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goes-whump-in-the-night · 2 months ago

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🧜🏻‍♂️ - merfolk or aquatic creature & 🥶 - freezing + 💥 - caught in a trap OR 🧜🏻‍♂️ - merfolk or aquatic creature & 📌 - pinned to something + 🍽 - starvation

craving

Synopsis: Even fish food starts to sound appetizing after a week.

Content Warnings: mer whump, lady whump, lady whumper, leash & collar, training, starvation, vomit

Author Notes: Of course I'm gonna go with starvation - because apparently everything I do with Nyma is food related.

A month after she was caught and dragged up to face the horrors of the surface world, Nyma was still dreaming of home.

She still dreamed of the dark, soothing safety of the waters she had grown up in.

She still dreamed of her parents, and her siblings, and of the community of merfolk who had raised her.

She still dreamed that one day, not too far away, she would be returned to the place she belonged.

A more cynical or worldly individual might have given up hope already, or at least purposefully put such thoughts aside to save themselves the heartache it brought, but Nyma had not yet been so changed, despite the cruelty she had suffered. She was young, and she was hopeful - or naive and foolish, others may say less charitably - and she still believed Vivienne would keep her word.

Her mistress had promised that as soon as Nyma had done enough to pay back what Vivienne had paid for her "rescue," she would let the mer go, and so, regardless of how little understanding she had of human currency and what it took for her to earn any, Nyma was still certain that someday, she would be free once again.

But even if she didn't believe this so ardently, it would still be hard for her not to dream of freedom when her own had been curtailed so severely.

For a week now, Nyma had been stuck to the top rung of the ladder that led down into her tank. The heavy iron chain and even heavier iron collar around her neck kept her from swimming more than a few feet away from it. She'd needed the first few days just train herself out of every instinct she had to be moving constantly, and until she'd managed that, every jarring clank of her chains had been a humiliating reminder of the punishment she'd brought on herself.

Because none of this would be happening if she'd just done better.

"I can't believe I'm having to waste so much of my precious time dealing with all your whining, Caly," Vivienne had told her, standing at the top of the tank with her arms folded as Nyma's trainers fitted her with her collar and "leash." "My food isn't good enough for you. My trainers aren't good enough for you. Next thing, you're going to be asking me to fill your tank with bottled spring water."

Even though Nyma was still in her tank at the time, she was too terrified to try to argue with her mistress. Her neck had been collared on that night too, and having another one placed on her was making her sick with fear.

"If you've decided not to be grateful for my generosity, then you can try to live without it," the woman said as a padlock connected the last link of her chain to the first rung of the ladder. "And maybe - maybe, I'll decide to be generous again once you've learned exactly how grateful you should be."

Nyma had not grasped the full implications of this threat as her mistress and trainers left her tank and shut the door behind them. She thought the chain and collar and how they forced her to float awkwardly at the water's surface was punishment enough. She couldn't even manage to rest like this, constantly needing to adjust her position to keep the collar from covering her gills, so surely - surely, her mistress would return soon so she could properly apologize for failing her.

But a day passed.

Two days passed.

Three days passed, and no one - not her mistress, not her trainers, and most importantly, not even the cleaner who always threw in her bucket of feed - came to visit her tank.

And just as Nyma managed to train herself out of any attempts to swim away, she began to accept that her punishment was twofold.

If she couldn't keep up with her training, then her mistress would not have her trained.

And if she couldn't finish the food she was given, then her mistress would not give her food.

When Nyma first came to this realization, she nearly gave in to despair. She had been slowly starving for weeks already, and the prospect of even less than that, watching herself wither away, was terrifying. How much more of her body must her mistress be willing to take from her?

Then, before she could give into her worst fears, a thought occurred to her. Her mistress wanted her to perform - so maybe if Nyma could show her she already knew how, then that would be her salvation.

Nyma began to sing.

She sang the songs she knew - story songs, songs of heroes, songs of storms, songs of hope. Songs of falling in love across oceans, songs of merfolk and humans who touched each other's lives from a distance, songs of returning home against impossible odds.

She sang every song she knew on the third day, even when she couldn't remember all the words, in the hopes that Vivienne would listen and hear how useful she could be.

When no one came by the fourth day, she sang on, hoping she would hear and have mercy on the hungry and desperate mer.

When no one came by the fifth day, she sang on, if only to keep herself company.

She couldn't remember if she sang on the sixth day. She had taken to clutching the side of the ladder to allow her exhausted body some rest, and that took all the strength she could muster.

On the seventh day, she was too weak to sing at all.

That was when Vivienne returned at last, to find her floating limply on her side, a pale patch of jutting ribs and elbows in the water. Nyma could barely even manage to lift her head at the sight of her mistress, the dizzying pain of her hunger taking the world out of focus as she did.

Her mistress was saying something, but Nyma couldn't manage to focus on the words. She tried to sing then - to show her all she had been working for, that she was trying, that she desperately wanted Vivienne's help to live -

Only to be slapped in the face with a cold, breaded fish cutlet as one of her trainers threw it at her in the tank.

"Let's fucking try this again," Vivienne called out, impatient already as a second cutlet hit the water before Nyma's shocked eyes. "You can eat that all and be grateful for it, or I can let you pout for another week. What'll it be?"

The preamble was unnecessary. Nyma had already grabbed both of the cutlets and shoved them down her throat, barely bothering to chew. She did the same with the next two that followed, and as she was gifted with her first meal in over a week, she swore to herself she would never let another bite go to waste.

Of course, the promise did nothing to stop her body from rejecting the sudden influx of food, spewing it back up looking much as it had going down.

It also did nothing to stop Vivienne from seeing this as another rejection of her charity.

But Nyma still had hope.

If only she could live on hope alone.

#whump writing #whump oc #mer whump #fantasy whump

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keicordelle · 2 years ago

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Chapter 4 of A First for Everything! A Light Sunburn, Nothing More. Urianger can't help but stare.

Read it on Ao3 at the link above, or check out the first chapter on Tumblr here.

The metallic clang of clashing weapons rang out over the fields of wildflowers, the crystal waters of Longmirror Lake glittering beneath the baleful glow of the ever-present Light overhead. Urianger picked his way carefully over the uneven ground, cautious not to crush too many of the pixies’ favorite wildflowers beneath his feet lest they replace all of his sugar with salt once again. It had been a learning experience, but one he was not keen to relive - all food was now approached with a certain amount of healthy caution. Tea was a decidedly less enjoyable experience when made with saltwater.

"Again," Thancred commanded as Urianger settled down in the grass a safe distance away. Minfilia sprang back, wiping at the sweat beading along her brow.

"Was that... Uh, was that okay?" she asked nervously, her eyes flicking over to where Urianger sat watching.

Thancred's lips flattened into a thin line as he weighed her. "Your posture's too stiff," he said after a moment, stepping in to correct her. "And your grip is too tight on the hilts. You'll never be able to wield them properly clenching your fists like that. Just relax, let your little finger guide the blade, not strangle it."

Urianger watched as Thancred corrected her form, light touches to her back and arms to nudge her into position. He never touched her longer than he had to, quick motions that seemed efficient but disguised an undercurrent of reluctance. But he was thorough, and Minfilia accepted all the advice he offered her, silently adjusting her stance and her grip until Thancred was satisfied.

He stepped back, and they both resumed their fighting stances. "Alright. Again."

They clashed again, the staccato ring of metal resuming its bellicose song. It was truly a sight to behold, blades glinting in the Light as they slashed and parried. Thancred moved with brutal efficiency, his coat snapping behind him as he spun, neatly avoiding her daggers. He parried each of her strikes with the ease of a man who had spent his whole life with a blade in hand; that it was a different blade mattered little. If the gunblade had ever ill fit his grip, his troubles were long since resolved, and Urianger couldn't help but stare at the marvel of combat he presented.

"Enough," Thancred called, obeying some mental timer or signal Urianger was unaware of. Minfilia fell back, maintaining her battle stance - still waiting, still ready, despite the rapid rise and fall of her chest as she sucked in air.

Thancred shrugged free of his coat, dropping it into an unceremonious heap a few yalms back from their unmarked sparring ring. Even from here Urianger could see that sweat dripped in rivulets down his back, soaking through the thin black shirt that clung to his skin and trailing wet tendrils down the strong column of his spine. His muscles flexed beneath the fabric as he rolled his shoulders, throwing the hard planes of his back into stark relief. Had he always been this well-muscled? His body spoke of long hours spent in use, training and fighting and working. It was a body built by effort and necessity, and Urianger couldn't help but admire it and how much work he had put into honing it. No doubt Thancred would point out that his body was as much a weapon as the gunblade in his hand, if Urianger were to remark on it, and with the way Thancred’s triceps flexed as he flicked his weapon, he didn't doubt it was true.

Thancred swiped at the sweat that beaded on his brow before settling back into a fighting stance. It really is hot out here, Urianger noted. He tugged at his own collar as the two of them resumed their bout, his skin flushed by the heat and the sun. Could the Light impart a sunburn? He'd never even thought to wonder, but given the pinkish tinge to his chest, he was starting to think it could.

Urianger watched the play of Thancred's black-clad muscles with fascination as he fought, sipping idly at his tea to quench the thirst that parched his throat. Their every motion was so poignant, like ripples on the water's surface, every flick of his blade reflected in the elegant dance of muscles beneath flesh

Simply watching them was enough to make Urianger tired and thirsty, and though Thancred looked perfectly capable of fighting until the Light swallowed the shard, the strain was starting to show on Minfilia, her strikes losing their careful poise as their bouts stretched on beneath the cruel beat of the blinding Light.

When next Thancred called for them to reset, Urianger interrupted before either of them could push themselves further, uncurling himself from his position on the ground and dusting dirt from his robes. "Thinkest thou not that thou and thy dutiful charge merit a moment of respite? The day grows long and the warm climes refuses to abate. An afternoon spent in the cool waters of the lake would surely not be remiss. 'Twould be good for Minfilia to have the chance to relax." His gaze landed on Thancred, assessing, watching the tension that had once more crept into the powerful arch of his trapezius. "'Twould be good for you both."

Thancred opened his mouth to protest, the beginnings of a frown furrowing his brow, but Urianger's gaze slid over to where Minfilia was doubled over her knees, daggers held loosely in her hands and her face flushed with exertion. She sucked down air in hiccupping gasps, trying desperately to seem like she wasn't exhausted from her training. Thancred dragged a hand through his hair, mussing white locks damp with sweat into a careless mess atop his head. "You're right. We could stand to spend one afternoon not worrying about death and dismemberment." A half smile, one corner of his mouth twisting up in a deprecatory little curl. "That can't be good for a young girl."

"Nor a seasoned man."

That got a wry grin from him, his shoulders lifting in that full-bodied shrug of his. "Hey, who are you calling seasoned? I happen to be in the prime of my life."

Urianger's eyes raked down his body, drinking in the tight-fitting black shirt and the tighter body it clung to. They lingered at the narrow cinch of his waist, where the shirt vanished into pants that were more fitted than they had any right to be. He blinked, dragging his gaze back up to Thancred’s face. "So I see."

There's a startled gleam in his eyes, white brows lifted in surprise, and a hint of pink across his cheeks. The beginnings of a sunburn. Thancred chuckled, an awkward lilt to his voice, and Urianger’s brain caught up with his tongue. "Stop, you're gonna make me blush," Thancred teased before Urianger could rescind the comment. It was Urianger’s own face that flamed then, his tongue tying itself into knots as he tried to correct him, but Thancred brushed it off easily, scratching at the back of his head. "You're looking rather in your prime yourself."

Urianger bit his tongue against the myriad unhelpful comments that threatened to spill from it, his thoughts a jumbled mess as Thancred turned from him to announce to Minfilia the change of plans. What did that mean? What had I meant? Why did I say that? Twelve preserve me, it’s true, but we aren't the kind of- I’m not the type to say such things. Gods, I must look like such a fool.

Urianger still hadn't recovered by the time Thancred turned back to him, reaching behind himself to tug his shirt over his head. "I don't doubt the water would do you some good too. Why don't you come swim with us?"

Outside of his clothes, it became even more clear that his years on the First had honed his body into a singularly remarkable example of the hyuran physique. He wasn't bulky, trading the dense muscles many warriors sported for a leaner, roguish build that left him just as agile as he'd ever been, but with enough muscle on him to swing his gunblade with ease. He could probably have picked Urianger up and carried him in his arms if he'd wanted to, those strong arms curling beneath his knees and his back, one calloused hand gripping Urianger’s thigh and the other on his waist. Thancred’s core was strong and toned, his abdominals well defined beneath a soft canvas of tanned flesh and the carved lines of his obliques perfect for the sorts of dangerous feats of acrobatics Urianger was sure were commonplace in his line of work. Maybe. Or maybe Thancred just spent as much time working his body as Urianger did his mind.

Seven hells, he'd asked Urianger a question. What exactly had he asked? Oh, right. "I fear I am rather ill-suited to such aquatic pursuits." His cheeks burned with the admission, his eyes dipping low again to focus on the cleft of Thancred’s sternum, parting the impressive swell of his pectorals. A scar sliced across the left side of his chest, jagging between the fingers of two of his ribs. It looked new, the shining pink of the tissue in stark contrast to the smooth tan that surrounded it, standing out among the older, silvered marks that webbed across his body. That Thancred stood there before them was proof enough that there was no cause for worry, but even so... That was a dangerous wound. Would that I had been there to heal it for him.

Urianger only realized his mind had wandered again when Thancred's jovial voice cut through his reverie. "You can at least dip your feet in the water! It really is nice and refreshing. And don't worry, if anything threatens to sweep you away, I'll save you," he said with a wink. The same one Urianger had seen him use a hundred times to dazzle beautiful women. Having it turned on him... He supposed he could see why it had stolen the hearts of so many. It was disarming and charming, just roguish enough to make you excited but not nervous. Urianger’s pulse fluttered in his chest, high spots of color rising to his cheeks.

It was just unexpected, that was all. Urianger had watched him woo more women than he cared to count, but he'd never expected to find that charm turned on him. "Ah, I, er. Ahem. Perhaps another time," he deflected. "I shall remain here and watch over thy belongings."

Disappointment tilted Thancred’s brows, and Urianger couldn't tell if it was real or exaggerated for effect. "Another time, then. I'll hold you to that." His boots hit the grass by his coat, and Urianger was left to watch as he and Minfilia took to the water, perfectly at home within its aqueous embrace.

His eyes drifted over Thancred’s body, back to that heart-rending (almost literally) slash that cleaved over his breast. A half dozen others like it dotted his skin, bright and pink and new, marks left by this shard forever upon his body. Or at least on what passed for it here. And certainly having scars carved directly into your soul was worse than upon your flesh. Urianger’s fingers itched to touch them, to trace each one with soothing magics as if he could wipe away the cicatrine imprints with his touch. He couldn't, of course. Such feats of healing were far beyond the limits of his magics. He could knit together flesh rent beneath blades and bows, strip poisons from blood and augment the prowess of spells and strikes with the blessings of the stars, but once the body had healed on its own, there was little he could do to erase the scars left behind.

Not that the new marks were out of place on his skin. Old wounds littered his flesh like the pockmarked remains of a war-torn battleground, argent constellations shimmering against a sun-kissed backdrop. His whole existence had been spent laying his life on the line - for money, for love, for duty. That he yet lived was half a miracle, and one that grew increasingly likely to fail with each foray into enemy territory. He couldn't even manipulate aether anymore; he had no way to heal himself beyond what potions he carried with him, nothing but his strength and his wits to carry him home time and time again. He was strong, Urianger didn't doubt that. The smooth muscles rippling under his scarred skin were testament enough to his strength. But without someone - without Urianger - at his side to heal his hurts and provide him succor, how much longer could he stare down the merciless jaws of death? How much longer until that fetid maw breathing down his neck stole him away from Ur- stole him away? No, no. I won’t let it happen. I can help him. I can save him, if I but remain by his side.

Ah, what was he thinking? He couldn't save everyone. He knew that better than most. Thancred had fought and been hurt a thousand times before, and he surely would a thousand times again. It was no use to dwell on battles, past and future. Urianger was not his keeper, to follow him about and ensure he did not fall to his enemies’ swords. Thancred was more than capable of looking after himself - he would not have survived half as long as he had otherwise. Besides, Thancred had his tasks, and Urianger had his own. Eventually, Thancred would return to his wandering ways, and Urianger would stay here, working to save the world in his own way.

But. Urianger really would have liked to be able to travel with him. Thancred knew how to keep himself alive, that was certain. But were Urianger at his side, he would ensure he was safe.

Urianger sighed, watching Thancred shake water from his hair to splatter Minfilia with stray drops. Maybe someday they’d have the chance to travel together again and Urianger could turn his magics to Thancred’s attention. But for now, Urianger would have to content himself with sitting on the sidelines - and watching him.

[Chapter 5] | [Masterlist]

#ffxiv #thanuri #urithan #thancred #urianger #thancred waters #urianger augurelt #ffxiv fanfiction #my writing #first for everything #~K

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doggykingdom · 2 months ago

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The Science Behind No Pull Harnesses: How They Actually Stop Pulling

Leaving your dog behind is meant to be an enjoyable outing, not a constant struggle with your pet fighting the desire to yank you down the sidewalk. If you are tired of pulling, yelling, and getting yanked back and forth, chances are good that you've heard of no pull harness. But do you ever wonder why these types of harnesses work so effectively? Let's dive into the science and behavioral psychology behind no pull harnesses and how they actually work to stop pulling.

Learning the Origin of Pulling Behavior Dogs don't learn manners on a leash when they're born. Instead, most dogs pull because they're excited, curious, or have learned that pulling gets them to where they want to go faster. Back-clip harnesses or standard collars generally don't do much to prevent this behavior and can even encourage it. That's because when a dog pulls on a back-clip harness, the pressure will usually activate their natural opposition reflex—the desire to push against pressure. It's the same reflex that makes sled dogs pull harder when you pull back. So, the more you pull back, the more they pull. How No Pull Harnesses Break the Cycle A no pull harness is designed particularly to bypass that resistance reflex. The secret lies in its unique design. The majority of no pull harnesses use a front-clip mechanism that redirects the dog's forward motion. When they pull, instead of going straight ahead, they are deflected sideways. This sudden redirection of direction shatters their rhythm and momentum, making pulling futile and, ultimately, undesirable. This redirection method is physical—yes, but it also operates on behavioral science. Dogs are smart learners. When they realize that pulling is no longer an effective way to get them where they need to go, they start to adapt their behavior. Over time, with use and reinforcement, the dog comes to associate walking at your side with movement and comfort. It's then that good, consistent leash manners really start to develop. Why Comfort and Fit Are Important A no pull harness is not just about discouraging unwanted behavior; it's also about doing so in a humane way. A good harness is designed to put pressure on the shoulders and chest, never the neck region. This is vital, especially for dogs that like to pull hard. Collars place unrelenting pressure on a dog's trachea and spine, which can cause harm. A precise fitting no pull harness eliminates that danger and provides a safer, more comfortable ride for owner and pet alike. The adjustability and material of the harness also enter the picture. It should be comfortable and not tight, so you can walk in comfort but still maintain control. Good quality harnesses are made of material that breathes and features padded strap support to prevent rubbing and chafing on long walks, especially important in severe weather. Use with Other Gear Like a Winter Jacket for Dogs It's also important to think about how a no pull harness will fit in with other dog accessories, especially seasonal ones. For instance, during winter, most pet owners will use a Winter Jacket for Dogs to keep their pets warm. The jacket style must accommodate the harness. Choose jackets that are harness-friendly, with access points or specifically designed openings for leash clips. Layering the harness over a properly fitting winter coat keeps your dog warm and safe without compromising the no pull design's efficacy. Just be sure to check that both coat and harness fit snugly and do not shift on walks. Final Thoughts: Science Meets Simplicity The no pull harness magic is really not magic but science and thoughtful design. By understanding dog behavior and anatomy, these harnesses are a comfortable and effective answer to one of the most common complaints of walking. Paired with patience, consistency, and possibly even a snuggly Winter Jacket for Dogs on chilly days, a no pull harness has the ability to transform your walks into serene, calm events. And that's a win-win for you and your dog.

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showoffff24 · 3 months ago

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Your Guide to Effortless Style, Backed by Years of Fashion Expertise (Featuring SHOWOFFFF).

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After 15+ years in fashion, I can let you know that effortless style isn't always about being effortless, but it also implies being simple.

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alcinadimitrescuwu · 4 years ago

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A Modest Proposal (Alcina x Fem!Reader)

Premise: You finally muster up the courage to propose to Alcina Dimitrescu. But will everything go as planned?

Note: Even though we technically don't know Alcina's middle name, I gave her Carmilla as her middle name in homage to another beloved Sapphic vampire! :)

Warnings: blood. Steamy scenes her and there, but nothing NSFW.

As you take the last steps towards your mistress’s chambers you have to stop for a minute and take some deep breaths. The other maids had taken to giving you concerned glances all morning. Your nerves had been so fraught that a plate had slipped out of your sweaty hands and broken. You didn’t mind the stares. To everyone else, this is just an ordinary day. Not for you.

Today is the day you are going to propose to Alcina Dimitrescu.

However, you have some errands to run first. For that you are going to have to ask Alcina, ironically enough, for the rest of the day off.

You steel yourself, slap your cheeks to banish any last nerves and knock on the door.

“Come in,” you hear an elegant, mature voice call.

Lady Dimitrescu is seated at her secretary, lining up accounts for the month. Her brow is furrowed in concentration. Upon clearing your throat, she takes off her reading glasses and when she sees you a smile bursts across her face that takes your breath away.

After a year and a half of courting, you could still not believe that this beautiful woman was your lover. You take in her laugh lines and dimples, her slightly puffy cheeks that she hated but you found adorable, her carmine lips freshly painted, and her blue eyes with a corona of gold around them that you found absolutely mesmerizing.

She takes your hand and kisses your knuckles. “Yes, iubirea mea, what can I do for you?”

“I would like to take the rest of the day off if that’s alright with you,” you say in a rush.

She blinks, surprised, but then smiles. “I don’t mind. After all, you’ve been working so hard lately. Have you cleared it with the head maid?”

“Yes-” Before you can say any more, in an instant Alcina has bent down and taken you in her arms with your back against her ample bosom. You feel hot breath on your neck and her curls tickle your ears as she whispers, “We could spend the whole day together. How would you like that, pet?”

You find yourself lost for words as she moves your uniform collar and begins kissing your neck. You lean back and sigh. Her perfume is intoxicating. She moves one hand to your hip and the other begins to peel back your skirt.

You would rather do nothing more than to make love to Alcina on your day off, however there are other matters more pressing. It takes great self control to take her hands off of you. A look of hurt crosses her face. You turn around and give her a chaste kiss and hold her face in your hands. “Forgive me, darling. I would love to but I have some errands to run. May I see you later? Dinner, the usual time?”

Her expression brightens and she kisses you deeply. “I’ll look forward to tonight then,” she says, tucking a curl behind your ear.

You can only nod and when you turn around, Alcina gives you a playful slap on the bum. You look back at her and she gives you a devilish grin.

Closing the door behind you, you can’t help but let out a chuckle. Alcina’s libido, it seemed, could never be satiated. As you take a step you wince and rub your behind. That woman honestly didn’t know her own strength sometimes.

You wrap your scarf around you as you leave the castle grounds. It may be the dead of winter but you find yourself sweating from nerves. The Duke catches your eye and waves you over.

“Ah, Miss Y/N! Just the lady I wanted to see. Your package just arrived.”

You feel your breath catch but nod silently. He turns around and begins rummaging around in the store. You turn around so as to not catch a glimpse of the Duke’s massive behind and you freeze. Alcina is at the window enjoying her morning cigarette. And she is staring directly at you.

You whisper to him, “Wait.” Alcina is still looking at you as she’s taking a drag off her cigarette. Smoke wreathes her gorgeous face. You give her a nervous wave. She waves back and then hears the phone ring. With a grimace, she puts out her cigarette and steps back inside.

You turn back to the Duke. “All right. It should be fine now.”

The Duke smiles and then presents you with a box slightly larger than a normal engagement ring box. With bated breath you open the box and behold the engagement ring that you have bought for Alcina.

Getting the ring had not been easy. When the Duke had told you the price for an engagement ring, especially a custom-made ring for Alcina, you nearly cried with frustration. After all, the main purpose of you working at Castle Dimitrescu was to send back money for your aging parents. When you and Lady Dimitrescu had first begun courting and she learned of your family’s financial situation she had offered to send them money herself each month so you didn’t have to work. However, your pride would not allow it. Any money sent back to your home, you wanted to come from your labors.

Getting enough money for your parents while also raising money to buy the ring had been a long and arduous process. You had begun taking up extra shifts to make up the money. There had been many nights where you had fallen asleep on the sofa with a feather duster in your hand and Alcina had to scoop you up in her arms and carry you to bed herself. But looking in at the ring within the box, you found it had been all worth it. The ring is beautiful, around 14 karats of gold inlaid with rubies forming the House Dimitrescu crest. You are sure Alcina would love it. It had taken time to get the exact measurements of her ring finger. While Alcina was asleep, you had taken her left hand often and studied her ring finger making sure the ring fit snug but not too tight. To get the crest right, you had taken to drawing it over and over again in your off time before you had a drawing good enough to show the Duke to have it commissioned.

You look up and grin at the Duke with tears in your eyes. “Duke, it's beautiful!” you breathe. “Alcina- er, Lady Dimitrescu will love it!”

He pats your hand as you slip the box into your apron pocket. “Not a problem at all, m’dear! Good luck tonight!”

With that done, you head back to the castle. You practically skip back to the gates, taking out the box every so often and peeking inside. Your joy dissipates when you realize what the next item on your to do list is.

Asking for Lady Dimitrescu’s daughters’ blessing.

When you walk in, you actually run into them getting ready to go out. Bela smiles at you as she adjusts Daniela’s cowl on her traveling cloak. “Y/N! Good to see you! Mother told us you had taken the day off.”

Cassandra pipes up, “We were just going out to go hunting! Want to come with us?”

“Actually I wanted to talk to you all about something,” you say as you look around the foyer for any sign of the girls’ mother. “Is there somewhere private we can all talk? Preferably somewhere your mother doesn’t frequent?”

Daniela’s eyes glitter mischievously. “Oooh, keeping secrets are we? Come on, I know a perfect place we can hide!”

Daniels leads the pack to the library. “Mother usually practices her singing around this time,” she says over her shoulder. “So there’s not a chance she’ll overhear anything you say.”

Sure enough, you hear Lady Dimitrescu’s voice singing an elaborate coloratura from upstairs. Perfect.

Daniela’s hands run over the panels in the wall. “Now where is it….Aha there it is!” Daniela picks up a loose panel on the wall and puts it to the side. She steps in and backons the rest of you forward.

There is no light in this room save for torches every couple meters. The room can’t be much more than 6 feet tall, so there was no way Lady Dimitrescu could fit in properly. “We used to hide from Mother here all the time as children,” Daniela winks conspiratorially at you.

Cassandra begins jumping up and down excitedly. “Now what’s the secret? Tell us! Tell us!”

You take a deep breath and then let it out. “All right...Tonight I am planning on proposing to your mother and-”

You are cut off by the girls’ cries of jubilation. Daniela runs over and gives you a big hug. Bela has burst into happy tears. Cassandra continues jumping up and down and chanting, “Bonus mom! Bonus mom!”

You can’t help but laugh. “Does that mean I have your blessing?”

“Of course!” they yell in unison.

Bela says excitedly, “The ring! Do you have a ring?”

Blushing furiously you nod and take out the black velvet box and open it. They “ooh” and “aah” and take turns looking at it before they finally relinquish it back to you. As you put the box back into your pocket, you say, “Well girls, I need to start getting ready. Please make sure not to do anything to arouse your mother’s suspicions. I want it to be a surprise.”

The girls nod their assent, but Cassandra interjects, “Do you need help getting ready? We want you to be looking your best for tonight!”

Everyone enthusiastically agrees and you can’t help but smile fondly at the girls. You may be closer in age to them, but ever since you had begun courting their mother, you loved them like they were your own children. “All right, if you insist.”

The girls cheer and Cassaandra takes you by the hand and leads you back to your room to get ready.

15 minutes before your meeting with Lady Dimitrescu you take a look in the mirror. The girls truly outdid themselves on your makeover. Daniela had curled your hair and it hung in ringlets over your shoulders. Cassandra had given you one of her dresses, a red column dress that was backless with a plunging neckline. This wasn’t the sort of thing you would normally wear, but you had to admit the silhouette was very flattering, highlighting your natural curves. The best part: it had pockets large enough to hide the ring box! Bela was on makeup duty, giving you wingtips sharper than Alcina’s claws and a smokey eye. You spritz on some rosewater perfume and head out. As you pass the hall mirror, you consider putting your hair up in a chignon but think better of it. Alcina had always liked your hair best when it was down.

When you are at the door to Alcina’s chambers you take a deep breath before knocking on the door. “Come in, iubirea mea,” Alcina’s voice purrs within.

You head inside and Alcina has her back turned on you, lighting the candelabras at the table she has set up for you two. “I’ve needed this, my love. You should’ve heard what that fool Heisenberg-”

She stops and stares at you. You can’t help but feel self-conscious as she takes you in. She finally sets the candlestick she was using to light the others back in the candelabra and heads purposefully towards you. She scoops you up in her arms and kisses you deeply, burying her hands in your curls. She breaks the kiss and strokes your cheek. “You look beautiful,” she says breathlessly.

You can’t help but blush at the compliment. “So do you,” you reply as she sets you down gently, praying she doesn’t hear the box rustling in your skirts. She takes your hand and leads you to your seat where she pulls out your chair for you. You take her hand that is resting on the back of your seat and kiss it.

Dinner proceeds as normal at first. You listen to her talk about her day, which takes your mind off the proposal for a bit. Then she puts it at the forefront of your mind when she says, “I saw you talking to the merchant this morning. Did you have anything special coming in?”

Your mouth goes dry. How do you respond to that? “Oh, no. He just wanted to chat. You know how he gets!”

Alcina purses her lips but nods eventually. “Indeed.”

Awkward silence settles over you for a bit. Then she begins talking again, this time ranting about Heisenberg and you almost sigh in relief. This is easy. You just have to listen and agree with whatever she says.

“And then do you know what that fool called me? He called me a ‘simp’ for Mother Miranda! I didn’t even know what that was. I had to ask my daughters and when they told me of course I was infuriated.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I mean, a simp? Me? Ha! Imagine! He’s just jealous because he wishes that he had half the devotion that I have for her!”

“Uh-huh.”

“Do you think I’m a simp?”

“Uh-huh.”

She glares at you from across the table. Damn. She’s caught you.

You stumble over your words trying to correct your stupid blunder. “I mean, no! Of course you’re not a simp! Where would he get that idea?”

Alcina leans across the table and takes your chin in her hand, forcing you to look directly into her eyes. “Am I boring you, pet?” she asks, a dangerous edge to her voice.

“Er, no! No, I'm having a great time!” you say, smiling stupidly at her.

Alcina lets go of your chin and settles back in her chair, crossing her arms. Her stormy expression can’t disguise the look of hurt on her face. “You were the one that suggested we meet tonight, darling. I can’t see why you would want to if you’re not going to at least attempt to be present with me.”

“I’m sorry, darling. I-”

She turns away from you, her large hat blocking her expression. “Maybe you should go.” She gets up and crosses the room to open the door.

No, no, God, no this can’t be happening. This is your worst nightmare. You can’t let her open the door, you just can’t.

You practically fall to one knee. “Alcina!”

“What?” she snaps, turning her head toward you. Her expression softens as she sees that you are down on one knee with the box open. Her chest rises and falls rapidly as she says so quietly you have to lean to hear it, “Draga mea, what are you doing?”

You had a big speech prepared for this. But everything else has gone to hell in a handbasket, so you might as well get it over with. “Alcina Carmilla Dimitrescu, will you marry me?”

Alcina just stands there and stares. The tears that had been building in her eyes now spill over as she kneels down to your level and gives you a passionate kiss.

You smile against her lips and break the kiss. “Does that mean yes?”

“Yes, my darling,” she gives you a watery smile and caresses your jaw. “Yes.”

With trembling hands you take the ring out of the box and slip it on her left ring finger. She lifts her hand and inspects the new ring in the chandelier light. The rubies catch the light, nearly blinding you with their brilliance.

“How does it fit? It’s not too tight?”

She beams at you, positively radiating with joy. “It fits perfectly.” She then rises and heads over to her dresser and opens the top drawer. To your surprise, she pulls out a red box with the Dimitrescu family crest on the top. She sinks to one knee and presents you with an old, but beautiful ring. It must have been passed down through the Dimitrescu bloodline for generations.

Your face feels hot and you feel tears welling up in your eyes. She gently takes your arm. “Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?” She wipes the tears that have already begun cascading your cheeks. “It is tradition for House Dimitrescu to propose with the family ring to symbolize the unification of two houses. I had been planning to propose to you next week. You beat me to it, you clever girl.” She takes your hand and slips the Dimitrescu family ring on your ring finger. It is slightly larger than your finger, but you don’t care. You couldn’t be happier.

Alcina takes you into her lap and kisses you passionately. In between kisses, she queries, ”All those extra shifts you took. They were all for me?”

“Yes, my love,” you say breathlessly. “All for you.”

She stands up and takes you in her arms. You wrap your arms around her neck as she deepens the kiss, exploring your mouth with her tongue. You can taste salty tears on her lips. She carries you over to the bed kissing you the whole time and sets you down gently. She kneels over you on the bed and you rest your leg on her hip. The slit in your skirt rises up, exposing your stockinged leg. After putting her hand gently on your shoulder, Alcina begins kissing your neck. You lean back into the cushions and sigh.

You hear a low moan in her throat, almost like a whine as she kisses your pulse point. You don’t say anything; you just nod. Soon enough you feel the sharp but familiar sensation of Alcina’s fangs piercing your neck. She holds you against her body and you bury your hands in her curls, causing her hat to fall off. Briefly taking her hand off your shoulder, she slaps the hat aside like it was so much rubbish. You take pleasure in every sigh, every moan, every exclamation you elicit from her as she drinks. When she finally stops drinking she wipes her mouth and gives you a seductive smirk. “Good girl,” she purrs.

Alcina’s mouth is on yours again as she undoes your halter while you unhook her garter. She breaks the kiss and cradles your face in her hands. “Te iubesc, draga mea.”

You take her hand and kiss it while saying, “And I you, Alcina.”

The two of you make love until the sun rises the next morning.

#alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #re8 village #daniela dimitrescu #bela dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu #re8 fanfiction #lady dimitrescu fanfic #lady dimitrescu x reader #alcina x reader #alcina x maiden #lady dimitrescu x female reader

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littlesniggy · 4 years ago

Note

Hi! Idk if you’re already at Wano Kuni and if not please just ignore it but would you consider doing either nsfw headcanons or scenario for Kaido? Maybe some female pirate tries to take him down and he keeps her as a pet? You can make it dark if you want to!

Love your writing so so much!

There is always a first time for writing for a character and yes, I've almost caught up with the latest episode so I know enough about Kaido. It was a challenge to write for him though since I haven't really thought about his sex life, what he likes and what he doesn't, so I'm not sure if this might be a little ooc? But I hope you still enjoy it!

Warning: 18+, nsfw, dub-con!!, Master/pet, mention of humiliation, mention of violence

Pairing: Kaido x pet female! reader

Word count: 2.2k

“Worororo.” His deep voice rumbled through the huge cave, echoing from the cold walls and making you feel like you were standing in front of a monster. Well, technically he was a monster; especially in his dragon form and even like this was he simply a mountain of a man. What were you thinking when you decided to take him on? Did you really think you had a chance against the strongest creature? How foolish could you be?

The emperor was sitting on his huge throne, a bottle of sake in his hand, drinking it like it was water. You were amazed as to how he could drink this much and still be able to fight. When you tried to take him on you thought you had a chance once he was flat out drunk – but you were gravely mistaken.

“C’mon. Try again.” He laughed, his eyes watching you in amusement. You were panting heavily, stray strands of hair clinging to your face. You were sweating like a pig. If it was because of the heat or your futile attempts at hurting the man in front of you, you weren’t sure and you didn’t care. You got even angrier at his mocking tone; to the point he made you feel helpless.

Gathering the last bit of strength you had left in your body you punched him right in his face; there wasn’t even a slight crunch indicating a broken bone. But your hand hurt instead. “Fuck!” you cursed, holding your fist; tears of humiliation and pain gathered in your eyes and you averted your gaze, not wanting him to see your tears.

“So weak….it’s almost pathetic.” He chuckled, taking another huge sip of booze. “Is this all you’ve got?” when you didn’t answer, he let out a disgusted sound of disapproval, his expression changing from amused to displeased.

“No will to fight, no devil fruit power – I should just kill you to save you from this miserable life.” His hand searched for his huge mace, finding it and swinging it as a warning. You looked up, your eyes following the weapon warily but you suppressed the urge to flinch. You felt his eyes on your form, a contemplating look on his face.

Suddenly, he stroke out, the mace swinging towards you at an incredible fast speed, ready to strike you with full force. You shut your eye tightly, held your breath and waited for the impact that was sure to hit you – but it never happened. After what felt like an eternity you opened your eyes slowly, seeing the weapon only inches away from your face. Your whole body was trembling uncontrollably and your knees gave in, making you fall to the ground.

Fear clung to your body like a second skin and the tears you tried to hold back so bravely were now running down your cheeks, uncontrollable sobs leaving your body. I thought he’d kill me! You always thought you didn’t fear death; that you would welcome it like an old friend once your time came but GOD! – how much you had been mistaking! You didn’t want to die!

“Worororo.” The mace was slowly retreated and Kaido watched your sobbing form in front of him. “Are you scared of dying?” he asked, already knowing the answer. “I like the look of fear on your face. I want to see it more often.” His words made you shudder in fear. What does he mean? Didn’t he want to kill you?

He got up, weaving two steps to the side, the alcohol slightly clouding his senses. You didn’t date look up at the man in front of you, wishing he’d just somehow forget about you and let you leave but this was futile, you knew. Out of the corner of your eye you saw him reach for something out of your sight and shortly after something black was dropped in front of you.

“Put it on.” He demanded. Your eyes skimmed the black leather piece, decorated with small metal thorns. It was a collar! Incredulously, you took the collar in your hands, your fingers feeling the cold, stiff leather. Why did he have something like this?

“Put it on!” he got louder and you flinched at his demand. With shaky hands you put the degrading piece of ‘jewelry’ around your neck, the leather tightening around your throat and you felt like it was already choking you.

“Wororororo. Get naked. Pets don’t wear clothes.” Your body acted on its own and piece after piece dropped to the ground, exposing your over the years as a pirate trained body, some battle scars and slightly dried skin from the salty sea water. The emperor’s eyes wandered over your body while he took another huge chug of his sake before realizing it was already empty. Angrily, he smashed the empty bottle on the ground; you had to dodge some broken pieces that flew in all directions to not get hit.

“Bring me new booze!” he yelled at you, his furious eyes piercing you. Your body was frozen in place and you couldn’t move, even if you wanted to.

All of a sudden, you were choking in his grip, legs in the air, struggling for support, your hands clawing at his huge hand.

“Useless pet.” He growled, his grip tightening around your neck, the thorns of your new collar poking into his hand but he barely felt anything. Since his hand was so huge he was not only choking you but also crushing your upper body with his iron grip. You felt that your bones were about to break, pain rushing through your body. You couldn’t decide what you should focus on first; your lack of air filling your lungs or the quiet crunching of your body.

Kaido’s eyes narrowed at you, then they looked past you to an entering subordinate. “Kaido-sama, I-“ but he was cut off. “Bring me more booze!” the emperor ordered the man, walking back to his throne, your body like a doll in his huge hand. At least his grip eased a little, giving you room to breathe properly again.

He sat down and placed you on his thigh, his hand moving down from your neck and upper body to your hips, his grip holding you in place. You weren’t sure how to behave but you knew for a fact that any wrong movement would trigger this unpredictable man and you weren’t keen on finding out what else he would do to you.

The first time he took you it was hell. He took you to his bed and you knew what he wanted to do even without telling you. He ordered you to get on your knees on his bed. When you tried to fight him he simply pressed you down with ease. You heard a rustling noise behind you and out of the corner of your eye you saw how he took out his huge member and your breath caught in your throat. This is never going to fit! Your mind screamed and you just wanted to get away from him. But it was futile.

He wasn’t a big talker during sex and he didn’t appreciate it when you pleaded with him to let you go, to go slower and give you some time to adjust. It hurt like hell and after he was done your body was a giant ball of pain. Your body was covered in his cum and he just pushed you out of his bed, telling you to get lost.

The times after that were no better. Each time, he thrusted into your body like it was some kind of sex doll, pressing your face into the mattress to shut you up. His deep grunts were the only sounds that filled the room and to your dismay he wasn’t someone who came fast. It was an ordeal.

The first time you had to suck him off your jaw just locked and you couldn’t close it afterwards. It took a while and a lot or effort and pain to be able to close it again. Kaido just watched you in amusement, his cum dripping out of your mouth and dripping onto your exposed chest.

Kaido had also no shame in getting walked in on, just continuing with either fucking your mouth or pussy while his subordinates just awkwardly telling him the latest news. It was humiliating but there was nothing you could do about it.

Over time, you got used to his treatment and had learned to ‘always be prepared’, as bad as it sounded. You had realized that it was bearable when you stretched yourself beforehand. Was it humiliating? For sure. Was it necessary? Absolutely. Kaido once caught you stretching yourself and since then he had you do it in front of him. He liked the show.

You were on all four again, your rear exposed to the emperor behind you, your core already dripping. Kaido took his place behind you, his hand stroking his erect dick lazily. His other hand was holding the bottle of booze, taking a huge gulp. You felt his dick press against your entrance, pushing further and further until the tip disappeared inside of your pussy. You grabbed the bed sheet with your hands, trying to relax around his member.

With a fast snap he buried himself inside of your body completely, taking another gulp of his booze. Some of it dropped onto your back, the cold liquid giving you goosebumps. His hand found its way into your hair, grabbing it uncomfortably tight. His hips started to move against your body, hard and merciless. He was only chasing his own orgasm and he didn’t care if you enjoyed it or not.

A clatter echoed through the room and you saw the bottle burst into a thousand pieces. His now free hand found its way on your hip, pressing you against his body. His dick was filling you out and the sheer force of his thrusts made your body jerk back and forth on the bed.

Kaido let his nails rake down your body, leaving red and bloody streams on your skin. You arched your back, clenching around his dick in response. Kaido raised his eyebrow at your response and chuckled. His pace got faster and his hand on your head pressed your upper body down on the bed, his body leaning over yours, his other hand supporting his weight on the bed next to your head.

“Ah!” you panted, a seemingly long forgotten feeling spreading through your body – lust. The emperor’s fierce thrusts actually made you feel good! – and you didn’t know what to do. Never would’ve you imagined that this brutal man could actually manage to please you, even though it probably wasn’t his intention at all.

The small pants became more frequent and turned into moans, the sound of raw skin on skin slapping against each other made your stomach tingle in excitement and for the first time you started to actively move against him.

Kaido was moving inside of you like a wild animal, his animalistic instincts taking over and he took you like a wild beast in heat. Apparently, he was quite fond of your moans since he didn’t press your face into the mattress as usually when he wanted you to shut up.

“K-Kaido-sama!” you moaned, trying to look at him over your shoulder but he wouldn’t let you. He huffed, a low growl rumbling through his chest and his grip in your hair tightened. The good feeling inside of you grew stronger and stronger, a tight knot forming inside of you, threatening to burst with each thrust.

Even in his drunken and animalistic state he noticed how your pussy started to tighten around his dick and he knew you were close. “If you wanna cum, cum. But don’t expect me to stop.” He warned you. It was the first time he actually talked to you while he was buried inside of you. A desperate moan left your body and you tried your hardest to prolong your own orgasm but each thrust made it harder and harder.

With a specifically hard thrust he finally pushed you over the edge. Colorful spots spread across your vision, blurring your surroundings as you cam hard around his dick, your walls clenching and unclenching. A loud moan filled the room when you came, your body trembling due to the sheer force.

But Kaido wasn’t done yet. His stamina was impressive, really, but right now you hated him for it. The high you were just on slowly faded away and his hard thrusts brought you back to reality. You wanted to complain, to tell him to stop but you knew better. As uncomfortable as the feeling right now was, he was in a good mood. And you would be the most stupid person to try and change that.

When he finally came with a low grunt on your back he didn’t push you out of his bed immediately. He was lying next to you on the bed, his breath already even again. There was a silence between the two of you for a moment, before his deep voice broke it.

“Bring me more sake. I’m getting sober again.”

#one piece #op #op imagine #ns.fw #dub.con #kaido #op kaido #kaido x reader #straw hats #op x reader #master/pet #x reader #female reader #mention of violence

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illfoandillfie · 4 years ago

Text

Kinktober Day 6: NonCon (+Bondage +Overstimulation)

Kinktober Masterlist | Regular Masterlist

Pairing: Fairy!Lucy x Fem!Reader, Fairy!Lucy x Fairy!Rami, Fairy!Rami x Fem!Reader (with small cameos from Fairy!Ben and Fairy!Gwil)

Words: 3,232

Warnings: NonCon, bondage, overstimulation, anal, anal training, oral (f receiving and m receiving + toys), throat training, sex toys (dildos/strapons/anal plugs), use of magic, begging, crying, creampie, cum swallowing, PIV, degradation, humiliation, orgasm denial, forced orgasms, loss of consciousness, mention of double penetration, mention of pimping reader out, mention of flogging.

A/N: As soon as I saw non/dubcon was one of the optional prompts for day 6 I knew it would fit with another chapter of the Fairy AU! But, I also really liked bondage and overstimulation, so I decided to just incorproate all three into this one chapter lmao.

As with the rest of the Fairy AU, this can probably be read as DubCon but in this one Reader does use words like ‘no’ and ‘stop’ so I’ve categorised it as NonCon. Please don’t read if that isn’t your thing.

Lucy had taken Gwilym’s suggestions for training you seriously. By the end of the week he’d supplied her with three dildos, each one larger than the last, which had been stuck to the wall of your room. Every day you had scheduled training time in which you’d kneel on the floor and fellate the toys, learning how to handle them better, supervised closely by one of Lucy’s staff or by the Queen herself. She would reward you when she felt you’d made sufficient progress and punish you when you didn’t. Once, while she was watching, you’d gagged and choked too much as you’d attempted to deepthroat the smallest of the dildos, and so she had flogged you before forcing you to try again, plainly unmoved by your tears.

In addition to the dildos, Gwilym had also supplied an anal plug (with the promise he could get a larger one when you were ready for it), and since then you’d been perpetually full. The end of it was marked by a jewel – similar in colour to the shimmery beads which hung from your collar – and was clearly visible through the sheer dresses Lucy clothed you in. You weren’t permitted to touch it. Lucy gave permission to remove it so you could use the bathroom and wash or so you could be fucked, but otherwise you had to endure the constant fullness of being plugged. Rami, for his part, thoroughly enjoyed your new training regime. When Lucy had passed on the suggestion that he should use your throat and arse more frequently, he’d been quick to agree, and you couldn’t remember a day since that he hadn’t made good on his word. Though neither he nor Lucy had entirely stopped using your cunt. They’d discovered the joys of penetrating you at the same time, treating it as a something for them to do as a couple. They felt that by fucking you simultaneously it could bring them closer together and, so far, it seemed to be working. The chamber maids and staff in the castle whispered about it as they worked, gossiping about how loved up the royal couple seemed, speculating if that meant a child would soon be on the way. Of course you knew that a pregnancy was unlikely considering Rami usually filled you with his seed. Even when he fucked Lucy he’d more often than not finish inside you. Lately he'd favoured your throat, his cock tasting of Lucy as he held your nose and forced you to swallow. Another part of your training.

Even in your off hours, when both of your masters were otherwise occupied, you couldn’t escape the constant feeling of being full, the plug inside your arse stimulating you as you walked through the corridors. Once, while going about your business, you’d run into Gwilym and Ben. Gwilym had asked about your training and Ben had stepped behind you to see the plug. They’d drawn you into an empty room nearby and made you lift your dress and bend over so they could get a better look. You’d not wanted to, worried what Lucy would say, but the didn’t give you much choice and so you’d obeyed, trying not to let it affect you when they discussed how wet you were and what they’d like to do with your body. Ben seemed a touch jealous that Gwilym had used you already but at the same time he sounded pleased that when it was his turn to have you, you’d be better able to take whatever he decided to dole out. They’d eventually let you go but not before Gwilym interrogated you further about your progress since beginning training.

If Ben or Gwilym had ever mentioned their private meeting with you, Lucy had never alluded to it, and you’d never found the courage to mention it yourself. It was hard to know how she’d react. Instead you focused on being a dutiful pet. Quiet, except when you were being fucked, and obedient at all hours. If Lucy said it was time to practice your cock sucking skills, you’d kneel at the wall and suck until she told you to stop. If Rami entered your room after dark and rolled you onto your stomach, you’d press your arse into the air to make it easier for him. And if either of them ever asked if you were enjoying yourself, you told them you loved how it felt to be taught to serve properly. For the most part they were happy with your behaviour and your attitude to the new training regime. Lucy would coo about what a good pet you were as you ate breakfast in the courtyard and reward you with whatever trinkets your heart desired. Until you displeased her.

About a month or so into the training, Lucy decided you weren’t enjoying yourself as much as she’d like. “I was lenient when we started,” she said, pacing from one side of your room to the other as you knelt on the floor and wiped drool from your lips, “I knew this wouldn’t be easy for you, that everything would feel new and difficult. But we’ve been at it now for long enough that you should have grown to enjoy it more.” “I do like it,” you said weakly, but Lucy just scoffed and strode past you again. “Liar. You endure it. Which is fine. If enduring it is all you’re capable of then you’ll just have to endure it until I'm sick of playing with you. When I bind you in the gardens for the first night of the bacchanal you will endure every single one of my people who comes to use your holes. When I reward Benjamin for his loyalty by presenting him with your pliant body on a silver fucking platter, you’ll endure it. When Gwilym comes to assess your progress, you’ll fucking endure that too. But I’d like so much more to have an enthusiastic whore.” She paused in her pacing to regard you, “It’s no skin off my nose if you don’t enjoy what happens to you. But it would be in your interests to learn, not just to endure it, but to actively crave it.” “Yes Mistress,” you dropped your head as you spoke, trying to breathe naturally when all you felt was panic. “Come now, don’t cry pet. I think I can help you. We just need to give you better motivation. So, starting today, you are not permitted to cum unless you’re having your arse or throat fucked.” “My Queen?” “Don’t worry, pet, we’ll still take pleasure from your cunt. But you won’t. You’re going to learn to associate orgasms with anal and oral. We’ll start with just Rami and I but if I feel you need extra motivation then I can inform your minders to make you cum while you practice with the dildo wall. And if that doesn’t work then I’ll declare you a lost cause and let you suffer while we enjoy your services. Sound fair?” “Yes, Mistress, very fair.” “Good. Now let’s try it out shall we? Up on the bed, legs spread for me. And remember, no cumming.”

Lucy was true to her word. It was hard to adjust to, being edged while they played with your pussy, but they always made sure you had at least one orgasm while they used either of your other holes. In fact, Lucy was quite generous and would often magically remove your ability to orgasm so you didn’t have to worry about accidentally falling over the edge. And then she’d let you moan into her cunt while Rami filled your arse, taking away the spell so that Rami’s touching your clit made you cum with all the force of the orgasms you’d been denied before. You thought perhaps her plan might work. It was easier to feign excitement about both anal and fellatio when you knew that it was your only chance to cum and the more you pretended to like it the more you actually did start to like it. It was slow going though and you could tell Lucy still believed you could be more enthusiastic. Perhaps that was why sometimes she was less nice. On days when she wanted to test you or when she came to you needing to vent some frustration after dealing with a troublesome queenly duty, she’d forget the spell. She’d take great joy from ploughing your pussy with her dildo or rubbing herself against you or even eating you out, mocking you when you whined about being close and ordering you to hold it or suffer the consequences. You weren’t sure what the consequences were but you weren’t all that keen to find out and so you’d struggle through, trying desperately to keep the orgasm at bay. Which is what happened one night when she came to you, clearly pissed off about something that had happened in the meeting she’d just returned from.

Lucy didn’t elaborate on what or who had pissed her off but you instantly knew she was going to make you suffer. Her fingers had tugged at your hair hard enough that it felt as if she were ripping it out, as she pulled you down to lick her pussy. Even after she’d had her orgasm she was still angry and so decided to use you to alleviate her frustrations. Meekly you removed your dress and lay back, following every order she gave you quickly and without question. She considered you for a moment before approaching the wall and pulling the largest dildo from it. You gulped as she used her powers to attach it to herself and then, in the blink of an eye, was on you, the tip of the fake cock at your entrance. You had no hope. The moment you saw the glint in her eye you knew she would be making you cum one way or another and certainly without permission. Lucy was looking to punish someone and you were the perfect candidate. But you tried. You did everything you could think of to keep from cumming as Lucy rode you, toying with your clit until she grew fed up with waiting and sent a bolt of magic through you that had you clenching on her cock in an instant. She tutted at you as she pulled out, “Oh pet. That was a mistake. I’m going to have to punish you now.” “Please don’t, My Queen. No, please no. I tried Mistress.” “And you failed. So now...” There was a flash of light and the next thing you knew was being bound to the bed, arms and legs immobile. No matter how much you tried to pull at them they held, as you’d known they would. Lucy watched you, amused, until you stopped struggling so much. The only movement she made was to take off the dildo she wore, absentmindedly tracing her fingers over its length, already slick from being inside you. “There now, have you got it out of your system?” she asked when you gave up trying to free yourself, “You know I hate doing this but it’s the only way you’ll learn.” She grinned as she spoke, clearly enjoying every second of your dismay. All you could do was try to brace yourself as your queen shoved the fake cock back inside you, her magic making it thrust and vibrate.

The toy had a mind of its own and all you could do was writhe against your restraints and moan as you were unwillingly pulled into an orgasm. “Don’t you look so pretty like this.” her laugh was tinkling and musically sweet and you knew there would be no hope of being released until she’d had her fun. Your stomach tightened as another orgasm began to build and, though you knew it was futile, you couldn’t help but beg again and again for it to stop, knowing it would only get more painful as it continued. “Such a noisy whore aren’t you. That’s good. I’m sure the whole castle will hear what pleasure I bring you.” “Mis-Mistress, p-p-p-lease,” you cried out, somewhere between sobbing and moaning, “Ple-ase st-stop.” “Oh no, I’m not going to do that. You wanted this. You wanted to cum and so you did, disregarding my order entirely.” “No,” you shook your head but Lucy just talked over you. “Yes, whore. You asked for this.” You let out a high pitched whine, barely hearing the door open and Rami walk in. “Sweetie!” Lucy said excitedly, beckoning him towards the bed. “What’s going on here?” “You remember what I told you about Gwilym’s assessment of our pet right?” “Which part?” “How he asked if she’d ever passed out while we played with her.” “Of course. You were wondering how much it would take to make it happen. Is that what we’re testing out here?” “It is!” She clapped her hands together excitedly, “Our silly pet decided it would be okay to steal an orgasm, even though she knew that I didn’t want her to have any. So now I’m giving her all the orgasms she wants and we’ll only stop when she loses consciousness.” The tears that you’d spilled already had been brought on by pain but now you cried out of fear, terrified about how much you’d have to endure before you reached the end of your torment. Every orgasm you were forced to have was a little more painful than the last and came faster too, giving you less time to recover. And, though you tried to plead with Lucy, tried to apologise and promise to be good, it was getting harder and harder to speak. Your words were interrupted by whimpers, whines, sobs, and every so often a moan as your pleasure peaked enough to overtake the pain for a moment or two. Lucy remained indifferent to it all, watching you with excitement and greed.

“Actually, Darling, watching our naughty little slave has made me very wet.” “Say no more, my love.” Rami said softly, leaning in to tenderly kiss Lucy’s cheek as undressed. And before you could properly register what was happening above you, Lucy was moaning as he eased into her cunt from behind. Lucy kept her eyes on you except for when they fluttered shut as he began to thrust, “Good whore. Keep crying. You’re going to help me get off.” You couldn’t have stopped crying even if you’d tried. The pleasure peaks had grown less and less frequent as the pain became more acute, hurting you from the inside out. And knowing that your suffering was making your mistress horny, that she was enjoying your torment, only made it worse. It was humiliating, not least because part of you felt glad to have pleased her. “That’s it, like that,” Lucy panted but you couldn’t tell if she was still talking to you or if the words were aimed at Rami. You screamed as you came again, your arms and legs pulling against the restraints, sobbing in the aftermath as you already felt the next impossible climax start to build. Lucy arched her back, drool dripping from her lips onto you as she moaned out the word yes over and over, being fucked just the way she liked, pushed closer and closer to her own release. And when she came she moaned, her mouth falling open in an O shape that made you jealous of her good it must feel compared to the orgasms ripped out of you. “Pull out Rami.” she panted as she came down, groaning at the loss of his cock, “Got somewhere special for you to put it.” You had no idea what she meant, barely understanding what she’d said, until she moved aside so Rami could kneel between your legs. You cried through a blissful five seconds as Lucy removed the vibrating dildo from your throbbing pussy and then it was replaced by Rami who roughly thrust into you until he had his orgasm too. You could feel him twitching inside you as he pumped his cum into you and then pulled out. For a moment you hoped that would be the end but then your overworked cunt was filled once more with the toy and you screamed as it continued to overstimulate you. “How about one for each of her holes?” Lucy said softly, already stroking Rami’s cock, “Like a proper cumdump deserves.” You felt limp and exhausted, unable to even attempt to thrash against the bonds that held you in place. And so, when Rami knelt by your head and forced his cock between your lips, you did nothing but cry. Even before he was finished painting your tongue you began to feel dizzy, struggling to keep your eyes open. Rami pulled out and laughed, “I think this is it my love. See how she struggles now?” “Oh you’re right,” Lucy moved closer, examining your face as you felt another shockwave roll through your body. The last thing you heard was Lucy ask, “Are you going to pass out now pet?” And then there was darkness.

You were no longer bound when you woke, no longer stuffed full with the dildo. The familiar taste of Rami was on your tongue and the moon was where it had been before so you knew you hadn’t been out for more than a few minutes. “You’re awake!” Lucy exclaimed, “Rami she’s awake!” You blinked away the grogginess and winced as you moved. “Well?” Lucy asked as both she and Rami peered down at you, “Do you remember what happened?” You nodded, memories rushing back, “You punished me for disobedience.” you said softly, needing to clear your throat before the words could be heard. “Yes. So what do you say?” “Thank you for teaching me a lesson My Queen.” The full weight of what you’d been through caught up with you and another sob wracked your chest, “I’m sorry for disobeying.” “Does that mean it won’t happen again?” “It won’t, Mistress. I’ll be good from now on.” “And you’ll put more effort into enjoying having all of your holes used?” “Yes, Mistress. I’ll love it I promise. I’ll love it so much I’ll beg for you to use them.” “I like the sound of that. Why don’t we start now. I promised Rami he could fill your arse but you blacked out before he had the chance and we didn’t think it would be right for you to miss it by not being conscious. So why don’t you beg him to use you now.” You nodded, fresh tears leaking from your eyes, “Please Rami, Sir, please use my arse. I need it so bad.” “Not so hard now was it.” You shook your head as rolled onto your stomach, pushing your hips up for Rami even as your legs and pussy ached. "Before my future husband takes you, you should know something. We’ve decided that, for the moment, it would be safer if you were to stop gaining pleasure from your pussy. We’ll only be using it while you’re asleep. Any other time your other holes will take priority. Does that make sense?” “Yes, Mistress. Whatever you think is best.” “Good girl.” Lucy gave a nod and Rami unceremoniously removed your plug. He groaned as he sank his magically lubed cock into you and began to thrust.

Taglist: @labessieisallama @deakyclicks @jennyggggrrr @drowseoftaylor @hannafuckingsucks @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming @queenmylovely @ilovequeenmorethanyou @johndeaconshands @borhapbois @stardust-galaxies @cherries-n-rocknroll @rogersslave @scorpiogemini

#my writing #my fics #lucy boynton x reader #rami malek x reader #lucy boynton smut #rami malek smut #lucy boynton imagine #rami malek imagine #i......dont have any excuses for this

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petri808 · 4 years ago

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1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8

Inukag Royalty AU

“I see that,” the King chuckled, gathering the child into his arms. He looked at Kagome. “And who have you brought Rin?”

While Rin was all happy smiles, Kagome immediately went on edge. Of all the people to see first, the King himself! She was not prepared whatsoever to meet the Inutaisho, but she bit down and hid her rising anxiety, pulling on all those years of putting on a false expression to get through important meetings. All she had to do was get through this encounter. Bring the girl home safely, go through some pleasantries, and be on her way.

“She found me in the market when I got lost. Can we keep her papa?”

Kagome’s heart stopped. ‘Wait what?!’ Did Rin just say what she thought she’d said?!

Again, the male laughed. “Well, we’ll have to see.”

“Papa, she can be my new attendant. Please! She’s so much nicer than the other one.”

“Oh?” The man turned back to Kagome. “Thank you for assisting my granddaughter, miss?”

Thinking quickly. “Kagome Tanaka,” she bowed. “And the pleasure was mine. The Princess was a joy to talk to.”

“Miss Tanaka, are you from around here?”

“I’m from a small village on the outskirts of the kingdom.”

“Her mom and dad are dead like mine, so she needs a new job.” Rin chimed in.

“Is that true?” He questioned.

“Yes. It’s why I came to the city thinking I’d have a better chance to find one. I actually just arrived this morning when I came across the Princess.”

“I see. Then tell me do you have any qualifications to be a Lady in Waiting?”

“I believe so your majesty. My mother schooled me in all the main subjects. Language, arts, history, literature, and such, so I’d hoped to find a tutoring position with a noble family here.”

“How interesting.” The King put Rin down. “For such a coincidence.”

Startled, Kagome bowed low again. “I swear it was never intended your majesty.” She didn’t want the king to think she’d targeted Rin for a nefarious reason. “My only intentions were to make sure she got home safely.”

He waved his hand with a chuckle. “I believe you. Our Rin here is very determined and she must have taken a genuine liking to you. But the decision is up to her father, my son to make.” The King then turned to his granddaughter. “Why don’t I wait here with miss Tanaka, and you go and fetch your father?”

“Okay!” Rin skipped merrily away on her mission. “I’ll be back quick!”

“While we wait, tell me more about yourself miss Tanaka. For starters, it is unusual for a commoner to be educated.”

“Oh… as a young girl my mother was a nanny for a noble house and as her ward was tutored, she herself learned things. She told me she loved learning so much that she took every opportunity she could to read and spent her off times in that family’s library. After marriage and having me, she took it upon herself to make sure I was educated because she wanted me to have a better life.”

“She sounds like a good mother.”

“I miss her dearly and only hope that one day I’ll be as good a mother as she was.”

“Your instincts have already shown through when you saw a lost child and decided to help her.”

Kagome blushed. “Thank you, your majesty for your kind words.”

They chatted for only a couple more minutes by the time Rin came back holding the hand of a tall, very statuesque male. Her father looked a lot like the King except his hair was free flowing and he had a crescent moon on his forehead. Another glaring difference was in demeanor. While the King was very pleasant from the get-go, Rin’s father wore an irritated expression. The child had mentioned that he scared people, and now Kagome could see why.

“That’s her, papa!” Rin pointed at Kagome. “She’s the one I want to be my attendant.”

“Miss Tanaka,” the King gestured, “this is my son Prince Sesshomaru.”

Kagome bowed to the Prince. “It’s nice to meet you, your highness.”

The Prince looked down, fixing Kagome in a stare as he spoke. “My daughter tells me you found her lost in the market?”

“Yes, your royal highness.”

“I’ve spoken with Miss Tanaka, and she appears to have all of the qualifications needed for the position.” The King tells his son. “I would approve, but the decision is yours.”

“Please, daddy!” Rin pulled on her father’s hand. “She’s really, really nice! I really like her!”

The Prince barely showed any reaction to his child’s whims, so it was hard to discern what he was thinking. Kagome just continued to stand there silently and demure as possible while he stared straight at her. It was nerve wracking!

Finally, the man spoke. “Very well. The royal steward will prepare a room for you.” He then gave a slight nod to his father and left the room leaving his child practically bouncing with excitement.

The moment Sesshomaru turned his back, Kagome let out the breath she didn’t know she’d been holding in. His intensity was a force all its own and she had no idea how Rin could be so mellow to it. Yet the child was completely oblivious and seemed to have the man wrapped around her fingers. He didn’t even question anything.

The king chuckled. “Rin, why don’t you show Ms. Tanaka around while things are taken care of.”

“Okay papa!” Rin grabbed Kagome’s hand and started pulling her away. “I’ll show you all the cool parts in the palace! Then we can hang out in my room.”

“It was nice to meet you, your majesty.” Kagome tried and failed to bow properly while being yanked away to the chuckling amusement of the King.

They spent much of the afternoon walking around the palace, inside and out with Rin playing the excitable tour guide introducing Kagome to everyone. It was a typical sized palace from what she could see, though the styling is what differed from her own. Several private rooms and guest rooms, administrative type rooms, entertaining rooms, etc. But the one she knew instantly she’d be spending a considerable time in would be the library. Oh, the texts that room held were simply amazing! So many ancient documents dating back hundreds or perhaps thousands of years! It’ll be wonderful to take a book and read it in the lovely garden on a nice sunny day.

As the afternoon sun dipped closer to the horizon, the royal steward found the pair in Rin’s room chatting quietly about a storybook they’d found in the library. Myouga was the older man’s name and he explained to Kagome her duties under the official role of the Lady in Waiting to the Princess. She was the child’s tutor in all areas of education and would accompany the girl any time she left the castle grounds or as needed by the Princess. All of her food, shelter, and personal needs including attire would be furnished by the kingdom along with a small stipend. The same bedchamber maids that attended to Princess Rin’s laundry and cleaning would also take care of hers.

“The former attendants room has been prepared for you Miss. Tanaka. It is the next room over. Your clothes for dinner has already been laid out on your vanity by the bedchamber maid. I trust we chose the correct size for you. Tomorrow, I shall have one of the royal guards take you to the royal seamstress to set you up properly.”

“Thank you, Mr. Myouga. I understand. I just have one question. Before meeting Rin in the marketplace, I’d boarded my horse and meager belongings at the Umagoya. I’d like to retrieve them. My horse is very precious to me.”

“Certainly. See the palace stable hand and he’ll accompany you to retrieve your horse to take it back to the stables.”

Once the man left them alone, they followed his instructions of taking the stable hand into town with them to hand off the horse. It would have been nice if she could spend more time with the stead to get him adjusted, but they needed to get ready for dinner. So, Kagome promised Rin they’d visit Buyo in the stables the next day. When they arrived back at their rooms, two bedchamber maids were waiting, one for each other them.

Kagome patted the hand she held of Rin’s. “I’ll fetch you once I’ve changed, okay?”

“Yup!” Rin hugged Kagome before skipping towards her room.

The white dress with red, orange, and pink accents presented to Kagome was a bit more extravagant than she’d expected to be given to a simple attendant. It was elegant and form fitting from the bust down to the floor, with a slit running down the side of the skirt from mid-thigh to allow for easier movement. The top half was full sleeved, mid-collared, with knotted button closures running down the front until it reached mid-chest. She’d noticed this outfit resembled the same style worn by other nobles and royals in the palace, but not the commoners who wore much simpler outfits. And while not mentioned yet, the colors were also a theme associated with the royal family. It was very different from what people wore back home in her kingdom, but the style was beautiful to Kagome. Aside from the dress, the bedchamber also re-did her hair, adding accessories befitting the dress as well as makeup. Kagome was glad to see it was done with a natural tone and not too gaudy. She never did like being made up to look like a doll. It was a bit odd to her that she’d be dining with the royal family, but again she assumed it was because of Rin’s age and excitable nature. The child was young and having her attendant present necessary so the adults could go about their business. It was nice though, that they included the child. Kagome chuckled inwardly as she thought about the two royal members she’d met so far. The Prince did not seem to even care about a child being around yet must have a heart to have adopted Rin in the first place.

The bedchamber provided information on other dynamics of the royal household so that she wouldn’t ask the wrong questions. According to the woman, the Inutaisho had two queens. The primary Queen was Prince Sesshomaru’s mother through an arranged marriage. It was a loveless marriage, so once she’d fulfilled her obligation of providing a son, she was allowed to live away in her own royal villa in the countryside. It was a few years later when the Inutaisho met a human Princess in another kingdom, fell in love, and took her as a second Queen. She too bore a son, half yokai, half human named Prince Inuyasha. Prince Sesshomaru was married but he and Princess Kagura had yet to produce an offspring of their own. Rin, again according to the woman was an orphaned daughter of a highly respected human general in the army who despite his ornery disposition really gravitated to the Prince. That affection grew on the Prince until he’d decided to simply adopt the child as his own. It was a really nice story and showed maybe first impressions are not always accurate.

“Good evening Ms. Tanaka,” Inutaisho welcomed Kagome as she sat beside Rin at the large dining table. “I trust your accommodations are amenable?”

“Very much so, your majesty. Thank you very much. Your palace is very beautiful.”

The king chuckled. “Is there any room in the palace you liked the most?”

“The library,” Kagome responded. “All the old texts are quite amazing to see gathered in one place.”

“Ah yes.” He smiled. “There is much history held in that room.”

Prince Sesshomaru and his wife Princess Kagura arrived shortly, and Rin introduced Kagome to her mother. Kagura was just as statuesque as her husband, a poised beauty befitting a future Queen. Servants puttered about setting out appetizers before the first course coming in a few minutes. So, in the meantime, Kagome and Kagura chatted about Rin’s schedule. The woman was happy to see her adopted daughter so happy because the child never got along with the last attendant, regardless of how highly recommended the woman had been.

“Ah!” The King suddenly stood up. “There’s my Queen.”

Kagome stopped talking to look at who the man was talking about and saw another gorgeous woman walking towards him. The Queen was definitely human, with long raven hair pinned back away from her face, and flowing dress of the royal color schemes. They were adorable to Kagome, how the Inutaisho greeted her and helped her into her chair. Royals were often assumed to be haughty, proud, and snobbish but it could be quite the contrary as evident in the Inutaisho’s caring nature. Kagome was certain that, if necessary, the man could be a very imposing figure indeed, but with loved ones no different than any other, human or yokai.

The King introduced Kagome to his wife. “This is Queen Izayoi.”

Kagome stood up and bowed. “I’m pleased to meet you, your majesty.”

“I’m pleased to meet you too, Ms. Tanaka, I’ve heard a lot about you from my husband. Thank you for taking care of my granddaughter.”

“You’re too kind,” Kagome bowed again.

“I’m certain you— Oh,” the Queen cut short and focused he’d gaze past Kagome. “You made it, my son.”

‘Son?’ Kagome turned to see who the Queen was talking about. ‘Oh… wow…’

“Inuyasha, come meet your niece’s new Lady in Waiting, Ms. Tanaka.”

#inukag #inukag fan fic #inukag au #inukag fan fiction #inuyasha #kagome higurashi #royalty au #the irony of fate #ch 2 #petri808

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bloodied-teardrops · 5 years ago

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@softyswork This has just been sitting in my notes for a while, so I hope your anons enjoy? It’s not sugar baby MC rejecting the first years tho

Accidental Sugar Daddy Divus and Sugar Baby MC.

Not particularly yandere, but warning for drugging/aphrodisiacs.

---

The thing is... Divus didn't approach you with any intention beyond picking up the slack after his employer's less-than-stellar display. You were making due with what little that clown had given you. And he gave you far too little to actually take care of yourself with.

A worn and over-sized school uniform that you tried your best to wear properly, but it lacked the newness of the other students' but the care was there. And you only had a few other uniforms in similar states to wear.

He noticed your hair got oily rather quickly despite your attempts to make it look hair sprayed and being in the Ramshackle Dorm, that building wasn't well maintained. It wouldn't surprise him at all if you tried to avoid showering in cold water. Not to mention, it's not like you needed hair products when you had more urgent needs to address.

And the food... you poor thing. There's not much you could buy with what little you had left from paying your so called friends to catch Grim and paying for Grim's demands. But even then, you tried to go for healthy choices.

It’s one part pity and several parts outrage that made the alchemy teacher pull you into Sam's shop to buy you everything you might possibly need for a few weeks as well as thoroughly threatening that the mangy cat about causing you more trouble.

New sets of clothes, plenty of self care goods, and a lot of fresh, healthy foods for you. Not to mention a little space heater in case you got cold at night.

He hasn't seen your dorm, but he already has a sinking feeling in his stomach about it. With no magic or money to spare on supplies... he spends a good portion of the evening throwing magic at everything to make the place livable. And Crowley just left you here?

Well, it's not like he was using the money for anything in particular. There's more than enough for him to provide for you. Just help him out with preparing potions ingredients and running errands around the school.

It should have stopped there. That's exactly where he intended to have things stop.

Except... Headmaster Crowley keeps failing you. He's heard nothing about the search to send you home nor about what will happen if he can't find a way.

You're so vulnerable without magic or papers.

So incredibly easy to... disappear.

---

Divus takes you home with him for winter break. The cat staying on campus with the task entrusted to him, leaving the two of you alone. He had framed it as letting you see the outside world. You've only been to the Coral Sea from what he's heard. Crowley hasn't shown you any progress and you both know that he's not researching a lead in the south.

I see him living in a more rural area. Plenty for room for greenhouses growing his ingredients as well as giving any dogs he's taken in plenty of open space to run in. Granted, he hasn't since being a professor is a rather taxing job, but he does eventually plan to take in more dogs for the future.

For now, he wants to show you Twisted Wonderland's plants. And from there, he'll tell you about the area the plant is native to. Even introducing you to some of the more dangerous species he mentioned in class, but isn't allowed to use at Night Raven College for safety reasons.

That's how the first week goes, but eventually, Divus runs out of plants to talk to you about and finds himself at a loss. Typically, he spent his breaks preparing for future assignments, but seeing as he has a few years of material to reference, there isn't a need for that right now.

It's you who manages to fill up the rest of his break time when he jokingly responded that you could give him a kiss in exchange for everything he's done for you when asked. Well, judging by the look on your face, you're completely willing to do more which changes things.

There's so much to do with another person.

He does rather miss being in charge and you're such a cute puppy. Eager to please him and in need of some training to learn the best ways to.

It doesn't start out sexual.

Putting together your outfit, then doing your makeup in the mornings. If you manage to make it through the day with minimal smudging, he'll tell you what a good puppy you are and ask if you'd like to pick out a cute little trinket for your room (when did it become yours?). If you failed, get ready for a few spanks. No where near enough to make it hard to sit, but enough to sting and remind you of the consequences.

But every few days, he expects you to do it on your own. Do well and he'll praise you. Do poorly and it looks like it's time to spend most of the day teaching you.

He's terribly into teaching you. Or maybe training is the more appropriate term? Regardless, he probably shouldn't be enjoying this little routine the way he is.

There are so many useful potions to make you dependent on him. Love potions are fairly easy to find if one knew how to look. But he finds them rather distasteful. Why force you to love him when he can cultivate your love for him?

First, by showing just how reliable he is. Divus slips increasingly larger doses of aphrodisiacs into your food, slowly driving you up the wall with your need with no way of relieving yourself without alerting him. The heat just keeps building until you finally break. Pressing close to him in a definitely not appropriate manner as you confess and plea for some help addressing the ache between your legs. Completely unaware of the grin on his face as you avoid looking him in the eye.

Of course he'll help you, just tell him what he needs to do.

As much as he would like to show you his collection, it's best to start small for you and your body to adjust to his demanding desires. Just his cock for now.

He'll continue to give you aphrodisiacs for a few days before stopping. You're relieved that your strange neediness has stopped, but you feel empty after so many days of being fucked. Not to mention, the way Divus would take care of you afterwards... That's exactly what he's betting on to make you come to him after showing you what you could have with him. No need to hold back since the two of you aren't teacher and student right now.

Are you lonely in bed? Come curl up with him then. Do you still want more? He's happy to grant more if you're a good girl for him.

He could continue to give you potions to make reliant on him for help, but he prefers to take a more natural route. Slow and steady can be just as enjoyable. Divus can't give you potions for the rest of your life without you potentially growing a tolerance to them or him missing a dose and he’d hate to lose your trust in him.

It’s much more rewarding to have you slowly give in over time.

---

You return from the break with a bright red collar around your neck and a fur coat matching his own. Though not nearly as big as his. The only more obvious way to show his ownership of you is to scream it on a broom. Another change is that you've moved into his personal quarters on campus instead of back to Ramshackle. That is solely Grim's haunt now, serving occasionally as a study space. Why would you go back to it when his quarters are much better?

Not only is it in wonderful condition, you get to wake up with his kisses, in his warm bed without having to worry about irrelevant things like how you'll get breakfast or how you're going to get ready and look well, he'll take care of all of that for you.

Hair styled, clothes fitted and ironed, and makeup done to match his. It's so obvious that you're his now.

If Crowley tries to kick up a fuss, well, Divus has cleaned up plenty of incidents for him in the past. Surely, the oh so kind headmaster can reward him with you, right?

#Wifey ♡#♡ Writing ♡#Lemon Time ○#Twisted ◇ Wonderland #Divus ♡ Crewel #♡ drugging #♡ teacher-student #♡ dub-con

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kodzukenscorner · 5 years ago

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Sakusa falling in love with a robot?

anon asked: can i request hc/scenario? there was this kdrama where the main guy is allergic to human interaction, turns red if he does and takes medication to stop it.one day he buys an android,but got broken so the creator had to ask an actual human being to act as a robot then they touched except he didn't become allergic bc his illness is psychological then he falls inlove w it thinking it is just an android, with sakusa,how would he found out and react?srry if this is too detailed, ignore this if so 💕

a/n: whew ok anon i had not heard of this drama before so you can BET i googled it and watched a couple of scenes from it and wow this is so cute and sakusa is such a good fit for this

wc: 1,361

✶ ✶ ✶ ✶ ✶

People are gross, they are disgusting and do not understand personal hygiene. Sakusa is fully aware of this fact and does everything he can to avoid human contact. He may be a volleyball player but he specifically picked the sport because there is little to no human contact. Only one person touches the ball at a time and he is more than happy with that. His teammates and fans have learned to keep their distance from him, unfortunately they learned the hard way.

At one of the MSBY fanmeets, a young boy was so excited to meet one of his favorite outside hitters that when he walked up to Sakusa’s intimidatingly large frame, he latched on to one of his legs. Before any of the other Jackals could pry this kid off Sakusa had already started to feel lightheaded. He wandered off somewhere to be alone, his worried teammates trailing behind, watching helplessly as their friend turned a ghastly red and struggled to breathe properly. Thankfully he was able to recover without requiring a trip to a hospital but he skipped out on the rest of the fanmeet. This didn’t go unnoticed by the fans and reporters and word quickly spread about Sakusa Kiyoomi, the athlete who loathed human touch.

Sakusa really didn’t mind it, that just meant that people kept their distance and life actually got easier for him. But, the popular athlete quickly caught the attention of an up and coming tech company that wanted to test out their new life-like android. Sakusa never really figured out why they wanted him to try out their prototype, maybe they pitied him, or maybe they just wanted the endorsement of someone who was notorious for disliking people. Either way he said yes.

Why did he say yes? Deep down Sakusa knew that the pit of loneliness in his stomach was slowly eating away at him and he longed for someone, anyone, to help him break through it, but he’d never admit that, not even to himself.

The tech company was elated and quickly got to work on preparing their new android for delivery until some dumb intern spilled water on it while he was adjusting the hard drive. So now everyone is freaking out because this android is supposed to be delivered today but they need at least a week to replace the hard drive. What else could they do except call up the person the android is modeled after and basically beg you to pretend to be a robot to hang out with some volleyball player for a week. They were offering you a lot of money and if all you had to do was keep some guy company, it couldn’t hurt right? And it’s not like this guy can’t be around people, he just doesn’t like them. Right?

This is genuinely one of the most ridiculous situations you’ve ever been put in, you’re being escorted into some strangers house and he thinks you’re a robot. The android is supposed to be just like a human so at least you don’t have to worry about acting like a robot. When the two of you are finally left alone, you’re just standing in the middle of his apartment unsure of what to do. He’s staring you up and down, hands in the pocket of his jacket, face mask covering most of his face. From what you can tell, he’s fairly handsome and definitely tall and muscular. He catches you checking him out and raises an eyebrow.

“I guess even robots have feelings huh?”

You let that comment go, figuring you would think something similar if you had been presented with an oddly life-like robot. Most of the first day went by with little interaction between the two of you. You sat in his living room, attempting to make conversation with him every now and again, his responses were short and curt but he stayed near you most of the day. It felt like he wanted to talk more with you but he just couldn’t bring himself to do so. You made do with simple questions about himself, trying to get to know him better. He obliged you with some light small talk and you actually felt like you were making some headway with him. You learned some of his likes and dislikes and to no one’s surprise, found out he’s very particular about his personal hygiene.

The second day was a welcome change, it almost felt like he was a new person. The first day he was obviously keeping his distance, sitting on the couch opposite yours, face mask still on. Today you were surprised when he sat right next to you on the couch and more importantly he wasn’t wearing a face mask today. He turned his head towards you to ask you a question and oh shit he’s hot, how is he so pretty up close? Holy shit. Oh and his lips are moving, oh wait is he saying something? Oh god he just asked you a question and you were too busy drooling over him to hear it. Oh no, he’s staring, what should you say?

“What?”

Sakusa stared at you quizzically, eyeing you closely. How the hell can he look so attractive even when he’s suspicious?

“I asked if your skin felt real”

And now he spoke and suddenly his voice was sending shivers down your spine.

“You can feel it if you like” You held your palm out to him with this new found confidence and he faltered for a second before he gently took your hand in his.

His hands were rough and calloused but his touch was so tender, like you would break if he squeezed too hard. He caressed your palm with his thumb, eyes trained on your hand.

“Soft...” He mumbled under his breath.

He looked up to your face and made eye contact with you again. You froze and you’re positive he felt your hand tense up in his. Why did he have this effect on you? It’s like you’d never met a handsome guy before, well maybe not someone as good looking as him cause come on now.

While you were busy ogling, Sakusa had lifted his free hand to stroke your cheek. Your breathing hitched and if Sakusa hadn’t noticed how you tensed up before he certainly noticed now.

He could tell, he knew. No matter how life-like a robot could be, there was no way it could mimic human reactions this well. You had to be a real person but he couldn’t bring himself to stop touching you. How long had it been since he last had human contact like this? And your skin was so soft, it was addicting. And your lips, why were they so plump? Wait, is he touching your lips now? Yeah he definitely is.

Sakusa ghosted a thumb over your lips, his intense gaze drifting from your eyes to your lips. His fingers travelled down to your chin where he lightly gripped your face and brought you closer. Before you could regain whatever composure you had before, his lips were on yours. He was hesitant though, you could tell he wasn’t used to this and something inside of you encouraged you to take the lead. You brought one hand to grip his collar and the other in his hair, which was incredibly soft and silky by the way. You guided his lips against yours, he groaned against your mouth when you tilted your head to deepen the kiss.

You wanted more, so much more and you found yourself kissing him more desperately. It was getting sloppy but Sakusa just grabbed your thighs and pulled you into his lap. You straddled him, your hands getting lost in his dark curls. You never wanted to stop, he was intoxicating but you needed to catch your breath before you passed out so you reluctantly pulled away. You were both panting softly, eyes locked onto each other. Sakusa spoke up first.

“You’re not a robot are you?”

You shook your head. “No”

“Good” Sakusa grabbed the back of your head and crashed your lips back onto his.

#haikyuu #haikyuu!!#hq #haikyuu writing #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu imagines #sakusa #sakusa kiyoomi #hq sakusa #sakusa x reader #sakusa x you

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grilledcheeseandguavajelly · 5 years ago

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Mildred Ratched x Wilhemina Venable -- Hair Headcanons

(That no one asked for)

This was initially part of the big Ratched x Venable fic, but as I adjusted it and moved things around, I found that it didn’t quite fit. So I thought I would post it as headcanons instead!

~Enjoy, my little peaches 😉~

Tag List: @thatgirlintheleatherjacket @shineestark @duchessfics @darling-dontforgetme @midnight-lestrange @nerdaroo @pradababey (and @welshdragonrawr because it’s Mildred and they’re legally obligated to listen to me rant about her)

Neither of them noticed when it happened. How it happened. But they grew a bit older.

Just a smidge.

And as the stories shared grew shorter and more meaningful, as they learned to read each other’s minds and know each other through actions over words, the rest of the world became infinitely more dangerous.

Every time they stepped outside their door, there was a greater risk that someone was going to get between them. Tear them off of one another and cane them down to submission.

Each day made them more vulnerable. Each night strengthened that bond. So, little by little, piece by piece, each woman helped the other refortify herself against the possibility of hurt.

It didn’t matter how long the dresses were. It didn’t matter that gloves were pulled on and stockings got thicker. What mattered was that when they looked in the mirror, they were always pristine.

And their hair was their armor.

It didn’t start so tight.

When they had first met, Mildred had pulled her hair out of the way and twisted it back at the top, letting her natural curls fall over her shoulders and bounce lightly as she walked.

Then, once she got the job at the institution, it shifted to something a bit tighter, Wilhemina pinning up those loose curls and keeping them out of the way. A nice, modified chignon just below her collar.

“Quite becoming.”

Mildred hummed, weighing the knot. “I’d say so.”

But days went by, and weeks went by, and little by little, her hair was pulled even tighter.

Wilhemina was a whiz with a comb and some pins, and Mildred always loved taking an extra moment in the morning to see the art she had created.

But there was one morning, when Wilhemina smirked even before she was finished, Mildred watching her carefully from the mirror at the vanity. And when she turned, admiring the back of it, she noticed the tiny rose curls twisted into her usual style.

She wanted to kiss Wilhemina, to thank her properly. But something about her hair like this, everything settled into place — Her life was balanced. Home and work. And this hair, this simple, elegant, perfect hair, separated the two.

She wasn’t Millie in that mirror. She was Nurse Ratched. And she felt like she could conquer anything.

Wilhemina’s had evolved in quite the same way.

The days of pulling her hair up and twisting it out of her face, half up, half down, were over.

A few months in, right when Mildred’s hair had started to change, Wilhemina had noticed what the power of that did to the other woman.

And so she had asked for a taste herself, sitting in the vanity chair and letting Mildred tease it up into two flawless sections, pulling it back tight into a high ponytail and twisting it into a singular barrel curl down her back.

Everyone had noticed her that day. Everyone’s eyes had widened and then fallen away as she passed by. And while insecurity usually would have clouded her judgement, this time, this time, Wilhemina had no doubt it was because she was exuding power.

Something changed, in those little moments sat across her vanity. Something settled deep in her chest with the way Mildred’s fingers combed through her hair, her soft words of praise and admiration drawing a hard, firm line to separate them from the dangers of the outside world. Building a wall.

And after Wilhemina had gotten a taste, she realized that she needed more. What came to be her signature ponytail morphed into something entirely different and suddenly so familiar.

It was the day after she had picked those little rosebuds into Mildred’s hair, twisting the curls so carefully she could have cried. And instead of pulling her hair into a tight ponytail that morning, Mildred’s hands on her shoulders stopped her.

“I want you to try something different,” she said as she took the comb from Wilhemina’s hands. “I want you to know what this kind of power feels like.”

And then she had it teased up again, but split entirely down the middle, combing it from the sides and pulling it tight into two French rolls, meeting in the middle and joined neatly at the nape of her neck. Held impeccably with pins and hairspray.

When she was finished, Wilhemina’s hands gripped into the wood of the vanity. Because this was it. And she could feel it. And she understood.

It was perfect, smooth as silk and pinned up tightly. Two sister curls, reminiscent of her barrel curl but so much more controlled. And the front still looked the same. Wilhemina still recognized herself. But when she looked in the mirror, her chin was sharper and her cheekbones were harder.

And Wilhemina didn’t miss the way Mildred left a few pieces free at the nape of her neck, her baby hairs combed down out of the way, so that she would still have something to twist her fingers into when they kissed.

Mildred smirking behind her set it in stone.

“Ravishing,” Mildred murmured, fingers tightening on her shoulders.

Wilhemina tapped her cane in response, a sickly smile pulling at her lips.

Hardened. Protected. Safe.

The good thing about having a partner style your hair every morning is that they know the most effective way to undo it when you get home every night.

Mildred had memorized every stroke of hairspray, fingers always raking through and softening it in seconds.

Wilhemina never missed a pin, spinning those perfect little twists around her fingers and popping them right out of place.

And then they were on each other, no time wasted as sloppy, messy, controlling kisses — slamming against the wall and grabbing by the shirt — slowed into something delicate and soft. Their daytime selves, their protected selves, literally pulled away as armor was discarded.

By the time both of their perfect updos were tugged free, the stresses and the pressures of the day were usually diffused.

They would sit calmly over dinner, always touching, always sneaking small caresses in the safety of their sanctuary, discussing whatever was left pricking at their minds.

And one would inevitably wind up twirling strands of the other’s hair around their fingers with the knowledge that they would be able to use it to a completely different advantage once they fell into bed.

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seokoloqy · 6 years ago

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good kitty | kth (m)

➳ PAIRING: hunter!taehyung x witch!reader ft. devil!hoseok

➳ GENRE: smut, pwp, ‘no rest for the wicked’ drabble

➳ WORD COUNT: 2k

➳ WARNINGS: LOTS-O-CURSING, fingering, unprotected sex, degradation, little bit of spanking, hair pulling, name-calling, orgasm denial, barely any hobi :(( sorry fellow hopeworldians this is a fumble on my part

➳ SUMMARY: you owned taehyung and the red collar around his neck proved it, but in bed, he’s the master and you’re just his obedient little slut.

➳ A/N: I feel like Tae is a little too rough but it could just be me so I dialed it down a bit haha but pls let me know what you think!!! + thanks @strawbxxymilk for giving me inspo to write this hehe this is unedited :(( sorry

—

“Kitty, come here” you coo, gaze flickering to the black cat slinking into a corner, shielding itself from your eyes. The red collar fastened around its throat gleams as light reflects his tag with your name claiming him. It’s golden eyes turn to slits as it watches you with contempt for cursing him. But it wasn’t your fault he had tried to kill you—twice.

Your newest pet, a human turned obedient, docile house cat, used to be a witch hunter. Not a very good one, you assume, since you managed to turn him into one of your pets. Him and his friends needed to be taught a lesson about what happens to those who dare to try and kill you.

“Come here before I tighten that collar around your neck and force the air out of your lungs,” you hiss when the feline doesn’t budge. He watches you with the same vengeful eyes, refusing to lift a paw. “Hoseok, the cat is being stubborn.”

“Kill it.” The sudden appearance of your devilish companion startles the cat causing it to jump up and scurry away, disappearing into the dark hall.

Hoseok looks the same as the day you trapped him under your spell and made him yours. The mark you burned into his vessel’s flesh nearly a year ago remains intact.

You roll your eyes, snapping your fingers, listening as bones begin snapping and skin begins to stretch in the other room. The painful sound of a cats meow turns into the deep roar of a man.

“But I like this one, Hobi.”

Hoseok grimaces at your nickname, disappearing once again without replying. You’re not sure where he goes, but it doesn’t matter much. You know he’ll never find a way to release himself from your spell.

It’s amusing that he still tries.

You leave the kitchen to roam the hall, searching for your pet. Approaching the end where your bedroom is, you can hear the sound of items crashing to the ground, glass being shattered in a fit of rage.

“Kitty, you’re being a bad boy.” You push open the door, snapping your fingers to turn the lights on.

As light floods the destroyed room, only one person stands amongst all the shattered mirror and scattered miscellaneous items that used to rest on your vanity. Breathing heavily, your pet’s bare chest rises and falls as he stares at you with the same golden eyes.

You bite your lip, running your eyes down his toned body, absolutely bare.

“I’m not your kitty. My name is Taehyung.”

You chuckle, “but you are mine. That pretty little collar around your neck proves it.”

His hands moves to the red collar to unbuckle the straps. They don’t move no matter how hard he pulls and he lets out a frustrated groan.

“Good luck removing it, kitty, you’re bound to me.”

Taehyung, like the good hunter he is, reaches down to scoop up a big shard of broken glass and charges toward you. He grabs you roughly by the arm and forces the glass to your neck.

“Remove it,” he hisses,

“You think I’ll surrender that easily? I wouldn’t even make a deal with the devil and I definitely won’t with a fucking hunter,” you sneer, “so go ahead and kill me if you think that will free you.”

You don’t even flinch under his hardened gaze.

He slowly pulls the glass away from your neck, dropping it to the ground because it has no use to him anymore.

You’ve won.

—

“Mhm, Hoseok,” you mewl, grinding on his thick cock. You’ve been going slowly tonight, lazily riding him, distracted by the thought of your new kitten.

Taehyung. What a foolish hunter.

“It looks like someone wants to join,” Hoseok grunts, holding onto your hips to force you up and slam you back down when he decides you’re moving too slowly.

The way his cock hits your sweet spot has you moaning, forgetting the words Hoseok just said. It’s just pleasure that you feel as he rocks his hips into you.

“Don’t just stand there and gawk,” Hoseok says to your intruder.

You look over your shoulder to find Taehyung, gold tag glinting in the low light, cock half hard and jaw hung open. He licks his lips, trying to tear his gaze away, but he can’t. The enticing roll of your hips and your sultry gaze lure him beyond the threshold.

The devil and one of the most powerful witches. The hunter in him must be dying for a chance to kill you both while you’re so close.

“Oh, kitty,” you purr, biting down on your lip. “Do you want to watch? I’ll put on a good show for you, baby.”

“I want to do more than watch,” Taehyung's gruff voice takes you by surprise.

Hoseok chuckles, hand climbing from your waist to your breast, fondling and rolling his thumb over a hardened bud. You hum, running your hand through Hoseok’s soft dark hair, pretending to think about letting Taehyung join. You don’t need to think. You want him to join.

“Do you mind sharing me, Hobi?” You question sweetly, throwing your arms around his shoulders and pressing kisses to his neck.

“I’m so used to having you all to myself. I don’t know if I like someone else pleasing you,” he teases, eyes wandering over your shoulder to Taehyung. “But I feel whatever you feel so it would be like he’s pleasing the both of us.”

Hoseok eases you off him and you mewl as each inch leaves your dripping core.

“I’ll be back, you two have fun,” he winks.

“What?” Before Hoseok answers your question he disappears and you’re left alone with a feral hunter. You don’t know what he meant by ‘I’ll be back’. What was he going to do?

You turn around to find Taehyung already at the edge of the bed.

“Lay down,” he hisses, fingers clawing into the skin on your thighs. The burn feels too good and you grin. Your hot skin relishes the relief provided by the cool sheets as you comply to his orders.

“That’s no way to speak to your master, kitty,” you purr, fingers rising to the red collar around his throat to flick the shining golden tag with your name on it, claiming him. As the tag sways back and forth it glimmers underneath the light.

Tarhyung’s features turn into a snarl, he sneers, “master? When you’re beneath me and screaming around my cock I’m the master. Got it, bitch?”

You bite your lip to hide a growing smirk.

At the end of the day, he knows his role, who really owns who. The master and her pretty, obedient little bitch. Taehyung is yours.

“Yes, master,” you say sweetly, hints of sarcasm bleeding through your innocent facade. “I’m just your slut.”

Taehyung grunts, satisfied with your response. “That’s a good girl.”

He spreads your legs to get a look at your swollen cunt, licking his lips at the sight of arousal leaking out. One finger runs across your slit, coating the tip in wetness before plunging into your walls suddenly.

Taehyung fingers your greedy cunt, watching in fascination as it clenches around his single digit. “Look at your pretty pussy sucking in my finger.”

Obscene noises fill the room as your moans mixed with the wetness of Taehyung’s finger continuously fucking you.

“You want me to fill you up with my cock?” Taehyung adds a second finger, scissoring your walls. Your fingers dig into the sheets as your back arches, a breath escapes you while his fingers move at an inhuman pace. “I’m gonna fuck this tight cunt and turn you into my obedient bitch.”

“Mhm, y-yes, fuck me good,” you moan, allowing your eyes to fall shut. His fingers keep up the brutal pace. Your eyes flutter, feeling each digit around your velvet walls. “I want your cock.”

“Beg me for it, slut,” Taehyung growls, bringing his unoccupied hand to the roots of your hair and yanking your head up to his snarling lips. “I wanna hear you cry.”

You prop yourself up on your elbows, scalp burning as his fingers lace tighter, wetness beginning to pool in your eyes. “P-please, I need it.”

Taehyung tsks removing his fingers from your cunt to deliver a sharp blow onto it instead. The strike lands on your clit causing you to jolt forward and hiss.

“You call that begging, you stupid bitch?”

He throws your head back, grabbing your hips and flipping your over. He pulls your ass up, putting it on display for his predatory eyes. Your back is arched and face pressed against the sheets. You can feel your wetness dripping down your thighs

“I’ll teach you how to beg properly.”

His first strike comes down hard and you let out a surprised yelp.

“Count them,” he barks.

“O-One,” you whine.

He delivers five more punishing blows to your ass. More tears form in your eyes with each count.

“Seven,” you groan.

“Did you learn your lesson yet?”

“Yes,” you sob, fingers curling tighter around the bedsheets. “P-Please, master, I-I want your cock so badly. I need you—fuck—I need you now.”

You hear the sound of Taehyung’s pants unbuckling, relief flooding your aching body. When he presses the tip of his weeping cock to your entrance you can already tell he’s thick, thicker than Hoseok. The anticipated stretch already makes you sting.

“I’m gonna fuck you now and you’re not gonna cum until I say you can, got that?”

You’re too lost in the pressure of his cock pressing against your lips, you don’t answer, not until his hand knots in your hair and pulls your head up. You cry out from the burn on your scalp.

“I ask you a question, slut. Did you fucking understand it?”

“Yes! I won’t cum until you say so!”

“Good,” is all he says before releasing your hair and ramming his girth into your tight cunt.

“Ah, fuck!” You sob.

Taehyung doesn’t even give you the chance to adjust, thrusting in and out of you at an animalistic pace. You can feel yourself being stretch more than you ever have with Hoseok. You hold onto the bed, afraid you’ll fall off the faster and deeper he goes.

Already, you can feel yourself wanting to come. You desperately need to with each thrust.

“I-I want to cum! Please, m-master, I need to!”

“Did I…did I say you could?” He pants, gripping your hips to take control of you.

“N-no,” you cry, face twisting against your pillow as you rub your tears away.

“Didn’t fucking think so.”

You endure all that he gives you, panting and screaming around him. Your walls clench, you can feel your abdomen tightening, coiling.

“Poor slut wants to cum, doesn’t she?” He taunts, hand coming down to your clit. You cry out, overly sensitive and this just pushes you closer to the edge. “You wanna cum?”

“Y-Yes! Yes, p-please,” you hiccup, burying your face deeper into the pillow.

You can tell Taehyung is almost there too, the way his thrusts become sloppy, the grip on your hips tighten until his nails claw into your skin, and his breathy pants become louder.

“Then cum,” is all he says and you do. You release all over his cock, finally relieved and trembling. Toes curl and for the first time you scream his name.

The feeling of your walls clenching sporadically around him makes him cum quickly after you. He curses, stilling his hips and letting you milk his cock.

He pulls out of you, a mixture of both your cum leaking out of your wrecked hole. He looks on in amusement at your ruined state, chest heaving and hair mused from all the pulling.

You’re barely able to move your body, too sore and fucked out to begin a proper sentence. Taehyung may begin to like it here after all.

You collapse onto the bed, every part of you aches, traces of his touch burned into your skin.

“Looks like you two finished before I could get back.” You don’t even have to turn around to know it’s Hoseok. “I hope you’re up for round two.”

#bts #bts smut #taehyung smut #btssmutclub #smutcentralnet #thekimlinenet #bangtanarmynet #taehyung fanfiction #bts fanfiction

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littleladymab · 5 years ago

Text

tiny cracks of light - chapter eleven

(master post)

Prelude- Basira doesn't fidget beneath his gaze. She remains seated, calmly returning it, face impassive.

Jon doesn't realize how much he has missed being regarded without fear or trepidation or anger until that moment. He takes a breath and considers his next words carefully, unwilling to force her to tell him what she doesn't want to. He doesn't want her to be the next to flinch.

"You've worked here for almost three years," he says, and she nods. "You're only just coming to me now with this suspicion?"

"There are so many other things at play here," Basira replies. "I have not been in a place so heavily observed by the Eye, that it was honestly disorienting in and of itself until I realized that that was part of the problem."

He leans back in his chair and runs a hand over his face, exhausted. "The Watcher doesn't seem too worried about your presence here. You're certain he's aware you're one of the…" Jon makes a vague gesture in her direction.

She lifts an eyebrow. "One of the what, Jon?"

He doesn't want to say it. There's a danger in being known and named, and he doesn't want to put that weight behind Basira's presence. Not when he feels like she is the only person still on his side — Sasha's betrayal, Tim's self-destruction, Martin's withdrawal, Daisy's volatility. How many of them are because of what he's done, or more importantly, hasn't done?

She waits, patiently, for him to answer.

Jon forces himself to speak. "One of the Order of the Divine Host. One of the Blind."

"I am," she confirms simply.

Why are you really in my Archives? he wants to ask, but he doesn't.

Instead, Basira continues without his prompting, and he wonders if she still feels compelled to give the details. "Despite what you might think of us, whatever you have learned from these books or heard from your Watcher, we are not so inclined as to destroy the sun, or send the world into a never-ending night." She hesitates, clearly debating what information she wants to give him. "There is a difference between all-knowing, and knowing enough."

He surprises himself by laughing. "I'm well aware."

She has the decency to wince at that. "On a grand scale, especially. There are things that seek to know and order the world to their whims, and we are the ones who wish to keep those futures… in the dark, so to speak."

Jon considers this. In this head, the Eye yells at him in warning. The fear seeps into his own limbs, and this, too, he considers. "It's my job to know and understand," he begins slowly. "More than that, it is what I want to do, even if given a choice."

"I'm not giving you a choice, I'm stating the facts as I know them—"

"I understand that, but if you think that I'll just stop because some people think I should… I'm sorry to say that it's not possible." He pauses, and studies the wood grain of his desk, the whorls that almost look like eyes if one has more of a fanciful imagination. "I am, at this point, I think, quite unable to stop."

Basira exhales through her nose, but still manages to keep her expression under control. "Do not think that the Blind are the only ones who are working against you, Archivist."

"I think far too highly of myself to believe that only one group would be afraid," he says with words that aren't his own and the taste of iron in his mouth. "And you, Basira? Where do you fall on that scale?"

She tries to resist. He can see it in the lines of her jaw, in the pulse of anger in the tether that binds her to the Eye, faint as it is. "I don't think you want this," she says, and he wonders what she would have called him if she had been weaker.

Jon, or Archivist?

He wonders where the line between them even is.

Sasha wakes up first, with the sun at her back and Tim's arm slung over her waist. She frees one arm from between them and traces the slope of his nose. The uneven bump from a break that didn't heal correctly. Freckles and scars, both new and familiar.

She can feel him slowly come to wake beneath her hand. He tilts his head to press a tired, off-center kiss to her bandaged wrist, then gazes up at her with sleep-bleary eyes and a lazy smile. "Good morning," she says, and he gives a content sigh.

"I've missed this," he murmurs. "I've missed you."

Her fingers continue their study, discovering the changes she couldn't see in the dark before. "What did you mean by 'as beautiful as a sunrise'? I don't think I've known you to ever be awake that early."

Tim's laugh is accompanied by an embarrassed groan. He flops over onto his back, rubbing his hand over his face. "Heavens, Sasha, don't make me explain myself now."

She follows after, grinning. "I want to know!"

"Of course you do, you want to know everything," he teases.

"I'll keep it a secret."

He drapes his arm over his eyes. "It's so corny to explain it now."

Even though he can't see it, she pouts.

"Fine!" he concedes eventually. His arm lifts enough for one eye to glare up at her, and he sports a pout of his own. "I mean that when you're the first thing I see in the morning, you're this brilliant golden glow that I just want to bask in. Or something."

She can feel herself flush all over, and he reaches up to let his fingers tangle in her mess of hair. "Oh," she says, for lack of anything more coherent.

"I told you it was stupid." He applies the slightest bit of pressure to the back of her head, and she bends beneath his touch with ease.

"It's not," she says, laughing, before she kisses him. "It's really not."

She had meant to get up to go do work, but his is an easy rhythm to fall into, and eventually she forgets what she even meant to do beyond this moment.

When she wakes up a second time, Tim is gone and there is a haphazardly folded paper on the pillow beside her. She flops over onto her stomach and flips it open.

Got called to do some work with Daisy. I'll see you for lunch. - Tim (As in we'll have lunch together like old times but honestly, I'm not complaining about the implication of having you for lunch)

She fails at stifling her laugh, reveling in how light she feels at that moment. She knows that this is not everything going back to normal. There is still a monster inside of her that wants out, and an inferno inside of Tim that wants to destroy. The Archivist is missing, and she carries marks that were never meant for her.

But at least she can have this.

Sasha folds the paper back up and searches for a pen.

Find me in the Archives, I'll decide then. - S

She leaves it on his pillow and goes to wash up.

She could go back to her room to clean up properly, but she doesn't want to lose any more time. So she pulls her skirts back on, uses one of Tim's shirts, and makes her way to the Archives while braiding her hair.

The stacks are bathed in bright light from the high windows, heavy with a mid-morning silence that welcomes her in.

A pleased sigh escapes her lips as she walks through them. Last time, she was still a barely remembered variable. But now she is more Archivist than two days ago, and the Archives recognize her as their own.

They will never be hers, like they had once been, but she can feel at peace here once again. The jagged lines of the past have been smoothed over, forgiven.

She wants to return Jon to this place as much as it wants him back.

Sasha collects several sheets of paper and a pen, then begins to make a list of what she knows. She has to lean into the connection with the Eye, despite the way it makes the thing inside of her squirm in anticipation.

"You're not going to get another chance," she tells it.

Seeing the future has never been your strong suit, it mocks.

She has no comeback to that.

The list is an incredibly short one, because even with the Eye's assistance, she still doesn't know much. The connection to the others is important — the marks that they share with Jon, as much as they rely on his presence.

One way or another, he's saved each of them, that much she is certain of. Which implies that she still has to figure out Basira, and even Melanie. They both bear evidence of the Eye, though in different ways.

Her pen pauses as she thinks about Melanie — who left the Archives of her own accord. Sasha wonders if she could find any remaining tether between her and this place, or if there had been a re-acclimation process for her.

Did she hesitate before crossing the barrier, the same way Sasha did? Did she trace her paths through these halls to try and remember what they meant to her?

Did she leave because she wanted to, or because she was forced to?

Sasha realizes that she's been doodling while lost in thought, and when she looks, she finds the paper (list and all) covered in dozens of eyes.

"Hard at work I see, Miss James."

Sasha jumps, the pen flying from her already weak grasp. "Watcher," she gasps, forcing out a shaky laugh as she shuffles loose papers over her ruined page. "I rarely see you out of your office."

Elias offers a benign smile and gestures to one of the chairs at her table.

She hesitates, then nods.

He takes a seat with a soft huff of breath and looks at the shelves surrounding them. "I wanted to talk with you, Watcher to… temporary Archivist." Again, that smile. "I see that you're making yourself right back at home."

"I… I suppose?"

"Are your hands alright? I heard about what happened with Miss Perry." He gives a mournful shake of his head, and Sasha half expects him to say 'such a shame'. "I'm glad to see that you have Tim back under control."

Sasha immediately goes red, then cold dread fills her chest. "I'm not certain I know what you're talking about," she says, suddenly very aware of the way Tim's shirt fits on her frame. "He is perfectly in control of himself."

Elias turns up his hands in a placating gesture and pretends not to notice as Sasha adjusts the collar of the shirt to hide marks that aren't even there. "It's been a long three years." It's neither an agreement nor a statement to the contrary, but Sasha knows that he's not saying it to be nice to either herself or Tim.

"I'm certain you're busy, Watcher, and I don't wish to keep you with idle conversation." Sasha forces her hands to keep still on the table, unwilling to fidget in his presence. "What can I help you with?"

"Oh, I just wanted to check on your progress. See how the search for my Archivist is going."

She looks at the corner of the paper, covered in eyes, the list more questions than answers. "I would think you knew better than I do."

He waves a hand airily. "I can only see that he will be returned to me, but the details, Miss James, are the job of the Head Archivist." His smile feels like a knife between her ribs, a reminder of what she was unable to achieve and is still only borrowing through his assistance.

She doesn't know how to respond. She doesn't know what she expected.

It all feels wrong, but it has felt like this for so long that she never noticed until she came back to this place.

There's a footstep from several rows over, and Elias' gaze swivels away. "Basira," he says cheerfully. "Come join us."

Basira doesn't quite sulk out of the stacks, but she certainly doesn't look happy at being called over. "Elias," she says by way of greeting. "Surprised to see you out of your office."

"Yes, well, I wanted to see how Miss James was getting on in her search for our missing Archivist. So far it seems she's just made herself a more competent replacement." His tone implies that he's teasing, but the thing inside Sasha rages at his words.

It takes every bit of energy she has to not get up and leave. Running away would be admitting something she doesn't want to face.

Still, Basira's presence helps relieve the pressure of Elias' attention. Sasha reaches out with her senses, and lets that calm wash over her.

"We have our theories." Basira puts her hand on the back of Sasha's chair. “But it has barely been three days."

"Since Miss James has arrived, but longer since Jonathan has been missing."

There is a moment where the two of them stare at each other. Elias' smile widens slightly, the expression shifting into thinly veiled amusement as the seconds drag on.

Finally, there is a grunt of frustration from Basira. "It would go faster if you didn't seek to interrupt us."

Elias holds up his hands to defer to her. "Of course, my apologies. Like I said, I was just checking on Miss James, especially after Tim's breakdown just outside the Archives."

Sasha goes cold again. "As you can see, I am fine."

"Indeed," he says, not sounding entirely convinced. "Well, I'll leave you two to it then."

"Much obliged," Basira intones dryly and Elias gives her a thin smile before leaving.

Sasha remains frozen for several painful seconds until she finally moves to once again adjust the collar of the shirt.

Basira moves to sit in the recently vacated chair and does not comment. "I had hoped to catch you before he did."

A high, strained laugh works its way out of Sasha's mouth. "I appreciate the sentiment."

"I actually wanted to speak to you about something, if you have the time."

Sasha looks at her in surprise, then pushes aside the papers. "I can use all the assistance I can get, if that is what you mean."

Basira shrugs. "Sort of. It does have to do with a suspicion I brought to Jon a few months ago. And… a concern I have, regarding what has happened to you."

"How so?"

"My order, the Divine Host — the Blind, as you call us." Basira touches a hand to her breastbone, and Sasha wonders if she wears a pendant beneath her brocade robes. Then she reaches out and pulls the paper covered in eyes from the disorderly stack. With the charcoal stick from the pouch at her side, Basira begins to steadily and patiently blind every single one of them. "The legend is that we once captured a powerful entity that wanted to command the world."

Sasha watches as the eyes become awash with X's and jagged lines. It feels like a spell in its own way, and so she lets it happen without interruption.

"That entity was once a man named Jonah Magnus, who began to see the future, and sought to control it." Basira sets aside the stick and, just as methodically, she begins to tear the page. "I think you recognize that name."

"Jonah Magnus, the founder of the Institute," Sasha says despite how dry her mouth feels.

She nods. She sets aside two halves of an eye and begins on the next. "Given enough Watchers under his control, he sought to spread the power of the Eye and not only see the future, but arrange it to his whims."

"That obviously hasn't happened." It feels more like a question, begging for confirmation.

"Not yet."

"You have some reason to think that it will?"

Basira sets aside another jagged half of an eye. "I think it is in the process of happening, and that Elias needs Jon for that."

Sasha reaches out and covers Basira's hand with her own, pulling it away from the paper. "Speak clearly," she says, and she swallows back the taste of iron. "I do not have time for vaguery."

"Magnus has escaped from our captivity. Likely a weakening of any restraints and wards we had after all that time. The Order has sent members to Archives across the country in order to see if they can find any trace of where he has gone."

"And you think he is here?" Sasha asks, looking down at the mangled paper between them.

"I think that he is here." Basira crumbles the paper in one hand before offering it to Sasha. "I tried to bring my concerns to Jon, but I think he was too far gone by that point."

She takes the paper ball and focuses on it. It is a mass of strings, jumbled together. A few of them float off, severed by Basira's destruction. But the rest tangle into a cord that ties back to the Eye. Sasha listens, and the pieces inside of her clamor against the scrutiny.

The Eye remains silent, watching her back.

"Do you believe Jon to be Jonah Magnus?" she asks, trying to decide if she finds it ridiculous or not. "Jon. Jonah. You don't think that's a little too on the nose?" She had never seen Gertrude wield the level of power he had in that one moment against the Stranger.

She had never seen Gertrude do what she has done in the last two days.

"Not Jon, no."

"What, Elias?" Even as she says it, though, it doesn't seem too much of a stretch.

Basira shrugs. "It is only a theory. And I think that the Eye had its grip too far into Jon for him to be of any assistance. It aligns with what Georgie said, about the ritual in the lake."

"And you think that I am the better choice." It's not a question. It doesn't have to be. Elias does not want her to be the Archivist, despite the fact that she seems to be rapidly following in Jon's footsteps.

"I think you understand better than most what is at stake here." Basira rises to her feet and points at the crumbled paper. "I just ask that you consider it before your next move to recover the Archivist."

"I thought you wanted me to find him," Sasha says as Basira turns to leave.

She pauses, then slowly turns back to face Sasha. "You know as well as I do that there is a line between them," she says softly, almost in a confidential whisper. "I want you to find Jon, but I do not care what happens to the Archivist."

Sasha thinks about it as she listens to Basira's retreating footsteps.

She holds the paper in her palm, and tugs the strings together. One by one, she feeds them into the mark of the Desolation, and eventually, the paper turns to ash.

#the magnus archives #verse: every open eye #fic: lifeline #a lil miss fic

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scurvgirl · 5 years ago

Text

The Nature of Monsters, Part 3

Part 1 | Part 2

Kass struggles to accept help.

Melarue belongs to @justanartsysideblog

_____________________________

The next few days pass in much the same fashion as the first day she awoke. Her body is still recovering and she finds she tires easily, which means as much as she does not wish to, they remain in Melarue’s home. The second day, she makes remarks that they need to move on, but she has a coughing fit and is quickly taken to bed. Adair, the healer, is brought to her and simply explains that she has overexerted her exhausted lungs. With his guidance and blessing, Ash and Melarue insist she stay until she is fully recovered at least. Despite her concerns, she gives into them. It wouldn’t be protecting Ash in the long run if they were to run off and for her to die on Ash because she insisted on leaving before she was properly recovered.

In the meanwhile, she takes her repose in the library, finding she likes many of the books Melarue has stocked. And what she hasn’t read, she is interested in trying, compiling a list and gets to tackling it in short order.

Ash sets to school work as well with a new accessory - glasses. Melarue apparently had them made when they saw her struggling with reading a note. Every now and then, Kass hears her daughter gasp as she spies something new to gaze upon. Kass knew her daughter couldn’t see as well as some, but she never...spectacles are a new invention and not exactly accessible to someone of her station. As grateful and happy she is for her daughter, Kass worries this is just another debt she will never be able to repay Melarue. They haven’t asked for any payment or when Kass and Ash will leave, but surely they must feel the effects of their presence. The food costs alone have increased by two people and bringing Kass back from the depths of her illness, plus Ash’s glasses….

“It’s too much,” she tells Melarue on the seventh morning. Ash had just flitted from the room for a morning swim before her new tutor arrived. A tutor Melarue had hired. Kass rubs her horn, shaking her head.

“I can’t pay you, but I can work. I’m good with security, I could help out at one of your houses or...I can learn whatever it is you need because I can’t just sit here and let you...can you tell me what you want from me so I can do it? Please?” She pleads, her heart aching in her chest (though that may be her lungs).

They remain still at the table, the wide dark glasses hiding much of their expression.

“You want to know what I want?” They ask.

“Yes.”

“Very well. I want you to be healthy and happy, to relax and enjoy life for once. Ash was quite talkative while you were asleep. She told me of how you always worked to make sure her life was good. I heard of how hard you have allowed your life to be so hers isn’t. What I want, Kassaran, is for your life to not be so hard anymore. There are so few good people in this world, I would hate to see yet another kind soul squashed by the world.”

Too stunned to speak, Kass merely watches as Melarue rises from their seat. Their hand adjusts their glasses then touches their hair before turning and walking from the table. They pause at the double doors before speaking.

“Ash is a lovely girl, I hate to think of her living her life on the run.” They don’t wait for her reply before quickly exiting the room.

For a long moment, Kass just sits there. They want...her to be healthy and happy. Of all the things she expected, that was the last of them. And what was all that about the world squashing another kind soul? She wasn’t getting squashed. Alright, she nearly died last week but that was because of a disease. And yes, maybe she caught the disease because she was forced on the run by bigoted fools. The fact remained that she didn’t die...because of Melarue.

Damn, what kind of situation is this? She has faced more monsters than most hunters or mercenaries could ever hope to survive. She’s bested vampires, worms, werewolves, wild hippogriffs, a pack of crocottas, a very odd sphynx even! She engaged in verbal spars with a gigantic possessed tree that was somehow destroying a nearby apple orchard and would only stop once someone engaged in a battle of wit. On more than one All Soul’s Day, she has spoken with enraged spirits, dispelled ghosts, and even helped banish a demon with a determined priestess. She encountered a naga who was being hunted by a prince, saved her and helped her open a pottery store. So many things and creatures she has experienced, yet nothing in all of her experience of dangerous creatures could ever prepare her for this. She doesn’t even know what to call this. Hospitality is too tame a word and friendship is too familiar.

“Compassion is a strange thing to experience if someone has never felt its gentle touch,” the maid, Elsi, comments as she comes in to clean the table. Kass frowns.

“I know compassion. I’m a compassionate person.”

Elsi chuckles and looks up, her odd eyes catching the light, “Being compassionate and having compassion shown to you are two separate things, my lady.” When Kass continues to frown at the girl, she rolls her eyes and sets her cleaning supplies to the side.

“My mother was a harpy who was killed by a hunter who didn’t care to know that she wasn’t terrorizing anyone, just trying to provide for her three daugthers. My sisters were older and took after the hunter, promising to return but they never did. I was starving when Melarue found me. They groomed my feathers and took me in, offered me a place to stay until I was ready to go. I had been alone for three years by that point, scavenging for scraps of food. I didn’t know a kind soul for that entire time until they found me and I fought them hard. I attacked them, screamed at them, and they took it until I was calm enough to tend to me. It was so hard to accept the compassion and I kept feeling like I had to repay them - I brought them so many shiny rocks as is customary in harpy culture. But they wanted what they want for you - health, happiness, and freedom. I learned a valuable lesson from them in this,” Elsi pauses and reaches up to the collar of her dress, pulling out a necklace that copies Melarue’s. She unhooks it and Kass gasps in awe. Dull brown hair is replaced with soft brown feathers that cascade down her shoulders and join the great wings that spring from her back, flight feathers tipped in white. Unlike a full-blooded harpy, she retains separate arms from her wings, her hands however have talons rather than nails. She turns back to Kass, her eyes now showing avian sharpness and curiosity.

“People are quite like animals. If one has only experienced harsh touches and actions, they expect all touches and actions to be harsh. Compassion breaks that mold and it first feels like it must be insidious. It takes time to learn to accept the good when all you know is bad.” Elsi clicks the necklace back into place and she reverts back to her nondescript maid appearance. She gathers up the remains of breakfast and hurries back into the kitchen.

Kass blinks and tries to make sense of what just happened. She remembers a job she could have taken about five years ago, two villages coming together to expel a roost of dangerous harpies. The pay was very good but the village was just too far, Kass would have been gone for at least five months just for this one job. She knows the hunter responsible for completing it however, now lauded as a hero rather than just a mercenary hunter.

She wonders at what would have happened if she had accepted the job instead of him. Would this girl have suffered as much as she has?

It doesn’t do much to consider such things now, but it prickles at her mind. She could have helped instead of hurt, could have...but all the “coulds” in the world have never turned into a “did.”

Kass supposes there is truth to what Elsi said about compassion. It’s a wild thought to have, that she hasn’t experienced kindness in so long that she doesn’t know how to handle it. For so long she has been the mercenary, the hunter, compelled to do the right thing by her own moral compass, not because the world has been particularly good to her. Far from it.

No longer stunned into paralysis, Kass rises from the table and sets out to find Melarue. She is heading up the stairs when they appear at the top, dressed in a lovely gown of aubergine. There are black feathers atop their head and a small veil comes over their glasses, further obscuring their face.

“Melarue, I would like to apologize,” she says quickly seeing that they are donning their traveling gloves.

“For what?” They ask, stepping down to meet her as she climbs up.

“For my earlier outburst, I was being terribly ungracious and I see now that you are merely compassionate and I am so used to taking care of other people that I don’t have the slightest idea of how to let someone else take care of me,” she babbles quickly, only to stop when they reach up with their ungloved hand to press a single finger to her lips. She stills at their touch, their finger soft on her bitten lip.

“No apology is necessary, I understand. I was in a similar state when you found me in that cave.” Their hand shifts so that their fingertips caress her cheek in a quick motion. Electricity zings through her making her inhale sharply. The touch is over in a second. They retract their hand but do not move away from her.

“I will be back much later today,” they murmur, yet still they don’t move. They both stand there, not moving or speaking. She wonders if this is what happens right before they turn someone into a statue. She flexes her fingers to test the theory, finding she can move them, but her legs do not wish to move and neither do her eyes.

“I feel like I saw more of you in that cave than I do standing here,” she whispers, not knowing what inspired that comment. So inappropriate!

Their lips part to reply, but a door bangs open downstairs and the sound of shoes on tile echoes up the foyer.

“Melarue, the carriage has arrived,” Elsi calls, jarring them both out of whatever odd stasis had overtaken them. Melarue turns from Kass and slides the glove onto their hand then moves past her to finish their descent down the stairs. Kass turns to watch Elsi slide a coat onto them. Their movements are quick, purposeful, but they pause after opening the front door. They turn ever so slightly towards her before leaving.

The door clicks shut and silence resounds through the foyer.

Elsi glances up at Kass and smiles, “Stay awhile, will you?”

“Yes.”

Melarue doesn’t return until hours past dinner. The sun has long since set and Kass would have gone to sleep if she hadn’t been caught up in the thought of seeing them again. Clearly, rationality has left her. She is curled up in the library when a shadowed figure slowly walks by the open door. Kass closes the book she was reading and leaps up to follow the figure.

Only when she gets into the hallway does she recognize the figure as Melarue. They are lurching down the hallway, holding their hand up against the light. Their movements are stiff yet uncoordinated, as if nursing an injury. A quick glance to the floor confirms their it - drops of blood trail behind them.

“Melarue,” she calls. They pause and wave a still gloved hand at her.

“Leave me.”

“I can help,” she says, quickly reaching them. Their head is bent, hair hanging loosely to obscure their face. “Please, let me help,” she whispers. They don’t look at her but nod once. Relieved, Kass bends down and picks them up with ease.

“I can walk,” they protest.

“Not well, and not fast enough to make sure no one else sees,” she replies in a low voice. A disgruntled sigh escapes them and they do not protest again until she has them upstairs in their sitting room.

“Here, no further,” they murmur. She closes the door after setting them on a long tufted fainting couch. The gas lamps are still lit in the room, filling the space with a warm glow. When Kass turns to them, their face is contorted into a grimace of pain.

“Tell me what hurts.”

“My eyes, the lights...the glasses protect everyone else but after awhile…”

“It hurts you,” she finishes for them. She glances around the room, not finding anything she needs to help with that but she knows there are cloths and water in her bathroom. “I will be right back,” she tells them then slips from their room and hurries to her bathroom. She gathers up two cloths and soaks them in warm water before returning to Melarue’s side. She grabs her small first aid kit along the way as well.

“Shut your eyes,” she asks softly. She waits a second then reaches up and slowly eases the heavy glasses off of their face. They are...so beautiful, she thinks, with their sharp features and soft skin. But the pain lines their face and so she gently places the warm, wet cloth over their eyes.

“Relax,” she murmurs, then sets to work on finding the source of the blood. She finds it quickly enough on their left thigh, a stab wound that has not been bandaged properly. When she leans in, the edges of the wound reveal that there was a toxin used.

“The blade was poisoned.”

“Envenomed, no need to worry, I’m immune,” they say, but she tsks her tongue anyways and sets to cleaning the wound. She takes the catgut out of the stitching kit and heats a needle over one of the flames before stitching them as quickly as she dares. They grunt at the discomfort but otherwise do not speak. She bandages them anew and tells them she is going to put on a spot of healing tea.

They grimace, “Tea, must I suffer.”

“Melarue, you were stabbed.”

“I will withstand the wound.”

“You’re being a bit dramatic, the tea will help,” Kass argues but their mouth is set and she knows there will be no convincing them. Oddly enough, it makes her chuckle. “Very well, no tea. But you need rest, a good bit of it. You shouldn’t go out tomorrow.”

“The knife was aimed for one of my girls, I will need to check on her tomorrow. Her baby could come any day now.”

Kass raises an eyebrow at them, “Someone tried to stab pregnant woman?”

They wave, “Idiotic nobleman’s wife found out about his forays into the house. News traveled that the woman he favors there is pregnant. Since he was vain enough to assume the child is his, he set out to kill his supposed bastard child. Nevermind that the babe isn’t his, we serve all customers a twenty-four hour sterility tonic before seeing one of the workers. Still, I need to be there for her.”

“Smart of you to serve that tonic. But you need the rest. What if...what if I go in your stead? I’ve birthed a few babies in my time, and had a baby as well. Dealt with my fair share of bad folks, too,” she suggests, remaining kneeling by them.

“I cannot appear weak,” they say and she shakes her head.

“How is sending a large woman with a big sword with lots of experience in both of these areas appearing weak? Unless you see me as weak.”

They raise a finger at her, “You’re trying to manipulate me.”

She grins, “Transparently. Still, my points remain.”

Even when they cannot see her, they manage to raise their hand and bring it to her cheek, “I suppose I still struggle with accepting help.”

“The best of us do,” Kass whispers, resisting the urge to turn her head into their touch. That same electricity from earlier sparks along her skin, making her heart beat faster.

The corners of their lips turn upward and their fingers graze lower until they come to her lips. She stops breathing for the barest of moments as the fingers run along her lower lip.

“Very well,” they whisper so soft she nearly doesn’t catch it. They bring their fingers from her lips to theirs and their voice is louder when they speak, “Go.” It isn’t harsh, but equal parts request and command. One that she is quite happy to follow, her mind in tumultuous confusion and odd arousal.

She leaves the room and dashes to her own, shutting the door, hoping that perhaps the physical barriers between them will calm the thundering of her heart. For all her experience, she never is prepared for them, she realizes.

Kass touches her lip where they had, remembering the soft pressure of their fingers. Is it possible they are doing this to her on purpose? There are creatures out there with immense seductive powers and Melarue’s powers have never been mapped in totality. It’s...possible, she supposes, but she doubts for some reason they would use it on her. They made sure she was protected from their eyes and have avoided her for the most part. They are polite in her company, and it is only recently, after their touches, that she has begun to feel this confusing way.

For all the vipers’ nests she’s been in, both metaphorical and literal, she never anticipated being holed up so happily in one.

The next day, Kass wakes early and dons her mercenary gear. She braids her hair back and adopts her stern, ‘I’m a badass mercenary hunter, don’t mess with me’ look. She looks in the mirror and for the first time in too long of a time she doesn’t feel dread. For so long, this gear meant a hunt or a run, it meant separation from Ash and doing things she didn’t agree with. It meant sacrificing part of herself for survival. Now, however, she feels purposeful. She is going to help this girl at the house and Melarue, and she won’t feel like she’s a useless lump around this mansion.

Kass leaves the room with more pep in her step than usual. It’s early enough that the sky is still a rich blue with night, only now beginning to light. It’s her favorite time of day, when the dark is just about to be extinguished by the light, but in the meanwhile, the sky is so blue and pure and beautiful.

The house is just waking as well. Kass comes across Elsi on her way to the kitchen for breakfast to find the girl not yet disguised. Her wings are stretched out as she yawns, her talons flexed as she shakes off sleep.

“Good morning, Elsi,” Kass says, scooching by her, careful not to touch her wings.

“Good morning, Kassaran. Melarue is in the sunroom and would like to speak with you before you depart. I’ll bring out tea and scones for you.” The girl clicks her necklace into place, her wings shimmering from view.

“Thank you, and you don’t need to do that. You should be comfortable,” Kass says.

“That is very kind of you, but I’m more comfortable this way. Anyone could come over and I...would not like to be caught unawares.” Kass nods her understanding. As much as Melarue has created a safe haven for atypical creatures, the world is still not safe for them. Elsi has seen and experienced too much to not be paranoid about being caught as masquerading as a human. She would also risk ousting Melarue and any other monstrous people who live in this house.

Elsi walks to the kitchen while Kass changes direction and heads for the sunroom. The room is adjacent to the glassed-in pool, angled to catch the morning sun. Even now, what little light that is beginning to shed this early is funneled straight into the room. Melarue sits close to a window, their back turned to the light. They are unlike any time Kass has seen them - free of makeup and pomp, dressed only in a plush robe and a large wrap around their head containing their hair.

They are wearing their glasses again, seeming recovered enough to don them once more. They sip from a large mug, steam curling upward to fog their glasses.

Their neck is bare.

It takes Kass a moment to realize they are allowing themselves to appear as they truly are to her. Their gaze is withheld for protection, but here they are in the light, unadorned. Her heart clenches at the sentiment as she takes a seat in the seat across from them.

“Good morning,” she greets. They lower the mug, but keep it between their hands. Her brow furrows as she notes how their shoulders remain close to them and exactly how thick the material of their robe is.

“Are you cold? I could fetch you a blanket or -

They wave her off, “I am always cold in the morning. It is a part of...who I am.”

“Don’t tell Ash, she’ll make it her personal mission to keep you warm and may accidentally set you on fire,” Kass jokes, trying to lighten the mood. Their mouth quirks up.

“I am aware of her gift, she will be quite the talented mage. Her tutor is here to assist her with the gift as well as her academics.”

“You’ve thought of everything, haven’t you,” Kass says, only slightly surprised at this point.

Their expression turns into a full smirk, “Not everything.”

Elsi chooses that moment to enter the room, setting a tray full of scones, soft-boiled eggs, and tea fixings on the table between Kass and Melarue. Both of them thank Elsi before she slips out again. After a moment, Kass leans forward and fixes her cup of tea - peppermint by the smell, her favorite - and takes a scone along with a good smattering of the clotted cream. Melarue takes a scone and the entire platter of eggs, moving the plate to a table to their immediate right.

Kass sips her tea and eats her scone. It’s all very delicious of course, the chef is nothing short of amazing. She tries not to pay too much attention to how Melarue eats, but it’s difficult. It’s different from when they have joined Kass and Ash for meals in the past. They eat the eggs first in quick order - all five halves. Before, they ate leisurely, often not finishing much of anything, but here they seem to inhale their food.

They pause and she feels their gaze shift to her, “My apologies, I-

“No need to apologize,” she says quickly, “diets are part of it. I fed a vampire once, this isn’t nearly as...if anything, the onus on me, I shouldn’t stare. My apologies.”

She turns back to her tea, letting its warmth heat her up from the inside out. She does not look up again until they speak once more.

“The carriage will come for you soon. My driver will take you to the house, he will be instructed to wait for one of my people to bring materials for me. You will be met by Morwen, ask him to send Aster back with the carriage with all of the books. Morwen will take you to Suvenin, you are to check on her and remain present throughout the day to make sure nothing goes awry. I have written notes for Morwen, Aster, and Suvenin so they know this as per my request.” They hand over the letters and Kass nods, tucking them into the interior breast pocket of her coat.

“Morwen wears a similar necklace as I do,” Melarue says in a measured voice. Kass nods again, knowing that anything that could give Melarue and the others away also gives up her and her daughter. She needs the preparation that Morwen is like them, however, to make sure she doesn’t give any hints. She’s a former hunter, there are always eyes, always someone who is a little too observant who can be taken advantage of.

“You are unfortunately very recognizable,” they continue, leaning down to bring up a small wooden box. They set it on the table, nudging it towards her. She picks it up and opens it, finding a necklace mimicking their own.

“I started the commission for two necklaces when you and your daughter initially arrived. This is the only one that is ready.”

But these are for monsters, she wants to say but she bites her tongue. Is she not a monster now too? Is she not on the run from those who would slay her and her daughter for merely existing? Pursing her lips, Kass lifts the necklace and snaps it into place around her neck. The tingle of magic vibrates all over her, her skin turning from its soft grey to a cool dark brown. She reaches up and feels her horns, but she somehow also knows that those are no longer visible. A glance at her arm reveals that her pearly white hair is now a stark black.

“Your eyes are the same,” Melarue says, “the eyes are one thing the necklace cannot disguise.” They say it with a hint of bitterness that betrays them.

Kass gives them a reassuring smile, “I’ll make sure it goes well. They’re safe with me.”

“I know,” they say softly. Their ear twitches and Kass swears she sees their hair covering move, but they reach up and adjust the tie and it’s as if nothing happened.

“Please remember to rest today,” she reminds them, “some light book work should be fine, but sleep really is the best thing for you right now.”

“Always the mother,” they tease and she shrugs.

“I care.” Their expression softens and they reach up to pat at their hair covering, seemingly at a loss for words. The loss oddly fills Kass with a pride she has no business feeling. She’s had no business feeling half the feelings she’s been having to begin with, she doesn’t need to add this to the pile. Kass rises from her seat and walks over to them, still adjusting to see brown skin when she’s accustomed to grey.

She sticks out her hand to them, trying not to stare at her befuddling color, “I customarily shake hands with my employer after taking a job. Seals the deal, so to speak.” They eye the hand before sliding theirs to shake hers. Long, slim fingers slide against her palm and hold her hand as she grasps theirs. Their skin is so soft, so smooth and the touch feeds a hunger that has been growing inside of her.

They release her, a small smile spreading across their face, “It’s sealed. If you need assistance, do not hesitate to send for me.”

“Of course. Now rest up, or I’ll make you drink that tea.” She wags her finger at them as she strides from the room and towards the front to meet the driver.

#my writing #the nature of monsters #kassaran #melarue #caserole #elsi #elsi works because she wants to

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headoverjojo · 6 years ago

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Could we get the “s/o in their clothes” ask in la squadra flavour? Sfw and nsfw?? 👀

Oh god sure you can 👀

La Squadra reacting to their s/o wearing their clothes

SFW

Risotto Nero

Risotto is huge. He’s tall and muscular, so it’s pretty difficult to fit in his clothes without seeming ridiculous. Indeed, the first time he catches them in such a state, he even lets out a huffed laugh, helping them, then, to slide off his way too big clothes, going back to work. They huff, pouting: this is not what they wanted!!

In the end, the only garment they can wear in his hat. Risotto has at least a couple of spare hats and they take one, wearing it and adjusting it, so it doesn’t slide on their eyes. After looking around, they even try to imitate his stern expression and way to talk, trying also to stifle their laugh, perfectly knowing they’re fooling around.

Little they know that Risotto, hidden by Metallica, is observing them. He feels his heart warm, while he allows himself to smile a little -no one can see him, so it’s fine-. Seeing them with his hat makes him feel even more connected to them in unspoken ways. Then, when they start to imitate him, he lightly huffs, amused, letting the cover fall and sliding behind them, making them jolt and blush ‘till no end. He huffs again, petting their covered hair, and tells them that they could be a perfect substitute, making them giggle. He’s amused, thank goodness!

Prosciutto

His s/o always admired how fancy and soft his clothes were and the temptation to try them on was always strong. One day, so, they give in and, when he’s out for a meeting, they decide that it’s time to finally satisfy this little guilty pleasure.

They take their sweet time testing the fabric, amazed by its high quality and smoothness: it’s really a haute couture garment. They are really careful while they put on the yellow shirt, followed by his purple jacket -not the trousers, Prosciutto is all legs and so the trousers are too long for them- and smile, feeling their skin gently caressed by the fabric. Prosciutto has really good tastes…

They yelp, when Prosciutto enters home while they still have his clothes on. They deeply blush, when he stops dead on his track, studying them, silent. Before they can mumble excuses, however, he marches to them, smoothing the collar of the jacket and saying, with a grin, that he couldn’t blame them: he perfectly knows that his clothes are really comfortable. He just says that, next time, they can ask him, before trying them on and not doing it sneaking like a thief.

Pesci

His s/o absolutely loves his furred sleeveless coat. It’s so fuzzy and warm! When they hug him, they love to nuzzle their face on the furred collar, humming contently when he hugs them back. It makes them feel so safe and warm!

So, even if he’s home, they pick his coat and wear it. It’s way bigger than them, more than a coat it seems a royal cloak! They giggle, roaming around, all enveloped in the fuzzy and warm fabric, feeling safe and warm as when Pesci hugs them. And it has his scent! They nestle in it, humming contently and with no intentions of taking it off.

When Pesci sees them like this, he melts. He’s a blushing and happy mess and, when they reveal why they actually put on his coat, he feels his heart swell and fill with love. He hugs them as well, making them happily squeal and putting them on his lap and softly cuddling with them, with a big, happy smile.

Formaggio

If compared to the others’, Formaggio’s clothes are pretty normal. He usually personalizes and mends them personally, since he had to learn to do it when he was a teenager, to save money, and now it’s a habit. His clothes are a bit ruined and lived up, but he actually takes good care of them, so it isn’t very notable.

Even if they’re not the fanciest or the most particular ones, his s/o loves Formaggio’s clothes, to the point that they want to try them on. And they do so, when he’s still asleep, paying attention not to ruin them. They smile, twirling around and sinking their face in the fabric, deeply breathing his familiar scent, almost stumbling when he sees him perfectly awake and watching them with a smug smile.

He asks them to come near and, when they do so, he hugs them, keeping them on his lap, admiring them and saying that they are really a pretty little thing, with his clothes on. He feels so proud and happy to see them dressed like him! He really wouldn’t mind to see them dressed more in his clothes.

Melone

Melone’s clothes are indecent. They’re almost not even clothes, anyone could spot them by really far and they’d make any stylist faint on spot. And that’s why his s/o loves them. Melone dresses like he pleases, he doesn’t feel the need to follow any fashion sense or trend. He’s completely himself! And this leads them to want to try his clothes on, to feel like him for a bit.

So they put it on -or, better, try without tearing it apart- and, since Melone is really thin and not so tall, it fits them pretty well. They blush, feeling so much exposed skin, but they steel themselves: who cares!! So, they try to walk around home with a straight back and pride, feeling, minute after minute, more and more secure. It really works!!

When Melone comes home and finds them like this, he loses his mind. Why haven’t they call him?? He lost such a beautiful sight!! He fills them with compliments, watching them as they’re the most beautiful thing in the whole galaxy, with a smile so big that it seems it can break his face. He hugs them tightly, squealing happily, and definitely asks them to wear his clothes again.

Illuso

Let’s be honest, Illuso’s clothes are a quilt with buttons. Even if, purely from a visual point, they could be pretty, well, questionable, no one can deny they’re soft and comfortable. It’s like wearing a quilt and quilts are soft and fluffy. So are Illuso’s clothes and his s/o loves to wear them when he’s on mission.

They do so mostly because they miss him and his clothes are the easiest way to feel him near. Casual clothes or working clothes, they don’t care: they all have on his smell and they often even fall asleep with them on. They always managed not to eve be catched, however: call it luck, they always managed to change back to their clothes before Illuso’s arrival from the mirror.

One day, however, he catches them with his clothes on. They’re chilling on the couch, all enveloped in his quilted suit and, by seeing the way they softly caress the fabric and how they sink their face in it and inhale, he understands that maybe they miss him more than what they say. He feels a pang of guilt in his guts and hurries to them, immediately hugging and kissing them, not even bothering to say something about his clothes.

Ghiaccio

He doesn’t care a lot about his clothes. The only thing that really means to him are his glasses: they’re his distinctive sign, the thing that makes him immediately recognizable -as the azure curls weren’t enough-, so he doesn’t mind if his s/o puts his clothes on. Just… stay away from his glasses. He doesn’t know mercy, if something happens to it.

So, his s/o sticks to his clothes: formal, casual, it doesn’t matter. They love to put them on, smelling them: they smell of mint, Ghiaccio’s favourite scent. When they’re at home, they almost never have on clothes that aren’t Ghiaccio’s. They’re so comfy and they smell so nice!

When Ghiaccio sees them with his clothes on, his heart skips a beat. He’d never say it aloud, but seeing them like this, well… it makes him feel at home. Like he has a real family, someone who really loves him and waits for his return. It always hits him like a rocket and he hides his blush in a harsh kiss, so his s/o can’t see how red his cheeks are.

(Under the cut for the NSFW part!)

NSFW

Risotto Nero

Wearing Risotto’s clothes means going around basically naked. He’s not indifferent to this little detail: his eyes indulge on their curves barely covered by his too big clothes, on the straps that gently cover their chest… and, when he leans to kiss them, he can smell his scent on them, stronger than ever. This is what really leads him over the edge.

He’s unusually docile, when they wear his clothes, especially his hat. He loves to hear the metal spheres sharply jingle one against the other, while they top him, searching for their release, and to clash his own hat’s metal spheres against their hat’s ones, while he firmly grips their face to properly kiss them.

Prosciutto

Seeing his s/o in his clothes, well… was something. They look so fancy and pretty, especially with that smug grin that graces their lips… he’s on them in a matter of minutes, kissing them and testing the fabric he knows so well wrapped around their beautiful curves. It drives him crazy.

To complete their look, he even put on them his precious pendant, unbuttoning, of course, their yellow shirt. He doesn’t go around with his pecs covered, they have to respect it! And it’s also a good excuse to lavish their chest with kisses and bites, of course, but mainly it’s for love of realism, absolutely!

Pesci

Pesci loves to have his s/o all nestled on his lap while they have his coat on. It’s fuzzy and keeps them both warm! But, also, seeing them wearing something so distinctive as his coat makes him feel like… they belong to him as much as he belongs to them. In a real, deep way that makes him all flushed and dry his mouth.

And so his s/o notices it -it’s frankly hard not to notice it- and tease him, with soft kisses and touches that lead to them with only his coat on, on top of him, flushed and sweaty skin and fingers interweaved. They definitely will wear more his coat.

Formaggio

The first thing this man is going to do is to kiss his s/o exposed tummy and to blow raspberries on it, making them laugh and snort, while he laughs his ass off as well. He couldn’t resist! His s/o’s bare stomach was so near, he had to!!

This leads them on the bed, with him covering them with his body. Even if they’re still chuckling and giggling, their kisses lead to more. Formaggio loves so much to see his s/o in his clothes that he even doesn’t take off the shirt, watching with pride and satisfaction as they squirm in pleasure with his shirt on.

Melone

Melone just waits a good opportunity to jump on the sexy train with his s/o. What better opportunity than his s/o with his clothes on? Yes, he’s happy and he feels all fuzzy and proud, but also, well… his clothes aren’t really covering, so his eyes can roam on his s/o’s exposed skin and this wakes up desires and needs.

His mouth is immediately on them, kissing and licking, tracing his own jumpsuit’s hems, making them shiver and whimper. He evilly grins, slowly carrying them to bed, taking advantage of his clothes’ indecence to tease them ‘till they’re a whimpering and begging mess, to his immense satisfaction.

Illuso

Illuso’s clothes aren’t the sexiest around, but this doesn’t mean that they don’t have a certain appeal. If his s/o has his “official” uniform on, he can lavish them from their navel to the chest button, which he pops open with a evil grin, before going on with his ministrations.

Spicy sessions when both of them have on the official uniform are really padded and comfortable. They couldn’t be otherwise, with all that quilt-like fabric! None of them complains, of course: they can enjoy each other’s company while being comfortable, what can they ask more?

Ghiaccio

Ghiaccio has really a thing for his s/o wearing his shirts. Especially baggy shirts which cover them a little down their bottom, leaving their legs exposed: this is Ghiaccio’s end. He just loves to much his s/o’s thighs and they’re so nicely framed by his own shirt that he has to take them on his lap and caress them, while tormenting their neck with nibbles and kisses.

He’d take them without even removing his shirt from them, intoxicated by their natural scent mixed with his mint one, a mix so perfect and powerful to drive him crazy. This is the real sign that they’re his, always with him, that they love him and he doesn’t want anything more than this.

#jjba #vento aureo #la squadra di esecuzione #risotto nero #prosciutto #pesci #formaggio #melone #illuso #ghiaccio #neutral s/o #s/o wearing the boys' clothes #headcanons #not so sfw #anon ask

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