you might never be able to look Stephen in the eye ever again. Jerking him off had been a well-meant favor. Masturbating next to him would entirely be for your own gain and just wrong. But the temptation of doing something forbidden, the thought of maybe being discovered by Stephen... undeniably did something to you.

It wasn't like he had to know. For as long as he wouldn't wake, you'd be safe. It's not like you would use him for your own pleasure – no, he was just there and his presence was more than enough to feed your arousal. The rest, you could do yourself.

A little drowsy from sleep, you slid your hand down the pajama pants, over your underwear and eventually finding your evident excitement, letting fingers rub over yourself through the material. Seemed like this part of you was responding quite eagerly too.

God, with only noticing how touch-starved Stephen had been, you apparently had forgotten how starved for attention and desperate you were.

Alas, if you started touching yourself now, it would be twice as awkward for the man behind you to wake up and find you like that, but being so aroused, being so embraced too, you allowed to just let this take its toll.

Slightly ashamed, your cheeks burning with heat, breathing faster, you slipped your fingers under the remaining layer of clothing, brushing over your naked arousal, allowing yourself just a tiny bit of pleasure.

Going on like this, maybe for a handful of minutes, your fingers busy working between your thighs, trailing the spots that made you feel just right, trying hard to not shift or push back against Stephen, to not make too much noise, to not moan at how utterly excited you were and how your own touch might just be enough to finally get you to the edge, you nearly found yourself forgetting about being in a presence of another person.

Unsurprisingly so, it scared the shit out of you when Stephen suddenly stirred and moved, gently placing his bandaged hand on your forearm, a very definite sign that he was awake.

Oh no.

You stopped the movements immediately and by god, another hole in the ground opening up and swallowing you whole would have been great now. Your face must have literally been flaring red in your current state of embarrassment, burning with heat, and your entire body tensed. Rather awkwardly, you tried to remain as still as you could, pretending that you had not just touched yourself.

But he wasn't a fool, obviously. You sure were, hoping this would go unnoticed. What in heaven's name had you been thinking? And what was going to happen now?

Was he urging you to stop, but wouldn't mention it to you, letting the weight of silence consume the moment and ruin your arousal? Maybe he'd just let the moment pass and you could continue on to be friendly with each other, without ever demanding to talk about this? You'd greet that.

But could there be any chance he might just be okay with this? What if he'd be disgusted, resentful or would ridicule and tease you about this forever on?

You wished for the whole world to come crashing down just about now and spare you the embarrassment...

But then he spoke up, with the low rumble of his voice, warm breath brushing against the back of your neck, something that didn't help your arousal at all. "You know, you could have just told me that you're also desperate and need some relief. I wouldn't have judged."

"M'sorry", you sighed, pulling your hand out of your pants in utmost shame, Stephen's closeness and his careful touch on your arm burning into your skin, "I know I shouldn't have... but... I've just been struggling with getting off... and... I guess being held by you... just kinda did it for me. Not to say that you turn me on, I just... god, this is ridiculous."

"Oh come on, is it really so ridiculous?”, Stephen hummed, sounding very amused about this situation as a whole, "You jerked me off, remind you not that long ago, and this... is actually kind of hot. Having an adorable little minx like you in my bed trying to get off, too afraid to admit that they're turned on, too shy to ask for assistance. Sounds like a dream to me."

"More like a nightmare, being caught in the act", you turned your head to smush it further into the pillow. Why were you even having such a casual conversation right now? You, in this odd state between complete embarrassment and relentless arousal, and Stephen, having woken up to this, seemingly unfazed.

You should have just rolled out of bed and left the situation, hoping that Stephen would never mention it again and spare you any further shame.

Perhaps it was only fair – you had accidentally witnessed Stephen trying to masturbate and now he had discovered you. You were in an odd way even. Not that it made this any better.

"Do you want any help with that? I owe you something, don't I?", he asked, instead of letting it rest though, his voice still gravelly and low from sleep, his hand brushing over your arm in a comforting motion. Speaking of being suggestive...

"Fuck all the way off. You don't owe me anything", you replied, of course. You didn't want Stephen to feel like he had to offer you anything in return for the favor you had so willingly given, even though you obviously didn't actually mind the idea of it. Damn it.

He wasn't the type of person to be entirely selfless, so with offering something like this... maybe he wasn't opposed to the idea of being in more sexual situations with you and you didn't really know what to think about this.

Though you might not want to go as far as having sex with the man already (if ever) and while his hands might be a bit of an issue, you had no doubts it would be worth it, whatever he had in mind.

God, if Christine ever found out about this... she'd probably make fun of both of you, thinking you were absolutely ridiculous - which you no doubt were, dancing around each other and clutching onto the boundaries of a normal friendship, when you could perhaps be so much more if you were just bold and brave enough.

"Would it make this situation better if I wanted to help you?", Stephen admitted to you, sounding unsure, "I wasn't lying when I said I think it's hot."

"And we won't talk to anyone about this?", you asked.

"Not a word. Promise", Stephen confirmed, pressing up to your body from behind, his breath still ghosting over your neck, sending a whole different kind of shiver through you when his lips softly brushed your nape, "I'm just afraid my fingers currently won't be good enough to please you. But I have an idea."

"And if I may ask, what kind of idea might that be?" Curiosity killed the cat after all. You were still so horny you might have accepted any offer of pleasure, even though unsure whether it was wise, but you were looking forward to pick a piece of his mind, to find out what filthy thoughts he might harvest. He seemed so willing to do this, for whatever reason – and you yourself began wondering if all of this was just a dream, made up by your subconscious desires.

"You'll figure it out. Turn over", Stephen spoke and eased his embrace – and so you did, rolling onto your other side, facing him, who was watching you with a mischievous glint in his eyes and a rather soft sleepy smile. You couldn't possibly tell what was crossing his thoughts and looked at each other for a quiet moment, since you didn't know what to expect or how to act next.

“If we're going to do this my way, you need to strip. At least get out of your pants”, was the subtle order that followed up – and so you did, even though followed by a little awkwardness, deciding to shuffle out of your pajama pants and underwear, still hidden from his gaze by the blanket resting over you. It didn't save you from feeling slightly self-conscious, a thousand thoughts running through your head.

What was he planning? What was he going to suggest next? Why was he doing this for you? Would you like it? And what would that mean for your friendship?

"Don't be shy. Come get on top of me", Stephen announced the third step and leisurely turned onto his back, appearing oddly expectant. You faltered, eyes widening at his suggestion. He wasn't expecting you to... he wasn't asking for sexual intercourse, was he?

Noticing your second guessing, his gaze softened and he smiled at you, assuredly. “You can trust me. If you don't like it, we can stop any time. But I'm thinking you might just enjoy it.”

“I just...”, you began. Your curiosity was catching up on you. You would have liked to find out.

“Come on up. I'll be nice”, Stephen's smile turned into that self-satisfied grin you knew him for and whatever it was that had you convinced in the end, you decided to surrender yourself. He had given into you mere days ago and so easily, putting so much trust in you, convinced you were meaning well – and in return, you'd allow him the same trust.

So you did as he suggested, slowly pushing back the blankets to awkwardly scramble onto Stephen's lap, finding your usual confidence whisked away, oddly exposed. The man's gaze was raking over your body and for a moment you quietly watched him in the soft morning light, his smug face, pupils dilating with desire as he consumed the sight of you.

What now, you asked yourself, bracing your palms against his stomach, feeling his warmth, the subtle movement of his breathing, perched on firm thighs. Was he waiting for you to make the next move? You had no doubt that if you grinded down on him, it would feel good. Perhaps you'd even get him to harden as well, adding to his pleasure as much as to your own.

But something told you it wasn't quite what he had in mind – he was meaning to give you a favor.

"Good. Place your hands on the headboard instead", he instructed you next, waiting for you to do just that, "And now you come further up here."

You swallowed hard as you stared back down at him and the clear indication he had just made. "Do you mean I should...? Like... on your... face?"

A sharp and quick "Yes" was the only respond you got. So that's what was he had planned.

Stephen was apparently very pleased with his idea and before you had a chance to second-guess, he snuck his arms around your waist, pulling you forward instantly, urging you to shuffle up until your knees were resting on the pillow, close to his head, and you were literally hovering over him, holding yourself up on the headboard.

You suddenly didn't dare to look at him and closed your eyes instead, contemplating just how unreal this situation was. Kneeling over him, you could feel Stephen's warm breath on your most private parts, his head between your thighs, and honestly, even that alone seemed too crazy to be true.

But this was really happening, wasn't it?

Only a broken moan escaped you when you suddenly felt Stephen's mouth on you, hot and welcoming, gently teasing, carefully sucking on your sensitive swollen sex, tongue lazily testing and probing all of you, to the point all your insecurities and doubts were whisked away.

"Fucking... fuck", you shuddered, clinging a little tighter onto the headboard immediately, careful not to crush the man under your own weight, but god... his mouth felt so good on you and Stephen was unashamed to taste every bit, exploring you, sometimes with the flat of his tongue, sometimes only giving you little flicks, paying more attention to those spots he had quickly figured how much you liked and humming in delight whenever he drew a reaction out of you.

You had known Stephen had a wicked tongue, judging by his snarky comments most of the time, but only now were you truly figuring out how skilled it was as well. He was downright devouring you, slow strokes of his flat tongue up and down, his mouth tasting you seemingly everywhere, sucking and licking and kissing, his tongue easing its way along every dip and curve, not leaving a single part of your arousal unattended.

Apparently he was trying to drive you mad too – just the right level of intensity, switching things up to keep you on edge, pausing, so you could only feel his breath ghosting over you, and you had to admit that you kinda deserved this torturous sweetness after having being cruel to Stephen himself last time. But god, how thorough and driven he was, all this to make you feel good.

At this point, it seemed a lot like the man wasn't too concerned with being smothered by you at all, hungrily pulling you further towards his own face, tasting you, lapping on you like a starving man, his heavy breath and scruffy beard tickling you. Nothing seemed to dampen his enthusiasm.

You couldn't remembered ever having someone as eager as him between your legs before and sank your head against the wall, unable to stop moaning, giving yourself over to the purest pleasure sparking within, Stephen's sinful mouth taking care of you like no one else ever had.

A whine left your lips just as Stephen's mouth parted from you, continuing to spread soft kisses and playful little bites on you inner thighs – as much as he could reach of them anyways – and you were so close to just grab him by the hair and lead him back to your aching arousal, if it meant he would continue to lick you.

It was just as intense when he returned to taste you with his tongue again.

Stephen didn't hold you back from grinding against his face either and you rolled your hips in time for the greedy laps of his tongue, chasing your orgasm just like this.

And when you came, gods, did you come hard.

It was seriously unreal, your entire body was suddenly trembling hard, you could feel the heavy jitters of your thighs taking over all of your body, moaning and panting, your brain was literally on fire, pleasure surging like electricity through your veins - and if that wasn't the literal definition of a mind-blowing orgasm, you didn't know what was.

You couldn't believe your own luck. A heavy weight was lifted off your chest, you felt carefree and light, floating in nothingness for a moment, mind entirely blank.

You must have carried a quite loopy smile, looking down at Stephen, having pulled back enough to let him breathe, not wanting to smother him altogether - because it would honestly have been a shame to get rid of him now.

But Stephen took it like a champ, entirely unfazed, just smiled back at you, hair still tousled from sleep, cheeks reddened, lips swollen red, mouth and chin glistening with saliva and slick of your arousal, a filthy reminder of what had just happened.

He looked damn pleased with himself and admittedly so, you were more than pleased with him as well.

Too weak in the knees to gracefully get off Stephen, you nearly tumbled backwards on top of him, almost crushing him with your awkward shuffling around. Your head was still a little too scrambled to word your satisfaction, but you were sure Stephen understood you quite well, even without words.

He seemed smug. Amused. There was this glimmer in his eyes as he watched you climbing off his body. You felt the urge to simply whack him with a pillow for his grin alone, but reconsidered.

Let him have a little joy. A little satisfaction. He seemed at ease and you loved to see it.

Coming to lay beside Stephen again, utterly tired and probably ready for another hour of sleep now that he had knocked this orgasm out of you, you found your own kind of enjoyment. Almost a sweet moment, if one ignored the fact you had just sat on his face mere minutes ago, and one you were willing to make the most of, for as long as it would last.

Instead of simply fleeing the scene like last time, you closed the distance to cuddle up to him, placing your head on his chest and a hand to his stomach, happy with the fact that the man accepted your affections and went on to hold you in his embrace. He seemed content and as you shut your eyes, fully welcoming his comforting warmth to lull you back to sleep, you swore you could feel him press a soft kiss to the crown of your head.

For now, it was more than enough. But who knew where this little encounter would eventually take the two of you?