#Stained Hearts and Dark Desires

[fukae-flwr]

Stained Hearts & Dark Desires

Chapter 1 Unexpected Reunions

Summary: Our story begins 7 years after the events of their 5th year at Hogwarts. Ominis and Sebastian check on Anne, who has been suspiciously silent for some time. Unexpectedly a long time enemy falls right into their hands.

Word count: 3.4k words

Rating: MATURE!!! 18+ (NO MINORS!!!)

Warnings: Violent thoughts and Slight mentions of murder but very brief

Chapter: 2,

“It's unlike Anne to not respond to your owls, Ominis.” Sebastian expressed his concerns. He took long strides in hopes to move faster towards Anne’s little cottage in Feldcroft. She had wanted to leave the cottage all together after what he had done, but having only been fifteen, and a female with no other living relatives willing to take her in, she had to stay, lest be an orphan on the streets.

With Ominis’s help, Anne was able to completely change the interior of the cottage, making it feel like a completely different home. With that and keeping her distance from Sebastian for the first three years, Anne was able to move on with her life. Sebastian wasn’t sure why, but after those three years, Anne finally wrote him a letter stating she’d be willing to slowly let him back in, but still held him responsible for their Uncle’s death.

Sebastian never felt more grateful than he did at that moment. He swore he’d never hurt her ever again like that. He has been working hard, at Anne’s pace of course, to win her back. She occasionally responded to his owls, but always responded to Ominis’s. It was fair, so he didn’t let his jealousy take hold of him; he understood the reason.

It was only recently when Ominis had sent his usual owl about their endeavors, that they realized Anne hadn’t sent a response in over a week. Usually Anne’s owl only took a few days, a week at most, but her replies were often consistent, unlike now. Which led them to where they were today, fastly approaching Anne’s cottage in hopes to find her in her living room going about her day. Due to prior engagements with the Ministry, they were unable to arrive in Feldcroft before sunset.

“I agree. Let’s hope she simply has not gotten around to sending her response yet.” Ominis was trying to stay positive, but Sebastian could tell from the look on his face, he was just as worried as he was. They quickly rushed to that familiar cottage with a lovely garden out front. Upon closer arrival, it was a little on the unmaintained side. Not quite fully neglected, but both the boys knew Anne enjoyed keeping her garden well maintained. If Anne was gone, she hadn’t been gone long.

“The garden is not as pristine as it should be,” Sebastian pointed out for Ominis.

“Perhaps she fell sick?” Ominis offered as he headed towards the front door. Sebastian close behind.

“Doubtful.” Even if she was sick, Anne could be as stubborn as Sebastian. She often thought since she survived through her curse, she could get through anything. Nothing stopped her from living her life anymore, not even something like illnesses.

It was dark inside, and much to their dismay, lifeless. Ominis walked over to the fireplace, while Sebastian ran to the bedroom upstairs. The bed was perfectly made and untouched. Everything was exactly where it had always been.

“The fireplace hasn’t been used in awhile.” Ominis called out. Feeling the suffocating anxiety building up inside, he quickly marched down the stairs.

“The bed hasn’t been touched either. Damn it!” Sebastian cursed.

“My wand isn’t depicting any signs of a struggle, perhaps she left of her volition?”

“Without telling either of us? Where could she have gone?”

Before Ominis could say anything, a loud thump filled the eerily quiet cottage. It was muffled as it must have come from outside.

“Outside. Quick!” Ominis quickly began to run out of the house. Sebastian right on his heels, headed for the source of the sound. Racing around the cottage, Sebastian spotted a woman not too far, running towards the forest line.

“Ominis!”

“I hear her!”

They both took off after her, Sebastian casting Arrest Momentum, but the woman rolled out of the way while turning to face them to throw a depulso back at him. Ominis was quick enough with pretago to block the spell, thankfully.

“It’s that woman Anne had over a while back!” Sebastian exclaimed as he threw out shots to stop her escape. She was clearly an expert at blocking the basic casts, throwing pretgo up at the right moments.

He recognized Penelope’s wavy long blonde hair, and piercing green eyes immediately. He had only met her once and it was over a year ago. Their first introduction had been pleasant, nothing out of the ordinary. She was overly friendly and apparently a fan of the both of them, but nothing all that strange. Thanks to the Daily Prophet, they had made quite the name for themselves.

Sebastian and Ominis chased Penelope into the forest, the woman avoiding all of their spells. She occasionally threw out a few spells herself, most of them being on the defensive side. Spells meant to slow or stop the opponent such as depulso, and glacius. She wasn’t really acting on the offense, only trying to get away. Something he wasn't going to let happen.

Finally getting close enough, Ominis casted the blasting curse at the closest tree to her, sending the large tree crumbling down in front of her. Pieces of the tree shot out towards her, knocking her slightly off balance while she shielded her face from the chunks. Taking the opportunity, Sebastian threw out the Incarcerous charm towards her. He watched the rope fly towards Penelope as she attempted to move out of the way after just barely gaining her composure. It wrapped itself around her legs, forcing her to fall backward down a slope off to the side.

“Got her!” Sebastian exclaimed victoriously.

“Good job, Sebastian!” Ominis quickly slid down the slope side, to reach her at the small clearing she had landed in. He quickly summoned her wand away from her, successfully cornering her. Sebastian, upon arriving noticed her little bag she carried had fallen off during her tumble. Some of her belongings laid out in the open off to the side. But what caught his eye was the faint glimpse of a mask poking out. Keeping her in his line of sight, he went over to her bag to find that the mask was an all too familiar one. A pale porcelain mask shined brightly, practically glowing in the moonlight. It had a few scratches here and there but otherwise remained well polished. This was the mask of the very dark wizard they had been hunting. A mask that often taunted Ominis and him whenever they had nearly captured the damn criminal. In a fury, he picked up the mask and marched closer to the woman. Why in Merlin’s beard did she have that blasted mask?!

“Where is Anne?” Ominis questioned.

“Ominis.” Sebastian handed the mask to him, never taking his eyes off the criminal.

Those same piercing green eyes just glared at the both of them remaining silent. Penelope had already taken the ropes off her ankles but knew she was cornered so made no move. Not once did she glance at the mask or her belongings, only focused on the two of them.

“So you’re the Masked Wizard,” Ominis spat, tossing the mask towards her.

“Where’s Anne!?”

She sat there for a moment, contemplating her next choice of words before ultimately sighing, and giving up.

“I..don’t know.”

“What do you mean?” Sebastian hissed, stepping closer threateningly. She didn’t even flinch, just held his glare with her own, despite being below him.

“I mean I. Don’t. Know.” Penelope repeated with venom lacing her voice.

“What were you doing at her house then?” Ominis interrogated.

“Same thing as you. Looking for Anne. She hasn't responded to my recent owls, and she was supposed to meet up with me but failed to show.” She explained as her eyebrows deepened with what Sebastian imagined to be faux concern.

“Please. What does a lowly criminal like you want with my sister?” Sebastian demanded. How stupid he was not realizing how much danger Anne had been all this time. The very criminal they were after had been pen pals with his sister, even meeting up for biscuits and tea! She could’ve threatened them with Anne at any time, or worse. She could’ve taken the last person he called family away from him. Merlin, he could kill her for that.

That very thought reminded him how he still hadn’t changed from his old ways. He knew better for sure, but still had that side of him buried, always trying to claw its way back out. That vile, disgusting part of him that was fueled by emotion and arrogance. He felt he was battling it everyday.

She just sneered at his remark, yet said nothing in return. Her own hatred filled those emerald eyes. Her own darkness taking hold of her. Something oddly familiar to him.

“Does she know who you are?” Ominis appeared to be very calm, but Sebastian knew better than anyone. He was on the verge of doing something on par with Sebastian’s own mistakes. Ominis was typically the most leveled headed of the two of them, but when involving the ones he loves, he was willing to do anything. It was something that had become more apparent when…she died. It was like something changed that day in Ominis. He still had his reservations about the unforgivables but became more motivated to do what is necessary to protect his loved ones. Even if it meant doing something unforgivable. Not to mention that if Penelope was truly the Masked Wizard, Ominis and Sebastian had unfinished business.

Something shifted in Penelope’s eyes, almost hesitating on what to say, but Sebastian crouched to her level, hoping to give her the appropriate motivation.

“Answer the question, or we’ll be taking a nice trip to Azkaban.” Her expression quickly darkened in response. As if closing off immediately, her eyes turned cold, devoid of any emotion aside from anger. She wasn't glaring per se, but her body language and eyes held no warmth.

“Do that, and Anne dies.” She immediately responded, not a second's hesitation. She spoke so confidently, as if what she said wasn’t anything other than pure fact. Before Ominis could even think of interfering, Sebastian snapped his arm out towards her.

“Sebastian!” Ominis called out, but it fell on deaf ears. This bitch was threatening Anne and he wasn’t going to let it slide. He didn’t give a damn how reckless it was.

“What did you do to my sister?!” He held her by the collar, holding her close but not enough to make her fall forward. Her shirt threatened to tear under his iron grip. He had half the mind to grip her by the throat.

He shot that thought down immediately. He needed to keep some control. He felt at war with himself. He hated how he momentarily he lost control, and yet part of him couldn't care less. She was asking for it and had been threatening his twin's life. How did someone remain calm in that kind of situation?

“You always fly off the handle? I expected more from the Ministry's golden boy” She snickered viciously at him, tuanting him. Ominis stood next to him, holding his shoulder firmly but gently. Unspokely trying to calm him down like he always did, and it was working. Sebastian gripped her collar tighter before fighting off his temper and dropping her like a sack of potatoes.

Stepping back, Ominis stood between him and her. Sebastian knew it was for his safety not hers. They didn't know what she was capable of even without her wand, and he was acting like a fool. Again. Part of him was off having a pity party, while the other half was telling him to focus. Anne was the most important thing now, not him and his lack of control. Three years of training wasn’t going to go to waste. He was better than that.

“Elaborate exactly what you mean Anne will die if you go to prison?” Ominis threatened.

“Exactly that. She’s cursed.” She repeated nonchalantly.

“No. That was cured years ago by a friend of ours that you killed.” Ominis corrected. Mentioning her death by the Masked Wizard had turned his voice menacing. It was terrifying when Ominis was really mad. It wasn’t something he often turned on Sebastian, but when he did, Sebastian felt his sins crawling on his back. She, too, must have sense that since that left her faltering for a moment. An unreadable expression appeared on her face but quickly vanished, returning to its empty stare once more.

“You call her your friend?”

“Watch it.” Sebastian warned. Ominis and Sebastian didn’t talk about her, but Edith’s death was something they carried with them everywhere, every day of their lives. It was something the both of them regretted. Part of them knew that if they had just tracked her down sooner, they possibly could have prevented her death. They had so many things that needed to be said, to be answered, and they all died with her that day on the cliffside.

Penelope just let out a breathless chuckle that held no true amusement behind it. It was more of a laugh of disbelief.

“You are avoiding the subject. Anne has been cured for years, so please explain how she needs you?” Ominis steered the conversation back to Anne and away from Edith. She shot Ominis a look that could kill while locking her jaw. Sebastian wasn’t sure what the point was in keeping her secrets now. She was caught, and either way, she was going to Azkaban. The Ministry had their ways to get information, remaining silent was futile.

“Anne…was…never fully cured.” She spoke like trying to get the words out was physically a challenge for her. She didn’t even look at them as she spoke. She turned her gaze to the ground, glaring as if it had been the source of her ire. Neither of them said anything, not wanting to interrupt the woman. They waited for Penelope to continue and were rewarded for their patience.

“I…that person didn’t cure Anne, not completely,” It didn’t escape either of them how she changed her words mid sentence, “She came up with a solution, yes, but a temporary one. One that needs constant tending to. If left unattended for long periods of time, the curse will retaliate against the temporary cure, causing Anne excruciating pain enough to kill her.” She explained, not looking up her fists in the dirt.

“And why should we believe a word you say?” Sebastian spat at her. There was no way this could be true. Anne would’ve told them, told Ominis at least. Keeping a secret like this for years? Why keep something important like that secret?! It made no sense. Anne may not have trusted Sebastian but she trusted Ominis and from the looks of it even Ominis wasn’t aware of this. Peneloe had to be lying to save herself.

She took in a deep breath before sitting up and glaring back at the both of them. Ominis eyebrows deepened as her appearance began to alter. Sebastian felt his stomach drop, and all his hatred, his confusion momentarily slipped away as her once golden hair slowly turned dark. It became black as the shadows around, while a part underneath and a stripe in the front became white as the moon. Familiar faint freckles dusted her cheeks and neck. Even physically, her form changed to a slightly smaller one, as her clothes hung just a tad bagger on her. Her emerald eyes turned a bright, vicious crimson color; something very different from the color she had growing up.

Sebastian felt like he couldn’t breathe right, his chest tightening to an unbearable amount. He had to be seeing a ghost. She died. She was murdered by the Masked Wizard. It was all over the daily prophet how the junior savior of Hogwarts was murdered. They even held a memorial for her at Hogwarts to honor her. This was a lie. A sick trick.

“Sebastian..”

“This is a trick! How dare you masquerade as her!” Sebastian marched towards Penelope. Edith just rose from the ground never backing down from him. She was like a perfect replica of her, matching how much shorter she would be compared to him. Everything was perfect right down to even the way she smelled. As much as he hated it, he was close enough for the scent to hit him. It was an old familiar smell she had when they went to Hogwarts together. Something earthy and floral, while being so refreshing it could comfort anyone who smelled it. Memories of a time long since past flooded his brain. All bittersweet now.

“Deny it all you want, Sallow but this is no trick. I never died.” Her voice came out just as he remembered it. Confident, yet gentle on his ears. He easily recalled all the times that voice called his name.

Ominis immediately picked up on her voice as well. He even forced himself closer with his wand pulsing that red light, trying to pick up any image it could to confirm what he was hearing. His expression was one of disbelief and fear. He knew Ominis couldn’t bear it if this truly was a trick. He hoped for it to be true. But Sebastian refused to be hurt by her if it was a bastard scheme to lower their guard.

“Then what was all that, huh? Why go through all that trouble?!” He stepped back, not wanting to be anywhere near her. Not when she looked like that.

“I needed to get the Ministry off my back. I was already wanted for petty crimes, might as well add murder to the list.” Edith retaliated.

“A likely story, though I'd say the use of Unforgivables doesn't qualify as petty crimes.” Sebastian rolled his eyes, ticking her off even more. Good. He wanted to get under her skin. Get her to lose her temper instead and trip up in her lie.

“You would think that, Sallow.” She narrowed her eyes, hinting at something Edith would know. His own eyes narrowing yet his heart thumped in his chest. Could it possibly be…?

“How can you prove you truly are Edith?” Ominis took a step back as well, catching on, “As Sebastian said, could easily be a trick. An appearance altering charm.” The words left Ominis’s lips, yet he tried to hide his hopefulness with his cold deamnor. Sebastian could see it, though.

“Believe it or don't. But if you send me to Azakban, I mean it. Anne will die. The curse will retaliate against my magic and will attack her with years of pent-up magic. It will kill her.” Edith stressed. It was very convincing. He could see how this would be a perfect lie to get her out of Azkaban, but if the off chance she was telling the truth…he wasn’t going to risk Anne’s life.

“Prove it.”

“What? That it’ll kill Anne?!”

“No! Prove you are telling the truth, and Edith really didn’t die that day! Tell me something only Edith would know.” Sebastian demanded. If he really was going to let her go, he needed to be sure this wasn’t a trick. Ominis needed to be sure as well.

She stood there for a moment, a long moment. It was agonizingly long. Each second felt like an itch under his skin, somewhere unreachable, and it was maddening. It didn't help that her face remained expressionless, giving off no hints as to what she was thinking.

“Somewhere underneath Hogwarts is Salazar Sythrin’s scriptorium. To get to the scriptorium, an unforgivable must be performed. Ominis wouldn’t do it, and you chastised him for it. So I performed it for you.” she finally spoke, her words cold and slow. Each word had both of them holding their breath, time coming to a halt.

Their adventures to the scriptorium was something they kept between the three of them. Ominis thought it best not to advertise that place to any other student getting ideas, despite the spell book being destroyed. They didn't want some unfortunate student to end up like Ominis’s aunt Noctua.

“You said, we’d regret performing the Cruciatus curse for the rest of our lives, Onimis. But I never regretted performing it on you Sbeastian.” She held her head high as her words stabbed at him, each dealing a painful blow.

“I wanted you to feel the pain Ominis had gone through, in hopes you’d learn something. Didn’t amount to much in the end did it?” She chuckled humorlessly.

It felt like the world had just halted for the both of them, and all that was there was her. Despite how cold and heartless her words were, it was her. She was alive, and they finally found her. She was breathing, blood running through her veins, alive. Sebastian swore he could almost cry.

“Edith…?”

So I'm determined to write a fic, whether its here or somewhere else. I have plans. This is where the story starts. Its a fic thatd be from different POVs between the 3 of them and majority of it takes place 5 years after their 7th year with flashbacks. Also I don't think someone like Sebastian just changes but he is working hard everyday to be better.

(New note) this fic will be mature rating. There will eventually be smut but not for good long while. This more of a slowburn mystery dark academia romance *im new to mystery so gimme a chance*

I hope you guys enjoyed it!!! I worked really hard. May improve on it but for now enjoy (≧◡≦)

[ambitiouslyher]

TAGS REDONE.

✦ ⫽ visuals ... wears a smile like a loaded gun ✦ ⫽ study ... no one wants a half-remembered tragedy. ✦ ⫽ muse ... it will stop your breath how cruel i can be. ✦ ⫽ aes ... red compels ̗ it stains. ✦ ⫽ lookbook ... anything can be a weapon if you wear it right. ✦ ⫽ desires ... we obsess ̗ it's in our nature. ✦ ⫽ main ... my touch is lethal ̗ my touch is power. ✦ ⫽ tmau ... how it ruined you ̗ name the organs it kissed. ✦ ⫽ marvel ... tastes like every dark thought you ever had. ✦ ⫽ double agent au ... a boxing ring where fools and devils put up their fists. ✦ ⫽ sxf au ... even with a bullet through your eye ̗ play your part and say your lines. ✦ ⫽ if i let him do this to me ̗ what else will i allow ? anything anything anything ... ninajason (spllledwlne). ✦ ⫽ we make each other alive ̗ does it matter if it hurts ... ninaloid (eleutheriya). ✦ ⫽ two strangers with each other's secrets ... nina and carol (danversiism). ✦ ⫽ nina and drucilla (spllledwlne). ✦ ⫽ nina and fujiko (eleutheriya). ✦ ⫽ my heart beats in the rhythm of threes ... NJLS.

✦ ⫽ ooc … my only coherent thought was: YIKES!

[ghostgirl101]

Imagine if Paul Atreides claimed you as his destiny: PART Ⅰ of Ⅱ

|| Word Count: 1.5K || Angst → Fluff ||

A/N: I had this as a big idea that I had to get down before the basic headcanons and stuff, so here's my take on our Lisan al Gaib 😎 if you like this then hit me up for some relationship headcanons and the like, I'm up for it all. Enjoy reading or watching the movie if you haven't already - I'm going again lol, and screen X is the best way to experience it fr Also I feel like I should write a second part to this lmao, if you liked what you read?

You weren't one for dreams of destiny.

The dreams you had seemed meaningless, confusing, nothing to do with what ifs and what could. Not like his.

But you always seemed to feel some kind of atmosphere, an aura you couldn't quite shake off, even when you woke up from the darkness. There was no face to go with the voice, the voice in the dark that called to you in whispers that you didn't understand. Beautiful words that weren't yours, but sounded so soft and gentle and powerful, as they reached out to you from distant lands.

You could never place them, pin them down and study them, understand them, until the day the Emperor was challenged by a ghost of a lost House, thought to be dead, left to be forgotten. You stand near the Emperor and his guards and men, the Great Houses looming and listening from higher above, as the Fremen fill up the space to watch the confrontation in spirited anticipation.

The life debt was paid. The late Emperor was overthrown. The ascendancy of Paul Atreides rose and took from the throne to claim it.

His attention flicks from his eyes boring coldly into the Emperor's, to meet yours, his voice smooth and set, full of conviction and force.

"Our destiny is together. I'll take her."

Your eyes widen slightly as his words sink in, blinking through the shock and incredulity that rushes through you and makes your heart race in apprehension and wonder. Though his voice twins with your wandering dreams, you don't know whether to feel fascination and longing, or fear and cautiousness at some greater force beyond your understanding, playing out before your very eyes.

"I..." your voice falters in uncertainty and disbelief, and you try again. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me well," Paul responds with an undying, stoic certainty that's almost unnerving. "As I know you."

His eyes study you, his Spice-stained blue eyes bleeding into yours, scanning every freckle on your face and curve of your outfit. Assessing you, knowing you, ridiculous throngs of power filling his aura and projecting onto you with his intense stare. You have to fight not to shiver under it, ultimately failing.

"What of me?" is the wisest reply you can think of before the silence stretches into dangerous uncertainty.

"Everything," Paul says evenly, but there's no mistaking the challenge and determination in his tone, almost daring you to reject him, to disagree, a built-up desire of dreamt promises resolving his stand. "I choose you, as my Empress. We will rule together, over the Empire."

Scepticism and bewilderment washes over you and makes your blood heat and stir, retreating into silence as he takes a step closer to you, gazing at you as if you're the most curious, exotic being he's ever seen.

Desire threatens to override Paul Atreides' reason, clinging onto the hope and chance of a narrow way through to light, a light that could only be sought out with you by his side. Without you, there was nothing in sight but pools of blood replacing luscious marine life and oceans running through Arrakis, disarray and disillusion at every turn and infecting every heart.

You were absolutely perfect.

And you were already his, long before this moment, before you and he were born into the world and named. There was no manipulation needed, because everything was laid out for him to take, welcoming him to rule and grow higher and higher. Fate had bonded you and strung you along to here and now, and as you blink up into his bright eyes that narrow slightly at you, frowning softly as if you hadn't understood his demand.

"Do you know what I am?"

You pause for a moment, speaking slowly and cautiously, as the crowd of Fremen and the wary, late Emperor watch on in tense wordlessness. "You are Leto Atreides' son. Former Duke of Caladan."

"What I am," Paul repeats evenly, "not who I am." He stares at you in silence for another beat, before speaking up again. "Do you know of the Bene Gesserit?"

You stop yourself from glancing in Lady Jessica's direction just in time; the runes patterning her skin, her once soft eyes now spiked with an unfamiliar darkness of ages past. Anyone could get trapped in her watchful glare, and her son's holds almost as much intensity.

"No," you decide on hesitantly.

"Kwisatz Hederach," he adds, taking another step forward until you can feel his breath tickling your cheeks, standing above you with unspoken grace and vigor. "I see the future. A part of me is the future."

His hand is suddenly squeezing yours warmly and tightly, making you flinch slightly and glance down at them before looking back up at him.

"In this future, I am with you."

All you can do is stare at him in awe and wariness, not knowing whether to let your curiosity guide you, or distance yourself as far as possible from the boy who reigns over the dunes.

"Why?" you whisper, the crowds seeming to fade around you as you focus on the boy in front of you, his fingers tangling with yours boldly.

"I've seen it," Paul insists, his tone a touch softer in thought and wistfulness. "All of it. When I am with you..." His grip tightens over yours, the fire in his eyes returning. "We're unstoppable."

"And..." your words dry before you can speak them, and you will yourself to go on, unable to break away from the deep blue hues of his gaze. "And without?"

His jaw visibly clenches at your question, and his hand drops yours, shaking his head only answer as he glances away in slight frustration.

"You don't have the leisure of choice. It's all been made for you, written in the sands and stars, and what you need to do is walk in its path. I will show you the way. You have no other. Do you understand?"

The firmness is strong in his words and glare, making you look away from him too, still in a slight stun over the rush of events. In less than a day, your freedom has been stripped to this young man's desires and destiny, entwined with yours. You, who barely knew him until now, only familiar with his voice, his words, that echoed and rang in your head like a lullaby.

But this feels so harsh and strict. The eyes of the former Emporer linger between the two of you, and Paul's army of Fremen stand behind him attentively, some gazing at you in admiration and hope, of their messiah's promised bride. And she is beautiful.

"That's unfair."

"The future is unfair," Paul says calmly, his collected, cool tone wavering for a moment. "But it will be so much worse without you by my side, and I will not accept that. Not for my people... not for myself."

You stare at him in fascination and caution, lost for words. His fingers rise to brush against the skin of your cheek, sending tingles in their wake and making you fight back the automatic reaction, your eyes following his surprisingly gentle touch. Two fingers trace down the shape of your cheek down to your chin, tilting your head slightly upwards. Just one step closer, and your lips would be touching too.

"Name anything," he murmurs to you, the Fremen straining to hear his voice as it reaches you effortlessly, his expression earnest and determined. "Anything. And it is yours. Only if you willingly wed me in turn. Not as a concubine, nor a mistress."

You blink, then blink again, taken aback as a million thoughts and suggestions race through your mind and make your head spin for a split second. You glance at the elder Emperor, who gazes back at you and the infamous Lisan al Gaib wearily, his eyes clouded with sombreness and light spite.

"I... I don't," you shake your head, overwhelmed by an impossible choice. "I don't know..."

Paul's expression softens into a smile you haven't seen before, one that makes your cheeks flush with colour as you watch him; a gentle, amused smile that's somehow familiar and unfamiliar all at once, one meant just for you, as he disregards his surroundings.

"You will know," he replies quietly, "and I will have you, and protect you, rule with you. Love you. As I am meant to."

Paul suddenly brings you closer, pulling you into a searing kiss without warning. The exotic, earthy taste of the Spice on his tongue floods your senses and sends shudders of ecstasy and heat coursing under your skin and hushing the myriad of thoughts buzzing in your mind in an instant.

When he pulls away, all too soon, you find yourself chasing his lips before you catch yourself, and Paul gives you another soft smile, his forehead resting against yours as your eyes lock.

"And as I long to," he finishes against your lips, his words grounded with a look of protectiveness and desire that makes you instinctively relax further in his hold.

⊹⊹⊹

From beyond you both, his mother smiles slightly at the scene, a hand hovering over her rounded stomach.

The first step has been made.

══════════════⊹⊱≼ part two coming soon ≽⊰⊹══════════════

[bitchcorpse]

My sign-offs.

a —–- 💉.

m —–- 🔪.

m —–- 🎀.

m —–- 🩰.

m —–- 🍬.

r —–- 🌀.

s —–- ❔.

Sign-offs about him:

a —–- 🔥.

c —–- 🩸.

e —–- 🩻.

h —–- 🪐.

k —–- 🧪.

m —–- 🏍.

s —–- 🎩.

s —–- 💤.

[ohproserpine]

for valentine's day, i thought i'd buy a gun.

synopsis: you make your husband mad on purpose tags: fem! reader, married couple, blood&injuries, demi alastor, suggestive/steamy, just a short kinda bad drabble to break my writer's block, ooc-ish alastor, soft alastor at first, vox mentioned don't like? don't interact.

"Cher!"

Alastor greeted you with a smile, his lips curved into a charming yet slightly crooked grin that softened the rugged edges of his appearance.

Leaning against the door frame, he looked every bit the rogue hunter returning from a hunt. His once-neat attire bore tears, burns, and scratches, with both knees of his pants ripped and scuffed thin. His monocle hung loosely on his chest, the glass broken and shards glinting in the light. Tousled strands of crimson hair fell haphazardly across his forehead, framing his rugged features, while a trickle of blood from the cut on his lips dripped down his chin, staining his deathly pale skin.

"Christ!" You jolted off the hotel bed, propelled into action by concern, your heart racing with worry. You began running around, collecting towels, extra clothes, and a first aid kit in a frantic rush.

Alastor moved into the room and stood in the very center, observing your frenzied activity with an amused smirk.

Finally, with all your materials in hand, you rushed to your husband's side, your footsteps echoing against the cold carpet.

"What happened to you?" you asked, filled with concern as you assessed his injuries, your eyes scanning his form for any more signs of distress.

"Just a little scuffle on the hunt, my doe," he replied with a cheer in his tone, spinning his staff in his hand. "Came across a feisty, moronic beast. But nothing I couldn't handle."

"A scuffle?" Disbelief colored your voice as you got on your tiptoes, straining to reach up and dab at the blood on his chin with a damp towel.

Alastor grinned down at you, his eyes tracing your features with tenderness. Always such a pretty view, but seeing you so domestic and sweet for him made him begin to feel hot below the collar. Leaning down, he reached out to sweep a stray strand of hair from your eyes, his long, sharp claws grazing against your skin.

"That can wait," his voice crackled with low static as he pulled you flush against him, chest against chest. "I've missed you dearly."

“Good heavens, Alastor, you’re insatiable,” you chided him playfully with a swat, though the warmth in your tone betrayed your affection. Your fingers lightly brushed against the rough fabric of his torn shirt as you urged him to let you continue tending to his injuries. "Let me fix you up first."

Alastor's ears twitched back as he rolled his eyes at you, but his grip remained firm as he pulled you closer and closer until you were practically dragged towards the bed, falling into his lap with a gentle thud.

"Love," you began to protest, but before you could continue, he silenced you with a deep kiss pressed upon your lips, a low chuckle vibrating against your own, melting any further protest.

He drew back briefly, only to dive back in, his lips tracing a delicate path along your neck. With a familiarity born of passion, his hands roamed, each touch igniting a cascade of sensations that threatened to consume you both.

"Al," you whimpered, unable to resist the intoxicating allure of his touch. As his lips began to trail up your jawline, you found yourself melting into his arms, the tension of the earlier encounter gradually dissipating in the heat of the moment.

He let out a dark chuckle, the sound echoing in the room, as he threw off his ruined coat and loosened the tie around his neck. Gripping onto your hips with a firm hold, he all but threw you off his lap and onto the bed.

The smug bastard. He knew all too well that his affections could smooth over any trouble he found himself in.

"Alastor," you murmured, your senses cutting through the haze of desire, "We really should attend to your wounds first."

Alastor began to move towards you, his claws digging through and tearing the mattress beneath him. "In due time, my heart."

"I am serious," you insisted, ignoring the wide smile you received in return. Alastor merely hummed, a low, melodic sound, as he moved to press himself against you, encasing you in an embrace that felt simultaneously comforting and confining.

You leveled him with a glare. Gritting your teeth, you continued, "What did you even do? I know damn well you didn't get these," you gestured to the charred edges of his shirt, "from an animal."

"Well, dearest, it was from an overlord meeting. You understand how tense politics can become," Alastor countered with a laugh.

"Bushwa," you scowled, jabbing your finger into his chest. "I know a lie when I see one."

"Rather accusatory," Alastor hummed, his tone dismissive.

"Well, I apologize for worrying about my husband, who looks to be on the verge of collapse any moment now," you snapped, frustration seeping into your voice.

"So enough of this," you scolded, your expression hardening. "What did you do?"

"What was necessary," Alastor scoffed, a mirthless chuckle following.

"I'd say he deserved it. You should have seen the way he looks at you," he continued, his voice low and tinged with a hint of warning, the air around him crackling with static.

"Who?" you asked, leaning down to meet his gaze. "There are plenty of people. Plenty of looks."

"Don't act as if you don't notice that pompous television bastard hanging around the hotel nowadays," Alastor's voice crackled with dark intensity, the radio static grew stronger, prickling against your skin and nearly making his words incoherent.

So this is what it's about?

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at Alastor's jealousy, though a small part of you felt a flicker of flattery at his protectiveness.

Your husband's irritation simmered beneath the surface, evident in the subtle set of his jaw and the way his normally smug gaze turned icy. But a mischievous spark ignited within you, tempting you to push his buttons just a bit further, to dance dangerously close to the edge of his patience.

"Are you talking about Vox?" you asked with a smirk playing at your lips. Tilting your head coyly, you met Alastor's gaze with a glint of mischief in your eyes. Your voice was laced with honeyed sarcasm, dripping like molten gold from your lips.

His expression darkened at the mention, a flicker of raw anger crossing his features before he regained his composure.

"You know well who I'm talking about," Alastor's grin was uncanny, his voice carrying the same tone you'd heard the night he faced death. "Don't toy with me."

Despite the seriousness of his tone, you couldn't resist the urge to tease him further. A playful smile danced on your lips as you reached out, gripping onto his tie and pulling him closer, closing the distance between you with a pull.

“What if I found him charming?” you breathed out against his lips, your voice a tantalizing whisper as you ran your hands up the fabric of his undershirt. Your touch was featherlight, fingers smoothing down the wrinkles of his torn button-up with a teasing caress. “I might have let him have me right then and there.”

A sudden sharp pierce of a distorted screech, like a radio malfunctioning, cut through the air, shattering the moment. Claws flying up to grip your face, Alastor broke the kiss and stared down at you with glowing blood-red eyes, their intensity piercing through you. Your breath caught in your chest at the sight, your heart pounding in your ears as you were overcome by a mixture of fear and anticipation.

Alastor called out your name. It was the first time you had heard him utter it in a while. Throughout the years, he had always addressed you by endearing nicknames, leaving you half-convinced that he had forgotten your actual name.

But as the sound of fell from his lips, despite the danger, you found yourself yearning to hear it once more, to feel the weight of your name on his tongue.

"My sweet," Alastor tutted, a screech of radio feedback following him as he cupped your neck in one hand, guiding your gaze back to him. His touch was possessive, firm, and demanding, akin to the control of a puppeteer manipulating his marionette.

"Never utter such words again," he growled softly, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine. His grip tightened ever so slightly, sharpened claws a warning of the consequences should you dare to defy him. "No one else shall lay claim to you."

With a defiant tilt of your chin, you met his gaze head-on, refusing to back down in the face of his dominance. "And what if I refuse?" you challenged, your voice steady despite the fear that coiled in your belly.

Alastor's lips curled into a manic grin, his canines shining beneath the lights of the room, his grip tightening ever so slightly as he leaned in closer.

"Then you shall suffer the consequences."

[yorsgirl]

Perhaps, in another realm

Ryomen Sukuna x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: An elixir of life – you, destined solely for his consumption. Yet, in his pursuit, he forgot, he sipped away your essence, your breath of life.

Tropes: Dark romance, Historical fiction, Angst, fluff.

Warnings: implied nsfw, implied forced intimacy, forced marriage, baby-trapping, knife play, yandere themes, isolation, trauma, one-sided love implied, non-explicit violence, mild stockholm syndrome(to empathize with one's captor), misogyny, minor character death, healthily unhealthy relationship, Sukuna being a red-green flag, Sukuna has eyes for no one except his wife.

General Warnings: Heian Era, strict Japanese setting, usage of Japanese terms(glossary provided), True form!Sukuna, husband!Sukuna, wife!reader, usage of nicknames, no mentions of y/n.

Word Count: 3.7k

Glossary || Pictures

Ryomen Sukuna beholds secrets which he musn't.

Each dawn's awakening, he notes the sun's radiant dance on your irises. Marking the gentle arc of your lips, a telltale sign of mirth's embrace. By the garden's edge, he watches as the winds tousle and play with your hair curls.

With each flicker of your essence, he can't help but feel a pang of frustration at his own inability to guard his heart against the allure of your presence. Each time your unpredictability unfolds before him, he curses his own vulnerability for the arising tenderness within him.

It vexes him deeply.

Gnawing at the recesses of his, once assumed, dormant heart. Yet, now brought to life by unknown sensations – fuzzy and irksome.

An elixir of life – you. Meant to be solely consumed by him.

Your intricate curls destined to be twirled in his fingers alone. Singularly, he'd stand as the privileged observer, captivated by your brilliant elegance. Your figure draped in the resplendent folds of an opulent kimono, delicately bestowed upon you by his hands.

Thus, he embarked on the sole course he could comprehend – take you.

Splitting you away from the familiarity of a family, hearth and hamlet; for in his eyes, your fragile essence demands his safeguarding against this wicked, cruel realm.

Persuading you, that a life enfolded in his embrace had no reason for trepidation. Your purity, too immaculate to endure the harshness of existence.

Yet, persuasion faltered; your resolute heart held no inclination to remain in his grasp. Mounting a relentless siege, to break free from him and his distorted path.

"You crave peril as I assume, so be it," He conceded. "But know this: I'll be the sole peril haunting your very being."

Pressed beneath the weight of his body upon the bed, your resistance proves to be futile against his strength. Leaving you ensnared in a struggle where defiance falters in presence of his immense power.

"Isn't this what you desired? Didn't you yearn for peril?" He questions, his forefinger trailed across the delicate curve of your neck, assessing the rhythmic beat of your pulse point.

"Fear not, I shall burn the world down to literal ashes until none poses a threat to you, save for me, of course."

For danger, befalling upon you while his eyes held the witness and hands were the forebearer of pain – he'd allow. After all, he embodied peril, haunting humanity for centuries.

"My dearest," He began, twirling a blade before your defiant gaze. "I've wielded this to afflict your kin but fear not, it shall yield pure ecstacy for you."

Said so, he thrusted the timber end of the blade within your slick, delicate folds. Your screams shunned out over his malevolent laughter, fingers twisted the cotton sheets as he glided the blade in-and-out of you.

Blood dripped down his wounded hand, staining the white to red, yet his countenance held no response to pain. Gaze fixated upon your shuddering form, underneath him.

He was no stranger to the acts committed in bed. Knowledgeable of all ministrations and threads he needed to ensnared in order to make it pleasurable. Yet, you found no pleasure in this undoing.

The act of intimacy, which you envisioned to be filled with love while your lover would pepper kisses on your skin much akin to the gentle touch of spring's warmth.

That dream left shattered like shards of glass when your chastity was cruelly left to ruins under his harsh caress.

The night stretched on, your anguish unending as he remained vigilant, subjecting you to his torment.

When it ceased, he gingerly held your fragility while tears streamed down your eyes. He cradled your head in his palm, enfolding your trembling form against his chest as he murmured endearments into your parched ears.

You feebly hit on his chest, for you were seeking comfort from your captor – a sickening act.

He brought you pain and despair, yet here he was, bringing you solace in his arms. A sickening man, indeed, he was.

And with him, you were to stay.

.

You kneeled before the shrine deity.

Decked in a white shiromuku with traces of pink pattern embellishing the fabric, haori lowered just above your lips – grateful to the one who dressed you. Moisture laden lashes would've been a sight for sore eyes.

Beside you, your husband knelt. A black montsukini hakama draped around your self-proclaimed fiance and soon to be husband. Perhaps, you'd have seized the moment to admire him in such a lavish attire if he didn't commit the acts he did.

Abduction and coercion reigned heavy on your mind, the priest's chanting muffled over your loud thoughts. Your fear of the impending, palpable.

Later, you stood by his side, bedecked in jewels, unknown to you. Countless villagers and curses bowed before you but you were a foreigner to such deference.

It was his decree. For he was the King of curses and you – his consort, his queen.

.

Sukuna witnessed you gazing at the pond situated in his garden.

You gazed upon the lotus blooming at the heart of the pond, longingly. Reaching out for it, the trailing end of your garment splashed in the water – a futile attempt, too distant to grasp.

He stifled a snort on the brink of his lips as he descended into the garden, tethering on the stoned pads placed in between soil – approaching you.

"You desire that flower, wife?"

You rose swiftly, clutching the dampened hem of your attire. Refusing to meet his gaze, you brushed off the fabric, clearing away the soil.

"Apologies," You murmured. "I was just curious."

"That doesn't answer my question." He stated, an arch of his eyebrow at your frame. "Do you yearn for it?"

Standing before him, a hush lingered in the air, mere seconds passing. Fingers fidgeting, you nibbled on your inner cheek.

"Perhaps," you admitted, finally locking eyes with his feet once he takes a step forward. Bracing for the inevitable, you tightly shut your eyes.

You shouldn't have considered it. Entertaining the thought of plucking it behind his back, hoping he wouldn't notice, all the while unaware of his presence. You should have realized. Defiance in the past had met harsh retribution. This would be no exception.

"I beg–"

"Enough," He interjected.

You gritted your teeth, fists clenched tightly. This was worse. A single mistake, and you're sealed to a worse fate.

Yet, the vision never bore life.

He took your right hand, delicately clasping it within his own. Slowly, he pried open each finger, tenderly placing something within. Curiosity overrides your apprehension, and you cautiously open your eyes – finding the lotus nestled in your palm.

Your lips parted in astonishment as you gaze up at him, wonderstruck.

"Apologies should not leave your lips for trying to claim what is rightfully yours." He asserted, a ghost of an arc perched upon his lips.

"You desire something, you speak up," He waited, letting the words sink down. "Its upon me, how I'll bring it to fruition."

.

"You are to accompany master to dinner tonight," Uraume conveyed, head and eyes lowered in a humble bow.

The fusuma slid shut, signaling their departure, leaving you to your solitude once again.

Lately, companionship has been ceased from your existence. Confined to your chambers by Sukuna's decree that none other than he should share a moment with you. Save for his devoted servant and few maids he deemed worthy, who prepared you for the day.

Upon your bed, you rested, gazing into a void. Softly humming a melody, reminiscent of a distant song, echoing from the depths of your memory; harkening down the familial embrace in your ancestral village.

The day commenced to dusk, the sky donning a cloak of darkness – welcoming the night's silhouette.

Attended by chosen handmaidens, you were draped in a lavish kimono of crimson and ivory. Crushed red cherry paste graced your lips, a stroke of kohl ran along your lashlines.

You beheld your reflection, lovely; yet the joy eluded you. Unable to savor your captivating visage amidst your plight.

You were escorted to the dining hall by Uraume. As the doors parted, your captor, your husband, awaited you; seated on the head of the table. You took your place across him, evading his malevolent stare, your attention fixed solely on the delicacies presented by the servants.

"Afraid to meet my gaze, wife?" He inquired, his smirk palpable in his tone.

Still, you didn't meet his gaze, eyes fixed on your folded hands resting neatly on your lap. "I fear, I am not deserving to meet your eyes, your highness."

His sight danced upon your figure, measuring you as though you were his quarry. A chuckle escaped him as he poured the sake in his ochoko, indulging in a sip.

"Amusing, how you speak so when you are moons away from birthing my offspring, wife."

Your frame grew rigid, lips drawn tight whilst you glanced at your burgeoning womb.

Restraints couldn't bond you to him forever, he comprehended that moons past. Thus, he had to resort to unruly stratagems. Seeding you with his progeny – rendering you incapable of fleeing him.

If only, you acquiesced and remained by his side, as he craved, he wouldn't have acted thus. But your resolve left him with no alternative.

Not a matter to ponder his head upon, he would've planted his seed in you eventually. A kinship with you, his aspiration.

"I wouldn't leave you famished in such a state, wife. Begin eating." He declared, slicing a strip of meat with his chopsticks.

Eating, as if it were possible in such a condition. The satisfaction of a hearty meal has long deserted you. You didn't suspect the flavors of dishes perched before you. Furthermore, you lacked appetite.

You partook in meals solely to survive.

With adjoined palms, you offered a silent prayer to the almighty reigning above you. And so, you began.

.

Blood bathed the tatami mats of your chambers.

A severed head of a, newly appointed, handmaiden, laid near your feet. Her corpse, probably resulted into hundreds– no thousands of strips, indistinguishable.

Your stance remained rigid and motionless. Terror evident on your countenance, fragile fingertips shaking with shock and apprehension.

"Ah wife," Your husband's voice echoed in your ears. He approached you, stepping over the puddle of blood and sliced flesh.

"You weren't supposed to witness that– come," He gingerly caressed your skin, ushering you out of his chambers with a hand on your back.

"Uraume," He summoned his loyal servant, as on cue, they knelt before their master. "Have the maids tidy this mess."

With the subtle nod, Uraume pivoted around, carrying out their master's command alike a proclamation from thee almighty.

Snapping a life wasn't on his schedule today. He wished to spent it with you, hence summoning you back to your chambers.

Perhaps, a foolish handmaiden, attracted by his visage, made the decision to lure him with her appeal. Lowering her uniform to display her curve of of breast, singing praises of his brilliance to him.

Taken him to be resembling any ordinary man, giving into his desires by just any woman's revealed skin. Alas! He had no interest in any woman other than his wife.

An act of like that, only receives the treatment he'd bestow upon any mortal other than you.

Death.

.

"I must say, you look lovely, my queen." Twirling a strand of your hair, he pushed it behind your ear.

Upon the engawa of your husband's abode, you knelt, sight fixated on the swarm of fireflies illuminating the garden.

Sukuna held his stance beside you, lower two hands bearing his weight behind, the third perched upon his arched knee. He set the kiseru down with the fourth, his thumb and forefinger lifted your chin; coaxing your towards him.

"Intriguing, you are," He remarked, eyebrow arched.

"Such defiance you displayed upon our initial union, and now, you show indifference. Continuously subjecting me to such blank stares and compliance." A hint of exasperation lingered his tone.

"Isn't that what you wished for?" You retorted, a moment later.

Drawing you near, his lips brushed against yours, "Perhaps, I did do." He murmured, breath caressing your cheeks, prompting a flutter of your eyelids.

"But now, I yearn for something greater."

With that, he seized your lips in a fervent, fiery kiss. Only parting, a hair's breath away, to allow you to catch your breath.

He pivoted you gently, drawing you into his embrace. Two arms encircled your waist, one caressing your swollen belly. Third, Brushing aside your hair, you heard the tinkling of ornaments. Moments later, a chain adorned your neck, a crimson gemstone nestled between your collarbones.

"Ruby?"

"Rubies are ill-suited during pregnancy, its diamond" He corrected, whispering beside your ear, securing the clasp of the chain. "Unlike most, this one's tint sets it apart than rest."

"For what?" You questioned, assessing the gem like it were poison. Grasping it between your middle finger and thumb, the lantern lights reflected on its surface. Though small, you knew it amounted to more than your ancestral wealth.

"Do I need a reason to spoil my wife with jewels?"

A moment passed in silence, your gazed him through your peripheral vision, the next. "Perhaps not, its beautiul."

"Turn around," He commanded, you complied instinctively. Turning your body to face him.

His gaze met yours at first, second they drifted to the chain bedecked on your neck and on third, he glanced at both, at once.

The jewel's radiance evoked with you being it's wearer.

A grin cracked upon his lips, gingerly holding your cheek in his calloused hands in which you begrudgingly leaned in. With a mouth, summoned on his palm, he placed a chaste kiss on your skin.

"Just how Intriguing you are, wife."

.

Love for your son eluded you.

A splitting image of his father with the identical hair and carmine tinted eyes. You pondered if he'd grow up to be just like your husband.

At days, you couldn't muster the courage to cast your eyes upon him. His mere presence: a testament to your plight, evidence that you were no longer the woman you once were and evidence to your compliance to Sukuna's desires.

Even then, you never shied away from your duties as a mother.

Perhaps, some love existed, for he wielded your flesh and blood too.

You were rendered from ever escaping. Though half-heartedly, you didn't wish to leave your child with Sukuna even though you despised both of their existence.

In this era, nurturing a child as a sole woman was beyond grasp. For all held the thought, as a woman your sole duty was to remain by your husband's side and bear his offspring.

You couldn't return to your home either. Your father, though loved you, would never let you set foot in his abode ever again.

Reasons: You were abducted by a man, your chastity stripped off of you. You were no longer pure in any sense.

He wouldn't tarnish his family name and reputation for just a daughter.

Moreover, your matrimony with the wicked, king of curses had reached rivers far; binding you to his side forever.

Peril loomed at every turn, dangling your life by a single thread. Easily snapped by even the weakest of men. Sukuna's adversaries would leave no stone unturned to reach him, venturing as far to lay down the life of his innocent wife. Someone absolved of his transgressions.

Reluctantly, you accepted that remaining by his side was the wisest decision.

You cradled your son in your embrace, rocking him back and forth as you hummed a lullaby to put him to sleep.

Once his snores serenaded the room, you tenderly placed him upon his cot, adjacent to your own resting place. Gentle pats graced his chest, once you noted him stirring in the embrace of slumber.

"Come to bed," Your husband's voice echoed in your ears. Compliance swiped in your being, a swift rotation of your heels after you had checked your son to be far from awakening. You parted the curtains and perched upon the bed – lying beside your husband.

His arms encircled around your waist, drawing you to his chest, he inhaled your scent.

Your body tensed when his lips brushed against your nape. You dreaded the inevitable.

Six moons had passed, since he last embraced you intimately. The last two, post your son's arrival, were a blur of exhaustion. From tending to your physical strain and catering to your son's ceaseless crave of attention.

Tonight, all you longed for was to surrender yourself to slumber, wrapped in embrace of gentle linens. Alas, it seemed that wish would remain unfulfilled.

You were keenly aware of his intentions tonight – for he was but a man. Thus, you braced yourself.

You waited in anticipation, for him to act on his desires. Yet, it did not come to pass.

You cracked your eyelids open, stealing a glance at him. His carmine eyes met yours in a resolute stare, holding it with unwavering poise.

"Retire to sleep," he finally remarked, tenderly brushing aside the tendrils from your weary visage.

A year prior, during the early nights of your newly forged union, you would have taken a moment to contemplate his actions, perhaps even staying awake the entire night to discern his intentions.

Now, whether out of trust or simply exhaustion from the demands of motherhood – you found yourself slipping into a dreamless slumber without further ado.

The haunting nightmare of humanity, he was; yet, you found solace in falling asleep in his embrace.

.

His son has taken just after you.

Verily, his offspring could be likened unto a veritable likeness of himself in countenance, yet in comportment and carriage, he bespoke tales of you.

Awaking to the crack of dawn, shedding tears should companionship elude him. Taking solace in the embrace of the verdant garden, to which you oft escorted him. Even directing reproachful glances towards him, his father, whilst cradled lovingly in his paternal arms.

Beneath your eyes lay heavy shadows, hollows etched upon your cheeks, and a perpetual frown graced your lips, save for moments spent conversing with your offspring.

Sukuna escorted his sobbing kin from their chambers, affording you the much-needed respite that has eluded you of late; his offspring casted a disdainful gaze upon him.

"What? Speak up if you wish to," He queried, a playful lilt adorning his speech.

He tenderly traced his son's tender cheek with his claw, wary of leaving any mark upon his cherubic visage. His son seized his finger in both tiny hands, elevating it as though clutching a covert weapon – scrutinizing the nail and the ridges with keen interest.

His little one beamed, a gesture akin to the gentle breeze of summer, bestowed upon him by the heavens above. A giggle swift past his lips – a laughter, he assumed angel's melody wouldn't sound better.

His smile was yours – Sukuna realized. Perhaps, he hadn't completely taken after him in physical features.

Rocking his form back and forth on his arms, a tender smile danced upon his lips.

"Lower the tone, child. Your mother rests inside."

.

Sukuna couldn't help but contemplate alternative scenarios.

He sipped his sake, his gaze fixed upon your figure, leaning against the amado – your eyes lingering on the cherry blossom trees outside, in the garden.

The fragrance of spring permeated the air, imbuing a soothing atmosphere, starkly contrasting with the terror he instilled upon the village beyond the river.

At moments such as these, he can't help but ponder on the possibility of attaining a kinship with you, without resorting to unruly methods.

His thoughts rewind to the clash conversation he shared with you, mere moments past.

In your gaze, defiance ablazed, aimed straight at him.

"What's your intent? To end my life? Proceed, now. Who held you back? Proceed. Perhaps, I'd choose that fate over spending another day with you."

"Make no mistake," You pressed on. "My sentiment for you isn't love, don't deceive yourself. What festers within me is pure, unadulterated hate."

How could he let slip from memory? A curse he was, brutal and unyielding. Unwelcomed, marked with shame – The disgraceful one. How could he fail to recall? Love's realm, forever beyond the reach of his reach.

He seized you, by means unorthodox yet deemed vital. Yet, he finds himself lost in contemplation.

What if he had treaded a different path?

Would a love aglow your heart if he had courted you in a proper manner? Would you accept him in your life – a husband, a companion, a lover? Would you had willingly become his? 

For your presence brought his heart back to life; in doing so, the life and light was lost from your eyes.

Scorned by the desire to claim you as his, the thought of your own desires, feelings was pushed to the desolate corners of his mind.

In another realm, he assumes– in another realm, he might have treated you properly from the very beginning.

In another realm, you wouldn't have to have a lingering threat struck on your mind. You wouldn't fear him.

In a realm beyond, you'd stand beside him by choice, not coercion. A realm where he'd navigate every step flawlessly. A realm where, instead of vowing to set the world ablaze for you, he'd pledge to journey with you until the world's end.

Perhaps, in another realm, you'd fall in love with him like he did for you in this.

A/N: uhm uhm uhm, just typed down an idea which I had for days + I used a new format of literal english (idk how it turned out, I am so sorry if it's cringe 😭) + I fucking don't know how to end stories so bear with me.

[chibieggplant]

Accidentally Exposed

One Piece boys accidentally walking in on you getting changed

With Ace | Law | Penguin | Luffy

Female reader

Ace

The door to your cabin swung open with an audible creak, revealing a sight that instantly ignited a blush that rivalled the inferno he so effortlessly commanded. His footsteps faltered mid-stride, dark eyes widening in both surprise and embarrassment as he took in the sight of his crewmate in a state of half-dress. You were facing away from him, your back exposed save for a dangerously small towel wrapped loosely around your chest. Sunlight streamed through the porthole window, casting a halo around your damp hair and highlighting the freckles scattered like constellations across your back. Ace felt his heart pounding in his chest, a mix of surprise and unbidden desire coursing through his veins. He swallowed hard, trying to regain his composure as he shamelessly took in every tantalizing inch of your form.

At the sound of your door opening you pivot swiftly on your heels to face the intruder. “Ace!” You squealed in alarm. Unfortunately, your hasty reaction had the opposite effect of preserving modesty. The momentum sent the flimsy towel slipping precariously, coming open slightly and exposing even more of your sun-kissed skin. Granting Ace a fleeting glimpse of the enticing expanse of your body below.

Ace's eyes widened comically, his heartbeat hammering wildly in his chest, both from the shock of intrusion and the tantalizing image seared into his brain. "Shit! Y/n! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to barge in!" He stuttered, hastily turning around and slapping a large palm over his burning gaze.

The silence stretched tensely for several seconds before your muffled giggle drifted across the room. Ace peeked over his shoulder, relief flooding through him like a cool ocean breeze seeing you readjusting your towel. "It's fine, really, could have been worse," you assured him sheepishly, your cheeks tinted pink.

"Yeah... Yeah, of course." He cleared his throat awkwardly, turning fully around now that modesty was mostly restored. His devilish grin returned tenfold, however, at the prospect of teasing you about this later. "Just didn't expect our serious doctor to be hiding such lovely… assets, underneath those boring old lab coats," Ace finished smoothly, trying his best to diffuse the lingering awkwardness with his signature charm. His eyes danced teasingly, but there was no malice behind his words; only genuine appreciation for beauty caught unexpectedly.

You blushed deeper at his comment, rolling your eyes fondly nonetheless. "You're incorrigible," you muttered, but your lips curved upwards into a smile that betrayed your amusement.

Law

The door to your cabin slid open without warning, admitting a tall silhouette that paused mid-step as its occupant took in the unexpected sight before him. Law's gaze flickered across your half-dressed form of an open shirt and black underwear, taking in the delicate curves of your thighs and the smooth expanse of skin exposed by your loosened clothing. He quickly schooled his features into indifference, though a faint blush still stained his cheeks. The corners of his mouth twitched as he fought back the urge to smile at your flustered state - it wasn't every day one caught the crew's resident nurse off guard like this.

“C-captain! Sorry, I thought I locked my door,” you stammered as you scrambled to find your trousers and button up your shirt.

"My apologies," he rasped out, voice uncharacteristically low as he turned away, giving you the privacy you deserved. Despite his outward calmness, however, Law couldn't help but feel his heart rate pick up slightly at the unexpected intimacy of the moment. Your relationship had always been one of mutual respect and professionalism, yet seeing you vulnerable like this stirred something deep within him. As he stood there, listening to your hurried movements while you dressed, Law found himself struggling to maintain his customary cool demeanour. Once he heard the soft rustle of fabric cease, signalling that you were decent again, he finally allowed himself to turn back towards you - though he carefully avoided meeting your gaze directly. "Is there something you require assistance with?" You asked as Law attempted casualness, leaning against the doorframe with his hands tucked into his pockets.

You stood before him now, fully clothed in your usual white medical attire, yet Law couldn't help the heat pooling low in his abdomen at the memory of your exposed skin. He cleared his throat again, trying to dispel the unwanted arousal threatening to betray his composure further. "Ah yes, I merely wanted to discuss..." Law paused, mentally scolding himself for forgetting why he had entered in the first place. "...the shipment of medical supplies. It seems some items might be missing," he lied smoothly, inventing an excuse on the spot. Your eyes narrowed suspiciously, clearly aware of his flustered state, but didn't comment on it further. Instead, you sighed, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "Alright, let me check my inventory." Law nodded curtly, watching your retreating figure as you walked towards your desk. He mentally reprimanded himself for his lack of self-control; you were his crewmate and friend, not some tavern wench for his lewd fantasies. Yet even as he berated himself internally, Law couldn't help but steal furtive glances at the sway of your hips beneath the fabric of your uniform, reminding himself to keep it professional while he discreetly adjusted his trousers that betrayed his growing desires.

Penguin

A series of clumsy thuds preceded the abrupt entrance of Penguin. The door to your cabin swung wide open, revealing your flustered crewmate mid-stumble, his hat nearly toppling off his head. You yelped, hands instinctively covering your breasts as you spun around to face the intruder. Penguin froze in place, his bugged eyes taking in the sight before him - your half-clad form framed perfectly against the dim cabin lighting. Your discarded shirt lay forgotten on the floor, exposing a generous amount of skin.

"P-Penguin!" You squealed, cheeks burning redder than Ace's devil fruit abilities could ever manage. “Wh-what do you want?" You demanded, trying to sound stern despite your obvious embarrassment.

"I-I'm sorry! I-I thought, uh...L-law- I mean the Captain sent me!" He stammered out, his cheeks darkening in embarrassment. Quickly averting his gaze and pulling down his hat, Penguin's vision fixated on the ground below him, determined not to peek despite his body begging otherwise. He could feel his cheeks warming up with mortification as he fumbled for words to diffuse the awkward silence that followed.

Penguin continued to ramble nervously, clearly regretting his lack of thinking that led him to burst in on you during such an intimate moment. "I-I swear, I didn't mean to intrude, y/n! It's just, I uh, I didn't think!" You stifled a chuckle appreciating his attempt at a flustered apology despite your own embarrassment. "It's fine, Penguin. Just give me a minute to finish changing." You muttered, your voice strained as you scrambled to cover yourself properly. The cabin filled with a tense silence broken only by the rustling of fabric and Penguin's shallow breaths. “O-of course,” he stammered as he stumbled out of the door. His mind whirred with thoughts he shouldn't entertain about his fellow crewmate, but it was difficult when presented with such a sight. Y/n, usually so composed and professional, looked incredibly endearing in your current state of undress. Shaking his head to dispel the improper thoughts, Penguin mentally scolded himself. *Focus on your job, idiot!* His inner voice chastised him. *You're supposed to protect her dignity, not ogle at her!* Feeling slightly guilty but still unable to completely banish the enticing mental image, he waited patiently outside your door until you called out for him to enter again. He was undoubtedly going to find it challenging to look at you in the same way from now on.

Luffy

As the Straw Hat Pirate captain barged into your cabin without a second thought you barely managed to cover yourself before Luffy's curious gaze landed on your half-exposed form of you standing in your underwear. His expression morphed from surprise to pure childlike interest, his eyes sparkling with innocence as he blurted out, "Whoa y/n! Is this your new swimsuit?" Luffy's nonchalant question stood in sharp contrast to the mortification you felt, your cheeks burning crimson. Attempting to maintain some semblance of dignity, you quickly covered yourself up with a discarded robe, "Luffy! How many times have I told you to knock?" He simply grinned sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head - a gesture that never failed to make your heart flutter despite the circumstances. Unfazed by your embarrassment, Luffy continued to ogle you openly, his simple curiosity untouched by the societal norms that dictated modesty. You found herself torn between laughter and frustration at your captain's antics - typical Luffy you thought internally rolling your eyes.

Still grinning brightly despite your attempts at maintaining decorum, Luffy stepped closer, his curiosity getting the better of him. He reached out tentatively towards your partially covered shoulder, wanting to touch the intriguing material of your ''swimsuit'. Before you could protest further, Luffy’s fingers trailed your bra strap, his touch warm against your exposed skin. His voice was filled with genuine wonder when he asked again, "This must be so much cooler than regular clothes though right?"

You bit back a smile despite yourself, unable to stay mad at him for his earnest fascination. You shook your head softly, trying to hide the blush creeping up your neck. "Uh, yeah Luffy, it keeps me cooler," you mumbled, averting your gaze shyly. Luffy tilted his head, looking thoughtful for a moment before nodding enthusiastically. "Then it must be super comfortable! And it looks super cute" He beamed, giving you a genuine compliment that made your heart skip a beat.

Your captain's enthusiasm was infectious, causing you to find yourself smiling despite your earlier embarrassment. "Thanks, Luffy," you said warmly, feeling a wave of affection wash over you at his kind albeit naive words. Luffy bounced on the balls of his feet excitedly, seemingly thrilled by this newfound discovery. "Hey, maybe we should go swimming together! We could show everyone your new swimsuit!"

Your face ignited once again in a brighter shade of scarlet at Luffy's suggestion, your hand instinctively pulling the robe more securely. "Luffy! These aren't swimming clothes!" You spluttered. Luffy paused, tilting his head to the side as he processed your words. His eyes narrowed slightly before realization dawned on him. "Ohhh," he muttered comprehendingly, rubbing his chin thoughtfully as the situation clicked.

You watched as Luffy’s cheeks flushed slightly, mirroring your embarrassment as he realised. However, quickly Luffy's grin returned full force, lightening the atmosphere in the cabin instantly. “Sorry y/n, but it looked comfy enough for swimming!” He laughed lightly, causing a smile to tug at your lips. “Well, whatever it’s for,” Luffy continued, “You look great!” He added, his compliment genuine and heartwarming. You couldn’t help but laugh at his oblivion, “Thank you Luffy…now can you please get out of my room and let me finish changing?” You struggled to hold back your smile while gesturing toward your door.

[dogbites-puppylove]

Devil Sins

The Batfam and the deadly sin that colors their life, and the virtue of their darling

TW:  Yandere behavior (obsession, possessive behavior and unhealthy ideations), mention of suicide ideation and s/h as well as gore

Tags: Yandere! Batfam x reader

Bruce Wayne: Pride    

Within Gotham, it's common knowledge that when crimes wretched hands come down to slit your neck you do not clasp your hands and pray to God, no - you whisper your tears into a puddle of blood and give your reverence to hold out for Batman. It is under no exaggeration that divinity in the cursed city leaves justice to crumbled bones and puddles of teeth and tongue, and its cruel master in the form of a man with no face. It's fitting, for a city of corruption and bile. Gotham’s god is its dark knight with steel for bones and scripture of flesh, man made Godhood with flawed creation in its wake. But man has never been meant to hold godhood, the pathway of immortals too cruel and demanding, even with those who have wielded its deadly blade of eons it rips into them. Tearing at seams and breaking into them until their pieces can be glorified in the stained windows of churches.     

Batman is divinity within mortal confines. There have been prayers and hymns in his name, retribution in his name and the painful dependency of creator and creation waged on him. Batman is an entity that is nothing but iron and brimstone, unbending and unfeeling, but Bruce Wayne, the man who created this creature whose only split from being a monster is a bloodied and beaten code, is painfully human. He feels each failure weigh on him, aging him past his own casket and decaying him even as he still breathes, it cradles his head during the night and whispers the screams of those he has watched fall.

Every time Batman stands tall, Bruce can feel something small and young turn decrepit and vile in his stomach until it erupts from him like bile from the back of his throat. He thinks it must be the humanity of a son who in truth, died with his parents in that alley. It slices his open, cutting his flesh to ribbons, and gorges itself on his organs only to fill him up with something inhuman. It's with bated breath with lungs that have been clouded with smog, that he waits for Batman to finally rule Bruce Wayne unfit and strangle him entirely.   

Darling: Humility

The Darling acts as the humility to his pride, dragging him to his knees so archaically Batman shrivels in your presence. You are his humanity given form, the antithesis to his claim of being the perfect hero. You lead him by the nose, walking him on a leash so flawlessly he thinks you might have been born just to keep him grounded. Every scrape or bruise seems to repel the mission Batman strives for and replaces it with nothing, but a man stricken that he hadn’t done better. Each burn or scrape, even a paper cut drives guilt into him and brings a physical ache to his body like you had beaten him with a bat. Each mark burns the shame of a failed hero and leaves only the pathetic begs and whines of a man that can only be human. 

If he could, he would spend his days by your side, affected by the intrinsic need to provide for you, leaving you physically and mentally unable and robbed of the ability to want. It's a desire that burns molten in his chest and drips down his limbs, it burns and aches at him as if trying to rip out of his chest and lick at your hand like a depraved dog. He would do anything for you, would render the world silent, bring you a heart on a platter, violate himself so terribly he could not know anything but his adoration of your presence and yet it still feels inadequate. A simple compliment from you leaves him bereft of ambition and scorn, leaving him on his hands clasped in prayer. 

Batman may have been his creation, but Bruce Wayne is your own tool, use him to get what you want, change him for your own needs just keep him at hand. He'll be loyally and wholly (obsessively and blindly, almost rabid) yours. God bends to nobody's will, but Bruce Wayne knows down to the electrons snapping in his synapse that his place in this world is by your side, whether you point, whenever you deem fit. You’re his god, and himself nothing but a faithful follower. 

Richard Grayson: Lust

Perhaps born from watching his parents, who should have been a constant, die in front of him a painful death filled with tourists' eyes and misplaced faith, right outside of his fingers grasps Dick has an inherent need to feel. For him, want runs in his skin like a conscious, whispering what he craves, giving voice to a voracity so impossible that it turns physical. He has known denial from the start, whether it be the blood of the man who stole his parents, a want that made his tongue ache and crawled at his ribs until his bones crackled, or the sweeter craving of a relationship, something that watered at his mouth. Want is something that has haunted him, growing obsessively until it reached lust.

Though sexual desire, of course, is something that is often attributed to it, it's not the only way lust presents itself. For Dick, it appears when he closes enough to reach out and feel flesh on his own, something tangible and it shocks him like a bad dog until he reaches out to soothe his skin. It appears in the dead of night when he can feel no other warmth than his blankets, even as he arches out and reaches pathetically into the air. It is a call of pathetic loneliness, so strong that when his younger brothers are cuddled drowning within him it is to try and get rid of the sudden echo, to try and merge them into one, until he is no longer Dick Grayson, and somehow a part of them. Somewhere in between the heat of a lover and the loyalty of a son, he realizes that being a part of a couple isn’t enough.

He wants like a man starved, all instinct and need, like a child who has been ripped out of his mother’s grasp before she has fed him fully, there is always something he’s not quite satisfied with. What he truly craves is a constant, a union, melting himself, and another so they can be poured into the same mold and make something new, indistinguishable from the other. And despite the carnal behavior of his want, he knows how to get it. He smiles full of charisma, grins with the sun and serenades with the moon to get his fixes, but each one leaves him starved, stricken for more. Like a bad addiction.

Darling: Chastity    

The darling brings a chastity in his life, though not to say he wants less, but in the way a husband will fully devote himself to their wife. It’s the deceptive nature of a couple announcing a pregnancy and accidentally alluding to nights spent in bed. The darling hits a spot for him that leaves him mind numbingly euphoric, like a high that is reached after weeks and weeks of suspension. Every kiss has him feral, no better than an animal and chasing after you, every negligence has him whining by your feet, clinging to you. He grows incredibly dependent on your presence, on your touch and everything beneath. 

With you his sharp mind bleeds into instinct, and the charisma he wields to pry himself into others good graces is left uselessly at the door. It’s a delusional dreamy trance, every hug sends him tumbling down further and further until his panting against your neck and thinking of nothing but you, you, you. He can feel himself slipping into your existence, swearing he can taste the coffee you drank in the morning, and can feel every cut or bruise you get without him present. His want for you is wet, sticky and binding, threatening to pull you over until you lose your mind along with him. 

It’s almost laughable how pliant he is with you, a touch to his arm can have him following you over a cliff, a peck to the cheek and suddenly his on your lap whining for more. For all he is hard and angry, full of vigilante fights and bruised skin you wouldn’t even have to hurt him to kill him. With you, he can indulge himself fully, so much so that he wants no other. In fact any other touch leaves him lacking, so utterly entranced by you that he can no longer feel another’s skin unless it’s yours.  To him, his darling and himself cannot be separated, they won’t go down in history but their names, but by the title for lovers. Nothing to define themselves but their own love. 

Jason Todd: Wrath

Anger, to Jason, is an old friend that lives in his bones and whispers in his ears with every movement. He has used it well his entire life, a melting anger of forged iron against his father to keep him defiant, a indigent anger filled with a son's tears for his mother, the roar of inequality and social class that steals from the batmobile and the blinding and rash rush that leaves him as robin. It’s at first a soft motivation that keeps him alive, any good street rat knows, or any street rat still breathing that to stop means you’re as good as dead. He covets his rage, it's youthful and idealistic and keeps his heart beating.

Of course, after the pit (after being beaten to death in a warehouse of gasoline and gunpowder, watching his own blood relax as he’s robbed of his own, coming back ripping from his own skin and drowned in green only to find out his father-father-had left him unavenged. Left him replaced and gone) his anger has grown into something primordial. Too old to be Jason’s but so familiar he leans into it. It grows from his bones like ivy and twigs, poking out against his flesh and sewing itself under his skin so that the slightest breach sends it out to take root.  Jason’s wrath is something that threatens to leave him choking blood, and yet it keeps him alive with the threat of keeping him running forever. It is the anger of a child on the poster who has never been found, and their stomach full of worms that burrows into his own. The tears of a case under the corrupt policeman’s file, and the ghosts scream in a house empty of their future. It’s all those who have ever been a statistic (as he has been) boiling over under his skin. Because Jason knows the wrath of the dead and unavenged intimately, it burns his memories in green and leaves his chest heaving with permanent mourning of mothers whose children were robbed and never found. It threatens to scratch away from the inside of his ribs until its nails finally rip him open in a mocking autopsy and wail into Gotham’s plugged ears.

Jason's violence, his actions and words, the bullets in his guns and glare under the hood are all reactions to this. As long as the world spins, as long as humans turn a blind eye to victims, and allow the injustice of the world to mold them, he will move. All his actions are an answer, a bullet through a man's cranium, the vengeance of a young girl with a ripped dress, a severed head, the relief of a child who watches their family bleed out for powdered death. Each and every shout of Red Hood, every puddle of blood he coats the ground on proof that he is still moving. Because Jason’s wrath is old and an answer, to the boy in the warehouse, to the boy in the ground and mounted not as a son but a soldier. It’s a solution to the fear that manipulates his chest that should he stop moving he’d be buried again. 

Darling: Patience

Jason is a man of action and violence, fear turned into anger because above all he is a man cursed with empathy. With his darling the fear that curdles his insides soothes, like a mother rubbing her child’s stomach and singing a special song to keep the pain away. The world will keep moving regardless of him taking a break, and he has the blinding panic of staying in time, and yet his darling is a perfect encapsulation of time. Something preserved beautifully, a painting stuck in motion, the words on his books that are remembered through words and tongue. The tint of red becomes a pastel pink, and suddenly he’s so, so weak.

With his darling he closes his eyes without fear of waking up decaying. A sweep of your hand against his cheek will pull a sigh of pleasure from his throat suddenly free of phlegm and blood, even a harsh hit will feel divine. His darling functions as a sort of “moment” , something trapped in time and solely for Jason. Much like opening a book, the story is forever clashing but the words stay all the same, waiting for the reader. It’s with you the anger that has kept him moving for so long, washed away, like the dirt clinging to his skin under water. It's freeing and leaves him shakily bare, with you he weeps, with you he grows and stays forever yours. You are life itself, something ancient and timeless at the same time. The nostalgia of losing a tooth and excitement of a birthday party wrapped into tender song and softer skin.  

It’s a common sight to see him cry when with you, prayer in the form of tears that are just for you. He spends his days in a lovestruck haze, almost as if he’s been drugged. For Jason there is no constant, no surety but you. He would do anything to keep you perfect, safe and just as you always are. He'll care for you much like a beloved heirloom, of course he loves you with a severance that would scare most, but you are something he seeks to preserve. Nothing can hurt you, will hurt you, you’ll remain untouched until you reach out yourself. Your presence alone is enough for him to intoxicate himself with, bask in forever. But should you give I’m a sliver of your attention, allow him to enter your perfect little world? He’ll be lost forever.

Tim Drake: Gluttony

The most intimate feeling Tim knows is hunger, perhaps not for food but for anything and everything else. Obsession is his most familiar form of companionship, stuffing picture after picture of his object of affection until he can drown in them. In his house of echoing walls and emptiness he comes to emulate it. He feels hollowness in his soul, some nights he wonders if he took a knife to his own side what he would find. Would it be organs? Perhaps a heart? Or would it be the void that has eaten all that made him and left him with a constant hunger to fill himself with? For a time, he manages to satiate himself with Batman and Robin, stalking and drinking them in over and over until one day it's stolen and left him with nausea so terrible. (And Tim still remembers the rawness of his skin as he is thrashing in his room, his throat bleeding from his wails of a boy he never met)

The more he gets the more he hungers, it’s something horrific and apathetic that leads him to chasing after his own fill. Case after case solved, fact after fact filtered and sorted through, Tim is insatiable. Like a well oiled machine, the fuel that keeps him going only works to find more fuel, it's a never-ending cycle of something that can no longer be deemed as human. Half of this can be attributed to the fact that it’s all the same to him, an angelic charity to a garish murder eh takes them and feasts on them all the sometime efficiency is more of a hook then anything, pulling others in so he can feast on them, devouring their mannerisms and habits, licking up and chewing on their thoughts until there nothing left of them. 

One could blame this on the fact that the identity of “Tim Drake'' has never really been sought out, so there’s no substance to him. Something useless will obviously stay shiny, clean and unused, it's logical in all the ways it makes Tim want to throw a tantrum. It drives his mouth to salivate until he’s drooling over another function he can consume, another person he can mirror, another morsel to disappear within himself. And yet with each new meal he can only feel the void echo back louder, as if he had never eaten at all. Like a fire consuming too much wood that it withers out in anger, as if the trees that had been cut never existed in the first place. It threatens to force Tim to disappear forever.

Darling: Temperance

The temperance his darling offers is in the form of a craving rather than actual fulfillment. After just his first taste of you, Tim has been enraptured for you, nothing comes close to your unique temperament, your reactions, everything that makes you, you. You leave his mouth watering for more, nothing else can settle against his tongue the way you can, nothing can mimic the way you fill his head with static and leave him filled to the brim. He takes whatever kindness you give him and uses it as an invitation to learn more about you, an invitation to bear himself fully. Any preference you have, a favorite color or show, even general food preference will settle into Tim as if it had been his all along. Where he used to drink black coffee, has grown a taste for your favorite creamer, your playlist will be playing in the back of his head as he switches through W.E. work, it’s all you, you, you. Like a puzzle finally coming together,

Tim’s brain finally quiets down and is forced to digest. Any sort of attention you give him is a five course meal, any scorn is just as quickly devoured. You don’t quite stop the habit of obsession, but you give it direction. Tim has never known such direct want until you, a den he has no plans to stop his indulgent habits. He is ravenous for anything you toss to him, your voice, a text, an opinion, even just a little note, whatever you do stays, It’s a blessing and a curse. Because while the hunger pangs back in your presence, now nothing else can even come close to keeping him occupied.

He’ll obsess over you, crafting himself to be your perfect companion just so he can stay by your side and continue feeding. Everything in your life has a shade of him, your job, your house, your hobbies, even your electronics, each one a special situation he created to have you just a bit closer. Nothing else can come close to you, he’ll make sure you're well taken care of, all he asks in return is you.

Damian Wayne: Envy

Damian’s life is a unique contradiction. He was born the sole inheritor of a Thorne he is meant to fight for, something only he can own and yet is so unworthy he is kept from it. It forces him into a sense of jealousy, inadequacy and egregious entitlement. He could have anything he needs, but only as long as he earns it, it gives him a longing sense of feeling everything is out of his reach. That even should he hold the sword in his hands it cannot be called his. Not in the way a dog can call its food their own, and not in the way a writer can crow over their own creation. It leaves him painfully envious of others, of their right to their own possession, it leaves him vicious and poisonous. Part of the reason he squirrels away animals with so much intent, is because they’d be “His.” He’s their sole owner, and as beings with a conscience they can prove their loyalty. 

His envy leaves him with harsh words and even deadlier scars, it forces him into a fine weapon and while it’s an ideal state for an heir it’s a broken state for a child. It leaves the boy wanting, fearful and anxious. His envy is young and childish, something not allowed, and it’s something weaponized. It’s part of the reason he defends the title of robin so freckly, not only because he believes himself right, but because it’s his in way the throne cannot be. Because it’s not a legacy he’s supposed to take, it's one he steals from himself. It’s his, in a way nothing has been since he first cried from the pit.

But even then, the title of partner that so many others have worn, cannot soothe the constant ire, the lashing out that comes with fear of being replaceable, of being nothing but a role, comes with. Because Damian has been born as his mother’s son, as his father's legacy, but not as his own person. It makes Damian feel unfit, unusable in the way he has seen his mother discard students who cannot kill. It burns him, kills him and with time he thinks he might just be a husk. Damian is nothing but competency and a perfect successor, a successor will never be their own.

Darling: Kindness

Ironically the kindness that tempers his own envy is not his own but instead, actions of his own darlings. He fully gives himself to you, gives you his very purpose to do what you want with. Should you order him to kill, order him to die, or to live he would do it without complaint. Tell him you want his heart and he will pry himself open and hand it over with a smile, tell him you want his laugh, and he will laugh himself manic until you tire of it. He is a fine blade, a weapon that has seen battle far too much already, and it’s your own kindness that stops it from going to battle. In essence Damian has made himself a role right by you, but has given up his autonomy of your manipulation. You’ve become his master, his owner and his loyal weapon.

Every action is your doing, every remark is for your benefit, and by giving himself to you, he can have you in a way nobody else can claim. Every smile, every hug, every word that you speak to him is something unique from a dynamic he has hand crafted, and therefore uniquely his own. He will store you away from others, wary of letting them stain you, and even more wary of letting them steal you. You’re his, his love, his heart, his blood, his purpose on this earth, and he cannot let another’s touch deter you from this. His darling is a salve to his aches, a bandage that wraps tight enough to manage to hold him together, and his actions are that with the purpose of binding you to him. Your purpose will be each other.

Author's Note: Another reupload! Previously known as lovesick-laboratories.

[feirceangel]

How about a feyd x reader where feyd has reader watch him in the arena to gain her favor. She is impressed with him and respects his prowess. Just before a huge match what if she goes to him and leaves a hand print in paint over his heart as her token rather than a sash like the others. This fires him up/ looks super cool on his skin.

Ooh I love this!! I did my own spin on it but I hope you still enjoy! :)

Imagine | Stained (Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen)

Word Count: 1,377

Warnings: biting

Cheers rise into the polluted air on Giedi Prime, a torrent of frenzied noise which alerts you to the occurrence of yet another gladiatorial event.

You hadn't realized there would be one today. Normally, you notice the announcements and the crowds gathering to go see the festivities. You don't often join them.

Watching people fight to death. . . it's not a habit of yours.

Lately though, you've noticed how often Feyd has been mentioning his fights, never outright asking you to watch them but leaving plenty of hints.

Being from a wealthy family has its benefits, especially on a harsh place such as this. Ever since you've been here, you've tried to make the best of it and befriend as many native Harkonnens as you can.

This first, and dare you say only, friend-adjacent connection you've made has been with Feyd-Rautha.

His brother is too animalistic and angry for your liking, and the Baron is a ghastly man you do not like to interact with. Servants won't speak to you and the Mentat Piter is sickening in his sadistic tendencies.

So, to your surprise, you got to know Feyd the best out of them all.

He's brutal, yes. Menacing and violent as well.

And so alone.

Sure, he has his concubines: his pets that he plays with but soon grows bored of. And yes, he has his mockery of a family: a predatory uncle and a nasty brother.

Yet you can see past his façade of aloofness, see into his inner self. And what you see is a man forged by others into what he is now.

You see a hurting man who doesn't know anything close to true kindness.

So yes, he is wild and vicious. But there is an intelligence and cunning within those dark eyes that you have seen countless times. 

He's constantly observing, waiting for his moment to strike. He knows how to play his hand to benefit himself.

Despite his more undesirable traits, you'd dare call him a friend.

The cheering dies down as colourless fireworks burst in the air like ink stains. You watch them, casually leaning against the balcony railing.

Feyd finds you immediately, half undressed and still painted for fighting in the triangular colosseum.

"My lady," he rasps, approaching from behind slowly. "You did not watch the fights."

"It slipped my mind," you reply honestly. "Though I have no doubts you remain the champion, my lord."

His lips quirk upwards, "Naturally."

Your eyes roam over his blood splattered body, taking in the well-defined muscles which are decorated with paint. He's shirtless, how could you not stare?

He basks in your attention, cocky smirk never leaving his face. But it strains once you turn your attention away.

Feyd comes to lean against the rail beside you. You feel his eyes on you.

"You're coming to the next fight," he finally says once he realizes you're content to dwell in the silence.

You turn to face him with a smile, "Am I?"

His eyes narrow, voice quick and sharp, "Yes."

"You didn't ask."

Feyd tilts his head, "It's not a request."

"A command, my lord?"

"Yes," he repeats, leaning closer into your space. Your teasing tone is getting under his skin, you can tell. He's almost touching you now but you don't retreat.

This is the game you play.

"I suppose I can attend the next fight," you hum thoughtfully.  "Especially since you've requested it personally."

He backs away slowly and you force yourself into staying still even as you desire to chase after him. His close proximity is intoxicating.

As if he senses your inner battle, he grins and nods to you before sauntering away.

"I will put on a good show for you, my lady."

You find yourself alone, wishing he had stayed longer.

~~~

It was not mentioned again, and now you find yourself in your room preparing for the event. You dress modestly, still unaccustomed to the fashions on Giedi Prime. A black dress does nicely, with your hair loose. 

You still have plenty of time before your attendance is necessary, but you traverse to the arena despite this. The hallways are as colorless as everywhere else, a maze of black and white. 

Feyd is being dressed as you enter the room. His sharp eyes betray a smidge of surprise which he masks underneath an air of haughtiness. 

The servants attending him walk on eggshells, knowing that any wrong move could cause their demise. 

"You may be dismissed," you say, addressing the servants. 

Their eyes flicker to you with uncertainty. The servants do not move until Feyd snarls, "Do as she says!"

Instantly, they are gone. 

And it's just you and the warrior. 

You approach him slowly, picking up the paint pot that the servant abandoned. Circling him, you note how his eyes never leave you, even when he has to twist his head to keep you in his sights. 

"My lord, I hope you can forgive my impertinence, showing up here unannounced."

"Don't be coy," he narrows his eyes, "You're not sorry."

"You're right," you chuckle, swirling the paintbrush through the inky paint. "I'm not sorry to see you, especially like this." 

You rake your eyes over his flesh, barely concealed by a cloth wrapped around his waist. He is truly a fine specimen of a man. 

"May I?" You ask, stopping in front of him. 

He inclines his head. He hadn't been expecting this, since you seemed intent on avoiding the fights entirely. 

You begin by painting the smaller rectangles across his chest and then move to his back. Your brushstrokes are slow, methodic.

He anticipates each cool touch as you meticulously paint his flawless skin. He wishes it was your touch he was feeling, your hands against his skin. He craves it.

Next, you adorn his abdomen, barely concealing the excitement you feel being this close to him. As you finish, he reaches for his clothes but you stop him with a hand on his arm. 

"I'm not finished, my lord."

Intrigued, he returns his arm to his side, staring you down. 

You coat the palm of your right hand with the inky black liquid, never breaking eye contact with Feyd. He doesn't stop you as you press your hand against his warm chest, right where his heart would be. 

You start to pull away, but he is quick to grip your wrist, keeping you in place. For a second, you are concerned that you went too far. Maybe this is the day he kills you for your insolence?

Instead, he lunges forward, catching you in a hungry kiss. He bites and takes, and you surrender with ease. A sense of relief and excitement floods your senses as you kiss back just as passionately.  

"It is fitting," he says once he parts from you. 

He watches as you slowly peel your hand from his skin, leaving a perfect handprint over his heart. 

"What is?"

"That you should mark me like this," he grins to reveal blackened teeth. "You are a stain on my heart."

"How so?" You're still breathless, allured by his gravelly voice. 

"All it longs for is your touch, you vixen."

You caress his cheek, "I'm just marking what I own. And once you're declared the victor, you can come claim what's yours." 

Your words ignite a fire in him and he starts forward but you step back. 

His glare is venomous, as if you just deprived him of oxygen. 

"You have a fight to win, Feyd. Shouldn't you be preparing?"

Turning, you begin to walk away. 

A rough hand snatches your shoulder, and a hot mouth is on your neck before you can blink. He bites down harshly, drawing spots of blood. The pain is expected when dealing with a man like Feyd, but it is still surprising. 

You really have gotten under his skin. 

He releases the pressure of his teeth and drags his tongue over the wound. 

"You needed a mark too, my sweet."

You turn and press a chaste kiss to the top of his head, "Go make me proud, Feyd. I shall see you in your chambers after the fight."

He lets you leave, watching with blood stained lips. 

"As you command, so it shall be."

[please like, comment, and reblog if you enjoyed!]

[verstappen-cult]

sub!max who gets caught jacking off to readers panties 😋

content warnings ✶ disclaimers. fem!reader. jacking off. sub!max and kind of perv!max too.

You really shouldn’t be snooping. But it’s three in the morning and a strange sound coming from Max’s room caught your attention. At first, you didn’t pay any attention, but when you heard it a second time, you got out of bed. It sounded like Max was is pain.

Which led you to this. Standing in front of Max’s ajar door, his lamplight turned on and lighting up just enough to see him lying on his bed.

“Fuck,” Max moans. He moans.

You take two steps back, hand flying to your mouth to stop yourself from making any surprised sound.

Is he? He is—

When you look again, you can clearly see his hips thrusting up into his hand.

Your feel your heart thrumming in your ears, blood rushing through your body and heat pooling in your lower belly as you move closer to the door again.

Max has his cock in his hand, wrist moving painfully fast. A moan slips past his lips as he squeezes the base of it, head falling back against the pillows.

From your spot behind the door you can see how his legs tremble when he works his hand just in the right angle over his thick cock.

Max raises his free hand, a pink garment between his fingers, to his face. He literally whines as he takes it to his nose, inhaling deeply.

Your jaw drops, everything around you stills, when you hear your name falling from his mouth. You think you’ve heard him wrong, but then he starts thrusting into his hand with urgency, moaning your name over and over again.

Your can’t tear your gaze away from his contorted face and his cock slick with pre-cum leaking from the tip. And you just can’t pretend anymore, so you slip your hand in your pyjama pants, the desperate desire for release making it impossible for you to resist. The first touch of your fingers with your clit sending a jolt of electricity through your body.

Max whole body tenses up, your name followed by curse words echoing in the room. He takes the pink garment from his face to his cock, and then you see what it is. Your panties. The same panties you took off a few hours ago after your shower. The same ones left on the floor in your room.

He went into your room to get them.

A weak moan spills from your lips.

Max eyes shoot open, immediately finding yours. The shock on his face is replaced by something hungry and dark when his gaze moves down to where your hand is still moving in circles against your clit.

Max moans, loud and wanton, not breaking the eye contact as he releases rope after rope of thick cum all over his hand and lower abdomen.

Your cum-stained panties still in his hands.

do not repost, translate, plagiarise or claim any of my works as your own. | © verstappen-cult, 2024.

[fukae-flwr]

Stained Hearts & Dark Desires:

Chapter 3 Gibes and Jests

Summary: Ominis works through his emotions over Edith. He can't forgive her yet but can't bring himself to hate her. It's hard to work through

Word count: 5.3k

Warnings: angst, conflicted feelings,

Rating: MATURE 18+!!! (NO MINORS)

Chapter: 4

“Was there anything else Penny can get you, Mr.Gaunt?” Penny's cheery voice questioned. Ominis had just finished examining the room he was to call home for now. His wand could make out enough to tell this place was much bigger than he had been expecting. It was just a lovely and cozy home. The dark wood structures matched with elegant patterns gave the room a pleasant feeling. He did notice though how empty it felt. This room was physically filled with everything necessary for a guest room, yet lacked any life or presence. This room wasn’t used often.

“That’ll be all, Penny. Thank you.” Ominis shook his head. He hadn’t expected Edith to have an elf, much less be so relaxed by her company. He heard the way her voice softened drastically once Penny arrived. Even the soft breath she had released while talking to Penny was a sure sign to him of how comfortable she felt in Penny’s presence. Almost a complete contrast to how she interacted with him or Sebastian. A small part of him envied the elf, a small enough part that he could ignore.

“Well then, Penny wishes you a goodnight, Mr.Gaunt.” The elf concluded as she began to close the door.

“Goodnight to you too, Penny.” Ominis smiled softly. With the door closed, Ominis sat in his current bed and let the events of the day start to wash over him.

They found her. They actually found her. She was alive and breathing. He felt…relieved yet conflicted. She had been lying to everyone except Anne from the looks of things. She was the masked wizard they hunted for so long partially because they were fooled to believe the masked wizard had killed her. That wasn’t even including the emotions that began to rise as a result of everything that happened back in their 7th year. The swirling of powerful emotions was overwhelming. He felt happy she was alive, angry for everything she had done, betrayed for the disappearance, and among so many others. At this rate, he was going to implode in on himself.

Thankfully there was a welcomed distraction from his thoughts at his door. Walking over to the door, he found his partner standing before him. His own personal breath of relief, most of the time.

“Hey. Did you get everything you need?” Sebastian asked, stepping into the room immediately. Ominis just chuckled to himself as he just waltzed right in.

“Hello, Sebastian. Yes, please come in.”

“Great thanks.”

Ominis closed the door behind him and moved further into the room. It wasn’t a very large room, but these townhomes rarely had very spacious rooms. A single bed with a metal frame stood against the wall to the left side of the room. Right across was the wooden dresser a good distance away from the small fireplace with a fireguard. It was a cozy small room, perfect for guests.

Sebastian sat on the edge of his bed, deep in thought. Ominis could practically hear his raging mind working double time.

“I did have Penny retrieve a few of my things. Though, I didn’t want to overwork the elf, so we will need to stop by the house tomorrow.” Sebastian barely acknowledged that Ominis had said anything.

“I dread ever asking, but care to share your thoughts with me?” Ominis tried to make light of the tense atmosphere but went over Sebastian’s head.

“I hate her.”

“Do you?”

“...Yes.”

“Well, that is a perfectly reasonable response, given everything.” Ominis moved to sit next to him. He wasn’t super big on being physical with anyone on normal occasions, but he tried in his own ways with Sebastian. Sitting close enough for his shoulders and legs to come in contact with Sebastian’s was enough for now. It was what he could offer right now, and Sebastian knew that. From years of being together, Sebastian was familiar with Ominis’s small gestures of warmth.

“What about you, Ominis?”

“Do I hate her?”

“Yes.”

Ominis sat for a moment to think. Did he hate her? He was undoubtedly very angry with her, and his trust was broken for sure, but hate? He hated his family but had never really hated anyone before, aside from Hobhouse. He compared his emotions towards his family to Edith, and it was falling short.

“No. I don’t hate her.” Ominis sighed. If how he felt towards his family was directed at Edith, it lost its ire. He held no hate for her, but he was hurt by her. It was that pain she caused that made him mad and upset with her but not loathe her. He doubted he could hate her, even after everything. It was similar to how he felt about Sebastian all those years ago, after Solomon. He couldn't bring himself to hate Sebastian but couldn’t forgive him at that time either.

“Really?! After everything she’s done?” Sebastian questioned in disbelief.

“As if you have any room to speak. People do terrible things sometimes.” Ominis heard Sebastian slump in on himself.

“You don’t have to forgive her. I certainly haven’t. But we do need to work with her to find Anne.” Ominis comforted his partner. The heavy sigh Sebastian allowed to escape confirmed to Ominis how much his words helped him.

“You’re right.”

“Obviously.”

“You’re modesty is very becoming.”

“Please, modesty is for those unaware of their worth. I’m fully aware of my worth.” Ominis tsked confidently as he rose from the bed. It was uplifting to finally hear Sebastian laugh today. With how tense everything was currently, he was glad he could still get a chuckle from him.

“Perhaps along the way we can get the answers we’ve been looking for,” Ominis mentioned softly as he began to remove his coat, and vest for the night.

Sebastian didn’t respond to that, only joining him in getting comfortable as well.

~ * ~

Ominis learned two things in the night. One, the walls of this townhome were unbelievably thin. Ominis had amazing hearing, and if the walls had been thicker, things wouldn’t have sounded as clear as they did last night. Most times he could hear through walls to a degree. Often coming off much more muffled and disoriented but could still make out little things. These walls hardly did any of that. It was like he was present in the other room. Which led to the second thing he learned that night. Edith didn’t sleep.

She had her bath earlier in the evening, something abundantly clear thanks to the sounds of water he heard. He did his best to block out the sounds, feeling it was inappropriate of him to hear the water of her bath splashing around. He was a gentleman after all, and despite her transgressions, she was still an attractive young woman. After her bath, she paced around her room, constantly. He couldn’t quite make out what she was saying with how quietly she spoke but she was muttering a lot. Then at some point, she decided to rush upstairs to the third floor and move around in the room above. She was light-footed, but not enough to be silent. All night she was up there moving about, doing who knew what.

Ominis wasn’t sure what room she was in or what it was for. The two of them hadn’t been given a tour of the house yet. Penny assured them that Edith would do it today. They were only taken to their temporary rooms, though Sebastian quickly abandoned his room for Ominis’s. Not something he was complaining about, but just noted how quickly that idea went out the window.

After forcing himself to ignore her movements upstairs, Ominis could fall asleep, though not into a deep slumber. He was always acutely aware of where she was upstairs. She often moved between the two rooms upstairs, but nothing else that was noticeable. Now with the sun having risen, the light poking through the lace curtains, Ominis stretched out in bed. Sebastian started to stir awake from his movements, yawning and stretching as well.

“Did she ever go back to her room?” Sebastian slurred, half awake. Ominis wasn’t surprised he heard her as well. It wasn’t like she was trying to hide her footsteps. Sebastian may have slept better than Ominis but he wasn’t a deep sleeper when in unfamiliar places such as Edith’s home.

“I don’t think so.”

“Well, let's get up and get that tour then?” Sebastian threw the covers off and rose from the bed. Ominis couldn’t agree more. The sooner they could explore the house, the closer they’d be to finding possible answers. After getting dressed, both of the men walked down the stairs and to the kitchen. Using his wand, Ominis could get a vague image of the kitchen area.

It was a decently sized kitchen with a dark-colored metal stove. It was small enough for his wand to capture a good sense of everything around without him having to move much. Yet it was spacious enough to not give the sense it was crowded. The kitchen had a wooden island with all the kitchen items needed for prepping meals. Ominis could even make out what appeared to be an elf-sized step stool pushed up against the island. On said step stool, they found Penny, cleaning up the kitchen and using magic to prepare breakfast. She practically hummed in the kitchen with contentment. It was nice to know she was being treated kindly for her to be this happy with her life.

“Oh Good morning, gentlemen!” Penny greeted warmly. Ominis could hear the smile in her voice, “Penny is preparing breakfast now. Should be ready any moment, if you’d like to wait in the dining room.” She hopped off the step stool to throw whatever food she was prepping into the pan on the stove.

“Do you need any help?” Sebastian offered. Ominis knew Sebastian enjoyed cooking up meals. At their house, Sebastian was the chef between the two of them and his meals were quite delicious.

“Oh! Penny appreciates the offer! Thank you, Mr.Sallow!”

“Sebastian is fine.”

“Thank you, Mr.Sebastian!” Penny began to instruct Sebastian on what to do, while she prepared a separate tray.

“Is that for Edith?” Ominis pondered, wondering where she was. Had she still been in that room? He didn’t hear her ever leave nor come down from the third floor.

“Oh yes! Miss Edith often forgets meals, especially when she is busy with her research. So it’s Penny’s job to make sure Miss Edith doesn’t fall sick!” Penny spoke so casually as she snapped her fingers. Ominis could hear as the tray began to hover off the counter. He furrowed his brows at that. Research? What kind of research was she conducting so vehemently for her to continually neglect meals?

“What does she research?” Sebastian asked so casually, not missing a beat.

“Miss Edith explained it to Penny once. It was very complicated, but Penny remembers it involved a spell and…” Penny inhaled suddenly, stopping mid-sentence. Ominis turned, wondering if a silencing charm had been cast. He hadn’t heard any spell being performed but the elf had suddenly stopped and he wasn’t sure why.

“A..Are you holding your breath?” Sebastian inquired. Was she holding her breath? Ominis moved closer to see if his wand could pick up her image. The image was unique, to say the least, and much more vague than the nonliving things it depicted. His wand was much more suited for depicting structures and the environment around him rather than other people. The image he was able to barely see was a tiny elf holding both her hands to her mouth wide-eyed.

“Are…are you alright?”

“Oh yes! Penny just says things that shouldn’t be repeated. Miss Edith never gets angry but Penny knows she should practice learning when to stop talking!” Penny finally released her breath. So talking about Edith’s research was something that was not meant for others’ ears. Interesting.

“Well, Penny must bring Miss Edith’s breakfast now!” Penny quickly exited the kitchen bringing a tray. Ominis could barely call what was on it, breakfast. A pot of coffee with creamer and sugar and some toast. Not exactly a filling meal. He doubted it was something the elf had decided upon. Penny seemed like she would’ve been the one to overachieve what Edith wanted.

“So research on magic, for a spell…” Sebastian pondered aloud as he stirred whatever was in the pan.

“Any ideas?”

“Well, it's not like it's unheard of, for those who work in the ministry, that is. I even considered going to a similar field once this business with being an aurora is over.” Sebastian tapped the wooden spoon on the pan before moving the pan onto the counter. It was a discussion they had before. What they planned to do once they finished being auroras. Sebastian was leaning more toward studying magic scriptures, a job in the ministry involving his favorite thing, reading. Ominis, on the other hand, was more geared towards something a little less life-threatening than their current job as well. Perhaps he’d become a professor at Hogwarts; he wasn’t entirely sure what he wanted to do as of yet, but being aurora was not a lifetime thing. There had been only one reason they ever became auroras in the first place, and she was currently upstairs where they could easily find her.

“Dark wizards studying magic is rarely a good thing,” Ominis pointed out. For most dark wizards it was rarely a good thing, Ominis wasn’t quite sure about Edith yet. He just stood about the kitchen, thinking about what Edith could be working on as soft footsteps gave away the elf’s return. Sebastian had helped himself to the eggs and potatoes Penny had started. He even made a plate for Ominis as well.

“Miss Edith informed Penny that she would be down momentarily to give you the tour of the house.” Penny reported to them, “Penny also has another pot of coffee or tea if you’d like. Penny wasn’t sure which the gentlemen wanted so Penny made both!” Penny shuffled over to the stove, snapping her fingers to get the smaller pots to follow her. She moved over towards the dining room attached to the kitchen.

The dining room was just as roomy if not a tad smaller than the kitchen. In the center was her wooden round table, neatly set for guest use. The pots floated over to the table, and Sebastian placed the plates down in front of the seats. Ominis sat next to Sebastian as they ate their food.

“Does Edith get the Daily Prophet sent here?” Ominis questioned while he ate the eggs and potatoes graciously prepared for him by Sebastian and Penny.

“Oh, she does! Edith typically takes it up to the study. Penny remembers Miss Edith always enjoyed reading about the Ministry’s Duo. She even asks if Penny saw anything about them in the paper when Penny fetches it for her.”

Ominis couldn't help his smirk forming over the rim of his cup and heard the soft chuckle from Sebastian. How very interesting. Ominis perked a little as he heard the oh-so-subtle sound of footsteps coming down the stairs.

“Did she ever comment on the Ministry’s Duo?” Sebastian inquired curiously.

“Only how amusing it would be to watch the fools chase after the Masked Wizard,” Edith answered pointedly before the elf could say anything. Finally, she had come down from her hiding hole. Ominis could hear her move out from behind him, over to the opposite side of the table. The furthest spot from the both of them.

“And yet those very same fools caught you in the end. How amusing,” Sebastian taunted as he sat back in his chair.

“Tch. Luck is all it is.”

“Perhaps I should try my hand at the lottery then.” Ominis thought out loud.

“If you two are done, I’ll show you around the house now. I have things needing to be done today.” Edith crossed her arms impatiently. Ominis slowly placed his cup down and folded his hands in his lap, turning in her direction.

“What lovely errands do you have planned for us today, Ms.Winterald? I, for one, would like to stop by my house to grab a few more of my belongings.” Ominis remarked casually. Anything they did now involved each other, or at least one of them being with Edith. They might as well get comfortable with it starting now.

“Well since stopping by your house is not urgent, that’ll be something we do last.”

“You might as well just tell us what you’re doing today. We’ll find out eventually.” Sebastian tried to coerce Edith into telling them right now. Didn’t seem like it was working with how she immediately responded, feigning kindness with an overly sweet voice.

“Well, I guess you’ll just find out eventually.” And with that turned on her heels. Seemed like breakfast was forcefully brought to an end. Ominis just sighed as he picked up his wand and followed behind. Sebastian grumbled as he joined.

“You already saw the kitchen and dining room. The parlor is off to the side here.” She marched off toward the parlor. It was to the side of the stairs, diagonal to the kitchen. It was an average terrace living room. A darkened fireplace at the center of the furthest wall, and furniture placed around the coffee table that centered the room. A small alcove against the window, that allowed for natural light to filter into the room. A couple of shelves with books on them. Nothing much. Ominis noticed the only thing that seemed used was a fraying blanket loosely hanging off the loveseat closest to the fireplace.

“And then of course the bedrooms on the first level,” Edith continued her guided tour up the stairs. She showed them their bathroom, the smallest room they had seen in this house.

“Merlin’s beard, how does anyone fit in here?” Sebastian gawked. He was much more familiar with the hamlets near Hogwarts. They could afford to have much more space out there than homes in the cities. Though Ominis recalled never having a bathroom quite this small in his life. If he was at Gaunt’s Manor, the restrooms were about three times as big due to their wealth. It was just barely large enough for the white clawfoot tub at the very end, the toilet right next to it, and then the wooden vanity with the hand bowl on top of it next to the door.

“Considering I’m one person, easily.” Edith retorted. Closing the door, she began to tread up the stairs once more.

“Not gonna show off your room?” Sebastian quipped as they passed by her bed chambers she didn’t use last night.

“My my my. Who knew you’d grow to be quite the debauchee, Sebastian?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Sebastian hissed back, clearly irritated by her insinuation. Ominis selectively chose to keep how truthful her statement was, to a degree. Their private affairs weren’t any of her business for now.

“Hmm no thanks. My bed chambers are for an invited company only. And you're not invited.”

“Ah, so nightcaps,” Sebastian commented. Ominis couldn’t fight the grin on his face as he heard her heart lurch, and a sound similar to choking on air escaped her. She even nearly tripped over one step. Thankfully, his assistance to catch her was not needed, but he was ready nonetheless.

“That is none of your business!”

“Right.”

Edith just stomped up the rest of the stairs more feverishly. Moving his wand about, there wasn’t much to the third floor, just the two main rooms along the wall on the opposite side of the stairtop. She held open the door closest to the small window at the far end of the hallway, completely ignoring the first door.

“And finally this is the study. Everything pertaining to Anne is here.” Edith gestured towards the room. Upon entry, Ominis felt himself cringe at how utterly chaotic it was. The small room was filled with books and loose pieces of paper scattered about. It was spacious for how occupied it was currently with three grown adults standing amidst a librarian’s hell.

Ominis noticed quite a few clippings from the daily prophet regarding dark wizard activities, letters with Anne’s signature favorite wax seal, and other letters from others he didn’t immediately recognize. As the images of the room appeared in his mind, he slowly moved about, trying to avoid stepping on anything. It was proving to be almost as difficult as Sebastian’s study back home, or any room he claimed.

“And you thought I was messy, Ominis.” Sebastian broke the silence as he knelt on the ground behind him. He picked up a few letters closest to him, beginning to examine them. Ominis couldn’t tell what it was but knew they’d have plenty of time to examine every single piece of information offered to them.

“I stand by that statement. Edith must’ve picked up your nasty habits from years back.” He mused as he made his way to the desk covered in news clippings from the Daily Prophet. Holding his wand out front, he got a better image depicting how each clipping involved either him, Sebastian, or both of them. On the wall behind the desk were more clippings, not of just them, but other dark wizards as well. There was enough about the Ministry’s golden duo though to catch his attention. Penny’s words replayed in his mind. So the elf was speaking the truth, not that he ever doubted her.

“I like to think..”

“I seriously doubt that.” Ominis quipped absentmindedly.

“...of it as chaotically organized.” Sebastian finished pointedly.

“Call it whatever you'd like, it's still a mess.”

Ominis heard Edith step away to pick up a letter from the floor, attempting to hide her amusement. She thought she let out a small breathy chuckle quiet enough that they wouldn’t hear. She was wrong. It had been so long since the last time he heard her laugh. An annoyingly loud part of him wanted to hear it again, maybe get close enough to get a glimpse of that smile he had missed. He fought that part of him, reminding himself of all she had done. He couldn’t forgive her nor allow his guard to fall completely around her.

“You two haven’t changed,” Edith cleared her throat, attempting to regain her composure, “Still fighting like an old married couple per usual.” She couldn’t have been further from the truth. At this point, they were practically a married couple, without all the paperwork and so forth. They lived together, worked together, and spent almost every waking moment together. He was very happy with his life, but it wasn’t perfect. He knew what it was missing but refused to acknowledge it right now.

“I'm beginning to see a pattern with these over here. A fan, I take it?” Ominis already knew that answer thanks to Penny. Yet he found himself teasing her gently about it. He turned to her direction as the telltale sound of arms crossing flooded his ears.

“Hilarious. As I said before, I find it entertaining to watch the fools who think they could catch the Masked Wizard run around like a pack of frightened diricawls.” She spoke with a grin and condescension, clearly returning his tease. Her steps moved towards him, closer and closer, till he could feel her presence brush past him. A sensual chill ran down his spine. The wooden desk creaked as she leaned up against it to the right of him. She was very close yet still far enough to not be anywhere near brushing her arms against his.

His wand allowed him to see the folded paper she picked up and held towards him. It was a more recent print of the Daily Prophet with a bold headline reading “Ministry’s Deadly Duo”. Ominis wasn’t too much of a fan of their alleged fame in the paper. It seemed every success of theirs, as well as the occasional failures, were published for all of the wizarding world.

“The papers just can’t seem to get enough of you two. Makes staying two steps ahead quite easy.” She made no effort to hide her supercilious tone as she softly waved the paper, emphasizing her point. Another reason to hate their names in the paper as often as they were.

“And yet we still managed to catch you, didn’t we?” Sebastian derided as he rose from the ground and stalked over to Edith. Ominis stood by, delighted as the scene unfolded before him. Something about the slight back and forth between them was entertaining, despite everything else.

He watched as the paper was moved over to where the assumed Sebastian figure stood, preventing him from getting any closer to Edith. She was still very much caged between him, and the desk yet she used the paper to keep him at bay. He recalled the way she practically lept away from him last night at the base of the stairs. He heard how her heart pounded and startled so easily. Was it the physical proximity?

“Please. If my attention hadn’t been so divided due to Anne’s disappearance, you would’ve never caught me off guard. Even back then, you couldn’t beat me in a duel in the Defense Against the Dark Arts class.” She feigned confidence but her voice had a slight tremor that gave away her nervousness. It piqued Ominis’s interest in how nervous she was getting.

“Sebastian, perhaps, but I recall you having quite a difficult time against me, Edith,” Ominis reminded as he stepped closer to tower over her. He intentionally spoke with a softer voice on the off chance it might lead to something interesting. And his efforts were not in vain. He heard how rapidly her heart began to pound as he moved closer. His lowered voice just topped it all off.

“R..right…Well, I’ve improved my skills since Hogwarts.” Edith stammered momentarily as she quickly freed herself from the trapped corner she found herself in. She had moved over towards the door, putting distance between them. As much as he enjoyed how nervous she got around them, it probably was for the best. There was still much to discuss and heal from.

“As have I” Sebastian countered, taking the very same spot she had against the desk, by Ominis’s side.

“We shall see.” The way she spoke wasn’t malicious or coy. It was like she was far away, emotionally and mentally. As if she didn’t intend to find out how much they had grown since Hogwarts, similar to how she spoke that day back in their seventh year. She was far more melancholy then; now she was just devoided of emotions.

“I noticed you two seem to be sharing a room. Is something the matter with your room, Sebastian?” Edith swiftly changed the subject, what little jests they had gotten from her, were gone.

“Not particularly. Ominis and I share a room. It is of no use to me.” Sebastian informed so casually. As if two men sharing a room was a common occurrence. Ominis had no shame in his love for Sebastian, even still he felt his face flush ever so slightly with Sebastrian’s boldness.

“...I guess I can conjure another bed then?” Edith bemused. A reasonable reaction to what was just stated, though it didn’t stop Ominis’s cheeks from redding at Sebastian's immediate response.

“By all means but chances are I’ll just end up in bed with Ominis.”

“Sebastian! For Merlin’s sake do you have no decency?!” Ominis sighed, dropping the papers he had to cover his burning face. He loved the moron, he did, but he was doomed to be the death of him.

Edith remained quiet for a long time. It began to make his skin itch. Was she one of those people unaccepting of a man loving another man? He’d hate for this to be where their so-called friendship officially ends.

“You two are…courting?” Edith questioned. Ominis couldn’t quite make out the tone of her voice. It wasn’t disgusted as he feared it would be, but wasn’t exactly all accepting either. He couldn’t recognize exactly what she was feeling from her inquiry.

“Yea. Problem?” Sebastian had lost all the warmth in his voice and was back to his sharp tone. He was always quick to the defense when it came to the two of them. Ominis appreciated it most of the time, but he doubted this was one of those times when it was necessary. The Edith he remembered never cared about such things. He hoped that remained true.

“No. Just surprised is all.” Edith stated. She still sounded surprised by the revelation she just received, which was better than immediate ignorance and disgust. From what he could recall, Edith didn’t judge one by who they loved. She was a very accepting person. It was refreshing to know that remained true. Though her silence was off-putting once more. Clearing she was lost in her mind.

“I’m glad to see you two worked out your issues in my absence. I feared you’d stopped talking to each other just like 6th year all over again,” Edith sighed. Ominis remained silent. It was true without her, he probably wouldn’t have talked to Sebastian as quickly as he did. Her hand was forced for a while. She had been doing the best she could to divide what little free time she had between the two of them, practically running back and forth. She always made sure to mention how Sebastian was doing, despite him never asking. When word got out that Anne was coming back to Hogwarts, she started spending more time with Sebastian. She began to mention him more often to Ominis. He wanted to forgive him and knew eventually he would. The more he heard of him from Edith, the more he felt he needed to talk to Sebastian. Not completely forgive, but allow him to be present in his life once more.

Her disappearance in their seventh year, however, did almost break them. As ridiculous as it was, part of Ominis thought perhaps something had happened with Sebastian that had finally driven her away. Something he might’ve said or done leaving her to run away just as the school year was almost over. He blamed Sebastian for a short while, and they fought.

“Well, he stayed around so we could work through it. Didn’t take off.” Sebastian commented pointedly. Ominis could feel the room freeze over. He heard Edith's breath momentarily pause. Leave it to Sebastian to immediately point out the obvious. He wasn’t wrong, and yet Ominis felt the need to meditate ever so slightly.

“Sebastian..” Ominis warned darkly, but Edith cut him off. Her tone was empty and cold. The way she spoke was oddly familiar in a way. A way he would speak back when he was living in the Gaunt Manor. Guarded and distant so nothing could hurt him. It was a tone that gave off the feeling that nothing mattered to her. His purposely hurtful words appeared to not have hurt her, but he knew they did.

“It’s alright, Ominis. He’s not wrong.” Edith spoke so lightly as if it was amusing to her.

“Choose whoever you’d like to seek companionship in, the only thing that matters is finding Anne.” Her words returned with just as much spite and ire as Sebastian’s had. It was clear to him nothing did matter to her, nothing involving them two at least. She had her walls built and guard up.

He listened as her heels turned on the wood and moved towards the door. Ominis wasn’t sure why he began to call her name or what he would even say to her, but she quickly ended that for him by interrupting him.

“If you need anything else, Penny will assist you. I’ll be in my room.” And with a slam of the door, she was gone.

~ ♡ ~

( •̀ヮ•́) I've been so motivated to write these, like I already have the next 2 done, im just editing the fuck out of them.

Also.....HEADCANONS

Idk where the fuck i read an Ominis fic where he had like super human hearing, but I did and it has been my hc ever since soooo there you go.

Next his wand! ಠᗜಠ

my hc is that the wand can project structures and things WAY better than people. Like walls, desks, papers, couches, etc, so he doesn't trip and can move around and read well. His wand deems it more important than "seeing" people. He can get glimpses of people, but they are like super blurry unless his wand is like almost directly in front of someone's face. Colors are muted too, more so on people.

Remember, this is all for fun, so be kind. Im doing my best to keep them in character and keep it interesting. This is an Ominis x Sebastian x Mc story, and Im trying to keep it slow burn, but im rusty at fanfics, so sorry.

ANYWAYS THANKS AND LOVE YALL!!! ♡♡♡♡

[naffeclipse]

A sort of mad scientist AU where Y/N is, of course, a mad scientist. You suffer from chronic illness and you are desperate to make your experiments work but you struggle without help. You refuse to take on a human assistant out of a desire to not be treated as lesser--as if you can't conduct great, horrific experiments like the other crazed scientists. You stubbornly set yourself to work without any such succor in your tower and the days pass, wearing heavily on your soot marked hands and aching, waning body.

A solution appears right at your feet one evening while rummaging around for some material in the grimy streets (dead animals, toxic waste--the usual to carry out unethical tests) and discover two abandon animatronics in the back alley, left to rot and turn to rust. There's close to zilch hope for the two but you're not a mad scientist for no reason. You drag the endoskeletons home before prompting collapsing for a day or two after overextending yourself and paying the price.

Once you get your strength back (and cursing your weakness) you turn all your effort to cleaning and preparing the endoskeletons. The celestial model of the animatronics would be helpful in your work, no? One after the solar ball of gas which beams heat and light onto the world and the other after the gray rock which brightens the night and tugs on the tides. Sun and Moon. You solder wires and revamp the servos. You hold and handle the limbs and heads of the animatronics as if they were sleeping. Soon, they will wake.

There's just one problem. They need a spark. Not a bit of ember from fire or the first crack of electricity from a splitting fork of lightning. A spark of life. And you contain such material within yourself. It's dangerous to lord over life and play god, but you need them.

The night storms when you prepare the animatronics with their chassis open, lying down on tables. You are steady despite the buzz in your veins in the face of the most dangerous experiment you have conducted yet. With these two are your side, there will be many to come. You spill your blood, split away two pieces of your pulsing core, and set two tiny sparks of life from your beating heart into the animatronics. Your head spins with pain and hope. The hum of servos whirling to life touches your eardrums. A great rumble of thunder shakes the tower. Your vision is slowly swallowed by darkness as you start to collapse but before you fall, two glowing pairs of eyes open.

When you wake, you're in your bed, in the dark, and your chest is bandaged. You hardly have the strength to touch the blood-stains soaking into the gauze but a silver and blue hand stops you. Red eyes pierce you at your bedside, a dark personage holding your wrist. Standing on the other end of your bed is a tall figure with ghostly pale optics falling over you. Dread fills your marrow at what exactly you brought back from death. A raspy voice raises a question. Who are you?

The animatronics. They're alive. They want answers, and you are more than willing to supply them. You give a very detailed, breathy response about how this all came to be, and when you propose that they become your assistants in your endeavors, they silently share a glance and nod in unison.

Though you fear you got off to a rough start with them putting you into bed after making sure your heart was still beating, they prove to be everything you want—and more. They have no desire to return to whoever tossed them to the street and left them as scrap metal, and you finally have extra hands to hold together metal contraptions and nimble fingers to set the exact scalpel blade size you need in your hand when cutting into a carcass.

They do not infantilize you in your sickness, much to your aching relief. Sun, however, is poignant in reminding you that pushing yourself past your energy capability, such as walking into town and dragging back a metallic frame for a killing contraption, will result in you needing a day of recovery. Moon sharply remarks that willingly subjecting yourself to an overnight of experimenting with beating hearts and lightning strikes will most likely cause a pain flare, but they never stop you. They never decide for you. They see you—not the unending illness clawing at your edges and leaving its marks on your flesh.

Though you learn to manage yourself better—for science, of course. You request Sun's assistance for lifting heavy plates into place before you bolt and screw them down. He's all too cheerful to lend a hand. When it grows late, you allow Moon to lead you to bed before the fire in your muscles becomes a roaring inferno. He tells you softly that he's been recording the number of good and bad days you have, and that your flare-ups don't appear as often when you have a full night's rest. Your assistants are pleased—with the improvement in your experiments, of course.

It's rare, but sometimes you'll catch an odd sentence or two from Sun about where they were before, and how much nicer it is here. You give them much. You don't shout or throw things at them. He lays a hand over his chassis and smiles. Moon will look at you sometimes, and when you ask why he's staring, he says that you have never raised a hand to them. It's strange. He thought all mad scientists were the same. He's glad to be wrong.

You're glad they're with you too. Your science has never been madder and you don't lay through bad days alone anymore. You don't like talking about your chronic illness. The discussions you've had in the past with peers and professors revolved around how you're handling it and what it's doing to you today. Can you still do your work? It's not mad or experimental or new—it's just sad. Other people think you're sad and pitiful, and you would rather die trying to conduct a hazardous experiment than ever stop to tend to yourself.

Sun and Moon learn to take your mutters and curses in stride when another flare-up hits. They ask questions occasionally, wondering how long you've lived with this and if it would ever be cured but they seem to already suspect the answer. Sure, you've tried several times to manufacture an antidote to whatever poison sits in your veins, but such endeavors have only ended with you waking up, lying in your own vomit. They don't give you pity, not like the others have. No, Sun holds your hand between his large digits and asks if you've eaten anything yet. Moon touches your shoulder when you stare out of the circular window in your tower and asks if he can walk you to your bed.

They need you, and they know what great work you're doing here, crafting weapons of mass destruction, simmering glowing liquids, and putting together new creations—not like them, no. Nothing compares to your assistants.

[yandere-sins]

You know how, irl, people get fascinated and turned on by the IDEA Of a yandere? And how a yandere, ofc, stalks and learns as much as they can about their darling? I just imagine the Yandere using that to their advantage and to their Darling's horror. "Oh, but you like this don't you? You've read so many smutty tumblr stories about being taken and taken and held hostage. You reblogged so many headcanons about a character killing your bully or that co-worker you hate. I know all your questionable porn tastes. I know all your deep, dark secrets. I know your violent vent posts that I got to enact for you, Darling! I've given you everything you've ever fantasized about, so of course you'll love me. <3" And of course, the yandere fails to realize that any of those behaviors or actions in real life is absolutely, gut-wrenchingly horrifying. But they think they're giving their darling everything they could ever want, and they'll continue to do so until they stop playing hard to get.

Ngl, probably one of my worst fears for the future, but thanks for requesting because it makes good yandere content :'D

I'm imagining a really smug yandere, you know? One that thinks they are doing you such a big favor and give you all their love by expressing it this way. But in reality, they don't even realize how messed up it is.

They were just breaking into your home after you went to bed to admire their darling from afar for a little bit. They are not daring to stir you from your sleep when they can stand beside you and watch. It is enough; they won't be greedy. But they couldn't have known they'd find the holy grail of smut and depravity on your bookshelf when they started browsing as their curiosity got the better of them. They are almost appalled by their darling, if not for the fact that when they browse through the pages of a random book, the words kidnapping, stalking, love, murder, and quite a few more seem like a temptation made for them especially.

So, you actually like that kind of stuff, huh?

Someone following you on a dark street, their steps noticeable but their face masked as they are always just five steps behind you. You run, they run. There's a red rose on your windowsill the next day. It scares you, but they know now that you are just pretending. That your heart is beating faster now, elated by the chase and the promise of love it brings. The fact that you have your own mad person excites you. The yan continues to borrow one book after the other, annotates them, and takes notes for themselves before putting them back onto your shelf for you to find one day, horrified to see lots of "I'd love to do this to you," "How about I kill the coworker you hate—would that make you love me?" and "Love this, love you, always you" in them.

They thought being a silent observer, loving you from afar, was the way to be with you. But they can't help but masturbate to the sex scenes, thinking about how they'd reenact them with you. Your books will be devastatingly ruined by stains and tears in the pages as they have either ripped out a scene to save for later or bit into the book as they've hit their orgasm. Your bookshelf was a collection of dark romance before, but now it is literally the remnant of a massacre of the once neat collection.

But of course, they won't stop there.

Everyone gets sick of reading books someday, even though it's been nice doing it sitting next to you—part of the yan hoping you might wake up and they get to act out some of the scenes you read about. However, there are more things to uncover and learn from. Your public social media they've stalked so far was nice and dandy, but the favorites and posts you hide on your private computer have so much potential to learn from.

The yan can learn about all these little desires of yours. The masks you like, how you want to be taken, cared for, and loved forever. You seem to believe in soulmates—crazy! They do, too! If the yan is delusional enough, it turns out that you two are so similar to each other—a perfect match. Even the kinks they didn't share with you before can be arranged with enough dedication to you. They'll make preparations so you'll be able to ease into these depraved things that you kept hidden from them. You might have been afraid to act on your desires, but the yan is ready to let you live them out to the fullest.

Never mind that you cry after being chased home, it's what you wanted, right? It doesn't matter how you actually feel when they harass and stalk you, leave you little notes and flowers everywhere, because they are just doing what your book-partners would do (it worked for them, after all). You wanted the yan to be possessive over you; why are you sad that no one wants to be your friend when the yan went to the trouble of making sure everyone would be too scared to approach you? And really, aren't you grateful for the yan taking care of your coworker problem? Was sending you their pinky not enough proof of their love?

How come you don't love them yet? When will you love them like the protagonists of your books?

Haven't they done enough? Are you seriously saying you don't like their gifts and dedication to you? Or perhaps you are just trying to play hard to get... of course! That must be it. You are so lovely; you must know that you deserve to be desired immensely. Only they can desire you as much as to go to such lengths, but perhaps it hasn't been enough yet. You deserve more. You are waiting for the yan to prove their undying, absolute love for you. It must be something big, something extraordinary. Something that will show you just how much they care about your interests and especially you.

They will take you and give you the life you want—you deserve.

Even if you hate them for it.

[hynzsn]

★ BIG HANDS, BIGGER PLEASURE ★

☆ dokyeom x male reader 18+ MDNI

꩜ .ᐟ smut

contents: established relationship, anal fingering, jerking off, self pleasure, masturbation, kissing, light teasing, ejaculation, cum eating, pet names (baby, babe), dirty talk, whimpering, moaning, crying (in pleasure), thigh kisses, size difference, hand size difference, being caught pleasing yourself

wc: 1k

summary: dokyeom comes home only to find you fingering yourself. but by the looks of it, you’re struggling, and he’s more than eager to offer a helping hand. 

♡︎♡︎♡︎ likes, comments and reblogs are highly appreciated ♡︎♡︎♡︎

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

you glanced at your phone, checking the time once more. dokyeom should be home soon, but the thrum of desire coursing through your veins is relentless, almost unbearable. the dim ambiance of your shared apartment is lit only by the soft glow of the setting sun. every tick of the clock, echoing the ache building inside of you. 

you bite your lip, reaching into your pants; your small fingers are already slick with lube, but they don’t reach the spots you need them to. frustration bubbles up, mingling with the heat pooling in your abdomen. 

with a shuddering breath, you slide your shorts and boxers down, spreading your legs wide as you sink back into the plush cushions of the couch. your fingers tease your asshole before you slowly try to insert one. a whimper escapes your lips as you press in further, trying to stimulate yourself and find that familiar sweet relief that only dokyeom seems to give you. but it’s not enough. it’s never enough. 

just as you’re about to give up, the front door creaks open. your heart skips a beat, eyes widening as dokyeom steps inside, his broad frame silhouetted against the hallway light. his eyes lock onto yours, darkening with an intensity that only sends cold shivers down your spine. 

“fuck, babe,” he murmurs, dropping his bag to the floor. his voice is rough with desire, and it only turns you on more. 

"couldn't you wait for me, huh? feeling empty without me?” 

you nod, your voice barely a whisper. “i couldn’t... couldn’t help it.” you stammer out, your fingers still probing your hole to the best of your ability.

“It’s not working, dk... need you…”

a slow, predatory grin spreads across his face as he strides over. his ego seems to be bouncing off the walls with the way you seem to be struggling without him.

“my poor baby. your small fingers just don’t cut it, do they?” he sheds his jacket, rolling up his sleeves to reveal his strong, capable hands.

dokyeom kneels between your spread legs, his big hands gently prying yours away. “move; let me take care of you, baby,” he murmurs, his voice a velvety promise. 

his fingers, so much larger and stronger than yours, slide against your slick hole, teasing you with a feather-light touch that only makes you gasp. slowly, he glides one finger into you. the difference that one finger feels compared to your small fingers wasn’t hard to see as you arch your back off the couch, a strangled moan escaping your lips. his long fingers are stretching you in ways yours never could and never will. you clutch at his shoulders, overwhelmed by the intensity of it all.

“fuck, you’re so tight, baby,” he muttered, his voice a low whisper as he watched his finger disappear inside you. “you’re so damn responsive. so perfect.”

“fuck… so good…  It feels so good,” you choke out, your voice trembling. 

he chucked softly, his other hand stroking your thigh soothingly. “yeah? let me make you feel even better, baby.” 

he adds another finger, scissoring them gently as he watches you with dark, hungry eyes. he leans in to place soft and tender kisses on the inside of your thigh, his tongue leaving little wet stains as he continues to finger your hole. 

the pleasure is almost too much, and you can feel the tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. dokyeom’s fingers curl, finding your prostate, the spot that makes your vision blur and your breath hitch. you cry out, your body trembling. 

you couldn’t form words and couldn’t do anything but feel as he added a third finger, stretching you even further.

“mmm… you’re clenching around my fingers,” he purred, his free hand that was on your thigh now coming to stroke your already hardened cock slowly. “such a greedy boy, taking three of my fingers inside of you.” his thumb rubs over the head of your cock, collecting the bead of pre-cum leaking out. he brought his thumb to his lips, tasting you eagerly and letting out a satisfied hum. 

his words were sending you over the edge. fuck him and his husky voice; it only turned you on even more.

feeling waves of ecstasy crash over you, you cry out again, your body arching off the couch as you cum into dokyeom’s big hand. he continues to both stroke and finger you through your release, his movements gentle and loving as you ride out your high. 

“such a good boy,” he praised, feeling your sticky semen coat his palm and his fingers. “giving me such a nice treat after a long day at work.”

you slump back onto the couch, completely spent and satisfied, a soft whine escaping your lips. 

dokyeom chuckles, slowly withdrawing all three of his fingers from inside of you and his hand away from your limp cock. with a casual movement, he brought his hands up to his lips, sucking his fingers clean, his tongue eagerly darting out to lick up the remains of your essence. 

“that’s what you needed, baby? my big hands taking care of you?” he couldn’t help but smirk at you. 

you nod, your eyes fluttering open to meet his gaze. his eyes were dark but had an aura of passion to them. 

“yeah,” you breathe out, your voice laced with satisfaction. “that was… wow.”

dokyeom hummed in agreement, his eyes sparkling with pride and affection. “you know I got you, baby. anything you need, i’m the man.” he leans down to capture your lips in a soft kiss, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. 

"i love you, baby,” he murmurs against your lips before pulling away. 

"i love you too,” you mumbled.

“now, how about we take a shower together, and then we can order some dinner? i’m starved. been waiting to eat with you all day; food doesn’t taste the same without you.”

you couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh as you pulled him down for another kiss. 

"sounds like a plan.”

[divinesolas]

Sneaking around | 2

Summary: You had thought you finally managed to repair things between you and jacaerys but he seems to have begun avoiding you again and you begin to think the worst, as your wedding approaches you decide to confront him once more.

w.c: 1.9k

c.w: porn with (minor) plot, oral (m!receiving), p in v, jacaerys is a big idiot again, two idiots in love, misunderstandings, not proofread

a.n: part one for context ! hope you guys enjoy <3

dedicated to my lovelie mootie @aegonswife <3

in the beginning you had though you were imagining things. maybe you were just so busy with wedding prep and were so busy and were just making it up. but after two weeks you had realized that it was true. jacaerys was once again dodging you at all costs.

it was not as drastic as it used to be but you can still tell. he says hello to you but quickly makes up some excuse to be excused, he will sit next to you during dinner but will engage in conversation with anyone but you. at first you didn't notice since you and your mother had begin to prepare for the wedding, it started to dawn on you when your mother expressed that she was meeting with jacaerys at a different time other than you for wedding prep.

“he does not wish to join us now?” she could hear the frustration in your voice and sighs rubbing her forehead, “he says it would be easier to meet apart as this is when he likes to train, i had told him we could move the time but-” “he does not wish to see me.” you look down at the ground in frustration and you hear your mother sigh as she walks closer to you and places her hands on your face gently lifting you up to look at her, “he is just scared my dear i know it, you should just ask him.” “but how am i to ask if he avoids me?”

“how did you get him to talk to you last time?”

it is once again dead in the night as you wrap yourself in a familiar cloak and quietly leave you room and head back down the familiar path to his room. you are not as scared as you had been last time. you don't march with a sense of desire in your steps, instead you are angry. you knock on his door harshly this time not caring for making too much noise.

the door opens to a shocked jacaerys who looks at you alarmed, “sister did you need something,,,” his words trail off as you push past him into his room and cross your arms staring daggers at him. “you are ignoring me.”

he pauses for a moment, fiddling around with the quill in his hand. despite your anger your eyes linger down to admire him and notice the spots of dark ink stained into the long flowy white shirt he was wearing. your eyes drift towards his desk where he must have been just sitting at littered with papers, some crumpled and some full but your eyes couldn't make out what they say. he clearly notices where you’re looking and swiftly moves to stand in front of the desk blocking the letters from your view. “i have been busy-” “but you do not wish to plan our wedding with me?” “that is when i train dear sister,” “ah yes mother mentioned that, and she also mentioned that she suggested to switch the meetings to a different time and you said no.” he looks down in defeat and you scoff at his lack of response.

“i had thought you were better than most men but it seems once you had me you want nothing to do with me.” you turn around and wrap your arms around yourself as you finally let your tears of frustration run down your face.

some beats of silence pass with the only sounds being your sniffling, for a moment you even fear he’s left the room but you soon feel his hands wrap around you and his head presses into your shoulder. “sorry is not enough, begging for your forgiveness is not enough it is all my fault, but you must understand there is no universe in which i want nothing to do with you my heart you mean more to me than anything.”

you press your head against his and you feel his arms grow tighter around you reveling in his touch. “i just wish to understand you.” he presses a kiss into your neck and sighs, “i have been nothing but a fool, out of my own tasteless fear i have once again drove an unnecessary wedge between you and i.” you manage to twist yourself in his grasp to look at him, “fear?” he hums cupping your face in his hands and presses his forehead against yours, “i feared that should i spend too much time with you, i would lose my self.” you pull away and give him a confused look, “whatever are you talking about?” a bright red flush covers his face as he turns away from you before he speaks, “i desire you far too greatly that i fear i cannot control myself around you.”

Ah.

An embarrassed heat flushes you as you take notice of him poking against you and you push your head into his neck, “Jace,,” “it is because i am so weak minded i cannot even act like a proper gentleman-” “Jace,,,” “i am sorry i should grovel at your feet and punish myself-” “jacaerys!” you pull away from him and shake his shoulders lightly and he looks at you alarmed. you have a smile on your face and let out a light laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation cupping his cheeks and pulling him close and give him a peck. “i am just happy my future husband desires me.”

The look in his eye completely changes when he hears you call him husband and his hands quickly move to the back of your head to bring you into a heated kiss. due to the very sudden action you gasp and he uses that opportunity to push his tongue in your move and pull you even closer to him. your hands grip the back of his head and tug on his hair to pull him away from you, his dark eyes stared at you laced with desire and need.

“Allow me to please you this time husband.” he groans as you drop down to your knees and begin to work through unlacing his pants, “you do not have to-” “i want to.” his pants hit the floor with a light thud and you grip him in your hands and press kisses up and down him. he throws his head back and lets out a strained moan as he grips your head. “my love,,” you lick and suck at his bright pink tip as he continues to wither above you. for a moment you think about the irony of it all, a future king, your future king, completely bewitched by you at your complete mercy, “please do not tease me my love.”

your inexperience shows its head as you try you best to put him all in your throat but are unable to left to simply stroke anything left. he definitely doesn’t mind as his knees almost buckle and the grip on your head grows tighter, he is a very vocal man endless praise falls easily from his lips occasionally getting chocked up by his own moans and groans. “i love you, how are you so good at this?” you let go of him with a pop and give him a smile, “i guess i just imagined this far too often as one would say.” he if realizes your mirroring his own words he does not say as much, well he doesn’t say much of anything completely lost in his own pleasure.

You too also get lost in your own pleasure. you can feel your own wetness soaking your thighs, if your hands were not stuck on him you would have brought them down to begin to play with yourself. He suddenly pulls you off him and drops to his knees, “did i do something wrong?” he quickly shakes his head and kisses you. “i simply have somewhere else i wish to spend my seed.”

he leans you on your back and hovers above you his hands eagerly pulling up your night gown leaving you exposed to him. “i would take my time with you my love but i fear i have lost all sense of control to you.” he rubs his dick against your folds soaking himself in your wetness and you push your head into his neck gripping his arms, “please please husband.”

He quickly pushes himself into you and groans in your ear, “gods you’re so amazing my love.” unlike the first time where he had started out rather slow he seems to be desperate today quickly rutting himself against you. You certainly have no reason to complain and let him have his way with you. it was odd to see the usually very composed prince seem to lose all sense of composure, acting not of a prince but like an animal, if anybody were to walk in on the two of you now it would certainly be a show.

“tell me you are close my love please.” you nod your head and he brings his hand down to play with your clit, “please please come my beautiful wife and i will spend myself in you please.” he quickly manages to bring you to your release, shaking and bringing your hands to his head and kissing him as he comes inside you.

the two of you stay still for awhile the only sounds in the room being your pants and his heaving. he slides out of you and you let out a hiss he follows with a quiet apology and lefts you up bridal style and carries you to the bed lightly placing you down before he moves to take the place next to you.

for awhile no words are exchanged between you, you lay your head on his chest playing with the fabric while you cannot seem to drop the smile from you face. he makes you so happy you can barely believe you had been mad at him in the first place. you look back at his desk and remember all the letters on it. “jacaerys?” he softly hums in acknowledgement, his hand lightly tracing your back. “what are those letters on your desk?” he freezes and brings his other hand up to his mouth to let out an embarrassed cough, you can feel the skin you’re laying on heat up. “they are vows i plan to make to you during our wedding, i am struggling a bit,,” he trails off embarrassed and you sit up to look at him, “vows?”

he scratches his neck as he gives you a strained smile, “i wish to express my love to you with words but i am struggling to put them on paper for i love you too greatly.” your heart swells and you lean down to give him a peck not pulling too far away from him before you speak. “i love it.” “you do not even know what it says.”

“i love anything you make, because i love you.”

[thehighladywrites]

need you so bad baby, please...

⋆⭒˚｡‎♡‧₊˚ PAIRING: Azriel x fem!reader, wc: 2,9k , Inner circle mentioned

⋆⭒˚｡‎♡‧₊˚ SUMMARY: brattaming, mentions of pregnancy, breeding, fingering, creampies, praise, daddy kink, a hint of degradation, mentions of ovulation, oral ( f. receiving ), edging, admiring Azriel ( me fr ), just some nasty smut and some fluff thrown in there 😈

⋆⭒˚｡‎♡‧₊˚ AUTHOR'S NOTE: i was so hesitant to post this, omg, is this a cry for help? i’ll just go sit in the corner and cry🥲

Sweet, heavenly mother.

He was looking absolutely delectable. Fuck, it was kind off pissing you off. Like, who looks that good whilst sleeping.

You had woken up all warm with an ache between your thighs, knowing, if you took of your panties, there would be a big, fat, damp stain there. You turned your head to the side, as you admired your handsome, beautiful mate. Whenever Azriel was asleep, his beauty took on a serene and peaceful quality. His features, often intense and striking while awake, appeared softer and more relaxed. His dark hair was slightly tousled and hung over his eyes. His long, dark eyelashes rested gently on his cheeks. Even in slumber, his overall ability to look that attractive and stunning was wild.

You carefully inched closer to him, pondering over how grateful and content you were that he trusted you enough to sleep next to you without having his guard up. Azriel had previously voiced that he had never trusted anyone enough to truly sleep next to them completely relaxed. He was always alert in some way.

But never with you. Never his love, his mate, his heart.

The thought itself was enough to make your eyes burn slightly with a wave of fresh tears. Gods he trusted and loved you so much. As did you.

You were hit by this feeling, this instinct to be as close to him as possible. You slid under his blanket and put your head on his pillow, being so close to him that you were sharing the same breath.

You lifted your fingers to trail his cheekbones, jaw, lips, nose.

Gods, this male. Your love. Your mate. Your heart.

“ You’re staring at me, angel.” Of course he’d be aware, despite his eyes being closed. The corners of his mouth lifted as he slowly opened his eyes, gazing right back at you with heavenly hazel eyes.

“ I’m not staring, love. I’m simply admiring the view.” You smiled back at him as you lifted the covers ever so slightly, allowing you enough room to sit on his hard abs. He immediately brought his warm hands to the backs of your thighs, running his rough fingers over the soft skin as he supported your weight . You rested your hands on his bare chest as you leaned forward and gave him a kiss on his lips. You angled your head to further deepen the kiss, nails digging into his chest as his hands moved up to your hips, giving them a slight squeeze.

You wanted more. You needed more.

You found it impossible to ignore the desire for your husband's intimate caresses, wanting hungrier kisses and firmer grips. Being turned on by your mate was a common feeling, but today, your attraction to him felt stronger than ever. It's as if...

You felt your body temperature rise as that syrupy feeling between your thighs had come back, making you realize what was going on.

The emotional rollercoaster. Doorknob snagged your shirt? Annoyed. Makeup malfunction? Furious. Favorite shirt in the laundry? Pure rage. The neediness and urge to be close to your mate?

You were ovulating.

Of course you were. Fae ovulations were no joke. They lasted longer than human ones and were twice as effective. The last time, Azriel nearly successfully got you pregnant. Not that you were complaining, you really wanted kids with Azriel, as you and him were the only ones without any babes yet.

“Sweetheart, are you alright?” You hadn’t noticed that you had moved away from him. If his deep, timber voice hadn’t already been driving you insane, then his touch would have, the action sending your heart skipping. Azriel’s hands gripped your hips roughly before his fingers were gliding up the back of your shirt, before releaving you your clothing.

Your mate stared tracing soothing circles along your bare skin when he noticed you looking more fidgety than usual. You shyly looked away from his intense gaze, adding a layer of timidity. You turned your eyes back to his when he gave your hips a subtle squeeze. A hint of concern flickered in his eyes when you hesitated before responding to him.

“ Az, I- uhm I'm ovulating. I’m fine but I wanted to let you know.” You were both honest about everything, but you were kind of nervous telling him. You had discussed having your own kids one day, and that it was something you both wanted eventually. But now, you wanted nothing more than for your mate to pump you full of cum until his seed was spilling out of you.

He gave you a panty-dropping smirk, dark gaze causing you to falter slightly as you wondered if he could hear your dirty thoughts, his eyes telling you he wanted nothing more than to devour you on the spot. “I know. You’re rubbing all over me, love.” You hadn’t realized that you were subconsciously grinding against him, too lost in your admiration of his attentiveness.

But you didn’t stop grinding against him as you smirked and leaned forward again, licking a stripe from his collarbone up to his jaw. He let out a groan as his hand tightened on your hips, the sound of his pleasure sending a jolt of electricity down your spine.

“ M’gonna need you to fuck me now, Az.” The words dripping with neediness were borderline pornopgraphic, ripped a dark chuckle from within his chest.

Shit.

You knew you forgot to ask nicely but before you could add a ‘please’ , Azriel already beat you to it.

“Yeah? You just demand something and I’m supposed to just give it to you? No please or thank you?” You let out a whine knowing that he’d drag this out until you were begging before him. If there was one thing Azriel couldn't stand, it was bratty behaviour and no manners, especially from you. He had made sure several times to correct you over the years. It seems that he’d have to correct you again. What a shame.

He looked at you unimpressed with a faint smirk that sent shivers down your spine.

“ You think whining like a child will help? That’s not how I’ve taught you to ask for things. C’mon sweet girl, use your words. Ask properly.”

You looked up at him as you dropped your slight pout, knowing it wouldn’t help, as you gave your most heartfelt apology and asked as nicely as you possibly could.

Let’s face it, you were ass-kissing at this point but who cares? You wouldn’t dare risk Azriel withholding any of your pleasure, especially not tonight. The mere thought of him leaving you unfinished almost brought you to tears. “M’sorry daddy, but I really, really love it when you touch me. Could I please have some more?” He looked at you for a moment, face unreadable and nodded, “Lean back.”

You were honestly shocked that pathetic excuse of an apology actually worked. Usually, he made you beg properly if you didn’t ask him nicely. Maybe he let it slide this time. Well, whatever. You didn’t have the patience to ponder over it now. Ovulation made you a million times needier, so you’d take anything he’d give you.

He palmed your breasts roughly and pinched your stiffened nipples. His hands then trailed down your stomach until he reached your hips. Your soft moans had his cock hardening instantly. You giggled and tried to pull away, shrieking when Azriel flipped you over, his body falling over yours. He kissed his way down to your stomach, and back up again, diluted eyes following the way he spread your legs, exposing your mess to him. He ran a thumb up your clit and you shivered, biting your lip so hard you thought you’d draw blood.

“What a pretty pussy”, he whispered to himself, running his thumb along your wet folds. Finally, Azriel leaned in and started to lick your throbbing clit. Arching your back, you pressed his face further into your cunt. “ A-ah fuck, daddy. You make me feel so so so good, ahh.” You felt yourself being stretched by his two fingers as they curled, hitting that delicious, spongy spot that made you feel euphoric. He pumped his fingers in and out while sucking on your clit.

You whined at the lost of contact when he suddenly pulled away, leaving you feeling hollow.

Maybe he was changing positions? Ah, yes, that must be it.

Relief flooded your veins as he came back up to eye level again. It could only mean one thing.

You were at last getting filled by his delicious cock.

The thought alone made your mouth water.

You kept biting your lips again to prevent a moan to escape. He saw you holding back and didn’t accept any of it, simply kissing and leaving you breathless as you became putty in his strong arms. “ No holding back now, baby. Let me hear you" he mumbled into your mouth kissing you as he lined his hard cock up with your entrance and pushed in his tip. You matched his groan as you felt him slowly pull out before pushing back into you.

At first his pace was slow and steady, kissing your neck and leaving little bruises all over. Only after feeling your arms tighten around his neck did he speed up a little. “ M’not made of glass. Move faster and harder. I can’t come like this otherwise.” You knew you absolutely shouldn’t talk to him like that, especially now that you were desperate. But pleasure had clearly clouded your sanity.

He raised his eyebrows and narrowed his eyes at you but you didn’t see it as you threw your head back in pleasure, feeling every ridge of his cock slide against your sensitive walls. Soon enough his grip was tight on your hips and he was roughly thrusting against you. His groans only making you wetter.

“ F-fuck m’gonna cum-! I need to come, daddy please!” He brought down his fingers and rubbed tight circles against your clit making you let out a wanton moan.

Soon. So soon and you’d feel euphoria.

Closing your eyes, you began to writhe against his fingers. One more stroke and you’d finally release.

He kissed your lips slowly and completely halted all his movements. He had completely ruined your pleasure. Your eyes shot open only to find him looking down at you smugly.

“D-daddy, wait, no- please, what’s going on?”

“ Gods, you’re fucking cute. Why are you confused? Did you think I missed the way you talked to me? You really thought I'd let you cum after commanding me? Seems a bit of cock is all it takes for you to get stupid, huh? Honestly, I thought I had taught you how to behave and ask for things nicely, how to use your manners properly but I guess not. That’s my fault really.”

You wanted to scream. This was not happening , not right now.

“ I won’t do it again,m’so sorry daddy. Just please let me cum, please. M’gonna be good, I swear.” He caressed your cheek lovingly making you think he’d finally give in.

But you know what they say, “hope breeds eternal misery.”

“Hm, too late for that now, sweetheart. Only good girls get to come, and you weren't being very good now, were you?”

Fucking hell. You weren’t finishing anytime soon. What the hell were you thinking, trying to command him of all people?

-------

He edged you for hours. Pushing you to the brink only to rip away sweet release at the very last second. “Huh, where did that attitude go?” Your face was covered in tears that were beginning to blur your vision as yet another orgasm ebbed away. He had driven you stupid from his touch. You put in all your efforts to properly answer his questions this time.

“Now let’s try this one more time, baby. How do you address me?”

“I will address you accordingly.”

“ What will you not do?”

“Speak with no manners, be demanding or be rude, daddy.”

“Good job, love. Now why are you being punished?”

“ Because I addressed you wrong, I was being mouthy and I wasn’t using proper manners when I asked for what I wanted, daddy.”

He leaned in and gave your neck a gentle kiss. “That’s my girl. My perfect girl. My sweet baby.”

“ May I ask a question? ” He smiled and nodded. “ Of course you can, love.”

“ Do you want to have a baby with me? ”

Azriel froze as he looked down at you. He was silently staring for so long with an unreadable expression that it made you wonder if you should've asked him at all.

“ Az- ” Azriel’s stomach flipped as he heard your question. A baby. His dreams of starting a family with you were on the verge of becoming a reality. “ Want me to make you a mommy? D’you want me to put a baby in you, huh baby?” , he confirmed and you once again nodded frantically in agreement.

He spread your legs apart before settling himself in between them. Looking down at your flushed face, Azriel gave you a reassuring smile and put his hand on your cheek. “You look so beautiful.” You gave him a bashful smile and kissed his palm. “ You look so beautiful too, daddy.” He glanced down at you, holding your heated stare while he positioned himself between your legs. Your body slightly tensed, hands grabbing handfuls of the sheets below you, as Azriel stretched you open. Your head fell back as you let out a content groan in unison.

Before he could ask if he could move, you choked out an “m'good, please daddy. It feels so good, please move.” Azriel's eyes darken a fraction as he grabbed your chin, thumb pressing into your bottom lip “Yeah? You're so fucking good for me baby.”

Whatever thinly veiled restraint was left in him shattered as you tightened around him, pleasure raging inside you.

“F-fuckk, right there. Azzie, m'gonna cum.” You gasped as he leaned down, burying his head in your tits, latching onto your left nipple as he teased the other. The headbord creaked, as his cock left you mumbling and pleading while tears of pleasure pricked at the corners of your eyes. The combination of him sucking on your breasts and the push and pull of his dick inside of you, made you dizzy. He unlatched from your nipple with half-lidded eyes, making you flush.

“ Need to see you filled up with my cum, baby. ” Your fingernails dug into his shoulders, biting your lip as you tried to contain the moan that was escaping you. Fuck, he really loved the way you clenched around him, bringing his fingers down to play with your neglected clit. You loved how vocal he was about what he wanted today, he usually wasn't.

I'm gonna give you my babes. Wanna see you nice and round, baby. Fuck, baby I'll take care of you don't worry.

The words erupted a primal need inside of you. You wanted babes with your mate, and he was willing to give you some.

He kept giving you deep strokes, rubbing tight circles on your clit as he sucked bruises on your neck. You kept moaning his name over, and over until you felt that familiar pressure build inside you. Tightening around his cock, you came while chanting his name, eyes fluttering shut as pleasure buzzed through you.

“ Ah, fuckk, this sweet cunt's milking me so fucking good. I'm gonna make you a mommy by tonight.” he chuckled, biting his lip as he saw you play with your nipple and clit. Azriel's thrusts were starting to get sloppy, indicating how close he was to the edge. Your husband kept muttering how much he needed to breed you and it made your realize just how turned on the idea made him.

So, of course, you gave him a final push.

“Let me make you a daddy. Cum inside me, please.” You encouraged him with an exhausted smile.

You felt his cum filling you up when he gave you a few final thrusts, putting his head in the crevice of your neck.

You both laid like that for a while before he carefully pulled out, making you whine a bit. His cum rushed out of you and he tsked with furrowed brows. He pushed his cum back in with two fingers. “What a waste that would've been.”

Azriel loves creampies, he'd never let one go to waste. Nothing makes him happier knowing that you're stuffed with him. His possessive side, felt satisfaction knowing that no other male would ever father your kids, making you his forever.

“You okay, baby? You did so well for me, sweet girl,” he softly mumbled, pressing a loving kiss to your forehead. When you nodded, he picked you up and carried you to the bathroom, lowering you into the already filled tub. You were on the brink of sleep when you felt him slip in behind you. Leaning your head on his chest, he brought you closer, kissing the back of your neck. “I'm so proud of you. I can't wait for you to get pregnant and start our family. I can't thank you enough for this, love. You have no idea how much I adore you.”

Another kiss. Gods, you were blushing.

“ Thank you, baby, I love you too. I'm just a bit tired, but I'll be okay. Probably won't be able to walk for a while, but at least you're here to pick me up and carry me around.” You felt his chest rumble with a comforting chuckle. “ I'll carry you anytime, baby. ”

After going for two more rounds in the tub, you were both utterly exhausted. He carried you back to bed after brushing and braiding your hair before putting you in one of his comfy, oversized shirts.

“Night night , Azzie, I love you s’much.” You whispered in affection, accompanied by a sweet kiss. Your legs entwined and your head nestled in the gentle curve of his neck. As sleep embraces, he tenderly said , “Sweet dreams, my dear. I love you too. ”