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garfunklefield · 15 days

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What about a Gojo prince x a princess reader and its love at first sight? Then maybe they have some breeding-kink related sex, and perhaps they say I love you?

Whimper Like a Prince!

18+ viewer discretion is advised

fem!princess!reader/prince!Satoru Gojo Warnings: perverted gojo, heavy breeding kink, arranged marriage, creampie, p in v sex, pussy eating, fingering, multiple orgasms, squirting, L bomb, gojo will whimper trust, love at first sight, porn with plot or should I say plot with porn :), bathroom masturbation, gojo cums in his pants Word count: 4591 DESC:You and your new husband procreate

Back at it again with the subby gojo

Satoru never thought of himself as a pervert. In fact, he considered himself basically asexual, from how no one had ever interested him. No woman or man ever caught his attention, not even a little bit. There had to be something wrong with him, his parents thought so. They deliberated for days before going to their son and telling him about you. You were supposed to be different. You were supposed to be the perfect woman to marry into the Gojo clan. And you were the one they had signed him off to be married to.

“Seriously? Not even in a say in my own wedding?” The Prince groaned, throwing his head back and letting white locks flow across his forehead. It was a pain to have to share a room with someone. Become married. All of it. It was a pain! He didn’t want to know anyone, he didn’t want to know you. He couldn't care less if it offended his parents or hurt your feelings; He didn’t want to do it.

His life was fine! He could do whatever he wanted without a woman bossing him around. This would ruin it. This would make everything all wrong. Satoru said nothing else as his parents continued to lecture about how this would be good for him, a change of pace. How you were calm and reserved and perfect. All that bullshit he was tired of hearing. He didn’t care how perfect or beautiful you were, he didn’t want you. So he declined to see your photos and got up, strolling out of the common room and into one of the hallways.

What's worse is they didn’t tell him that when he woke up the next morning and got dressed in the white suit they had laid out for him, Satoru was going to be wed. It was a pure white suit, white coat, and white undershirt, paired with white shoes and pants. It was a bit weird, making him look paler than he actually was. He looked like a demon, staring at his own blue eyes in his reflection. Who was that man? Who was the beast before him who was watching with a hungry gaze? A beast who longed to be forever alone. Satoru wasn’t scared of intimacy but he sure as hell didn’t like it. Maybe he avoided it as much as possible, that wasn’t wrong, was it? He didn’t need to be intimate with anyone as long as he had a say in it. So safe to say, he was a virgin. Unless you count fooling around with his best friend, which he didn’t.

One maid knocked on his door and spoke quietly, saying his parents requested to meet him in the outdoor corridor. Gojo nodded and silently rolled his eyes, praying it wasn’t for scheduling the wedding. What he didn’t know was he was walking into his own wedding. He didn’t pay attention to the loud fanfare outside, it was probably just one of his parent's parties he was being forced to make an appearance at. Whatever, it wasn’t like it affected him in any way to say hi to a few guests. Then he could retreat into his room and hide underneath a blanket until the world disappeared.

“Toru, honey, in here!” His mother, the queen, called out from a column that lined the huge archway, leading outside. He perked up at the sound of his mother's voice and followed it closely. Although it was hard to hear from all the music and noise, he managed to find her. She was in a long white gown, which didn’t catch him off guard, it was the scene behind her. A wedding. His wedding. Half of the seats were people wearing white, signaling his side of the family. Then the other half wore red, signaling yours. It made sense, his kingdom's colors were blue and white to symbolize a Gojo’s typical eye and hair color.

His mouth twitched on the edge and slowly hung open, gaping at the scene, “Mom… are you fucking with me right now?” Satoru turned to look at her, with his eyes widening in a newfound rage. He was getting married now!? Now!!! In front of all these people! Oh but the mysterious and perfect you was nowhere to be seen.

“Now, now… don’t give me that. It’s for the better,” she smiled reassuringly and attempted to put a hand on her son's shoulder blade, to calm him. Instead, he shrugged out of her grasp with a grumble and straightened his suit jacket. There had to be a way to get out of this. There had to be a way to get out of all of this.

“Introducing!!!” A loud man shouted from a balcony overtop Satoru and his mother, “The crowned prince, Satoru Gojo, and the Queen!” A large spotlight flickered over to the both of them, stopping him in his tracks as he attempted to leave. He stared into the light like a deer caught in headlights unsure what to do. He was fucked. He was totally and utterly fucked.

He felt his mother nudge his side, with a tense and tight grin upon her frail lips, “You have five seconds to stand straight before I slap you Satoru,” she spoke between her smile. Her son did as he was told and straightened his posture, turning on the perfect mask of a prince who wanted to get married. His eyes turned kind and his smile flashed wide. He looked like the perfect prince about to be wed to some nobody.

His mother grabbed his hand and pulled him down the aisle, smiling and waving to everyone as she did so. Satoru refused to truly make eye contact with anyone, he didn’t want to exist. He wanted to pretend this was all some fucked up dream he was going to awaken from at any moment. Just getting pinched and sent back into bed was all he wanted. The Queen let go of his hand and signaled him to go on further, standing on the pedestal designated for the two truly participating in this wedding. He didn’t look as the loud man cleared his throat and introduced you by your name, he didn’t care to learn it. But something took over Satoru, maybe it was curiosity or just pure boredom, but he looked over at you.

And his … his heart stopped.

You were purely and utterly perfect in every shape of the word. Your face was adorned with jewels and makeup from your homeland, all red. Your hair was the same fiery red, and put up into an intricate style. But he wasn’t looking at that. Your face, your beautiful face. It was unique and something he’d never seen before. Features, that were all different from those of him and his family. Fuck … he liked it a lot. The way your lips jutted out in a regular stance, painted with a deep crimson. Then his eyes trailed down to your chest.

Satoru never thought of himself as a pervert … until he met you. Your breasts were thick and filled with fat, hanging perfectly against your body. They perked up against your dress in a way that couldn’t have been natural, maybe by a bra of some kind that he couldn’t see. Your dress collar went low, exposing the skin between your breasts. There was something about him he wanted to squeeze and palm until you couldn’t take it. He wanted to rip apart your dress and taste your sweet nipples, feeling you grow wet under his touch. This sudden lust was becoming too much and it didn’t help he took in the rest of your figure. Your stomach lightly jutted out against your tight dress, followed by thick love handles and hips. He caught himself salivating just at the thought of pressing you against the wall and becoming suffocated by the plush, soft skin of your thighs.

He turned away from staring at you and instead began to worry about the problem brewing in his pants. A very apparent and very erect problem. He was straining against his tight boxers and even tighter slacks, desperately aching for release. He wanted to rip apart his pants and touch himself while watching you stare at him indifferently. He loved it, fuck, he loved you. Was that possible? Was he just so overcome with lust it was blurring the lines of love? Well, he had never felt love before, so maybe it was the same as lust!

You approached him, with an older man on your left. He let go of your hand and let you step onto the pedestal yourself, coming face to face with your future husband. He couldn’t even feign disinterest or boredom, being this close to you was agony. Satoru’s body was purely on fire and he needed you to put it out with your touch. He stared at you, waiting for something to happen. The officiant began to speak her speech, but he heard nothing. All he could do was stare into your wide eyes as you stared into his. Did you feel the same thing as him? Were your souls becoming intertwined with every passing second, or was it just him?

“...Do you take Satoru Gojo to be your lawfully wedded husband?” The officiant asked you, turning your attention away from your future husband. You looked at her, then at Satoru.

Biting your bottom lip, you nodded, “I do.” Your voice. Your fucking voice. He was going to cum in his pants. Your voice was angelic, pure gold sliding into his senses. It was beautiful, you were beautiful! Everything about you was absolutely beautiful.

“Satoru Gojo do-” The officiant began but she was cut off by Satoru’s abrupt, “I do.”

Your eyes widened at the sight. He couldn’t tell what you were thinking but he didn’t care about that. He wanted to touch you so bad it was starting to hurt him and his cock. He was throbbing and aching for release, aching for you to release him from these chains. All you had to do was just touch his hand or his arm, and he’d find peace.

“By the power vested in me by the kingdom, I pronounce you two man and wife. You may now kiss the bride,” she cleared her throat, stepping back and motioning to the newlywed couple. Satoru’s heart jumped from his chest to his throat. Kissing? They were going to kiss? Oh no. That was bad. That was going to be very bad.

He stared at the officiant to you, pressing his lips in a thin line. Well… she did say kiss. What’s the worst thing that could happen? Satoru quickly began to convince himself he’d be fine, which was a mistake. He stepped forward and put two hands against your cheeks, inhaling to take in your warmth. You were the living embodiment of perfection, the soul of beauty, and the goddess of his life. Who cares if you just met two minutes ago?! Love at first sight can exist! Without saying anything else, he gave you a look which you nodded to, signaling you were ready for the kiss.

Then your two souls became one and your lips pressed together. Annddd he came in his pants. Satoru didn’t mean for it to happen but the pleasure of being so close to you, smelling your scent, and feeling your body warmth. It felt so good, he let himself slip and found himself cumming into his pants from the sensation. Your lips were so soft and glossed up, molding against his in a very G-rated kiss. Although, he wished for more. He wanted to taste your tongue so badly. You pulled away first, staring at him. His face was red with flushed bits of pink scattering his hazy cheeks. His lips were delicately traced with gloss, and his eyes were fogged over. Small panting breaths came out of him as you both looked at each other.

“Did you…” You mumbled, nodding your head in the direction of his pants.

“...Nu-uh…” Satoru whispered back, pulling back completely and clearing his throat, “BRB for normal reasons now,” he flashed his mother a winning smile and then promptly walked off the podium. It didn’t really matter, as the families had begun to mingle. So no one noticed him slipping out and wandering back to one of the many guest bathrooms in the palace. You watched him walk away with a different look in your eye that he didn’t have time to dissect.

Satoru had one goal in the bathroom: clean his underwear and not take too long. He dropped his pants and stared at himself in the mirror, he looked like a complete mess. Nothing had ever made him cum like that. Sure he never felt attraction to people but he was a guy! Morning wood is a real issue. He let out a sigh and assessed the damage, pulling off his pants and underwear to begin to properly clean it. But something else took over him as he pulled out a roll of toilet paper. He could just fuck himself to the thought of you in here and no one would know. He could touch himself and think about how you felt against his touch, your plump skin, and your warm lips.

A hand trailed from the toilet paper down to his growing and twitching cock. It was aching to be touched. His palm covered the tip and then sank, snaking around the shaft. With a small and gentle motion, he began to rub himself off. His hand didn’t feel as good as he knew yours would. Something about your small hands against his cock, taking him and feeling him in the ways he liked. Then your pretty mouth, gagging on his dick. He could practically feel your lips sucking his tip, and your tongue trailing around his urethra hole. It was too much for him and he had just begun to jack off, quickly cumming into his hand. It was a quick wave of pleasure that ran up his length and shot out his tip, into his hand. Satoru let out a shaky moan and kept stroking himself, cumming against the pleasure.

Fuck he needed you so bad.

Satoru had no idea you’d be waiting in his room after he got out of the bathroom. His underwear was completely past saving and he needed to change into something less cum filled. When he saw you seated on his bed, two arms crossed against your breasts he gasped. Two brows raised in confusion furrowed a bit, “Wh… Why are you in here?”

“Did you cum in your pants?” You raised an eyebrow at him, watching him with your same blank stare. He blinked a few times. Oh! So you did notice more than he thought!

He let out a small laugh and closed the door behind him, locking it subtly as he did so, “Whaaat? Why’d you say that?”

“I heard you moan when we kissed. You got all … flustered,” you explained, motioning with your hands. As you moved, your breasts bounced against your skin, exposing them to Satoru’s perverted gaze. He was half paying attention and mainly salivating. He wanted to rub his swollen cock on your nipple and feel it harden, then fuck your tits until he came all over them. Then he wanted to grab them until you couldn’t bear it from sensitivity.

“Why are you in here?” He asked, a low tone taking hold of his voice. You both were married now. It wouldn’t hurt to get more acquainted, would it? And it wouldn’t hurt to be more bold now, would it? Satoru began to approach you, kicking off his shoes and pulling at his white tie, his eyes on you like a predator on his innocent prey.

“I… wanted to ask if you were okay,” your eyes met his and you bit your bottom lip. Fuck… just like that. He wanted you to bite your lip as he went down on you and fucked your tight cunt with his tongue. He wanted you to cross your eyes as he pumped you full of his kids, of the next generation. God, just the thought began to make him hard all over again.

“Then why’re you on my bed?” He tilted his head, shrugging off his suit jacket and letting it hit the ground. You swallowed and moved both hands from your sides to rest behind you, stretching yourself back a bit. All for him, huh? He didn’t know you were a little tease.

“Satoru,” you began but your breath caught in your throat when he was too close. He stood between your slightly spread legs, using his own knee to spread yours a bit more. The tension was so thick he could practically cut it with a knife. He needed you so bad, to run his hands along your fat skin and taste the wetness leaking from your cunt. He knew you were wet, you had to be. There was no way you’d be in this position and not be even the littlest bit aroused. He was aroused, it was obvious from the boner in his pants.

He breathed out your name and sunk onto his knees, “If you don’t stop me in five seconds, I’m continuing,” one hand ran up your thigh, up your stomach and grabbed hold of your panties, “One,” he pulled at the hem of your underwear, “Two,” he pulled it down your thighs with one hand, “Three” it was down to your ankles, “Four” your dress was pushed up past your hips, “Five,” his mouth was face to face with your soaked pussy. You were gorgeous, perfect flaps waiting to be spread open by his mouth.

“Sa..” You went to begin but his mouth was on your spot. You weren’t going to stop him anyway. Two fists balled up against the sheets and you felt him press a hand on your stomach, signaling you should lay down. Your legs found themselves thrown up against his shoulders, so he could be even closer to your wetness. Two hands suctioned against your hips and he did his magic. For someone who had never eaten pussy he was surprisingly good at it, lapping at you like you were the best meal he’s ever had. You tasted like savory heaven, something he’d never want to give up. His tongue rolled around your cunt for a few moments before he latched onto your sweet cunt, sucking like he never had before. He felt you tense up, rolling your hips to the sensation, and he knew he had found the perfect spot to please you.

“Pl.. f-f-fuck… pleas- hah.. Mmm… please,” you whimpered, gasping and arching your back to the sensation. He wanted you to cum just had he had several times before. Satoru pulled his face back from your pussy, his chin glistening with your wetness, and pulled one hand from your hip. He needed to make you cum any way he could, and he’d heard that fingering made women feel pretty good. With ease, he sunk digit after digit inside of you, filling you up with three fingers. You felt so warm and plush, sticky, and … fuck warm.

“What a whore, huh? You take all my fingers…” Gojo mumbled, leaning forward and pressing his mouth on your clit. He pushed his fingers in then out, and in then out, in a rhythmic dance to stimulate your senses. He felt your spongey walls clench around him when he hit your perfect spot and kept going, making sure to abuse it as best he could. His mouth helped too, licking your juices up as if there was no tomorrow, in his mind there wouldn’t be. He had to make the best of here and now as if he’d never get this chance again.

He could tell you were close when your noises got louder, and your voice reached a higher octave. You moaned and groaned his name, begging to release all over his face. And when you did, you did something a bit unexpected. You squirted. Your body tensed and you rolled your hips a few times, going silent before a loud moan escaped your lips. Satoru didn’t stop and didn’t stop when he felt you cum all over him. It sprayed over his face, just getting a bit of his chin and neck but he didn’t care. Fuck, he thought it was the hottest thing he’d ever seen!

Satoru pulled back and grinned, “I’m gonna fuck you until I can’t cum anymore, kay?” He didn’t wait for an answer, bringing you up further on the bed by your arms then promptly pouncing on you. You gasped when his mouth assaulted yours in a sloppy R-rated kiss. His tongue lapped yours and tased your saliva, moaning for more. It felt so good, building a burning sensation deep in his stomach. He needed to get off, and he needed to get off now. You heard him moan and whine into the kiss as he did exactly what he wanted to and touched your full breasts. He squeezed and palmed the skin just to hear you moan and whimper that it was too sensitive. That’s what made him strain more against his pants.

He sat up and took off his pants, well attempted to. Satoru struggled against his belt, to the point where you had to sit up and help him. You cleared your throat and pulled off the belt, beginning to unbutton his pants, “So… did you also learn about the marriage yesterday?”

The white-haired male let out a lust-filled laugh and nodded, “Didn’t know it was happening today, though.” Once his pants were unbuttoned he shimmied out of them and his boxers, kicking them to the side and getting right back on top of you, “Mm…” he moaned against your mouth as he brought you back into a kiss, “I’m gonna fuck you till you’re swelling with my kid,” you moaned into the kiss when he said that, joining him in filling the room with your joint noises.

Satoru pulled back and looked down at his cock. He was throbbing and leaked precum onto the sheets, in between your spread legs. It didn’t take him long before he grabbed the base of his cock and stroked it a few times, “You wanna be bred?” He asked, his voice almost hoarse as he spoke.

“Mhm,” you cried out, whining like a little sub bitch. You reached out to grab his hand, “Just fuck me already…” You didn’t have to tell him twice. He continued to slowly stroke his cock as he lined it up with your folds, pressing the tip into your cunt just to see your reaction. You were so warm he had to stop himself from cumming right away, but he stayed strong and pushed in. Fuck, a whimper escaped his mouth and he leaned down to kiss you again. The kiss was desperate and messy, just aching to relieve the burning desires swelling in his body. It was electric how he felt about you in that moment, he needed you so bad it hurt. He didn’t just want to fuck you, he wanted to live in your ribcage like a little parasite.

He pulled back, then thrust in again, “F-hah.. Shit.. mm-m fu..fuck,” he threw his head back at the pleasure rising up his cock. He’d never get this kind of sensation from just simply fucking himself. Sure, fucking himself to the thought of you felt good, but this was on a whole other level of pleasure. You were warm like a sauna and he wanted to just thrust in you until you couldn’t walk, until you were full of his cum. So he began, thrusting in you like you were nothing more than a sex object. You gasped and pressed yourself against the mattress, before arching your back and rolling your hips as you did when he reached your pleasurable spot. You both were so sensitive, Satoru more so from the fact he had already cum twice, that he came within seconds of penetrating you. But he didn’t stop. He didn’t stop when you cried out and came for the second time, or if he was feeling too stimulated, he wanted you full. He wanted to watch you bulge from his cum and carry his kids.

“F-fuck… I’m gonna.. Mm- fill you.. Hah.. with my- mm.. Kids,” he groaned, looking down at your perfect form. Satoru buried his head in the crook of your neck and bit down as the pleasure was getting to be too much. It was all-consuming, filling his whole body and all of his senses. He could feel his body jerking and spontaneously moving with every jolt of ecstasy. You were the same, crying out and wrapping your arms around his neck. He was balls deep in your wetness, taking in your noises and the plapping from both of your bodies together in pure bliss. He felt himself spill over again into your pussy, cumming to the point where it was beginning to hurt. But he didn’t want to stop, even though his dick was starting to become numb. It almost tickled at first when he kept thrusting through the sensitivity, but then it started feeling good again. So good he couldn’t help but bite even harder on your neck. You were talking it like the good slut you were, soaking up his cum and begging mindlessly for more.

Satoru gasped and kept thrusting, even though he was beginning to realize you might’ve milked him dry. He let out a whimper and pulled his head back to look at your dazed expression. Your makeup was smeared, mascara pooling at your eyes and lipstick against your cheek. He didn’t care, you were still gorgeous.

So he was surprised when he felt himself cum again and he blurted out, “I ..f- mmshit.. F-.. love… you.. Iloveyouiloveyou.”

His dick was so tender he was beginning to lose feeling in every motion, so his thrusts began to slow to a stop. He pulled himself off of your sweet cunt and plopped down beside you, taking in gasps of air as if he was going to die at any minute. Now he knew why men were addicted to sex. Sex was amazing! Marriage was amazing! How could he have dismissed it so early on without even giving it a try? If this was how sex and marriage truly were, he would’ve done this such a long time ago!

“You… love me?” You murmured, turning your head to look at your husband. Gojo looked back at you with wide eyes full of … well tiredness and confusion. He was so out of it that he didn’t even process he had said it until you pointed it out. A few silent moments passed as he tried to think of what to do. Well shit, now he might not have that amazing explosive sex anymore.

“I love you too… I think. It’s weird, I felt like I did when I first saw you,” you continued, turning on your side to watch him with delicate eyes. You … also loved him? If he wasn’t sore and numb in his dick at the same time he would’ve fucked you again.

Satoru let out a breathless laugh and outstretched one of his arms to rest on your waist, “Yeah, me too.”

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octoberclidan · 4 months

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I Don't Want You to Leave

Request: Can i request Dean or sam Winchester x f!angel reader, where she comes to help him (s3-4 based) and he just gets to attached to her so he purposely gets her to help him, and she ends up staying permanently 💕

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Masterlist

Story:

"Angels don't exist", Dean scoffed at the woman who stood in front of him and his brother. She had just single handedly killed three demons; two with a silver blade and one just by touching his forehead. "So I'm gonna ask you one more time, what the hell are you?" He had his gun pointed at her, as did Sam, but she didn't seem phased by them.

"I already told you, I'm an angel". She glanced between the two brothers. "Usually I would've introduced myself as an angel of the Lord, but I no longer wish to be associated with him".

"So what, you're a... a fallen angel?" Sam asked, frowning at her but keeping his aim steady.

"No, not yet at least", she said as she wiped her blade and tucked it into the inside of her coat. "My brothers and sisters don't know that I'm here, and they won't be happy when they find out, so I suggest we go somewhere more private to talk. I'll meet you at your motel room". She vanished in front of them, leaving the two Winchesters extremely confused.

"What the hell was that?" Dean asked, walking over to the space where she had been standing and waving his hand around in the empty air.

"Did you see how she burned his eyes out with just her touch? And her blade acted just like Ruby's knife", Sam said, lowering his gun. "This is big, Dean".

"It has to be some sort of demon", Dean said. "And it's in our motel room", he shook his head as he began to walk towards the Impala. Sam caught up to him and the two of them got into the car.

"Why are you so convinced that she isn't an angel?" Sam asked as Dean started up the engine.

"Because they don't exist".

"How do you know?"

"How many hunters do you know who've met an angel? Don't you think that if they existed we would know before now?"

"Yeah but Dean.. you made a deal to go to Hell. You literally have two weeks left, so if Hell exists, why not Heaven too? Why do you believe in one and not the other?"

"Demons, Sam!" Dean was getting fed up with him now. Being so close to being dragged to Hell had him on edge too. "We've dealt with demons. We've killed them, we've seen them with our own eyes. We've dealt with Hellhounds, we know Hell exists".

"I'm just saying, maybe have an open mind about it. Maybe she can help, she killed those demons, so maybe she knows a way to undo your deal while keeping me alive too".

"Sam", Dean sighed. "I'm not messing with the deal. If I do something to save myself and it kills you in the process... no. I'm not taking that chance. And neither are you". Dean was firm with his statement. If doing anything to his deal had a chance of undoing it and killing Sam again, he wouldn't be able to live with himself. He wouldn't stop until he could find another way to make the same deal again. "We need to find Lilith, Bela told us that she holds the contract to all deals. She's the only one who we can try to end the deal with".

It was only a short drive back to the motel that the boys were staying in. They both had their guns at the ready as they walked into the room. Their eyes were immediately drawn to the sigils that covered the walls, and the woman that was sitting patiently on the bed. "What's all of this?" Dean asked, keeping his eyes trained on her.

"Warding, against angels. I don't want them listening to us. You can put your guns away, they won't hurt me anyway, and I'm not here to hurt you".

"You'll forgive us for being a bit cautious", Dean smiled sarcastically at her, his gun kept pointed straight at her, though Sam let his drop a bit.

"Who are you? What do you want?" Sam asked from behind Dean.

"My name is [Y/N], and I am here to help you", she said.

"We don't need your help", Dean snapped at her. "I sure as hell haven't prayed to anything".

"Aren't you scheduled to be dragged to Hell in two weeks? Have you found a way to save yourself?" She asked.

"Wait, you can stop that? You can stop the deal?"

She was about to respond to Sam's question, but Dean cut her off. "Bullshit. We've looked into everything. There is no way to end the deal without risking Sam's life, and I'm not doing that".

"There is", she said, matter-of-factly. "It's not very straightforward, but it's possible. Sam will be in no danger", she assured him. At this stage, Sam had tucked his gun back into the waistband of his jeans, but Dean hadn't moved.

"Why? Why help us?"

"Heaven has a plan for you, Dean. You too, Sam", she looked between the two brothers. "I want to put a stop to their plan, and the only way to do that is to stop you from torturing souls in Hell". She stared at Dean as she said this.

"Torturing souls? Sweetheart, I think the whole idea of me being dragged to Hell is that it will be my soul being tortured, not me doing the torturing". He shifted slightly and readjusted his grip on his gun. "What exactly is Heaven's 'plan' for us? Why are they interested in us?" He had to admit, she'd piqued his interest.

She sighed, and stood up, walking over to the window to glance behind the closed curtain. "You're the first seal", she said. When both brothers raised an eyebrow at her, she continued. "Heaven wants a fight between Lucifer and Michael. It would mean almost certain destruction of this world".

"Lucifer? Michael? As in archangels?" Sam asked and she nodded.

"Yes, Lucifer has been trapped in a cage in Hell for a very long time. He will need to be released in order to fight Michael. In order to release him, a number of seals must be broken. There is one that needs to be broken first, and that is where you come in, Dean", she turned to face fully. "The first seal will be broken when a richeous man sheds blood in Hell".

"Well, there's your problem solved. I wouldn't do that". Dean gave her another sarcastic smile but [Y/N] shook her head at him.

"You would. You're strong, Dean, but time works differently down there. You'd hold on for years, decades even, but eventually even you will break. They'll tear you apart every day, just to build you back up again and start over the next day. They'll torture you tirelessly without a break until you crack. They'll offer you an out; no more torture for you if you become the torturer. You will accept it, it would only be a matter of time".

"Okay, okay, well even if that's true, you said there are a number of seals, so we could just not break the second one".

"It doesn't work like that", she sighed. "It doesn't need to be you who breaks the rest of the seals, they just need you to break the first. There are over 600 different seals, and Lilith only needs to break 65 after the first is broken. You couldn't possibly predict which seals she will go after and when, especially not when the angels in charge want her to break them".

"Lilith?" Sam asked. "We've been trying to track her down to undo Dean's deal".

"She won't undo the deal. She needs Dean to go to Hell to break the first seal". She walked over to Dean and gently lifted her hand to rest on top of his gun. She looked him in the eyes as she lowered his hand, and, surprisingly to Sam, he let her. "Let me help you". He studied her eyes for a long moment, looking for deception, or any sign of ill intent, but he saw only genuineness. He sighed, and looked back to Sam, before shaking his head, almost in a last attempt to shake off the new hope she'd given him, before he looked back at her.

"Fine, but I still don't trust you".

***

"Who are you texting?" Sam asked from opposite Dean in a small diner in the middle of nowhere. They were light on work at the moment and had taken a 'lead' that was literally just a newspaper article about three men who'd gone missing in a town that hadn't had a missing person case in over twenty years. There weren't really that many people to go missing though, the town was tiny.

"Hmm?" Dean hummed, still focused on texting while waiting for his food.

"I asked you who you're texting, you look like you're concentrating very hard", Sam chuckled.

"[Y/N]", Dean said back, almost dismissing Sam like he was a pestering child.

"[Y/N], huh?" Sam smirked and Dean glanced up at his teasing tone just in time to see it.

"Yes, she is an angel, she managed to stop the apocalypse, so maybe, just maybe, she can help us when we're at a dead end".

"Mhmm", Sam nodded, pretending to take his brother seriously. After [Y/N] had saved Dean from his contract with Lilith while keeping Sam safe and stopping Lucifer from escaping in the process, Dean had caved in and finally accepted that she was an angel. He couldn't really deny it after she'd shown off her wings either. He'd been finding reasons to call on her for several weeks now, and Sam had a strong feeling that he liked her for more than just her ability to help them out. She was an angel, she couldn't be killed on werewolf or vampire hunts, ghosts couldn't hurt her, curses didn't affect her. Dean didn't have to worry about her, and that was a first for him. He also didn't have to worry about Sam as much, as [Y/N] never showed any hesitation in healing either of them even though they'd never asked her to.

"Hi Dean", her voice slightly startled the two Winchesters, they still weren't used to her just appearing out of thin air. "Sam", she smiled at Sam before sitting down beside him, looking across the table at Dean who was in the middle of a text message. "I thought it would be more efficient to speak in person".

"Uh, yeah, hey". Dean's cheeks blushed a light pink, and Sam was finding it difficult to disguise his chuckle as a cough.

"There's no case here. The three men who went missing left of their own free will".

"Really? Was it connected somehow?" Sam asked, angling himself to face her.

"Yes... the three men are together. They didn't want the judgement of their families and friends, so they left to find a larger city where they could have some anonymity and live in peace".

"Together... like, together together?" Dean asked, raising his eyebrows at her.

"In a relationship together, yes". She confirmed and Dean whistled, leaning back in his seat, no longer on the job.

"Case closed I guess", he shrugged. "What are you up to? Are you busy?" He asked, trying to sound casual as he attempted to lean his arm on the back of the seat, but ended up awkwardly having to put it down again as he realised the back rest was too high up.

"No, I'm not busy. Since ruining the chances of setting Lucifer free, the angels have lost interest their plans and are just doing their own thing. There's a lot of disorganisation at the moment, a lot of angels are wandering around earth for the first time or exploring other worlds. Luckily there are some who still care for Heaven and the souls that reside there, but I have no purpose anymore".

"That's a bit... depressing. Are you okay?" Sam asked and Dean leaned forward, a look of concern on his face.

"Yes", she said, looking between the two of them. "I'm fine".

"Well... if you're not busy, why don't you stick around? We'll be looking for a new case now, you could help us, work with us", Dean suggested, and she took a moment to think about it. He studied her face as she looked away from both of them, weighing her options. She was pretty, anyone could see that, but there was something else to her. He couldn't explain how, but she looked pure, and good, and he couldn't help but be drawn to her. He didn't realise he'd been subconsciously leaning forward to get closer to her until he lost his balance and had to slam his hand down on the table to stop himself from falling over. Everyone in the diner looked towards them at the noise, and Dean's embarrassment was extremely apparent on his face as he cleared his throat and mumbled something to himself.

"I think what Dean is trying to say, is that he'd like you to stick around more", Sam said, earning himself a kick in the shin under the table from Dean.

"Is that true?" She asked him, and he swore he recognised a glimmer of hope in her eyes.

"Yeah... just if you want to I mean".

"I would", she nodded, and the conversation fell silent. After a moment, the boys' food arrived at the table and [Y/N] stood up. "I have a few things to take care of, then later I will meet you at your motel room and we can look for a case". Before giving either of them a chance to respond, she was gone.

Dean smiled to himself and started to dig into his food, only looking up to catch Sam smirking again. "What?" Dean mumbled through his full mouth.

"You'd swear you'd never seen a girl before", Sam laughed. "What was that? You were acting like a fourteen year old on his first date".

"Shut up", Dean shook his head at Sam. "She's not a girl". He watched as Sam raised an eyebrow at him. "I just mean she's not a girl that I'd hook up with, you know, like in a bar or something. She's a literal angel, she's not even human, how exactly am I supposed to act around someone like that?"

"I'm just amused that you've gone from calling her something to someone".

"Yeah, well, you'd be hosting Lucifer and I'd be hosting Michael and we'd be fighting each other to the death if it wasn't for her, so I think she's earned the upgrade".

***

After they'd finished their food, they headed back to their motel room to pack up their things and wait for [Y/N]. Sam decided to head out and get some new supplies, since they didn't know how far they'd be travelling for their next case. He left Dean behind with his laptop, giving him strict instructions that it was only to be used for hunting purposes. It wasn't long after Sam left that [Y/N] showed up in the room beside Dean.

"Hi Dean", she said, causing him to jump in his seat slightly, shutting the laptop down a little too hard and little too quickly.

"You have got to start knocking", he said, turning around to face her.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I'm still getting used to all the various customs", she said, sitting down on the edge of one of the beds. He didn't know if she noticed how often he blushed around her, or if she just assumed that he permanently had pink cheeks and just hadn't commented on it.

"Well, if you hang around with us more, you'll get the hang of things in no time", he smiled at her. "Uh, we don't really have much here to offer you, unless you want to get take out or something? I don't mind driving somewhere to pick up something if you're hungry".

"I don't need to eat".

"Oh, yeah. I forgot, sorry". The room filled with silence as they sat there looking at each other. Dean wasn't used to being lost for words, or not knowing what to say. He wasn't used to being so nervous around someone.

"When Sam said that you'd like for me to stick around more, is that just on cases? If so, I can come back when you find one", [Y/N] said as she stood up from the bed.

"No", Dean immediately stood up from his chair and took two steps towards here so he could grab her arms, afraid that she would disappear again. "Sorry", he said as he realised what he was doing, and let go of her. "God, Sam was right. I promise you I'm not usually this awkward or weird".

"Why are you so nervous?" She asked as she placed a hand on his chest, feeling his heart beating quickly. He covered her hand with his, and he suddenly felt much calmer.

"Because you make me nervous", he said, looking down at her.

"I don't intend to".

"I know. You just.. you're so different to anyone I've ever known. You're able to heal people, you can teleport, you're so strong and beautiful and you rebelled against everything you'd ever known just to save people when so many of us didn't even deserve it".

"You think my vessel is beautiful, you don't know what my true form looks like. You and Sam deserved to be saved, and so many others too".

"No, it's not just your vessel. I think you're beautiful". He curled his fingers around her hand to hold it, and grabbed her other hand to pull it up to his chest too. "It's the effect you have on me, your desire to help those who need it, to heal, to protect, to fight. I think about those who don't deserve to be saved, you think about those who do. That's what makes me nervous, you're almost too perfect to be real, and I don't deserve someone like you in my life. I'm not good enough to have you, but I don't want you to go anywhere, I don't want you to leave".

She didn't know what to say to him, no one had ever spoken to her like that before. She slowly leaned up onto her toes and kissed his cheek, watching as his eyes closed and he breathed out a sigh of relief. When she stood back down, he opened his eyes and looked down at her again. Before he could risk her disappearing in front of him, he leaned down and pressed his lips to hers. It was a gentle kiss, both of them a bit unsure, both of them cautious. He broke the kiss and leaned his forehead against hers. "I don't want you to leave", he repeated.

"I won't. I'll stick around".

The end

Dean Winchester taglist: @123passwort @janineb86 @k-slla @lyarr24 @candy-coated-misery0731 @jackles010378 @hobby27 @pizzagirlxnsfwx @itburnslikehelltobevega @queenie32

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yandere-romanticaa · 1 year

Text

A month has passed since a strange cult took you within its ranks. It wasn't necessarily by choice but it was something you needed to do in order to survive. Your entire village had been destroyed in a sudden onslaught of ferocious demons, massacring all of your friends and family.

You were left with nothing.

For days you had roamed the mountains and with a heavy heart had accepted the fact that you were going to die, be it from starvation, dehydration or some stray demon devouring you from head to toe.

Lord Douma had other things in store for you.

He was a strange one, the man who rescued you. He was oddly easy to amuse and absolutely everything you did was incredibly entertaining to him. One of his favorite past times were when he would simply stare at you as you talk about your life and perform everyday, mundane duties. At first you thought nothing of it - he saved your life, the least you could do was indulge him just a little bit.

Red flags started to show up soon though - the way he would move and carry himself, it simply was not natural. Whenever there was a meal, Douma would not even look at the food or even have a sip of water. You chalked it up to him having his own private meals and decided to think nothing of it.

You had managed to settle within a comfortable routine which just so happened to often cross paths with the great Lord himself. He seemed to greatly enjoy your presence and would have you with him from the moment the sun had risen until wee hours in the morning.

How was he never tired?

Suspicion slowly turned to fear as you noticed that some members of the cult were missing. No one knew what came of them or where they were last seen, as if some foul creature had spirited them away.

You brought up your concerns with Lord Douma but he just called you silly and told you not to worry about it. "Nothing bad will happen to you!" he'd say reassuringly but his words gave you shallow comfort.

Douma, for whatever reason, was also quite fond of physical touch and you were his favorite when it came to that. He was absolutely shameless and would explore your body however he saw fit. Amongst those odd trysts, you noticed that a powerful metallic smell would cling onto him and would never go away no matter how hard you washed his clothing.

No amount of praying could prepare you for the horror you'd encounter on one moonless evening.

You had woken up due to a strange noise and, against your better judgment, decided to investigate. With nothing but a single candle in your hand and a long but thin nightshirt covering your body, you ventures downwards the dark and creepy hallways. It felt as though the shadows themselves were out to get you because you'd flinch at every single sound no matter how miniscule. The closer you got to Lord Douma's chambers the stranger the noises got - giggling, slurping and crunching could be heard as a horrible stench filled the air, a smell so vile that it made you want to throw up your dinner. You'd often ask him what he liked to eat but naturally, Douma would just dodge your question or say something really silly. "It's easier if I eat alone!" he'd say as he caressed your hair. With each step you took the stench became stronger and stronger and Douma's words continued to ring inside your head like bells.

"You see, I'm a bit of a night owl! It's also not smart to come to my chambers without knocking first!~"

You should have listened to him and his thinly disguised warning.

Through the tiniest of cracks you saw Douma on the floor, covered in fresh blood. A wicked grin danced across his lips as he toyed with the severed limbs with the mauled corpse of a young woman, her eyes stricken with fear even in death.

It took you every ounce and willpower to not scream bloody murder.

With the way he was treating the corpse you'd think that Lord Douma was but a child with a precious toy. His light tone and playful gestures sent chills down your spine as you covered your mouth with your hand, a desperate attempt to conceal any potential noises that may escape you. You watched him for a few moments as you let it all sink in, not even realizing just how much your entire being trembled with fear. Just before you could make a break for it you heard Douma speak.

"I know you're there, watching me. I don't know who you are but I can smell you!"

Crap.

Dropping the candle to the floor you could do nothing but freeze as Douma continued to speak, total indifference lacing his voice.

"I would leave, if I were you. I am in a good mood tonight and shall play stupid so I won't turn around to see your face! Now, be a good little disciple and go back to bed!"

Squeaking like a helpless puppy, you ran away with your tail behind your legs, not realizing that Douma knew damn well that it was you. The demon could sense your presence across a giant mountain if need be and your sweet smell would invade his senses every time he would think about you. It was a shame that you saw him in such a state but he really did not want to kill you. He was content with playing dumb and hoped that it would be the same case for you as well.

As long as you kept your lips sealed, everything was going to be alright.

Part 2 here!

#he's so bbg (he would eat me without a second thought)#yandere #yandere x reader #yancore #yanderecore #yandere imagines #yandere x you #yandere aesthetic #yandere demon slayer #demon slayer x y/n #yandere demon slayer imagines #yandere demon slayer x reader #demon slayer douma #yandere douma x reader #douma #yandere douma #douma x reader #demon slayer x reader

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lemonmaid · 11 days

Text

You know what I love chat? Reincarnation.

Imagine being Sukuna's lover in every universe, in every life, every time stamp, but not surviving a single one.

Sukuna remembering every, e v e r y single one. The anguish, the raw feeling he feels every single time watching you die.

Warnings: slowly crippling insanity, yandereish, pregnancy, male pregnancy, omegaverse, mention abortion, gender neutral reader but the first and second are female and male, child birth, sacrificing

First.

It was a typical love story, a farm boy meeting a daughter of a shaman. When Sukuna first started courting, the man of the house, (Name)'s mother, told him that he had bad, very demonic energy and needed to be cleansed. (Name) and Sukuna rolled their eyes and eloped.

Sukuna rushed to his shared home with you. He was in the fields working in the blistering summer heat when a messenger ran towards him, telling him his wife was in labor.

He felt ecstatic. He prayed to the gods that your delivery would be safe.

Appernlty no gods bared him that request.

"Mrs Ryomen!! Relax".

(Name) let out a pained cry, their stomach contracted, tighting to move the babe from their stomach, "I- FUCK! I CANT!".

Midwives held onto (Name)'s hands, easing (Name) onto their knees, "Ma'am- you have to push-".

Sukuna slammed open the door, hearing his wife's crys, "I'm here!!".

(Name) looked at Sukuna with teary eyes, "Suki- OH GODS!".

Sukuna rushed to (Name)'s side, holding her hand, "Breathe my love-".

(Name) let out a scream, the midwives speaking amongst themselves. A small cry was heard, "it's a boy sir".

Sukuna held a proud smile on his face, looking down at his wife to see their reaction.

(Name) looked at Sukuna in a daze and back at their son, "he's beautiful Suki....".

Sukuna looked at (Name) with worried eyes, looking at the midwives, "something- hey- something is wrong!!".

One of the midwives looked under (Name)'s nightgown before going pale. One rushed out of the small hut. Sukuna gave his son to a midwife, before putting his focus on his wife, "hey hey hey, look at me, don't close your eyes".

The doctor didn't show up untill three hours later, but by that time (Name) was gone.

Sukuna looked at his crying son, his heart heavy, his mind weaked.

'I would do anything to bring them back'.

'Anything?' A voice rang out.

Sukuna looked backed at his crying son, then at the marbled statue at the altar.

That day, Sukuna murdered his own blood for a gamble with a hinnagami. It wasn't until his death that he knew what he wished for.

Second.

When Sukuna awoke, or when he first gained consciousness; he was in a different world or what he concluded a different universe.

Alphas, betas and Omegas.

It was... peculiar, different, but when he found you again, he stopped caring. You were a male this time, a beta male. It didn't matter to him. You were his mate, his soul mate, and he wasn't going to lose you this time.

"I want you to take birth control".

You looked at him with a deadpan face, "Okay werido".

"I'm serious".

You sighed. You've only dated or courted Sukuna for a year, and it felt like he knew everything about you, he had his quirks but it didn't make you love him any less.

"Baby." You reached over, grabbing his waist, "I'm a beta.... I can't get pregnant. "

"Sir, I'm surprised to say this, but you're pregnant".

Sukuna felt his heart drop to his chest. You were flabbergasted, "HOW!?" Both of you said in allusion.

"It looks like you're just.... an omega in terms".

Sukuna growled, "in terms of what? He doesn't have a scent nor-".

"I understand that, sir, your mate has.... we just need to do further testing".

After the doctor left the room, Sukuna has his eyes on you. "You need to get an abortion".

Your eyes widen, "excuse me?".

"You need to remove the thing-".

"That thing is our pup-".

"It's going to kill you-".

"You don't know that! People give birth every day, and it there's, like, barely a chance of death! We live in a time of technology! Not like, the stone age!".

Sukuna huffed, "I think....".

"I think you're just scared, baby..." You grabbed his hand, "... it's..... I know you're scared and I am too, but I want this with you... I'm ready. " You smiled softly at Sukuna, your smile relaxing him.

You were five months pregnant when you died. Sukuna could've laughed. It wasn't this pregnancy that killed you. No, it was a freak accident. Who would've thought that a fire happened at your work trapping you inside on your last day before maternity leave.

Three

When Sukuna awoke again, he vowed to just convince you (trap you) to stay at home. This time, he would get a vasectomy when he was of age.

Sukuna searched for you.

He didn't care about this world.

He just wanted to find you.

He found you.

But you were already dead.

In this life, luckily, he had the chance to grow up with you. You both went to the same school, became highschool sweethearts.

War broke out, separating you two.

No matter how much Sukuna fought against it, he was drafted. Sukuna didn't care who he hurted, he just wanted to go back home to you.

Which is why he cut his own foot off. He heard of other men doing the same thing, so why couldn't he?

While waiting in the discharge center he found out that his home town had been bombed.

Sukuna started hating humanity.

He hated this curse.

He hated that no matter what lifetime he was in, he could never have you to himself.

489

This life started out strange. He was born back into the Hiean period. But he couldn't find you. Instead of killing himself to reset the life, he decided to take centuries long frustration on humanity, it was a good run, people called him "King of Curses".

Instead of dying, cruelly, he was punished by being sealed. During that he rest he could only think of you and only you, how beautiful every form, every life you've had, you were still breath taking.

He couldn't stand the fear in your eyes. He came back, and here you are staring at him like he is a monster. Sure, this isn't his body. And yes, you just saw him take over your student's body. But it doesn't matter anyways, he's back.

And no one is going to take you away this time.

#heian era sukuna #sukuna x reader #jjk x reader #male reader #female reader #sukuna ryoumen x reader

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randxmthxughts · 1 year

Text

Unrequited Love - Tsu'tey x Omatikaya!Reader

summary: you had been in love with tsu'tey for as long as you could remember. so when you see his heart break again at the loss of another mate, you offer him comfort, expecting nothing in return

genre/warnings: smut!, oral (m receiving), angst, unrequited love

wc: 2k

a/n: this is my first time writing smut, so i hope i didn't screw it up completely. please let me know if there's anything unrealistic or sounds silly (i am a virgin, idk what the hell i'm doing), i'll be glad to change it. also, please don't forget to leave some feedback, replies, whatever you want. i love reading what you have to say, and it always encourages me to write more ♡

masterlist - part 2

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

You watch in silence, your focus only on him. As things escalate between Tsu'tey and Jake, people around you begin to gasp and murmur, filling the space with noise. All you want to do is to call out his name, get him out of there.

It’s obvious to you that his challenge means nothing. He does it to upkeep his reputation, but if he kills Jake, Neytiri will never choose him again. Tsu’tey draws a knife, bending down over Jake’s unconscious body.

“Neytiri was promised to me,” Tsu’tey grabs him by the hair, bringing his knife closer, “This is a demon in a false body. It should not live.”

Neytiri suddenly lunges at Tsu’tey with all her might. She knocks him off his feet and takes a defensive stance over Jake, baring her teeth and knife. You notice Tsu’tey's posture weaken, as he watches his mate claim Jake as her own in front of the whole clan. He knows it’s too late for him to fight, Neytiri and Jake are now mated for life. Your heart aches at the sight of Tsu’tey's bloodied face and the way he spits on the ground before retreating into the forest, disappearing from the crowd.

Desperately, you rush after him, ignoring the noise and commotion breaking around you. It takes some time for you to finally spot his frame, partially hidden between thick bushes, sitting on a rock with his head hanging low in defeat.

Sylwanin was his first true love. You watched them fall in love while you were still children. Having a crush on somebody who was already claimed was tough on you, but you knew that Sylwanin and Tsu’tey were meant for each other, and you tried very hard to be happy for them. You remember it as clear as a day when they announced their bond, and the way you cheered for them, joining in on the celebration. But in your heart, you couldn't help but wish for the kind of love that Tsu'tey had for Sylwanin. You prayed to Eywa that she would one day grant you such feeling.

Losing Sylwanin in that tragic accident was devastating already, but being arranged to mate with her sister instead must have been an unbearable burden for Tsu’tey. Your heart shattered into thousands of tiny pieces when you first heard the news, and there was nothing you could do to help. Tsu’tey was a great hunter and warrior, there was no one more deserving of being Olo’eyctan than him. And though he bonded with Neytiri over their shared grief, he knew that he could never love her the same way. When Sylwanin died, a part of him had also died with her. And now, witnessing Tsu’tey lose his mate to another man was agonizing.

“Tsu’tey,” you catch his attention, approaching him.

As if caught in a moment of vulnerability, Tsu’tey sits up straight. You grimace at the blood smeared around his beautiful face, eyes glistening with the threat of tears. Noticing your gaze lingering on him, Tsu’tey hurries to wipe his eyes. Future Olo’eyctan or not, he didn’t like that you saw him like this. Quickly, you reach forward and grasp his wrists, preventing him from hiding his face.

“‘M sorry,” you mumble.

“I’m fine,” he huffs, shaking his hands to free them from yours.

You don’t take offense to his harshness. Growing up, Tsu’tey always had a soft spot for you, but that did not apply during the moments of humiliation. You crouch down in front of him, letting his frame loom over you.

“You shouldn’t have followed me, Y/N,” he says, like it was an order you disobeyed.

You purse your lips, uncertain if Tsu’tey truly means it. Despite being only two years older than you, Tsu’tey still treated you like a child sometimes. Even as a kid, he exuded dominance and strength, his presence alone putting everyone intact. So whenever he saw boys bullying you, Tsu’tey was quick to tell them off. He would then nudge your shoulder, coaxing a smile from you, and consider his job done. But what he failed to recognize, after all these years, is that you never saw him the same way he saw you. Your heart ached every time you looked at him, knowing that he could never be yours, and that his own heart belonged to someone else.

“I don’t want to take out my anger on you,” Tsu’tey’s tone is stern, “You better leave, Y/N.”

“You can take it out on me, I don’t mind,” you say softly, as his eyes widen in confusion.

“I’m not kidding,” he warns you with a low growl.

“Please, let me help you,” you plead with him, resting your palms over his thighs, “I can take it, you don’t have to hold back.”

Tsu’tey rarely heard those words. He was always scolded for being short-tempered, acting out of anger. That those were unsuitable qualities for the future Olo’eyctan. Tsu’tey tried to contain it, but often old habits would slip right back in. He shifted under your touch, gazing at your hands, while his mind went to places where it shouldn’t go. He thought that he was probably reading you wrong, still upset over the fight.

You weren’t sure if this was where you wanted things to head, when you followed him. But right at this moment, you felt like there was nothing else you wanted to do for him. Your heart truly desired to see him relax for a moment, even if it was at the expense of your feelings. As you slowly moved your palms higher on his thighs, Tsu’tey drew in a short breath. He watched you silently until your fingers grazed the edges of his loincloth.

“You don’t have to,” Tsu’tey put his hands over yours, in an attempt to stop you, but all you could feel was the heat radiating off his skin, making your heart race.

“I want to,” you insist, “Let me make you feel good.”

“You know I can never truly devote myself to anyone else but Sylwanin,” his voice drops, and you have to perk your ears to hear him.

“I know,” you move your fingers to his sides, reaching the ties of his loincloth, “I don’t expect anything in return.”

“Y/N…” Tsu’tey whispers but you shush him.

You notice the way he tries to resist the growing lust, despite longing for it to be satisfied. His mind tells him to walk away but his body doesn’t comply. Would it be so bad for him to get lost in the moment and just let it go? Let himself forget about all of his worries and pretend that he had nothing weighing down on him?

You hesitate before untying his loincloth, waiting for Tsu’tey to stop you, but he doesn’t. As the fabric slides off his sides, revealing his already hard cock, you’re taken aback slightly. Tsu’tey watches your reaction with a hint of shame; he can’t believe he’s already aroused just by the way you undressed him.

Slowly, you lean in, pressing a soft kiss to his thigh. You hear Tsu’tey’s breath hitch and feel his muscles clench, as you start trailing kisses up his skin. When you reach his balls, you pause. You have never done anything like this before. Sure, you heard girls talk about pleasuring their mates in many ways, but you could only dream about making Tsu’tey happy. It’s scary.

You take a breath before planting wet kisses to his sack, then some more to the base of his member. Instinctively, his penis twitches underneath your lips, and you hear Tsu’tey let out a small moan. Your ears perk up at the sound so pleasant, you wish you could hear it everyday. You’ve never seen this side of Tsu’tey; he was always so stern, so aware of the way he presented himself to others. But here he is now, trembling under your touch, letting his guard down. Feeling braver, you wrap your lips around his sack, sucking in gently. Simultaneously, your fingers find their way around his penis, giving it a light squeeze.

“Tsahey,” he grunts through his teeth.

The sounds he makes are so satisfying, you feel heat rush to your cunt. You try to ignore the growing sensation, as you press your tongue flat against his shaft, and follow along a prominent vein. Tsu’tey’s grabs the back of your neck, bringing your face closer, ordering for more. You had no idea that you were unintentionally teasing him, making him impatient.

Getting his hint, you take the tip of his penis into your mouth, your tongue occasionally grazing the top, as you suck on it. You let the saliva drip out of your mouth and smear it over his shaft with your hand, beginning to draw small motions up and down, your mouth still working.

“Take it all in,” Tsu’tey grunts, “Please.”

Tsu’tey had never sounded as desperate as he did right now. To please him, you lean in, trying to take his whole penis into your mouth. It was your best attempt, given how big he was, and feeling the tip press against the back of your throat. It tickles your skin like an annoying scratch you want to tend to. As you lose the rhythm of your breathing, suddenly feeling overwhelmed, you pull away. Instead, you work your hand up and down his penis, now completely covered in your saliva. You massage his balls with your other hand, and when you hear Tsu’tey draw in another short breath, your walls painfully clench around nothing. You push your thighs together, trying not to get distracted by your own desire.

As you pick up a rhythm with your hand, Tsu’tey’s muscles are clenching and relaxing at every movement. He starts to grow impatient, wishing to feel the inside of your mouth again, and reaches out to direct his penis into your mouth. You take him in.

“Tsahey,” he grunts again, then lets out a soft moan when you swirl your tongue around him.

Tsu’tey suddenly stands up, forcing you to sit up higher on your knees. This new position now allows him to slide his full length into you, tickling your throat and almost making you gag. Tears prick up at the corner of your eyes, as he starts jerking his hips forward in small, quick motions. To hold you in place, Tsu’tey grabs you by your hair, and starts speeding up, thrusting into you more violently. When he tugs at your queue, you let out a small whimper.

Distracted by the sound you just made, Tsu’tey slows down, locking his eyes on yours.

“Will you be alright?” he asks, his breath shaky. You suck on him as a sign of approval, “I just need a moment, I'm almost there."

Tsu’tey grips the back of your neck, and picks up the speed of his thrusts again, hitting the back of your throat with a new force. He is going harder on you, desperately chasing the wave of pleasure. Your mouth felt so warm, so soft around him, cheeks sucking and pressing against his length. The tears in your eyes turn your vision blurry, and you try to blink them away, to watch his face. He looks so beautiful.

Suddenly, you feel his member clench, and Tsu’tey pushes into you a few more times. His movements become sloppier, and when a loud groan escapes from his lips, you feel warm bitter liquid filling out your mouth.

“Mawey,” he whispers, his lids heavy, as he pulls out.

He presses his fingers against your chin, lifting your head just enough to encourage you to swallow. You gulp down, maintaining eye contact, and Tsu’tey hums with a smile, satisfied. Your cunt clenches painfully, pleading for attention, and you squeeze your thighs again, trying to calm yourself down.

Tsu’tey notices it immediately, eyes now lingering on your loincloth. You look away, embarrassed to get caught by him, and wipe your mouth.

“Thank you, Y/N,” he says, still standing bare in front of you.

It’s awkward, you don’t know how to behave now. You stand up, still not meeting his eyes.

“Feel a little better now?” you ask softly.

“Much better,” Tsu’tey places his fingers under your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes, “Do you want me to help you with that?”

Your cunt clenches again, when his gaze trails down your body. You feel heat rush to your face at the mere thought of Tsu'tey pleasuring you. But you’re too flustered, you’re not sure you can endure it.

“No, this is not about me,” you shake your head, “I wanted to make you feel better because you didn’t deserve what happened.”

“I must be a fool,” Tsu’tey admits with a guilty sigh, “I never thought that you... that there was something.”

“I know you hadn’t,” you dismiss the way his eyes burn into yours.

“You deserve someone better. Who is not as broken as me,” his hand cups your cheek to offer you comfort.

“Please don’t,” you pull away, interrupting him before he can pity you, “I know you don’t feel the same, Tsu’tey, it’s alright.”

You force a small smile, blinking away the tears in your eyes. The moment between you is fleeting, but it weighs heavy on your heart. You know that he can never love you.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

part 2

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reticent-writer · 5 months

Note

idea: uzui wife! reader, during the entertainment arc, is busy being disguised as a courtesan @ daki's home. she's mindin' her own business and suddenly, she gets called in for a customer. She gets a bad feeling about them, (It koku or Muzan (-whichever you wanna do more-) in disguise) but since she doesn't wanna blow her cover, she obliges. this demon is impressed by their skills (Koto, flute, singing & dancing etc) and kidnaps reader

So so so sorry for the late request

I choose muzan

demon slayer masterlist

✿✼:*ﾟ:.｡..｡.:*･ﾟﾟ･**･ﾟﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　

You sat in your room in the red light district. You had been here for a long time, longer than your wives, and with that extra time, you made a name for yourself as an Oiran.

Two gentle knocks broke you from concentration as you applied makeup.

"Lady Y/n you have a man requested you. Only you."

"Thank you for informing me." You replied as you put on your traditional multi-layered kimono. You tied your hair and put on kanzashi. Looking into the mirror at you table you sighed.

"I hope this mission ends soon." You muttered as you went to see your client.

------

He was seated in the corner of the room. In a suit with a white hat covering his eyes. His demeanor was cold and calculating, You could tell he wasn't ordinary and as you got closer the notion was he wasn't human was more apparent.

"The gentleman asked for my presence. Were none of my girls to the gentleman's liking." You smiled gently but were secretly wanting to get away from this demon.

"Your girls are beautiful but I came to see you. Your beauty entices me."

"The Gentleman has caught my eye, pray tell what do you wish from me."

"Everything." He raises his head to meet your eyes. Your heart skipped a beat to be met with striking red eyes. For a moment you saw him for the demon that he was.

You stood up and lead the man to your room.

"May I know the gentleman name?"

There was a moment before he responded.

"Kibutsuji."

'Muzan kibutsuji?'

You were lucky you were facing away from him or else he would've seen your panicked face. You quickly composed yourself.

"Well Mr. Kibutsuji please make yourself comfortable." You had made it to your room.

------

You had indeed done everything for him.

Teashows

Games

Recited poetry

played many instruments

danced

Kibutsuji only smiled and asked for more.

"Your skills are undoubtedly impressive, lady Y/n. You have done everything I asked without breaking a sweat and even had a smile on your face. You are truly amazing."

You chuckled and sat in front of him, "Compliments are not necessary, Mr. Kibutsuji. I am here to serve your needs."

"It's a shame that you're not a real Oiran." He said while grabbing your face rather harshly. Forcing you to look into his eyes.

"What do you mean sir-"

"I've been listening to your heartbeat this whole time. From the moment I said my name your heartbeats have been irregular. You're scared of me, you know me."

"Kibutsuji..." You hissed his name and tried to get out of his grasp.

"You lucky I like you." He said before he knocked you out.

He brought you back to the Infinity Castle.

------

Later that week the news of the missing Oiran, Y/n was all over the red-light district. Once the news reached Tengen (along with the lack of messages from Suma, Hina, and Makio) He decided it was time to step in.

✿✼:*ﾟ:.｡..｡.:*･ﾟﾟ･**･ﾟﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　

#female reader #demon slayer x reader #kny x reader #tengen x wives x reader #tengen x reader #reticent writes #reticent writer #muzan x reader

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smolvenger · 3 months

Text

The Child Called Sharpe (Thomas Sharpe x fem! Reader Blurb)

Summary: You and Thomas Sharpe welcome your first baby and his second, as Thomas himself faces his own demons regarding his past.

Word Count: 1K (er...blurb or short oneshot, whatever)

Warnings: Mentions of Pregnancy and childbirth, but nothing graphic. In this version, though I try to have a more nuanced take on Lucille, In this fic I choose to portray the Lucille/Thomas relationship as nonconsensual, pedophilic, and abusive so if you don't like that don't read this, so mentions of sexual abuse, death, illness, blood with some of the canon events of Crimson Peak. But it becomes a lot of tooth-rotting fluff.

A/N: I can't please everyone with Crimson Peak on the is Lucille good or bad vrs. is Thomas good or bad discourse, so why bother trying anymore. I just wanna write my stuff. From @holdmytesseract's request!

A03//My Ko-Fi//My Etsy Shop//Masterlist//Wattpad

Taglist: @asgards-princess-of-mischief @jennyggggrrr @five-miles-over @fictive-sl0th @ladycamillewrites @villainousshakespeare @holdmytesseract @eleniblue @twhxhck @lokisgoodgirl @lovelysizzlingbluebird @raqnarokr @holymultiplefandomsbatman @michelleleewise @wolfsmom1 @cheekyscamp @mochie85 @fandxmslxt69 @skittslackoffilter @mischief2sarawr

Love for him meant creation. It brought out Thomas’s gift of invention tenfold- for love itself was creation. For the first time in his life, an act of love brought out the child’s creation. So it was natural for Thomas to spend hours inventing more for this little child on their way.

That is, his second child. For he had a child, once, and lost that child, once.

Yes, it was a child conceived from control rather than consent…but it was still a child in need of care. A hungry baby- a human life crying for milk, and burning with fever. A child “born wrong.” A child Enola swore to fight to keep alive.

And a child that despite everything died anyway. As did Enola.

Despite Lucille’s cruelty, he did pity her grief for that child- For it was his grief as well.

Lucille caught ill and died not long after. He at least made sure she died comfortably. Warm beneath blankets on a soft bed. Assured her she was loved and kissed her cheek as she took her last breath.

It was complicated, his feelings about his late sister. He never could decide one thing about her. For everything was true- there was both in her. Lucille, both cruel and misunderstood, powerful and pitiful, villain and victim.

Though he never once forced himself on anyone or took advantage of a child as she did to him…

And yet…

He was still guilty of scheming, of blood, of darkness as she was. Of the invention that he wanted to be funded, that he bought at the price of three women’s lives…

But… assaulting him when he was little? Using his innocence until when he was grown he knew no other but her? You would tell him that even if the murders were understandable, she did cross a line in that regard.

He still didn’t know if the woman who at once was his partner, his equal, his sister as well as his jailer, his predator, his molester was deserving of it.

Or not.

Or both.

Yet, all of that darkness and blood was now in the past. Here you were his current wife. A wife who would never take advantage of him. A wife who listened and respected when he said “no.” A wife who wouldn’t push him. Wouldn’t manipulate him. Wouldn’t control him. A wife who forgave him and saw he was now trying to do right with his life, and his choices and would be there to support him.

Your pregnancy was poignant. A reminder that he had a new life now- and a life that was about to expand as your stomach did each month. A new life was about to come forth literally and figuratively for him.

In the corner of his workshop in a special box were toys he made once. Toys were made for the first child who died.

He never prayed, but he did now to whoever listened. For once, those toys would know being loved, being played, and for a baby’s laughter and delight and adoration. They wouldn’t rust from age, but with use. To be worn not with dust, but with love.

He brought out the box one morning and set it in the nursery of his new house. A simpler house compared to Allerdale Hall’s Majesty. Smaller and brighter, made of cherrywood and over earth rather than clay. But cheerful, the warmth bursting in every room.

The toys were cleaned and set ready in that nursery corner. You squeezed his hand after he did so.

When making sure you were comfortable, or when you slept or napped, away he would be in his workshop. He had a special toy shop now next to the house. So in his downtime, he would be found creating little toys that a child of any sex would love. A little teddy bear that twirled on top of a drum. A little cat that lifted to lick its little paw next to a puppy that wagged its tail.

But…what else would a baby need!? His mind was reeling. It had been too long…

Of course! A place to sleep! You had insisted the old wooden rocker would work…but he still had that itching, the gears in his mind whirring faster than any clay mine.

He took a few weeks to study the designs and then set right to work. He stayed up late, rolling up his sleeves. Working on one where if you pressed a small pedal, it would rock gently, oh so gently, as to not stir a baby to more wailing, but only to sleep.

So when he discovered that Lady Sharpe’s water broke, he insisted on staying by you.

“Thomas! But…husbands don’t..don’t usually stay!” you cried. You clutched his hand as he led you to the bed.

Lucille would urge him to leave when it was time to put a cleaver into one of the wives.

For once, he would look at the blood and the bodily innards spilling from his wife and not turn away.

He shook his head, though his hand was still in yours.

“No- My dear, all of my life, I closed my eyes and ran away. I didn’t look when things happened. Not this time- after I get the midwife, I am staying with you. I will not run away for once. I’m going to stay with my wife and keep my eyes open, no matter what I see. I love you- and for once, I am not leaving.” I will not leave you alone to deal with it now.

You grabbed him and kissed his cheek. Then he ran and fetched the midwife. He held to his word and stayed.

Labor is always long. Labor is always primal. But he waited there. Squeezing your hand, cooling your head for every painful cry and push.

Then, after the long hours, though he was a man used to blood he turned pale… Then at last there was a cry.

The midwives smiled, bringing out a little baby in their blaket. Declaring, “It’s a girl!”

You let out a smile and then a laugh of relief. Thomas kissed your hand, then looked at her. His blue eyes brimmed with tears, but for once in his life they were happy ones.

The little girl was brought out in her blanket, needing her mother’s touch- being so new to this cold world and wanting the soft embrace of knowing she was loved now that she was here.

“Look at her…look at her- our baby! Our daughter! Oh!” you cried, a mess of crying, swear, and relief—the pain of the last several hours was forgotten for the tiny baby.

“I never could imagine it,” he agreed, he pecked her tiny forehead.

Once she had settled down, you handed her over to Thomas. The warm, living bundle in his arms. Yes, her cry was loud and bright…but it only signaled that she was alive.. He had never known such joy without confinement, without limits.

The midwives and nurses were paid and thanked. They left, but though it was a long day his Daedelian mind was eager to share his gift.

As you sat in the bed after a while, Thomas got up.

“I have a gift now. For her,” he announced.

Setting you in the wheelchair for rest, he led you to the nursery. The little girl in your arms. Inside the little pastel room there was something in the middle that was tall beneath a blanket.

Thomas walked forward and slipped the blanket off. You let out a gasp.

Beneath was the cradle Thomas made. It was stunningly beautiful- a little pedal that when he stepped on it, would make it rock. Over the bed was a music box on the side that trinkled a lullabye. Stars and a crescent moon dangled were placed to spin over the babies head where she would be placed.

You gasped, seeing how ornate it was. Every bit made with love. As you got up and placed her inside, she opened her little eyes and cooed. You made a little gasp as she took in the sight- her parents and her special gift. Music, rocking, and the stars and moon to dance above her.

To think, after all he had seen, experienced, and done…that he would come to know this moment. Here it was…and he didn’t feel worthy of it.

What when she was older? His own father was a monster. And for a while, fatherhood was linked to such things…

“I only hope I shall be a good father for that little girl…” Thomas wondered..

“You already are,” you assured him. You wrapped an arm around him and kissed him on the cheek.

That night, you were set to sleep after the exhaustion of delivery and elation of the baby. Thomas offered to be there in the nursery. For she was crying through that night, as any baby. Not that she was hungry, as he found out, she just needed warmth.

He got her out of the lovely cradle and went to the rocking chair. He wanted to hold her, feel her close. Her warmth and beating heart and life.

His most precious creation of all…and the one that would survive. He knew she would.

“I promise you, my little love…” Thomas told the baby. “You will not know of attics. Of cold and punishments. Of plotting and murders. Of blood and cruelty…”

He kissed the top of her head.

“No- you will be Protected. Wanted…and loved.”

He would do everything so that his daughter would never have to suffer as he did.

#thomas sharpe x reader #thomas sharpe x female reader #crimson peak fanfic #crimson peak fanfiction #sir thomas sharpe #sir thomas sharpe x reader #sir thomas sharpe x y/n #sir thomas sharpe x fem! y/n #tom hiddleston characters #angst with a happy ending #crimson peak #crimson peak fanfics #fanfiction #tom hiddleston

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little-diable · 2 months

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Sorry you're not feeling well! How about something like Priest Dean/Reader, and "Father" very quickly turns into Daddy. He's probably under cover for another one of those reaper/healer deals, and the reader is getting scammed.

Hi lovie, thank you for this and for inspiring this drabble! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Pure pwp, bj in a confessional

Warnings: 18+, smut, oral (m), face fuck, daddy kink

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader (700 words)

She felt her heart racing, spurred on by excitement, by the feeling of danger. With her eyes focused on the handsome man towering over her, (y/n) waited for his next command. Father Winchester wore a grin so devilish, she feared she was already stuck in hell, unable to escape the devil’s grasp.

“Beg for it, sweetheart.” A cross dangled from his neck, like a pendulum it swung over her, deciding her fate. She had prayed that she’d end up in this very position, on her knees for the man she so desperately wanted to touch. (Y/n) wouldn’t have asked the Holy Father for any help if it weren’t for that small nagging feeling, telling her that the man she was interested in was only putting on a facade, not a real priest.

“Let me taste you, please, I want to make you feel good, father.” (Y/n) whispered her words, staring up at him to watch his every expression change. The groan rumbling through the priest left her grinning in success, parting her lips for his darkening eyes, exposing her eager tongue to him.

“You know that’s not how to address me, right?” He fumbled with his trousers to free his hardening cock as he swallowed in excitement, about to fuck her mouth.

“Please, daddy.” Raspy chuckles left the man as he forced his cock into her mouth. Both moaned at the sudden intrusion, eyes rolling into the back of their heads as if a demon was now feasting from their souls. Dean didn’t hold back, didn’t give her much time to adjust, he was eager to fuck her face, to make her gag on his cock as if it was the last thing she’d do before leaving this place behind.

The confessional gave them enough privacy, and yet it began to close in on them with every further sound leaving them. It felt as if God and the Devil were watching the two, making bets on their bodies and souls to win them for their own greedy longings.

“Fuck, I knew that mouth of yours would be my end.” His groaned words left her humming, allowing the sound to vibrate on his skin to draw another moan from him. His darkening green eyes stared down at her with something dangerous laced in his gaze, making her shudder in excitement.

For a second she pulled away, pumping his cock with her hand as she caught her breath. (Y/n) smiled at him as her eyes wandered over his pleasure-drunken features, proud of herself for making him feel like that.

“Fuck my face harder, please, daddy. Use me.” (Y/n) whispered the words, gasping in surprise as his hand found her hair to hold her in place. Within seconds he had pushed back into her mouth, set on a fast pace to fuck her mouth like she had asked him to. She gagged around him with tears running down her cheeks and spit dripping from her chin, making a mess on the holy ground.

He twitched in her mouth, was close to filling her cheeks with his cum, and yet his pace didn’t falter, keeping her as close as possible. Her glassy eyes watched his every move, not wanting to miss a single second as he chased his orgasm.

And with a deep groan, he came, head rolling back, hand tightening its grip on her hair. She greedily swallowed every drop as he pulled away, watching her with adoration swimming in his pupils.

“Let me give you a small advice, father, the next time you want to deceive people with that priest act, don’t fuck their mouths like that, no priest would be this good.”

#Dean Winchester smut #Dean Winchester imagine #Dean Winchester x reader #priest fic

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storywriter007 · 8 months

Text

You Promised - Percy Jackson x Fem!Reader

summary: in which y/n and percy realize they will never be the friends they used to be as not even time can fix these wounds

warnings: betrayal, sadness, cursing, anger

genre: angst

word count: 1k

.........................................................

y/n watched as the argo ll struggled to get the athena parthenos on deck. she tried desperately to help, but had to stop when she saw annabeth slip into what could be tartarus. y/n jumped down carefully, and clung onto the very edge of the wall.

“don’t let go! i’m going to get you out of there!” she yelled to annabeth and percy, who were holding on for dear life.

although annabeth and y/n had never been great friends, they were on the same team and they were fighting for the same cause. what kind of hero would she be if she let her own teammate fall into hell?

y/n reached a hand out to percy, telling him to hoist himself up to her and then they could pull annabeth out. suddenly, the large statue hit the wall, causing an earthquake, and y/n slipped.

“ah!” she said, dragging her sword into the wall.

she was to annabeth’s right, but below her. both hands on her sword for her life. she pulled herself back and swung, and kicked annabeth upwards. percy was able to pull her up and jason lifted annabeth up, back onto the argo ll. the force was killing y/n. percy then pulled himself up, while clinging to the small side of the wall.

“percy! please, help!” y/n cried, trying to get back up, but she couldn’t, she needed another hand.

“i promise nothing will happen to you y/n!” percy yelled back.

another piece of the rock percy was standing on fell off. he stood on a thin narrow piece of rock. the terror y/n felt for both herself and percy was unmatched. they were friends, and you’re supposed to help a friend, right?

“percy, get up here!” annabeth called frantically.

“what about y/n?” percy yelled back.

at this point, y/n was holding back tears. annabeth wouldn’t leave her here, she wouldn’t. despite their differences, she was a good woman, and she wouldn’t do this to her teammate. at least, that’s why y/n prayed.

“percy please!” annabeth screamed, desperation filling her voice, and tears coming to her eyes. “i can’t lose you again!”

percy looked down at y/n, who’s arms were sore. she gave him a look, don’t do this to me, but he did it. percy took annabeth’s hand and got onto the argo ll. pain ran across y/n’s already sore body, as tears filled her eyes. she saw percy’s sea green eyes looking down at her.

“hold on y/n!” leo yelled. “we’re going to save you!”

“you promised.” she whispered, before her sword gave out.

y/n felt herself fall, fall deep into the pits of hell.

what y/n saw in tartarus was something no average demigod could withstand, and she did it alone. she fought for her life every hour while the betrayal sank in every minute. torturing memories replayed in her head, and she was forced to relive them.

just when y/n thought she couldn’t be more messed up, she ended up on an entirely different level of insane.

………………………………………………………..

when she saw the seven again, relief filled her veins as she ran towards leo with a warm embrace. the two had grown close, often working on machines together and cracking corny jokes. she hugged hazel as tightly as she could. hazel was like y/n’s younger sister, and y/n so desperately wanted to protect her innocence, so that she would not end up like herself, corrupted and ruined. she never knew she would miss frank, but she did.

jason and piper were greeted with short side-hugs, and a half-smile. but the rage that filled y/n’s veins when she saw percy and annabeth was demonic. just when it couldn’t get it worse, she got stabbed in the back. she walked straight past the two, not even acknowledging their presence, and gave nico a warm hug, which he reciprocated.

“i thought you were dead.” leo said, smiling.

“you’re lucky, i would’ve made my ghost haunt you for years to come.” she joked back.

………………………………………………………..

the seven, y/n, nico, will, and reyna were all discussing the prophecy and the attacks, and what was to come. when they had come up with somewhat of a plan, percy asked to talk to y/n, alone.

y/n would’ve done anything but talk to him, but she politely nodded, following him into a small room.

“i’m glad you’re back.” percy started.

“really? because it seemed you were keen on my death.” she spat back.

pain and regret filled his eyes.

“not a day goes by without me regretting my decision.” he said.

“that’s not my problem.” she said, angrily.

“i’m sorry y/n. i’m so so sorry.” he said, sincerity flooding his eyes.

“i didn’t have to dive in, but i did, to save annabeth, because even though we have our differences, we’re fighting for the same cause. i saved you perseus.” y/n said, the thoughts her mind had piled up finally releasing. “all for you two to stab me in the fucking back. the back that took all sorts of slashes for you.”

“i know-”

“y’know what i know? i know that if i were annabeth hanging, about to fall into literal hell, you would’ve gone in with me. i get that, that’s boyfriend duties. but we were friends. you were supposed to pull me out of tartarus, not push me in.” she continued.

the silence was loud because percy knew y/n was right.

“you promised percy. You fucking promised.” she finished.

it became clear to percy that day that they would never be like the friends they used to be. she would never forget, and he couldn’t blame her. from that day onwards, y/n never called percy, ‘percy’, again, it was always ‘perseus’, or she rarely acknowledged him. they never hung out in the same room unless either hazel, frank, or leo, were there. she quit calling him a friend. time could heal everything, but not this betrayal, not this wound. whatever trust she had in percy deteriorated to nothing. why trust a man who couldn’t keep his promise?

#percy jackson #percy jackson angst #annabeth #annabeth chase #leo valdez #nico di angelo #jason grace #percy jackson x reader #hoo x reader #heroes of olympus x reader #heroes of olympus #angst #percabeth

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phoward89 · 2 months

Text

Banner by me. Dividers by @saradika

Summary: Coriolanus doesn't do feelings, but he finds himself comforting you during a breakdown. A breakdown that you had because you were voted to be the female tribute for District 12 during the First Quarter Quell.

Warnings: Coriolanus Snow is his own warning! Possessive!Coriolanus, Obsessive!Coriolanus, DelusionalCoriolanus, Dark!Coriolanus, Soft Dark!Coriolanus?, Head Gamemaker!Coriolanus,mentions of blood, cussing, um that's pretty much it

Story Masterlist

Chapter 6:

After sharing a deep moment with Coriolanus over poisons, you helped him out of his sitting chair and towards the direction of his room- your shared room. He gruffly protested, saying that he didn't need help.

But you insisted on helping him. His large frame felt frail as he leaned on your side, his arm draped over your shoulder as he let out painful, bloody coughs.

Looking up at him, you sighed. “I don't want to risk you falling out before reaching our room, Coryo. Just let me help you.” His icy eyes bite into you, so much conflict in them. You felt heavy under his stare, as if a ton weight was being pressed down on you. “You help me; I help you.” You told him, breaking the heaviness in the air. “You said I belong to you and that you’ll protect me, won't let anything hurt me again. Well, it works both ways, Coryo. You belong to me too; I have to take care of you too.”

Your words touched him, made any fight he had against your help disappear.

Coriolanus wasn't used to having a woman dote on him with gentle care. No, he hasn't had that in years.

Not since he returned to the Capitol from his time serving in the peacekeepers in 12. Tigris grew cold to him upon his return; never showed him tenderness again.

Locked up right in the back of his mind were the cherished memories of his mother cuddling him and singing him loving lullabies. Coriolanus lost her too soon when she died during childbirth with his baby sister.

That loss, although he acts like he's gotten past it, haunts a part of his soul. A part that he's forgotten long ago.

But with your tenderness and care towards him. Worrying about his well-being. Well, it made him realize that he’s touch starved and needs a woman's softness to comfort him, to soothe his demons.

“Well, Y/N, it looks like we'll just have to take care of each other then since, as you pointed out, we belong to each other.”

Are you ready to take care of a man? An older man with needs, with a sexual appetite? A man who has no moral compass? Who’ll drag you down to hell with him?

Ready or not, it's happening.

You're taking care of Coriolanus Snow; you're his til the day you die now.

Your soft words and concern filled actions sealed your fate.

“Come on, let's get you settled in bed.” You told your man as you guided him down the hallway. Secretly praying that Coryo wouldn't collapse before you could get him into bed. Because if he fell on the floor, well…he'd be staying there because you couldn't pick him up.

“You’ll be joining me, darling.” Coryo stated, not asked, as the door to your shared room got closer.

“Yea.” You nodded. “But between your bloody coughing and my nightmares, I don't think we'll get much sleep.”

“Then, my darling rose, we'll just rest, side by side, until we can't fight off our sleep any longer.” He said, his timbre deep, but smooth, as you opened the bedroom door and helped him steadily walk into it.

Sleep didn't come easy to you or Coriolanus.

His body’s convulsing with painful, bloody coughing fits while you refuse to sleep, your stubborn fear ruling over you.

You're too afraid of what you'll see once you close your eyes. You didn't want to relive your time in the arena; that seemed to happen every time you tried to sleep.

So, the only solution was to keep your eyes wide open as long as you could.

Since Coriolanus was coughing badly, spitting up blood and struggling to breath, he was laying by the edge of the bed with a small trash can by his side. You placed it there, after helping him strip to his boxers and settling him in bed, so he could use it to spit up blood in. You figured it'd be easier than him soaking thru hankies or struggling to make it to the bathroom to hack up blood.

This meant that you weren't sleeping next to him, like you did last night.

No.

Instead, you were on your side, looking out the large window while a considerable amount of space was between you and Coryo. You didn't want to bother him while he was coughing, plus you didn't want to be so close to him. You wanted, no needed, some breathing room.

After all, you’re still reeling from the games whether you want to admit it or not.

As you listened to him cough, shifting in bed to grab the small waste basket to spit up blood in, your mind drifted off to the day that the twist of this year's games was announced.

A cold, harsh winter day in January...

The Hunger Games are being held in a few short months and it’s your last year eligible for the drawing since you’re 18. You've been lucky that your name has never been called during these last few years. Your brother claims that the Gods (he found an old book series in the ratchety shack of the district 12 library and got into the mythological religion and lore in them) have something big planned for your life. Unlike Rein, you weren't a big believer in mystics, fate, or the Gods’ plans, but you did feel like you were meant for more than life in the depressed, cold, muddy coal district.

Your teachers at the high school felt that you were smart enough to qualify for training as a teacher or an internship at the apothecary once you graduated in a few months. You talked over your options with Rein and his girlfriend, Ashlie, only to decide that you'd like to intern at the apothecary.

They even encouraged you to approach the Ashberry Apothecary and ask for an after school job. They said that since you were the smartest girl in school that the Ashberrys would be foolish not to consider giving you a job cleaning up the shop, let alone the internship come early summer.

So, you listened to your family and approached the Ashberrys about an after school job cleaning their shop and what not. And, to your joy, they hired you.

Well, Mr. Juris Ashberry hired you. His wife, Belladonna, didn't want you in her shop because she didn't want you around her son, Valerian ‘Val’. She thought that you might try to wiggle your way into his heart (and bed) to get out of the Seam and into the Merchant Sector.

Little did Mrs. Ashberry know, you could care less about her son. Val wasn't your type. He just didn't appeal to you.

He just seemed…you dunno…nice, but snotty. Like, he'd talk to you in the apothecary, but out on the streets in public he wouldn't be caught dead talking to you.

Yea…not your type…

You were sweeping up the floor in the apothecary while Val was leaning behind the counter, bored. Mr. and Mrs. Ashberry were out and about checking on patients in town, leaving just you and their son to watch the shop.

“Your shadow's coming up the bend.” Val warned, pointing to the shop window.

You looked up, only to see Corbin Everdeen, in that god awful sienna sweater his Auntie Maude Ivory knitted him, making a beeline to the shop. His bright, baby blues were locked onto the shop. It seemed like that was the only thing on his mind.

You internally groaned, not wanting to deal with your neighbor. You let him wear you down yesterday about listening to a new song he was writing.

It was called My Mother Told Me and was, basically, about acquiring a boat and sailing away to a distant land. You liked the guitar melody, but not the lyrics since it was literally the same few phrases repeated over and over again.

He didn't take your criticism well; chucked his guitar at your cat and stormed back to his house at the end of the street.

His Auntie Maude Ivory came over minutes later apologizing and asking for his guitar back.

Rein gave her the guitar back, but told the widow that her nephew wasn't welcomed back into your house. That he didn't appreciate her nephew trying to murder his sister's cat by throwing a guitar at it.

“He's not my shadow, Val. He's my neighbor.” You sighed, dreading the moment that Corbin reached the shop.

“Lock up the shop when your done sweeping up. I'm heading to the square for the mandatory group viewing of the games announcement being held in a few minutes.” Val told you before pushing himself up and away from the counter.

Oh, yea, that was today. You totally forgot that all of Panem had a scheduled mandatory viewing of an important message from President Ravenstill about the games today.

“Okay.” You simply nodded, sweeping the floor as the young man with cornsilk hair went over to the door.

You heard the bell ring, indicating that he left. You saw him walk away from the shop, only to cross paths with Corbin. They stopped for a minute, only to exchange a few polite words, before going on their own ways.

You were almost done sweeping whenever the doorbell chimed. “You almost done? I thought we could walk to the square to watch the announcement together.” Corbin asked, standing in the doorway.

Why he didn't walk further into the room, you didn't know. You thought it was weird how he's just standing in the doorway, staring at you as if he's trying to imagine what you look like underneath your dress.

God, Corbin's only 14 ½, he wouldn't be thinking dirty thoughts about you, would he?

No.

No, he's just your neighbor that has a hard time making friends since he's always daydreaming and making up songs. He doesn't mean anything by the way he's looking at you.

Well, your brother begs to differ. Rein thinks that Corbin likes you a little too much. Would prefer you not to spend too much time around him. Especially after last night's incident with the guitar and the cat.

“I was just about to lock up.” You told your neighbor, who was standing with his shoulders slumped; hands shoved in his pockets as he stared at you. His stare made you feel uneasy.

“But my my brother doesn't want you hanging around, so I better just walk to the square by myself.” You told him, hoping it'd make him leave, before sweeping your dirt pile into a dustpan and dumping the contents into a trashcan.

“Rein needs to calm down.” Corbin huffed as you put the broom and dustpan away in a small closet. “I didn't mean to scare your cat, Junebug. I just got upset that you hated my song and my guitar slipped. Hell, I wasn't even aiming it at the stupid cat.” He told you, running a hand through his dark curls, while you took your coat out of the closet and put it on.

You didn't want to walk to the main square with him, but it didn't look like you had any other choice.

“Don't call my cat stupid, Corbin Evergreen.” You ordered the boy, slamming the closet shut and crossing the room.

“Don't call me Evergreen, Y/N. You know I've been going by Everdeen ever since I was 11 and first met ‘cha.” Corbin told you before storming out of the shop.

His name was really Corbin Evergreen but when you first met him, he had a tiny lisp and you misheard his word as Everdeen instead of Evergreen. For some reason he decided to stick with Everdeen. He refused to answer to his former name of Corbin Evergreen, which was something that saddened his Aunt Maude Ivory.

You shook your head, not feeling up to dealing with Corbin Everdeen and his odd mannerisms. Sighing, you opened the door, set the lock on the doorknob, and walked out into the biting, cold late winter afternoon. Wrapping your arms around your middle, in a vain attempt to provide your body with more warmth, you sigh, “Let's get to the square.”

“Think maybe the big announcement is the games are being canceled?” The lanky boy next to you asked after a couple of minutes walking in silence.

“No.” You shook your head. Cancel the games. Ha, hell would freeze over first.

“They should cancel them.” Corbin told you, his tone full of disdain. You knew you were in for it. That he'd be going on a rant, like he always did when the games or when the tribute tour neared. “They're barbaric and the Capitol pigs watching and betting on the kids killing each other for shits and giggles each year should be strung up.”

Oh no, here he goes…

“And the worst of them all’s the head gamemaker, Snowball himself. God, that man needs to be taken outback and shot for the shit he lets go on in the arena. The fact he's strutting around in his luxury suits while the rest of us wear rags; sending our young to the slaughter for him to afford to buy those damn suits is fucking sick.” Corbin ranted as you got closer to the main square, where everyone in the District would be.

“Somebody should toss Snowball’s kids into the arena; see how he feels watching his babies fight for their lives while people bet on them like gamecocks in a fighting pit.”

“He doesn't have any kids, Corbin.”

The tall boy with the dark curls gave you a look and asked, “How'd you know that?”

“All the magazine articles only mention his wife. Same with any tv interviews.” You pointed out.

“Seems like the universe helped us dodge a bullet there. Bet his kid would be as cruel and corrupt as him.”

Little did you know, the universe didn't help you dodge that bullet. In fact, that bullet was dangerously close to piercing your skin…

You didn't know the head gamemaker, so you felt awkward listening to your neighbor bad mouth him. Rein and Ashlie, who joined your family about 3 years after your mother left, raised you with the golden rule. They also told you not to judge others until you walked a mile in their shoes. Despite enduring hardships to raise you, they taught you kindness. They also taught you the strength of perseverance.

Tired of the lanky, dark haired boy’s rant, you gave him the advice of, “You shouldn't talk about him like that. You don't know him; it's not nice to prejudge people.”

Corbin’s dark brows knitted together over his crystal blue eyes. He looked at you with disappointment and annoyance painted all over his face. “Junebug, don't give that man the benefit of a doubt. He designs the arenas that kids fight to the death in. He's not a good guy.”

“I'm going to find my brother.” You said, as a way to end the conversation with Corbin, while reaching the main square.

“A’ight.” He nodded. “I'll help you find him.” Corbin offered, only to follow you while you weaved in and out of the crowd.

It didn't take long to find your brother, Rein. He was standing in front of the Justice Building with Ashlie glued to his side.

Before you could ditch Corbin and make it to your family, he noticed them. Gesturing towards them, he grabbed your hand and said, “come on, I see them.”

You snatched your hand out of his, only to say, “I can make my way over to Rein and Ashlie without any help. Maybe you should find your Auntie Maude Ivory, cause I doubt my brother wants to see you right now.”

“Fine, I'll go find Auntie Maude. But, Y/N, your brother needs to calm down. Being so fired up over nothing, but a misunderstanding’s ridiculous.” Corbin grumbled before storming off into the crowd, head searching for his kin.

Rein seemed to notice you or mainly he noticed the exchange you had with Corbin. As soon as you came up to Rein and Ashlie, your brother pointed his cigarette at you and hisissed, “I don't like how Corbin's looking at you. It ain't normal, Y/N.”

“Don't worry about it, Rein.” You brushed off your brother. Honestly, you knew he was just looking out for you, but you didn't want to deal with his protective big brother antics right now.

Taking your brother's cigarette from his fingers and taking a drag, his girlfriend, Ashlie remarked, “Rein’s right, the way that Everdeen boy looks at you ain't right. Comes ‘cross like he'd steal you away or something by how eerie his stare is.”

You opened your mouth to respond, only to hear Panem's anthem sound out into the air, marking that in a second the president would appear on screen to make his announcement. Clamping your mouth shut, you turned your attention to the large projection screen that was set up right next to the platform of the Justice Building.

Once the music came to a stop, the Panem emblem that was on screen was replaced by the scene of President Ravenstill (who was a frail old man) standing at a podium. Behind him was a tall man with slicked back platinum blonde hair and cold, crystal blue eyes. You couldn't help, but feel a sense of deja vu about the eyes of the Head Gamemaker, Coriolanus Snow.

Everyone in the square was glued to the TV screen as the president introduced himself with, “As you're all aware, the Gamemakers have come up with a way to remember the impact of the war. The Quarter Quell will mark a 25 year period, a milestone of the games, and will have a special theme for the Hunger Games. Head Gamemaker Snow has in his possession an envelope that holds the special theme for this year's first Quarter Quell.”

Turning to the man looming behind him, the president held out his hand for the envelope. Without a word, Head Gamemaker Snow pulled a gold encrusted envelope from his maroon coat pocket and handed it over to the president. President Ravenstill opened the envelope, only to announce, “As a reminder to everyone that it is the rebels fault for the games; for children being reaped, during this first Quarter Quell each District shall hold an election to vote for one male and one female tribute to send to the Capitol as tribute for the games.”

The president took a moment's pause only to end his speech with, “The Capitol has faith that each District shall vote to send their unwanted and rebel citizens to the arena.”

When the president sat down, much to everyone's surprise, Head Gamemaker Snow took the podium. “Don't forget, citizens of Panem, that the Victory Tour for the Victor of the 24th Hunger Games is next week. I hope that all of you, loyal citizens, join in on your district’s festivities and greetings for the victory tour.”

“Fucking pompous peacock asswipe wants us to be festive when the child killer he created gets paraded in our home. Fucking unbelievable.” You heard Corbin Everdeen loudly squawk from his spot a few yards away from you and your family. “Can't wait to see what bloody horrors he comes up with in this year's games considering Snowball’s having us send rebels and undesirables to the kiddie death match arena this go around.”

You were drawn out of your mental reverie down memory lane by a painfully rough timbre asking the question of, “Penny for your thoughts, darling?”

Looking over your shoulder, only to see Coriolanus slumped on the edge of the bed with blood staining the edge of his mouth, you retorted with, “I don't have any thoughts worth your penny.”

Your memory hit you with the hard reality that the man next to you, wheezing and barking with a bloody cough, was the reason behind your reaping. That it's his fault you even went to the games.

If he never gave President Ravenstill that golden envelope with the First Quarter Quell twist in it, then you never would've been reaped. Never would've been voted to be tribute in the Capitol's games.

Your district would've never sent you to die.

The weight of this sudden revelation was too much to bear.

“I can hear you thinking from over here, Y/N. What's the matter, my darling rose?” Coriolanus, the head gamemaker; the man who's the reason you got tossed into the games to fight for your life, asked as he tries to suppress his coughing.

Feeling overwhelmed, you snapped, “Don't call me that anymore. Coriolanus.”

The order took the man next to you off guard. He gave you a look, conveying that he was at a loss on where your sudden change of feelings stemmed from.

“I'm not your darling rose, I'm just the District 12 girl that got sent to die by everyone in her district because of your little twist on the reaping system.” You bitterly spat. Your body started to shake and you couldn't even look at the head gamemaker. “It's just dumb luck that I won. I wasn't supposed to win; nobody from 12 ever wins.”

Coriolanus attempted to confront you, even going as far as grabbing you and dragging you over to him. “Y/N, it's not my fault you got voted to participate in the games. The twist in the rules for the Quarter Quell was meant for the districts to send their troublesome and undesirables to the arena. It was never meant for-”

You pushed him away, which wasn't too hard since he was weak from the poison he ingested hours ago, and cut him off with a loud scream, “They sent me to die because of you!”

Coriolanus hated possessive and obsessive feelings (he won't dare say love, but you've managed to wiggle your way underneath his ribcage into his cold, dead, black heart) because they made him feel things such as hurt, guilt, empathy, etc. He hated feelings because they made him weak.

Right now, watching you have a breakdown because your district voted for you to be a tribute made him feel helpless and, in a way, guilty.

He hated feeling things.

He hates being weak.

He'd rather just feel lust for you coursing through his veins, but that wasn't the case tonight.

“They thought I wouldn't come back and everyone, everyone, back home sent me off to die as if I meant nothing. And they had the power to do it because of a fun new rule change.”

“Y/N…” Coriolanus sighed, scooting over slightly so he could wrap an arm around your shoulders. Pulling you into his chest, which felt like a thousand knives were stabbing it as an adverse effect of the poisoned wine he drank, he told you, “I'm sorry that they picked you to represent that backwater district, but it's not your home.” Using his free hand to tilt your chin up, making your eyes lock onto his, he reminded you, “Your home's here with me, in the Capitol, now. I promise, I won't let you get hurt ever again.”

Feeling another bloody cough threatening to take over him, the platinum blonde weakly shifted the both of you closer to the edge of the bed.

All the while you let out a cry of, “I never bothered anybody and I graduated top of my class. I had an internship at the apothecary, Coriolanus.” Your voice quivered as you wailed, “I never thought that they'd pick me to go die, but they did.”

Seeing you crying your beautiful eyes out over the fact that those dirty scumbags in the coal district sent you to the Capitol with the intention of you dying sent a pang right through his icy, cold, dead heart. It made his chest tighten seeing you so upset over your district choosing you, a very smart girl that's nothing like the other whores of District 12, to be the female tribute.

The platinum blonde man hated seeing you emotional over a bunch of assholes. Assholes that were worth less than the shit on the bottom of a boot. You're his Victor, his darling rose, and he can't have you falling apart over a filthy district full of uneducated hillbillies that mine coal underground all day.

Pulling you closer into his chest, while trying to fight off a bloody coughing fit, Coryo soothingly combed his long fingers through your hair while telling you, “I know, my darling rose. I know, it hurts that they picked you when they shouldn't have.” Pressing a kiss to your hair, he continued his attempts to soothe you. “But you survived despite what those district coal dust covered dogs thought.”

He let out a bloody cough, using his hand to cover his mouth so the blood splatter wouldn't hit you since your head's tucked under his chin; right against his chest.

Coriolanus’ words should've brought you comfort or at least calm you down a fraction, but they didn't. Right now, you feel like nothing could make you feel better.

Nothing, but the answer to the most important question circling your mind.

“Why did they pick me? I never did anything wrong.” You asked, looking up at Coriolanus with tears shining in your eyes.

Seeing tears falling from your eyes, staining your cheeks as you asked him a question he honestly didn't have the answer for gutted him. It made him feel weak and useless.

He hates feeling weak and useless.

Coriolanus made a mental note to ask Smiley, when he calls him up tomorrow to ask him for a favor concerning the acquisition of your apothecary book, to find out all the names of the people that voted for you to get sent into the games as tribute.

Despite what everyone thinks, the voting isn't anonymous. The Peacekeepers have records of who voted for who considering the grunts were the ones keeping track of and tallying the votes.

Anyways, Coriolanus was going to find out who voted for you and make them pay. Nobody makes his darling rose cry her eyes out and gets away with it.

Nobody sends what's his to the slaughter and gets away with it either.

Despite the fact that you weren't even with him at the time of your reaping, the platinum blonde wants to hurt and punish everyone that had a hand in hurting you.

Maybe he should look in the mirror and cuss himself out, since he's the mastermind behind the rules and the arena that caused you pain. But, Coriolanus Snow will never own up to it.

No….

He didn't play a hand in your tribute problems.

No….

It's those damn district drunks and whores that's to blame.

Coriolanus wiped away your tears with the rough pad of his thumb. “I don't know why they picked you, my darling rose.” Shushing you, he said, “You need to calm down, Y/N. You're with me and, remember, we promised to take care of each other; to keep each other safe.”

All you could do was nod your head in his chest and sniffle.

“You belong to me and I belong to you, remember?” Coriolanus asked, reminding you that he could be trusted, as he felt a coughing fit threatened to take over his body.

“Are you sure you want me to be yours, Coryo? I'm damaged goods now; the games changed me. I'm a mess.” You asked, the overwhelming feeling to start crying threatening to take over, as the man holding you let out a series of loud, biting, bloody coughs.

Coryo cleared his throat, feeling blood bubble up and slide down into the pit of his stomach. Not even thinking about wiping off his blood soaked hand, he placed his hand onto your back and began to run soothing circles. The blood stained your oversized sweater, most likely ruining it. But at this moment, blood staining a sweater didn't matter.

The only thing that mattered was calming you down so you'd get some much needed sleep.

Coriolanus’ other hand softly petted your hair as a comforting gesture.

He leaned his head against his pillow, only to assure you, “You're not damaged, Y/N. You're a survivor; a victor.” You were slowly beginning to calm down as his timbre filled the air with, “Life's arena changes all victors, myself included, and the fact that you're strong enough to land on top makes you worthy enough to be mine.”

And you were his, whether you wanted to accept it or not. You'll always belong to him. Nothing could ever change that.

Because once Coriolanus Snow becomes obsessed with somebody, he'll smother them in his hold and never let them go.

You just happened to be the recipient of his obsession. All because when he saw you walk onto the reaping stage in your red floral dress with your hair pulled back in a bow, he felt a primal urge; a raging desire to have you.

It was an instant obsessive love at first sight.

So, if it wasn't for the Quarter Quell twist you might never have become the obsession of the man whose arms you're being comforted in.

Or maybe the gods would've found a way to stick you two together. A way for him to find you, become obsessed with you to the point that he’d kill to have you by his side in the Capitol.

Just because you and Coriolanus don't believe in the gods, fate, or mystics doesn't mean that they don't exist.

Because no matter what, it's you and him now.

You and Coriolanus, and all of your demons.

Tags: @kuroosbby001, @purriteen, @poppyflower-22, @meetmeatyourworst, @whipwhoops, @bxtchopolis, @readingthingsonhere,@savagenctzen, @ryswritingrecord, @erikasurfer, @tulips2715, @universal-s1ut, @thesmutconnoisseur, @squidscottjeans, @sudek4l, @wearemadeofstardust0, @mashiromochi, @gracieroxzy, @belcalis9503, @shari-berri, @aoi-targaryen, @whiteoakoak, @spear-bearing-bi-witch, @gisellesprettylies @loverandqueenofdragons, @qoopeeya, @mfnqueen1, @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 @urfavnoirette

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ohdeersthings · 1 year

Text

Beautiful Sounds

Neteyam x Metkayina!Deaf!FReader

Summary: Neteyam finds a way

Warnings: Fluffffffff for daayyys, angst 👀 we are caught up in our feelings, not proof read

A big thank you to @iikatsukii for this idea! I hope you like it, I tried my best 😭😂

Part 2 to this little beauty:

Neteyam thought he could never love anything so much until he met you. Learning your clans ways brought new insights to how the world can be so different but still beautiful. You were an example of that.

Even though you couldn't hear, you learned how to dance with elegance from the vibrations in the sand, he saw the patience you had with children, taking the time to guide them and understand what they needed, sometimes better than their own parents.

What really took his heart was how you found the simple joys of everyday life. The look of bliss on your face when the ocean sprays you with its salty mist, the contempt in your eyes as you looked at your family and friends. The love you expressed through your hands and body when you hugged or kissed him.

He thought you deserved to hear more than anyone, which is why after two months of communicating and deliberation with Norm and Max, they finally made the first set of hearing implants for Na'vi. A beautiful aqua to match your skin tone, and water proof so you could hear underwater as well.

As Neteyam watched from the shoreline as you raced your sister on Ilus, he couldn't help but feel nervous. He's practiced so hard with you and the others with sign language and yet he still continued to mess up sometimes. You never got angry or upset, just flashed your beautiful smile and repeated what he was trying to sign so he could practice again.

He'd especially been practicing for something special to you when the time came right, of course getting past Tonowari and Ronal wouldn't be easy. Taking one last glance at your figure, he turned and headed for the Marui pod that he knew your family resided in.

~.~

Ronal hissed and threw a shell at Neteyam which he ducked out of the way of, "You dare ask me such a question! That demon device will ruin her!" Tonowari just shook his head at his mate, she was nearing the end of her pregnancy and was very cranky.

"It'll help her hear! She can finally here all of you and everything around her!" Neteyam raised his hands in the air, trying to calm the angry pregnant woman. "Ronal, maybe she should give it a chance," Tonowari reasoned, Ronal growling lowly.

"You want to change her? You asked us mere days ago to mate and now you want this!? I pray to Great Mother to have the strength to not bury you alive! Skxawng!"

"No I don't want to change her! I want her to experience things that I know she longs for," Tonowari placed his hand on Ronal's shoulders giving her a look to calm down. Ronal did so, but not happily.

Both turned towards the young man, which he took as a continuation, "I promise, I love everything about her. The way she looks at the horizon with longing, wanting to go there and explore. The way (Y/n) wants to join in on everything everyone is doing but knows she can't hear everything, you may not have seen it, but I can. I hate that she cannot experience the wonderful sounds of the world, but if I could help her make one thing...The thing I know she may long for the most happen, I would crawl through viper thorns to do so, so please, let me try this," he begged at this point, taking a knee before the leaders of the clan.

Glancing at eachother, Tonowari spoke for both, "Very well, if she wants to try it, you have our blessing," Neteyam grinned, thanking them as he ran out the Marui pod to find you.

"You know he would never hurt her, Ronal?" Tonowari smiled at his mate gently, who rolled her eyes in annoyance, "Maybe Eywa will give me strength to not bury you, Tonowari,"

~.~

You huffed air laughing as Neteyam grabbed your hand, dragging you through the trees that surrounded the island.

Tapping his hand, he turned to you so he could watch, 'Where are we going?'

'Somewhere private' he replied, your smile wide as you let him carry on guiding you.

Coming to a beach front, your eyes saw a wonderful sight of a hand weaved blanket on the beach with some delicious fruit you adored. The sun was almost the horizon, the beauitful shades of orange and pink beginning to shine on the clouds and sky.

He led you down and helped sit you on the blanket, his eyes holding nothing but love for you. You returned the gaze, hand caressing his face as he lightly pecked your lips.

"I have something, for you," he gestured, you nodding, eyes staring at his figure so you wouldn't miss anything.

Pulling out a blue box from his hip bag, he opened it to reveal two small, weird looking devices. Your eyebrow furrowed, glancing up at him confused. Was this a forest thing? Why did it look like something sky demons made?

"Oh right, um," Neteyam mumbled to himself, licking his lips as he put the box down, hands moving slowly as he thought each sign out.

"These," points to the box, "help you, hear," he tried to keep it short and to the point. Yet this only confused you more.

"I cannot hear, how can these help me?" Your hands were moving quickly, 'I don't understand-' he took your hands into his, holding them close to his chest to try and regain your attention, your eyes narrowed with unease and confusion.

He let go slowly, his hands moving the same time as his lips, "These go in here," he gestured to your ear, "and when turned on, they let you hear," you slowly nodded, Neteyam picking up the box and holding it to you, the sunset reflecting of your eyes as you nodded to him.

Closing your eyes as you felt his hand gently place the small things in your ears, the other holding your cheek in reassurance.

He pressed on something, a small high pitched noise filled your ears which made your eyes shoot open. You looked around frantically, hands covering your ears and the devices from the shock of hearing something for the first time.

Neteyam placed his hands over yours, holding your head as your eyes turned to him with fear. He breathed in and out, eyes trained on yours as you began to copy him, slowly relaxing.

You both moved your hands, your ears twitching as you heard something else. A soft roaring and crashing sound that made you look to the water, eyes filling with tears as you signed, "waves?" His face lighting up and nodding, taking your hand as he helped you up.

You stared out into the giant mass of blue, the sound of the waves flooding every sense you had. The distant calls of birds and animals soon followed, all overwhelming but yet so majestic in your eyes.

Your hands came to cover your mouth and muffle your sobs as you began to cry. The world sounded different than you had ever thought, it sounded better.

Neteyam wrapped his arm around your shoulder to comfort you. Your shoulders slowly stopped shaking as you gazed up at him.

"(Y/n)" he whispered, your face morphing into one of disbelief. He sounded as gorgeous as he looked.

You tapped his lips, a grin on your face as you turned your body to face him completely now. "You can hear me?" He asked, your smile wide as you nodded. "There's something I want to ask you. I thought I would ask like this, but I want to ask you in your own way," he gently caressed your face as you nodded, feeling a small rush of adrenaline from all the excitement.

You never thought he would go through all this trouble for you, this just showing you how much he truly cared.

He held your hands, giving them a squeeze before taking a step back to see your whole body. Also incase he had to run from rejection.

'You are so beautiful,' he started, your eyes narrowing in curiosity, wondering where he was going with this. You were very flattered though as you shyly shuffled.

'When I look at you, I think of home' he started fumbling a little bit, but you smiled at him which gave him strength to keep going. "I want to spend the rest of my life, with you,'

Your mind suddenly went blank, realizing what he was asking, 'Will you be my mate?' He finished with a shy smile, but you were only staring at him with a blank expression.

A cold shiver ran down his spine, you weren't saying or doing anything. Just starting at him.

"(Y/n)?" He asked softly, taking a step forward to grab your fingers, but you jerked back suddenly, your ears flattened as you turned and ran.

Neteyam could only stare heartbroken as you disappeared from view, the sun now down below the horizon.

~.~

'You did what!?' Tsireya signed, but you didn't see it as you were hiding your face in your hands in shame. Tsireya tapped you, your glossy eyes looking at her disbelief ones. 'You left him without an answer? I thought you loved Neteyam!' 'I do!' You began, teeth gritting together, 'why would he want me?' You sobbed, tears begging to flow passed your waterline, Tsireya looking at you in empathy. 'I cannot hear, I cannot talk well, I only babble like newborn baby,' you began to hiccup, 'He gave me these to help me hear, I wish to talk to him like he can with me, but my voice is ugly,'

Tsireya grabbed your shoulders, her look fierce as she shook her head, "No! Your voice is beautiful and unique!" She knew you didn't take the sky peoples devices out, so you could hear her.

And hear her you would.

"Neteyam begged mother and father for weeks before they agreed! He planned these hearing devices for months. He loves you, all of you!" Tsireya exclaimed, your whimpers making her hug you close. "If you wish to speak to him, we will help you," Tsireya declared, her heart breaking for her older sister.

(Y/n) spent her whole life looking after others, even with the loss of hearing. Tsireya felt a few tears slip through her own eyelashes as she's never seen you this upset before. You were always smiling for everyone, the first one out and the last one in. You never told anyone how you truly felt.

Tsireya promised to Eywa she would make it right.

~.~

You avoided Neteyam for days, diving out of sight when you caught a glimpse of the oldest Sully sibling, your heart filled with guilt. You never meant to hurt him, but how could you face him before you were ready.

The Sully siblings, aside from Neteyam, knew what you were doing and tried their best to help both sides, but they still felt bad for their oldest brother.

Your own siblings helped you morning and night in getting your words more precise and clean, the pronunciation being the hardest as you technically never had to speak Na'vi or English before.

You sat in that beach shore cove Neteyam had brought you to only days prior, your eyes clenched in frustration as you tried again.

"oil ngatee kameee," the simple phrase of 'I see you' fell from your lips as you groaned in your throat. You were never going to get it, they sounded slurred together and it was hard to understand.

Taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes and tried again, "oel ngati kameie," this time it sounded better, but you really had to think and enunciate with your lips.

Head falling into your hands, you felt a few tears slip out. Why did Neteyam choose you? There are better girls, ones who weren't at a disadvantage like you were.

Standing up, you turned to see Neteyam right behind you.

You gasped inwardly, taking a few steps back. Neteyam only stared at you with a inquiring look, but you could see the hurt in his eyes too.

'I'm sorry,' you signed, looking down so your bohemian knotless braids covered your face. You couldn't face him. 'I'll leave now,' you made to scurry past him when he grabbed your hand, your breath hitching as you were frozen in place.

He carefully walked around to face you, his face looking solem at your stiff body. 'Why?' He questioned, you feeling tears staring to build up. 'Many girls better than me,' you answered, his shocked expression taking you off guard. 'No one is better than you, I only want you, now and forever,' he signed passionately, your tears streaming down your face as you shook your head.

'I sound like a baby, I cannot talk like an adult,' you desperately tried to get him to see, but he only shook his head at you.

'I have never heard your voice, but your quiet huff bring music to my ears. My heart yearns for yours so that they may beat together. Make their own sound, together. As one," Neteyam emphasized, never seeing you look so down heartened as you did right now.

Lo'ak had finally cracked and told him that you'd been practicing your voice and speech so that you could be better. Better for him. When all Neteyam wanted was you. He was so lost these last few days, never seeing you and his thoughts running wild on why you rejected him.

'Please, I stand here with my heart for you. I only want you, (Y/n)," he whispered, pressing his forehead to yours, his eyes closed in pain as he wished you could see yourself how he does.

"Neteyam," you whispered, his eyes shooting open as your lips twitched. "Yes," you said answered, his face changing rapidly between emotions.

"Y-yes? Yes you'll be my mate?!" He exclaimed, his eyes turning glossy as he realized you'd just spoken to him. You laughed and nodded, Neteyam cackling as he picked you up and spun you around.

"She said yes!" He yelled out, both of you now laughing like idiots as he fell back, both of you landing in the sand.

You rolled over, lips connecting with his with urgency as he gave it right back. Both of you in each other's embrace, fitting perfect together like a puzzle.

'I love you,(Y/n)' he signed, eyes filled with adoration cause you to smile back shyly, "I love you, Neteyam,"

Even though Neteyam had given you the blessing of being able to hear, the most beauitful sound you'd ever heard was his voice.

You couldn't wait to listen to it for the rest of your life.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@eywas-heir @jimfiqs @minkyungseokie

@bealone-prm @thecrazyswamp

@he110hon @urforevermore

@iikatsukii

#avatar #avatar the way of water #avatar: the way of water #neteyam #neteyam x metkayina!reader #neteyam x reader #neteyam x y/n #neteyamxdeafreader #neteyam x you #neteyam x na'vi!reader #neteyam x oc #atwow fanfiction #atwow imagines #atwow angst #atwow x reader #atwow neteyam

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spookie-bitch · 3 months

Text

Mischeif

Pairings: Wednesday Addams X Fem!Demon!Reader

Contains: fluff, angst, comfort

Warnings: mentions of death, language, gore, and spoilers.

You tossed your bag down by your bed and sat down, "Why in the world does principal Weems think it's a good idea to give me another roommate," you think angrily, "It won't end any different than the last few and she knows it!" Nonetheless you still had taken the time out of your day to clear out half of the room to accommodate for them, even though they won't be there for longer than two weeks. Weems always said it was because I was just more than they were used too, but I think we both know that the're actually scared, everyone is.

Your thoughts were interrupted by a loud knock at the door. "That's strange," you thought looking at your watch,"the're not supposed to be here for another hour." You make your way over to the door, opening it to be met my principal Weem's smiling face. "Your early," you say dryly. "Just wanted to check in before they arrive," she says, "But by the looks of it you've already got everything under control," she says in a proud tone, surveying the room. You say nothing, hoping that your silence would imply that you were already done with the conversation. "I know what your probably thinking," she says, " but I believe that you and this girl will become the best of friends." You sigh, slightly annoyed with the conversation, "That's what you said about the other ones too," you remind her.

She frowns, "Look y/n, I want you to try your best with this one," she says in a more serious tone, "I usually don't ask that much of you in these situations, so I ask that you just to your best." "Fine," you reply bitterly. She seems satisfied with your answer, "well then, I'll be on my way then," she says turning to leave. "No promises," you yell, closing the door before she has the chance to respond. You sit back down on your bed and put your headphones on, frustrated and annoyed, you tail flicking back and forth viciously as a sign of your annoyance.

After a while, their is another knock on the door and you groan, pausing the music coming from your headphones and opening the door. "Wednesday, this is y/n," Weems said giving you her usual smile. "Oh it has horns dear," remarks a tall, pale, woman with long, raven hair. "I am not an it," you growl, your tail wrapping around your legs definitely, causing Weems to look a bit nervous. The girl who you assume is Wednesday gives you a slow look up and down, her expression remaining cold and emotionless. After a few moments of awkward silence, principle Weems breaks the silence, "well why don't we go and get Wednesday's schedule and after Ms. Y/n can give her a tour of the school."

Nobody objects to the idea and they turn to leave, but before Weems closes the door she gives you a look that tells you not to do anything stupid while showing the girl around. After a bit, only the girl returned to the room, you had been sitting on your bed listening to music while waiting. "I believe you're supposed to show me around this prison," stated Wednesday, surveying you again. You look back at the pigtailed girl, guy up off the bed and walk towards the door, clearly agitated. "Someone's in a mood," Wednesday comments, following you.

Once you finish showing her around, you plop back down on your bed and begin to draw, praying that you will be left alone. Lucky, Wednesday minds her own business and stays on her side of the room doing God knows what when a thought pops into your mind. "Wednesday sure is a weird name," you blirt out almost to quickly, instantly regretting it as all motion in the room stopps. "So I've been told," replies Wednesday. "As far as names go, it's not the most traditional. But that's fine by me, I'm not exactly the most traditional person." "What's your deal anyway, you've barely said a word since you got here and you've just been silently judging everyone," you add, intrigued by the girls unnatural behavior.

"I find social interaction tiresome and pointless," she replies dryly. "Of course you do."

#jenna ortega fanfic #jenna ortega x fem reader #jenna ortega x you #lesbian pride #lgbtq #wednesday x fem!reader #wednesday x you #wednesday fanfic #wednesday addams #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x y/n #wednesday #jenna marie ortega #wednsday addams

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yourdoorisunlocked · 7 days

Text

I'll Never Meet Another You - Part 3

📺 【 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑰 | 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑰𝑰 | 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑰𝑰𝑰 】📺

𝐀/𝐍: *coryxkenshin ass entrance* Hey! W-Wassup? *sweats uncomfortably* It's been a while...

➺ 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬: Obsession, stalking, Boss/Favored Employee, manipulation, Vox having no sense of boundaries, but you don't notice because you're too busy fangirling lmao ➺ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟏,𝟖𝟔𝟖

. . .

The commotion of rushing employees, frantic in their pace to their respective workplaces and office buildings nearly dizzied you on your way to the tallest building in the Entertainment District. Neon luxury bathed every street of the promiscuous sector, composed of streets filled with depraved Sinners, and had your wandering eyes widened with awed stars.

You had attempted to put more confidence into your steps as you walked around the district, trusting your phone to lead you to the Vee’s main headquarters, despite being slightly shaken by your surroundings.

But you were determined to keep up the facade of not being too shifty, shy, or ready to bolt. It wasn’t like you even could bolt, anyway. You’d missed your morning shift, and God only knows what would happen to you if you returned to that diner...

The soft whirring of an overheated camera barely caught your attention, as you were so wrapped in your own little world to notice how the lens adjusted to look directly at you, glaring down at you as you walked.

The cameras set above the entire city, unbeknownst to cute, quaint little you, had zeroed in on your form since your arrival, wearing a large overcoat – slightly worn, but suitable – over the delicious little outfit that had one demon in particular frothing at the mouth.

He couldn’t wait to pick out his own little outfits for you to wear, all tailored to match him and his tastes. Just imagining his cute, future wife clad in the dresses that housewives would wear in his time was enough to send the demon into complete overdrive.

Vox was already walking around the halls in a calm frenzy as soon as you slammed the door to your apartment, with your filled-out application in hand. His nerves wouldn't allow him to sit still, not for a moment, not while his dearest was out there, on the streets for any to grab!

He had even watched with growing tension as you debated over whether you should go to the interview, to which he nearly activated his hypnotism to just push you out the door and into his arms already-!

Vox cleared his throat. No need to lose his patience, now. You were here, in his domain. No other unworthy scum of a Sinner could snatch you up, now.

Besides, you put in so much effort to impress your future husband boss, shouldn’t he do the same for you?

. . .

“Are you deaf, or just that fucking ᵾꞩēłēꞩꞩ?” Vox barked to the nearest intern, watching them with pure contempt as they shuddered under his icy glare.

“I-I’m sorry, Sir! I’ll put in an a-appointment with her right away!”

“Good. Clear my schedule of other meetings for now, and have my office prepared for my appointment.”

Shock dawned on the intern’s face, but before another moment passed, he stuttered pitifully, “Uhm, could I get her name, S-Sir?”

Antenna sparking impatiently, Vox allowed your name tumble softly from his lips. No trace of malice from his exhausted frustration poisoning his words.

The tension in his padded shoulders loosened just ever so slightly, before he snapped again at the young trainee, who was blinking dumbly up at him with his mouth agape.

He’d never seen his boss so calm... It set the hairs on his neck to stand on-end.

“You got that?”

The intern jumped, glasses nearly falling off his nose as he frantically jotted down your name. “Got i-it!”

With that, he quickly scampered away to let his other staff members aware of the boss’s new assistant, a shiny toy that innocently wandered the streets of Hell without a care in the world. He prayed for whatever poor soul managed to catch his employer's ever-watching eyes.

Vox rolled his eyes with a disgusted groan before starting again down the hallway. Fluorescent lights bloomed ahead of him, setting a pale, neon path of electric teal and offices stretching literal miles until the nearest elevator.

He probably shouldn’t have left such an important task to some incompetent underling, but there was too much on his plate to deal with it, for now. He had a date meeting with a lovely little doll to prepare for.

For every section of the Vee’s tower, there was a flair completely unique to each member, whether that be Velvet’s more glamourous, chic wardrobe of bone-thin, overworked models, Valentino’s debauched studio simmering with lust around every corner, or the advanced, technologically-inclined office floors where Vox normally dwelled.

Floors that you would rule over, seated comfortably next to him.

Pointed dress shoes, tipped with cyan flared blue sparks against the polished marble floors like the very electricity the Overlord emitted. Had anyone walked past Vox in that moment, the hairs on the back of their necks and arms would have risen in tandem with the crackling energy that tainted the frigid air.

There was very little in Vox’s afterlife that brought him comfort, but he couldn’t help but find solace in the thought of you rushing down the streets of the Entertainment District, simply to make it on time to your appointment with him.

Honestly, it was only a matter of time before he had you in his clutches. Like a naive little lamb to the slaughter, you trusted him with your very soul.

And, no doubt, that would very soon belong to him, too.

Vox nearly blue-screened at the thought of a chain around your neck, emblazoned with his name, electric-blue and sparking against your tender skin. He could feel the light buzzing around his cheeks that flared up in a soft lavender-pink against his interface.

Just then, the equivalent of hairs rising on the back of Vox's neck came in a series of light sparks tickling the outlets on the back of his head.

“Voxxy~!”

Ӻᵾȼҟīꞥꞡ-

Immediately fixing his grimace, Vox swerved around on his heel with the most tooth-grinding smile he could muster, though a twitch of his left eye was a dead giveaway.

Valentino didn't so much as blink at the Overlord's obvious irritation, not at all taking the hint that maybe this wasn't the best time to pester him with whatever the fuck Val was failing to manage now-

"I've been looking for you everywhere, cariño!" The oversized insect said with too wide a smile, too forced a laugh, and Vox knew he was in for an interrogation - either that, or Val was, once again, trying to rope him into bed.

"You've been locked up in that apartment of yours for so long, amour, why don't we relax for a bit~?"

Vox didn't allow Valentino to usher him a single step away from the large window he'd been overlooking the district, wondering which shadow that scurried the streets belonged to you.

And what a sudden appearance, too. If his mind weren't swarming with thoughts of where you could be at the moment, Vox would've been questioning the sudden - and painfully obvious - distraction Valentino was trying to pose.

"I don't have time for that, right now," Vox brushed off his touch with a disgusted glower. "I have a meeting in ten, so it's going to have to wait, Val." He turned to walk away, albeit with his feathers slightly ruffled, but it was nothing that a couple moments spent with you couldn't-

"A meeting?" The moth demon blinked, his eyes adjusting to the blaring lights ahead. Vox was surprised that Valentino had even made an effort to visit him on his floor, since the Overlord was clearly blind out of his wits.

"Hm... Could this have something to do with whatever's been distracting you from your job, recently? Or..." Valentino scowled down at Vox with a narrowed, scrutinizing gaze taking in the sudden tensity in his padded shoulders.

His face curled into a triumphant sneer when Vox stopped dead in his tracks. If there was anything Valentino hated, it was being ignored.

"Or whoever?" Crimson tendrils of smoke blew from the moth's mouth, tainted by his ire. "They're probably a good fuck, if they managed to match up to your standards," with another smokey drag, Val rolled his eyes up to the ceiling. "Since you won't take any of my whores."

"Ɇӿȼᵾꞩē ᵯē?"

White-hot electrical currents climbed up Vox's throat, spreading through his fingertips and zapping at the antenna of his hat. He glared up at Valentino through glitching red eye sockets, daring him to overstep further.

The moth hid a heated shiver underneath Vox's murderous gaze, his glitching eyes sharpened, poisonous blades slitting into his skin at the mention of you.

Oh, you... You were different, weren't you? Not just some cumdump for Vox to use and abuse all in one night, nothing like his dolls that would return to him, bruised and in hysterics because of what Vox did to them.

No. You were special to him. The very thought made Valentino's blood seethe.

"You are certainly one to talk about being distracted."

The porn director took no offense to Vox's insinuation, already as comfortable as he could be with the knowledge that it was the television demon who took reign of the strings.

With overflowing confidence, He simply crossed his arms with a venomous smirk, jutting his hip out beneath one of his lower arms.

Val's way of blowing off steam would one day surely get him brutally murdered. By his own fellow Overlord, no less.

"Aw, did I touch a nerve there, Voxxy~?"

And Vox was two seconds away from ripping the insect apart.

"Don't ӻᵾȼҟīꞥꞡ test me right now-"

"Sir?"

A small, agitating buzz coming from the installed intercom on Vox's face further tipped the overflowing bucket of his impatience. Yet another idiotic distraction from you, another obstruction from his darling's side.

With a final, stinging glower shot towards Valentino, and a non-committal grunt, his claw gave a single tap to the now prominent phone icon on the side of his face.

"Go manage one of your sluts, Val. Maybe actually do your fucking job, for a change."

Vox spared no glance to the moth, but a spiteful scoff and the clicking of back-breaking heels stomping away from him gave enough closure.

"Ӻᵾȼҟīꞥꞡ ⱳħⱥⱦ?" The noxious growl of Vox practically grinding his teeth into the intercom sent jolts of spiking electricity down the employee's spine.

Fuck, this must've really not been a good time to bother him.

The employee huffed as sweat formed at his brow. He mustered up the courage to speak again after feeling as if his tongue would be cut out, should he utter a syllable.

Maybe give Vox the coffee with the sweeter creamer, next time.

"Well, uhm... The lady you wanted me to set up an appointment for... S-She's already here, sir."

Every ounce of bottled-up fury dissipated. Like a sudden, Godsent sunlight bursting through thunderous clouds, the storm in Vox's mind suddenly evaporated into thin air.

Vox tried to grasp his once boiling-hot, downright murderous fury, but the mention of you had stolen every bit of attention he had to spare. Only one emotion - or a muddle of them, really - managed to seep through his voice, into a single syllable.

Shock, surprise, disbelief, jittering excitement, and then...

"What?"

. . .

𝐄𝐧𝐝 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: So, I know its been *checks calendar* (fucking hell- TWO MONTHS??) a while since I've updated this fic, but I swear there is a perfectly reasonable, understandable explanation.

The Vox brainrot has failed me, and I've been indoctrinated into the Welcome Home fandom (do expect some fics about WH btw) ANYWAYS! enough rambling, thank you so much for reading, and I'll see you next time :)

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @starsformydarlingmazel, @chitter-chatter, @hazzbindarlingg, @darkangel582, @matrixbearer2024, @prosciuttosblog, @frog-fans-unite, @mysterypotatoink, @burgerflipper72, @chibikochannumberone, @strawberry-gothic, @roboticsuccubus83, @lulurubberduckie, @fangirlanxiety74, @viviannagiorgini, @localmsifan, @justtnat, @karolinda007-blog, @mglawwica, @wonderlandangelsposts, @saitisfied, @repostingmyfavs, @weirdflower2024, @montis-posts, @sirens-and-moonflowers, @theperfectmangovoid.

@slytherin4ever, @i-love-jafar, @itzlochnessie, @mariaclarade-la-cruz1, @susvale, @valentique, @twismare, @robin-the-enby, @v3n7s, @forbidden-sunlight, @leathesimp, @matemor, @groovybear99, @frompeach, @moonmark98, @nyxnightshade7656, @sushigogo, @crowleysthings, @zombiesnips-blog, @sirens-and-moonflowers, @impulsivethoughtsat2am, @ashdaidiot, @crybabycat1, @repostingmyfavs, @crazii-saber-wolf, @reikamasama, @dudesorriso, @speckle-meow-meow, @alastor-simp.

@maggotzdilemma, @cassidywinters, @justgiulia, @lucifers-silhouette, @going2hell4hazbin, @martinys-world

#vox x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #yourdoorisunlocked #yandere vox x reader #hazbin vox #GUYS IK IT'S BEEN A WHILE

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flowerandblood · 9 months

Text

The Impossible Choice (24)

[ Aemond • Targaryen x Baratheon! • female ]

[ warnings: sex content, smut, angst, violence, domination ]

[description: Aemond comes to Storm’s End to choose his future consort. However, Lord Borros Baratheon presents him with only four of his five daughters. Being attached to his youngest child, he does not want to marry her. The prince, however, thwarts his and her plans with his decision. This is slow burn, with a lot of dark angst and sexual tension. (Anon Request)]

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

Previous and next chapters: Masterlist

______

As he left King's Landing his heart was breaking − he left his wife a letter with words of repentance and a request that she pray for him while he was away.

He could not forgive himself for what he had said to her and for abandoning her, leaving her with his brother. He told his mother to guard her and not let Aegon touch her, but he knew that his brother was now insane.

They arrived in Harrenhal after two days; plunged into his own gloom and desperation, he burned everything he saw in his path, not caring whether he was burning warriors and knights or ordinary folk.

All that was left of it was ashes.

He wanted to deal with the uprising as quickly as possible.

He condemned those who remained to death − children, mothers, husbands, old men, one by one. He watched as they walked in columns to the scaffold, weeping and wailing.

He felt nothing.

He was a fire and burned everything in its path.

At the very end, however, a woman remained.

She stood before him in her servant's attire − her raven black hair and piercing green eyes making her look downright dangerous, demonic. She did not lower her gaze, standing before him.

There was something about her that intrigued him.

There was a darkness in her similar to his own.

One of the captains dared to approach him and whispered in his ear:

"This is the Witch of Harrenhal, my Prince. Alys Rivers. Rumour has it that she murdered her own mother and is the bastard child of the Lord Strong. She can supposedly see the future and can heal." The man said and he raised an eyebrow.

He looked around, seeing his men lying on cloths with no hands, no eyes, with cuts and wounds, moaning in agony.

He couldn't kill a medic.

"Take her inside and guard her like a prisoner. She is to treat our warriors day and night." He said dispassionately, turning away, heading towards the fortress.

Several troops of the Princess's henchmen hid in the nearby woods, attacking them every night − despite him burning this area again and again, they still managed to protect themselves, coming out at night like rats.

The battles was prolonging, and he was already losing patience.

He spent most of the time alone in his chamber − his wife had not sent any letter to him and he feared that this was a bad omen. He guessed that she still did not want to speak to him, that she had not forgiven him.

He squeezed his eye shut at that thought, grabbing at his eye patch, feeling a burning, powerful pain pass through him − without his maester at his side, his sapphire was rubbing his skin, creating small bleeding wounds in his eye socket.

He shuddered when he heard a knock on the door of his chamber and looked towards it from the map that he had just been looking at.

"Come in." He said dryly.

He furrowed his brow as the woman, the bastard child of the Lord Strong, at least ten years older than him, walked inside.

She held a vessel of ointment in her hand.

She bowed before him meekly, her scent reaching his nostrils, a mixture of herbs and something else that he could not identify.

He knew she was a wet nurse, her breasts were full with milk, hidden just beneath her thin green shirt, her curves feminine, pleasing to the eye.

He pressed his lips together, feeling lust at the thought.

The lack of closeness to his wife for so long made it impossible for him to turn his attention away from such details.

"I have brought an ointment to apply to your eye, Your Grace. One of the guards conveyed me you were in pain." She said softly, her tone low, mysterious, filled with promise, something dangerous burning in her green eyes.

He thought she was made of fire, just like him.

He wasn't sure if he should agree, but the discomfort and pain he felt were unbearable.

He slipped his eye patch off his head, looking at her expectantly, curious about her reaction − the woman approached him slowly, placing the vessel on the table. She leaned over him, his gaze again involuntarily escaping to her breasts.

He saw that she smiled with the corner of her mouth and he realised that she was teasing him; the thought aroused and frustrated him at the same time.

Alys Rivers did not even flinch at the sight of his empty eye socket − she gently removed his sapphire eye and placed it on the cloth that she had earlier spread out on the table. She put the ointment on her finger and began to spread it gently on the sore skin of his eyesocket.

He realised that he had longed for that touch.

Her touch would be different, he thought.

Her hands would be smaller, her fingers longer; her lips would not curve in a lustful, confident smile, her eyes would be filled with attention and care.

She would have smelled of flowery, fresh oils.

She would be focused on her assignment, her warm breath would envelope his face − he would grasp her soft, plump breast in his hand, peeking through from under her thin nightgown, and she would giggle sweetly, asking him to let her do her task properly.

He would draw her onto his lap with impatient gesture, let her feel how much he craved her, and she would blush surely, speaking affectionately about how impatient her husband was.

He felt like crying at the thought.

Everything about his daily life was marked by her presence.

And now she was not by his side.

He shuddered when the woman's touch snapped him out of his reverie and he felt her hand on his palm − he took his hand from hers, looking away, filled with lust and desire, but no longer because of her.

If he didn't have a wife, he would have told her to stay, to be comforted, to experience at least a moment of solace.

But now, if he did, one important detail would frustrate him.

She wasn't her.

"You may leave." He said dryly, no longer bestowing his stare on her.

"I could give you an heir, Your Grace." She said, and he felt a shiver run down the back of his neck.

He looked at her, shocked by her words − she stood over him, a calm, sensual smile on her face.

She would give him an offspring.

A bastard child.

One like Jace, Luke and Joffrey.

One just like her.

Insolent whore.

"You may leave." He hissed, looking at her impatiently.

Alys took his words with surprising calmness.

"Your Grace." She said softly, bowing to him and turning away, heading towards the door in an unhurried motion, closing it behind her.

He sighed heavily, running his hand over his face, realising that he was on the verge of doing something that he would deeply regret.

Being separated from his wife for so long was affecting him worse and worse, the weight of his sins crushing him more and more.

He needed consolation.

He placed the precious stone in his eye socket again, but no longer put on his eye patch; he took the parchment and quill and wrote a message, which he rolled up. He called out to his servant, tying up the letter and gave it to him, telling him to send it immediately to King's Landing directly to his wife.

He wrote just one sentence inside.

Join me in Harrenhal.

He had been waiting impatiently ever since, elated at his own decision − he wasn't sure if Aegon would agree to her leaving, or if he would want to keep her in the Red Keep.

He felt uneasy at the very thought that his brother might have wanted to claim her for himself.

What frightened him the most, however, was the thought that his wife would not want to see him at all.

That she still hadn't forgiven him for his cruel words.

That he would never get her back.

When he didn't receive any message from her after a few days he became afraid − he avoided Alys like a fire, yet she appeared where he was like a shadow.

He felt as if she was a reflection of him, his animal brutality, all his primal desires.

He felt that just as in the presence of his wife he was regaining consciousness and peace of mind, with this woman he was getting closer and closer to madness, his heart as black as her hair.

He knew that she desired him and there was something about her that attracted him too − a need to self-destruct, to destroy himself and everything in his path.

He prayed every night to the Seven Gods for his wife to arrive, to save him, to light up the darkness of his mind.

The only thing that kept him from thinking he was mad was his faithfulness.

He was faithful to his family.

He was faithful to his wife.

He fucked himself with hand almost every night, seeking fulfilment, imagining that it was her soft fingers and lips touching him, that she had returned to him, that she forgave him.

That she loved him.

Completely immersed in his thoughts, he could no longer even focus on what Cole was saying to him at the daily councils − he fought strenuously against the desire to fly to King's Landing.

One night he was awakened from a restless sleep by a knock on the door − a servant walked into his chamber saying that a woman claiming to be his wife was waiting downstairs in the main hall.

He had never dressed so quickly before, not even allowing himself to be helped by a servant − he left his chamber, running down the cold stone stairs, full of desire and hope, praying that it was true.

He saw in the dim light of the torch a small figure dressed in a travelling attire − a simple grey cloak, white shirt, a black corset and breeches. He froze, stopping in place − she heard his footsteps as she turned immediately, her face pale and terrified.

Her eyes wide in fear, her braided hair wet with rain, her cheeks flushed with emotion, her sweet lips parted at the sight of him.

It was her.

She looked just as she had when he first saw her in Storm's End.

Pulsating with life, delicate, soft, warm.

His.

She had arrived.

She had forgiven him.

His wife.

He looked at her face, not knowing how she would react to seeing him, but she smiled so wonderfully, that he felt his face contort in pain and relief.

She ran towards him and he threw himself at her, grasping her in his arms, pressing his yearning lips, throbbing with desire to hers with a low moan of despair and relief.

He pushed her aggressively towards the wall, making her take a couple steps back, clamping his hand on her soft hair. They panted into each other's mouths, kissing greedily, sucking and brushing each other's puffy lips with a sticky click, his fingers nimbly untying her corset, spreading it apart. He took a firm hold of her soft breast covered by her thin shirt and they both made a sound of delight.

He paid no attention to the fact that all around them were guards and servants who didn't know where to look.

Let them watch, he thought.

Let Alys Rivers look at what she was trying to win with.

Let them know what happens when fire and water come together.

"− get out − all of you −" He commanded in a low voice hoarse with desire, kissing and sucking her long neck, her hands clenched in his hair, as her fingers traveled down his back, holding him close.

He needed to feel her, right now, right here.

The guards and servants obediently left the hall, followed by a silence broken only by their panting and moans. Their fingers quickly began to untie their breeches, impatiently trying to deal with the material that stood in their way.

"− forgive me − I didn't mean a word − I swear −" He exhaled, caressing her with his swollen, moist lips, her hot cheeks, her long neck, unable to decide what he wanted to feel more, what he longed for more, her scent filling his lungs like the freshest night air.

"− forgive me, my sweetest − it's all well now −" He said in a voice trembling with despair and desire, lifting her up in his arms, pressing her against the cold stone wall.

She sobbed loudly as the pink, swollen head of his cock forced it's way between her fleshy, slick folds, her legs entwined around his waist, her hands clenched in his hair. She pulled off his eye patch, kissing his forehead and he groaned low, his hips with sure thrust sinked deep into her yearning, hot walls, so wet and tight for him, sticky with her moisture, welcoming him home.

"− I know − I'm here −" He panted into her ear, resting his forehead against the wall, her hands sliding down to his buttocks, clenching her fingers on his skin, seeking her own fulfilment, her whining echoing around the room as he slammed into her again and again, spreading her wide on his fat, throbbing cock.

"− don't leave me − ah − please, don't send me back −" She mumbled, her head tilted back, her breasts wonderfully bare before him − his lips grasped her nipple and began to suck on it greedily, drawing a wonderfully sweet moan of pleasure from her chest, their bodies bumping against each other with a lewd, wet slaps.

"− never −" He exhaled loudly, speeding up his pace, rooting into her so brutally and quickly that he felt like they were both almost screaming, hot and sweaty, so close to their peak.

"− I'm going to fuck you all night − tonight − tomorrow − fuck − the day after tomorrow − do you understand? −" He hissed in her ear, pounding into her with all strength he had in his hips, his fingers clenched painfully tight on her buttocks, her fleshy, slick insides clenching against him, making him groan with pleasure.

"− yes − please − please − please, fill me −" She sobbed helplessly and he hugged his face to her cheek, feeling he was about to cry out with happiness, praying it wasn't a dream, moaning helplessly along with her, his hips slamming into her with deep, sure, desperate thrusts.

"− g-gods − yes − please − ah! −" She mewled, tilting her head back, startled by the wonderful, powerful fulfillment that ran through her body like a storm, her loins trembling in convulsions, the sound of his name rushing out of her mouth like a whimper again and again.

"− that's it − your husband is close −" He whispered tenderly into her ear and clenched his eye with a low, helpless groan when he felt his hot spend finally spill inside her again, relaxing him so wonderfully, giving him pleasure from which he felt like he was about to faint.

He fell to his knees with her, and she squealed loudly, locked in his embrace, panting with him − they sat like that on the floor, shocked at how intense the closeness was.

They both swallowed loudly, breathing heavily, his face snuggled into her neck, inhaling her scent, filling his lungs wonderfully.

He thought that he could fall asleep with her like this on this uncomfortably cold stone floor if she wanted him to.

Her presence was enough for him.

He decided, however, that he would take pity on her.

He had plans for her.

"− we will finish in my chamber −"

_____

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